#something to chew on while I work on my drafts. . .

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 1 | masterlist

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“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”

You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position. 

Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood. 

“So, a nanny?” you ask.

He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache. 

“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish. 

“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”

A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income. 

“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.

He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”

You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”

That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”

You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air. 

“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”

The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him. 

“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss. 

“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic. 

You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt. 

“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”

His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you. 

You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.

Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance. 

You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.

“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”

“For what? To bang?”

“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”

“No kidding. The Captain?”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”

“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”

“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”

“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”

“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”

And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.

It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job. 

You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.

To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.

Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.

Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit. 

You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed. 

“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.” 

He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him. 

“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment. 

“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”

If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.

On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.

He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”

Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone. 

Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are. 

When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you. 

You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you. 

It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy. 

You don���t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.

You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.

Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.

At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking. 

Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations). 

The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too. 

Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.

“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.

You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man. 

The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin. 

For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.

Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap. 

Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—

You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind. 

“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams. 

“Not bad,” you squeak. 

You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.

As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.

[somegirlontheinternet135]

I didn't expect a post about a dating sim x click & point adventure game with The Beasts to be this popular but. . .

*random gestures*

So here you go, some thoughts & features that could be added to this weird fangame I conjured up!

(tw: long)

~General~

The world that the player teleported into heavily mirrors the land of beast yeast, complete with each of the landmarks which the beasts resign in. One exception however is at the center of this mysterious land is a forest of silver trees, which surround a strange alter of six stone standing pads, five little stones around a much larger stone in the middle (wonder what that's about?)

Somewhere amidst the silver woods is a mysterious grove, a grove filled with lilies. If adventurous enough, the player can explore the grove, but be warned, for not only do the scent of lilies cause drowsiness and the possibility of passing out, but lilies aren't the only thing that the land houses. The grove is peerless maze, so the player must enter with caution

The story length will be similar to how Obey Me is set up (divided into different chapters) with the first three to four chapters introducing the Beasts

There's no "canonical" choice of who'll you'll end up with, that's entirely up to the player. Another choice the player will have is whether the relationships can be platonic or romantic

Although many MCs are mostly left blank slates, I want the player in the sort of grey area between having an actual personality but leaving details vague enough to leave people guessing. Think the MC from "Obey Me" crossed with Yuu from "Twisted Wonderland" And you know many MCs are often nice and kind-hearted, well sorta throw that out the window bc we're doing something special(snarky, sarcastic, brutality honest, and filled with trust issues)

There's only snippets of what the player physically looks like(trust me, this'll be important later)

It's also important that the player has zero memory of entering the world they were basically isekaed into, something which the beasts learn one way or another. . .

The player will receive several petnames from the beasts, ranging from simple ones like "dear" or "sweetheart," to petnames relating to mice and other rodents(ie: "Little Mouse," "Pika," even "Pipsqueak")

In the game, the day-night cycle plays a big role in the gameplay. You'll be allowed to roam and explore as much as you want, but at night, you're given the choice of whether you should go to bed or keep exploring. If the player chooses to continue exploring, they'll be met with an energy meter, which increases when you sleep and decreases when you don't. With a full bar, the player can explore a total of five times, and once that meter runs out, they get too exhausted and fall asleep

Now would be a good time to mention the player's different bedrooms. They rotate based on the location, but they're meant to be a sort of safe space for the player, it's also the area where they pick up an important item: A journal

The journal functions very similarly to a scribble board and an actual notebook but serves one purpose, to allow the player to take notes on certain puzzles. Different puzzles are scattered across the landmarks, some are extremely difficult and require one to jot notes

I also like to think the player would receive a variety of tools during their journey and will each be essential. Which would lead the player to carry a bag to hold said items

For the purpose of the story, the player is able to respawn if they die. Remember the alter in the silver tree forest, they wake up there like nothing happened, although they do still retain the memories of said death

The player will engage in several minigames, the most common of them being a cooking style game where you prepare meals and ones where your using certain tools. Whilst the click & point portion consists of the player exploring the different areas & interacting with their surroundings

As a bonus, the player is gifted different outfits from the beasts, each one corresponding to the beast, their interests, and their theme

~Shadow Milk~

In the many eyes of Shadow Milk, the player is the only cookie he's seen in a while, so it's obvious he'd want them to be his audience, if you ever so chose to be. They get the option of asking more & trying to convince him on letting them have a turn in performing, which he'll have different reactions to

*You're reading the scripts of one of Shadow Milk's plays, in awe at the material. You compliment his work, making him all the more flattered*

"Oh I love acting! Your script is amazing, could I try acting some things out?"

*Hearing the question, Shadow Milk snatches the script from your hands. He almost snaps at you*

"What? No, of course not!"

"I'm sorry my dear, I adore your praise but. . . we've already established who the audience is! It's the key tool of any actor's career, and without that, we'd just be two actors with no one to entertain. . ."

"Besides, I think you'd have trouble trying to impress such a seasoned performer like myself~"

Despite his condescending comments, he slowly begins to let you act out small skits as their relationship with him becomes stronger, and he begins to cave

Shadow Milk has several references to acting, the stage, and plays, it would be a sin to not give this man a rhythm game. Similar to already existing rhythm games like "Rhythm Heaven" or the rhythm game portion in "Obey Me"

Every task, no matter how minimal or simple, becomes way more difficult with Shadow Milk. If you're just as much as a theater kid as he is, his need for literally everything to be a grand, exaggerated, obnoxious spectacle, especially around the player, is strong. Half the time, things don't go his way & he winds up making a mess, messes which the player is forced to clean up

Also, most everything he does requires a quick "costume change" thems the rules. He's cooking you breakfast? He's wearing a bright pink apron with frills and a heart-shaped pocket. You get hurt and scrape your knee? Here comes Dr. Shadow Milk in his doctor's uniform and stethoscope. The two of you are getting ready for bed? You'll be seeing him in striped pajamas, an extremely long nightrobe, fuzzy slippers and a sleep mask, including hair curlers

There will absolutely be no sneaking out on his domain, not on his watch! Shadow Milk, with his abilities, is a living security system, and reacts heavily to sound. So one snap of a twig or step on some creaking floorboards and it's over!

"*Ahem!*"

*A freakishly familiar voice is heard from behind you. Breaking into a sweat, you slowly turn around, the smallest part of you wished it wasn't who you thought it was. . . But as luck would have it, you didn't know any other crazy entertainers. . . Sure enough, it was exactly who'd you expected to see, Shadow Milk stood in front of you, arms crossed and everything*

"Just where do you think you're going?"

*You try playing it cool, although sweating a bit*

"Oh hey Shadow. . . I was just about to head out and-"

"Head out? At this time?!"

"I-I'm not gonna be gone for too long! I'll come right back after promise- *ah!*"

*Shadow Milk had already scooped you up, carrying you bridal style*

"That's quite enough! I can't have my only audience member getting drowsy during one of my shows, now can I?~"

*You were embarrassed beyond belief, even more once he started walking you to your room, and abruptly boops you on the nose*

"It's off to bed with you little mousey!~"

". . . ok(;w;). . ."

He takes much pride & joy in inconveniencing the player, purely for his own entertainment. What makes it worse is that he'll always find some sort of excuse, saying how it's "to punish them" and "to teach them how to do it right," just some of the lies they have to deal with

And that's not all, you think he started there? nope! He started lying to the player the second the two of them met. Seeing the player scared and alone in his domain, he didn't miss an opportunity to mess with the player's head. Fortunately, this does change as you begin to get closer with him, he starts being more open with the player

The outfit Shadow Milk gives the player is, although the tackiest thing on earthbread(if the player decides that it is), the most practical of the outfits they'll receive. It has a sort of German fairytale vibe to it, covered head to toe in ruffles, lace, bells, overly detailed designs, and of course, colored blue. It looks like, feels like, and is a costume, but despite its cheesy appearance, it's easy to run & move in

Out of all the beasts, Shadow Milk is the one who cares the most for the player's physical well-being. He's always making sure the player's eating enough, getting sleep, and most importantly, is happily entertained. It's been far too long since he was able to put on his plays, and he's gonna make sure they have the ability to sit through them

All and all, Shadow Milk is a well-meaning, all be it annoying, roommate

~Eternal Sugar~

She was always keen on learning most of the trickster's secrets, so finding out about the player, she became both upset yet understanding. Shadow Milk was the Cookie of Deceit after all

Regardless, Eternal Sugar found it quite unfair of him to keep them all to himself, and took it upon herself to steal the player away, via using one of her clouds

*While wandering by yourself within Shadow Milk's domain, you peer up at the unearthly, but normally blue sky, to see what seemed to be clouds suspiciously hovering over you*

Bewildered and curious, the player has the decision of either ignoring it or checking it out, but each will end in the clouds scooping up the player and taking them, all the way to Eternal Sugar Cookie

First meeting the player, she's admittingly unimpressed with what she sees, to think something so important to them would be reduced to such a simple creature. . ? But that mindset quickly changes as she discovers how adorable the player is, and just how naive they are. . .

She views the player as some sort of pet, spoiling them with all the goodies they can ever want, to a point where its almost overwhelming

*On a table, a large platter of sweets is set in front of you; you're almost tooken back by the sheer size of the dish, it was almost half the size of the table! Just sitting next to you was Eternal Sugar, smiling almost amusingly at your reaction*

"U-Uh. . . Is this all for me. . ?"

*She giggled*

"Of course it is dear! What sort of guest would you be if you didn't receive such delicacies?"

*Eternal Sugar picks up a sweet from the platter and holds it close to your mouth*

"Now, open wide~"

Unlike the other beasts, Eternal Sugar has the habit of babying the player, so like Shadow Milk, every simple task becomes way more difficult with her around. She'll make sure they won't be able to lift a finger!

Her associative minigame fits her sort of style, a memory game using cards, similar to the many games you can find on those "Kid-friendly Newgrounds" websites

Another thing worth noting is her clingy nature. Everywhere the player goes, Eternal Sugar has to follow, which does make things more difficult and affects progress. The prime definition of a space invader

It gets even worse during the night cycle, where she often insists on sleeping in the same bed as the player. Despite this, night is the only time the player will be able to get anything done. Just know that when they got back to bed and woke up the next morning, they'll have a sweet surprise waiting for them

*Morning light shines onto your face as it creeps into the rest of the room. You groan, awoken by your natural alarm clock, and begin to yawn & stretch, a part of you wished you slept in a bit longer. But as you try to get out of bed, you feel a weight on your right hand, better yet, you feel an entire section of the bed being weighed down by some unknown force. Turning around, you quickly discover why*

"E-Eternal Sugar Cookie! What are you-?!"

*There, covering a good half of the bed, Eternal Sugar Cookie was peacefully snoozing, clutching your hand. In your failed attempts at yelling at her & pulling your hand away were left to no avail, she had no intent on moving, nor letting go, making you all the more flustered*

"Ms. Eternal Sugar Cookie, please!- Let me go! I need-"

*She merely lifted one eye, only half awake and ready to sleep the rest of the day away*

"Awh~ but little mouse, it's so early!~ Can't you stay just a bit longer?~"

*She smiles at your flustered expression*

"But I have stuff to do! Please, you have to let me- *ah!-* h-hey!"

*Too busy trying to escape, you failed to notice her grip getting tighter, pulling you back down your now shared bed*

"Sleep a little more with me, won't you? There's no rush~"

"O-ok, fine then, but only for a couple more minutes, but that's it!"

*She giggled*

"Deal~"

Throughout their stay, the player only gets small snippets of Eternal Sugar's true personality. If the player chose to question her sickly sweet demeanor, she'd get defensive real fast, asking them why they would even question something like that. If angered, she becomes pushy, demanding, especially when the player doesn't do what she says

It becomes increasingly clear when Eternal Sugar gives you a new outfit, since the one you're wearing (aka the outfit Shadow Milk gave you) didn't fit her style, believing that you should wear something more flowy. She actually offers several different outfits for the player, and although nice, they're. . . let's just say not so family friendly; try as they might to reject her offers, she'll get upset and more persistent, nonetheless; this however does change as the story goes on, she becomes more understanding. Luckily, the two manage to make a compromise, Eternal Sugar offers the player a much simpler pink dress, with bows, lace, and ribbons. Despite being much to the player's liking(if that's what the player chooses), she begins to whine about it, saying how it could've been so much more; not to mention, both the ribbons and lace constantly get stuck on things if they aren't careful

The only time the player's able to really see Eternal Sugar's true colors is when Shadow Milk shows up, who's not all too happy about her basically kidnapping the player. Whilst they ventured alone, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off them for a second, last thing he knew they were snatched by some clouds and whisked away into the sky, which he immediately starts chasing after them. He knew exactly who was responsible. Unlike Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar does a much better job of keeping her composure, playing dumb and refraining from acting out of character around the player. But once Shadow Milk insults her fake personality, all hell breaks loose

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my dear friend. . .?~ Eternal Sugar Cookie. . !"

*Shadow Milk had snuck in through an open window. Before you could even do anything, Eternal Sugar had already pulled you to her side, forcing you to sit in the lavish and comfortable sofa she was lounging on. He made his way towards her, with his usual wide smile; from the corner of your eye, you could barely see an eye twitch and, was he gritting his teeth? It didn't look like it, but he was seething with rage*

"Oh, Shadow Milk Cookie!~ for what do I owe the pleasure?~"

"How lovely of you to ask!~ You see, you just so happen to have something that belongs to me!"

*Shadow Milk then stares back at you, startling you a bit with his crazed expression. Although Eternal Sugar seemed unfazed, her grip on you only became tighter as the trickster started speaking to you*

"Little mousey, there you are!~ Oh I was so worried, thank goodness you're safe!~"

"I am so, so, sorry to have kept you waiting~ believe me, it's a long story!~"

"*Ah!* And what happened to the little dress I gave you?! I mean you still look cute, but you'd look so much better before and- oh! almost got off track for a second!~ *haha!*"

"Alrighty, I think it's time for me and my little mousey to get go-"

"You're leaving with them? Now what would be the purpose in that?~"

*She quickly shifted from her lounging position to a sitting position, pulling you closer toward her, and flustering you more. You see the trickster's eye twitch more, noticing just a crack in his character*

"*hehe-* what did you say. . ?!"

"I've tooken quite the liking to 'your' little mouse!~ Besides, you keeping them all to your self. . ? Extremely unfair of you!~"

*She then draped her arms around you, your face was getting redder by the second*

"Surely they'll be much happier here, isn't that right little mouse?~"

"Well, *uhh-* actually. . ."

"Then it's settled!~ The little mouse will be staying with me!~"

*They proceeded to argue back and forth, Shadow Milk's played up character was falling apart at the seams, losing a drop of his patience with every word the "angel" said. Eternal Sugar found herself quite entertained with the trickster getting angrier and angrier. All the while, you didn't know what to do, clearly neither of them were going to let you leave, or you know, let you get a single word in. So you were placed in a very awkward situation, stuck between an angel cookie who wasn't keen on you leaving, and a jester who was trying to get you back through gritted teeth*

"Listen, I'm the one who saw them first, they were found in my domain, therefore, they're mine! So if you would be so kind as to return them to me. . !"

*She proceeded to hold you closer, practically cuddling you, was she trying to make him even angrier?!*

"Oh but we're having so much fun!~ They'd much prefer it here than that over-the-top spiral you call a tower. . !"

*Insulting his domain was the nail in the coffin. It looked like he'd finally snapped, any ounce of patience he had before was completely out the window. Using his magic, he wrapped up your hands in some mysterious string, pulling you forward and out of Eternal Sugar's reach, greatly shocking and scaring the heck out of you. Once you were back in his arms, Shadow Milk pushed you behind him, and looking back at Eternal Sugar, she'd gotten up from the sofa, it seemed like she was starting to crack as well*

"Oh!~ So that's how we're gonna play *huh?!* Then I'll lend you this: do you really think they'd want to stay with a tooth-rotting prick like yourself?!"

*She began to clutch her fists, her eyes widen in a mix of shock and anger*

". . ?! What did you just call me. . ?!"

"Oh don't you give me that! little miss 'sweet & innocent angel!' unlike myself, people can see your fake persona from a mile away!~"

"And with how long they had to stay with you. . . I'm surprised my poor little mousey hasn't gotten sick and vomited from the spoiling and smothering they had to withstand!"

*That was all it took for her, she broke faster than he did, the wings on her back got bigger, Eternal Sugar's eyes glowed with rage*

". . . how dare you. . !"

"HOW DARE YOU!!"

The player obviously gets the choice of trying to stop the fight or slipping away, the following events escalating faster or slower depending on which they choose. Things escalate to a point where Eternal Sugar just snatched them and attempted to fly away with the player, which led to Shadow Milk using his magical strings to pull them back, entering the two of them in an intense game of tug of war with the player. And the force of both sides was so strong. . . It ended up ripping the player in half

So, Eternal Sugar Cookie, kinda pushy at times and very clingy all the time, but a sweetheart nonetheless

~Mystic Flour~

Getting ripped in half by two powerful beings. . . not something you would easily forget. . . You'd expect this to be game over, right? well, wrong, cause upon miraculously waking up, not only do you find yourself on top a strange alter, but face to face with Mystic Flour Cookie

Seeing the clouds of Eternal Sugar Cookie's cloud soaring past her land, she immediately could tell that something was a mist, and strolling through the silver forest and finding the player laying on the strange alter, her suspicions were correct

At first, she couldn't believe it, a cookie, in their world?! But after a proper meeting with the player and asking how they ended up on the alter, she became a bit more pitiful, going on to invite them to her domain, such a clueless cookie shouldn't be left alone!

But talking about what was basically their death is pretty traumatizing, so the player is given the choice of whether to straight up lie, or give some part of the truth

"So, you have no memory of how you ended up on this alter. . ? Nothing at all?"

*Your voice was strained, you didn't want to tell her the full truth*

"N-no, not a lot. . ."

*Mystic Flour then proceeds to grasp both your cheeks, pulling you close to her face, much to your slight embarrassment*

"Oh, you poor thing! You must be so lost, so confused. . ."

*It was that moment when an idea sprung into her, an idea that may help the both of you. . .*

"How about you come with me?~ Surely you'll be much safer!~"

*Try as you might to decline her offer, she just becomes more insistent. She was giving decent points however, you were lost and confused, not to mention trapped in this witch-forsaken place, and the only two "cookies" you knew killed you, accidently or not, you couldn't decide. . . Eventually, after lots of convincing and growing tired, you finally cave, accepting her offer*

"Ok, fine, I'll go with you"

"Oh good! Well, come along then!~"

*Gently, Mystic Flour took your hand, pulling you off the alter, and guiding you through the silver woods*

Mystic Flour had already made herself sound quite trustworthy, but of course, this can't be without some sort of catch. . . Though she looks caring on the outside, she sees the player as a mere tool, a stepping stool for something much greater. Her methods of getting information is much more subtle

Both minigames mentioned before required some sort of skill, Mystic Flour's is no exception. Similar to classic video game "Snake," the player's goal is to fill the respected area using dragons instead of snakes (wonder why?)

Pretty much the minute the two of them enter her domain, she basically gives them free range to do whatever. She doesn't really care if the player wanders too far or gets into spaces they shouldn't. But she will let you know when it's time to head back

*As the sun starts to set, you continue to search about the area like a curious child, you hardly noticed Mystic Flour standing just behind you*

"Little pika, dear it's time to head back!~"

*Hearing her voice yelling out to you so suddenly just barely startled you, but you gained back your composure once you see her warm smile*

"Oh! Hi Mystic Flour Cookie! Just give me a second, I have to check a few more things!"

*It wasn't like you weren't going to listen to her orders, you just had a bit more to do. But watching you get farther & farther away from her; Mystic Flour saw it differently. Already making her way toward you, she proceeded to scoop you into her arms, startling you and plastering blush onto your face, as she started walking you back herself*

"*ah!*W-Wait! Mystic Flour Cookie, I wasn't done ye-!"

"I know, I know, dear, you have your little tasks!~ But you'll have so much time to do them tomorrow, so please, might we head back? I'm sure the food is getting cold!"

*With you being in her grasp and your legs being very much off the ground, there wasn't really a choice to keep going. You could've kicked and screamed, but there were doubts that'd even work. . . And so, with no other options, you let her take you away, which sucked, but hey, at least you have yummy food waiting for you!*

Mystic Flour has the sheer amount of enthusiasm as an overly supportive mother, she has not a clue of what the player is doing but they're doing great! But like some mothers, she tries a more "hands off" approach as a way to set rules, intentionally not telling the player helpful information just for the sake of them learning it themselves

She does, however, provide them with all the materials to do so: a bedtime routine, plenty of food, and a warm winter outfit. Speaking of which, due to the wintery background, Mystic Flour gives them an outfit most suitable to withstand the cold, something heavy, but also angelic, a nun like dress colored a soft yellow, complete with black counterparts. The only downside is that defending the player from the cold is its only purpose, for it is much too heavy anywhere else and unbearable in hotter areas

Unlike the other beasts mentioned, Mystic Flour has no interest in forming a genuine relationship with the player. To her, you only serve one purpose, finding her escape (whatever that means) and is more direct into reaching her goal. She creates a false sense of security between the two of them, then when the time is right, uses that bond to her advantage. Fortunately, this behavior does change as the story continues, and Mystic Flour becomes more interested, and attached, to the player, but for now, her methods remain neutral

This becomes more apparent as Mystic Flour tries getting information out of the player in a sort of therapeutic way, sitting them down and letting them speak about their troubles, starting with the obvious. . .

"And. . . that's pretty much what happen. . ."

*You laid atop the much larger cookie, your head resting on her lap as she lightly massaged your hair. You rub your hands uncomfortably, as if waiting for bad news, your throat felt strained. Sandwiched between two angry beings, getting pulled into the sky then ripped in two, these were memories you weren't ready to revisit, especially with someone you've met only a few moments ago. . . At the same time, was holding this deep inside healthy? You saw life flash before your eyes, seconds before being split in half. . . Besides, you were already holding onto so much. . . would it hurt to let go of some. . . You felt Mystic Flour let go of your hair as she began running her hand on your face*

"Oh you, poor, poor, dear. . ."

"I am so sorry you had to be apart of. . . that. . ."

*Although you couldn't see her face, she sounded genuinely sorry for you, which was quite refreshing considering everything you've been through so far*

"They can be rather selfish at times, only thinking about themselves. . . You're lucky you've ended up with me!~"

*You laughed at her remark, trying to brighten up the mood, despite still feeling, well, you didn't know what to feel at that point. . .*

"*Heh* Yeah. . . I guess you're right. . ."

*Unannounced to you, Mystic Flour smiled to herself, her plan was working swimmingly. . . Having brought you to a docile state, it was more than a better time to gather the information she'd been longing for. . .*

"If you would allow me to. . . may I ask you something else?"

*You think for a minute, it was only one question, what harm could it do. . .*

"*Uh* sure. . . what is it?"

"Well little pika, you see-"

*Before the words could fall out of her mouth, there was a sudden loud BANG noise from outside. Respectfully, this startles you, making you flinch, but Mystic Flour didn't seem to move. . . Looking back up, you were finally able to see her face, she seemed irritated, annoyed. Gently, she lifted your head off her lap, resting you onto your knees, confused, you turn to her and saw that she was already standing, looking down upon you. She mumbled something under her breath*

"*Ugh* At a time like this. . ?!"

"Just a moment pika. . . I have to handle something. . ."

Mystic Flour considers herself to be the mother figure of the beasts, and although uncompassionate at times, she plays her role well

~Burning Spice~

(Literally the most perfect segway!~)

All it took was Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar fighting for Burning Spice Cookie to want a part of the action. Last where we left off with them, the two managed to split the player in half, insides and everything, and were now freaking out over their (very much dead) body, whilst arguing over whose fault it was. By sheer coincidence, did Burning Spice decide to check up on Eternal Sugar, and catches site of the two yelling at each other

Burning Spice hasn't met the player, doesn't know who they are nor what they look like, but he took immediate interest in them after seeing how they affected the two other beasts. If just their mutilated body was enough to cause them to start screaming and crying like little kids, who knows what else they could do. . .

Already, he was making assumptions of what kind of person they'd be, perhaps the player was someone strong and intimidating, someone perfect to be his sparring partner, and continues to deny any sort of actual description of them

Him, Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar had mostly worked together in their search for the player, but the millisecond they found out they were with Mystic Flour, the race was on. . . Which takes us to now, where Burning Spice appears first, causing a massive scene with his abilities in an attempt to lure her out

*Alerted by the sudden destruction just outside, Mystic Flour rushed to her outer balcony, irritated like this had happened before. . . She knew exactly who the culprit was, and sure enough, there he was, sitting casually atop the balcony's railing, Burning Spice greeted her with a sinister look on his face. She had already prepared herself, immediately knowing that something was about to go down*

"There she is, Misty! Long time no see!"

"Burning Spice Cookie. . . what brings you here. . ?"

"*Oh!* I think you know exactly why I'm here!"

*Getting off the railing, he walked toward his comrade, having no use in making a big deal out of it. Mystic Flour, although slightly surprised, saw it as a sort of threat, only further did she stand her ground*

"Ya see, a little birdie told me that you've been hiding a shiny new treasure from us. And I, of course, thought it'd be too good to be true. . . So I decided to drop by to take a look for myself. . !"

*He tried walking around her to reach the balcony's entrance, but before he could take another step, Mystic Flour stopped him, she wouldn't back down that easily. . .*

"There is no such thing. . . whatever is in my possession is none of your business. . !"

*In her defensive state, Burning Spice's persistence only grew, now patting her shoulder almost reassuringly*

"Hey, c'mon Misty!~ we're buddies, pals! Letting me get a tiny sneak peek shouldn't be a problem!"

"Say, how about this? You let me see what you're hiding, and I promise, I won't tell the others, I'll even let ya keep it! So what do ya say?~"

*Not even seconds after he said that, he immediately tried pushing past Mystic Flour as if she'd already answered his question. Of course, she shut that down almost instantly, even pushing him back, something which he doesn't really take well. His eyes widened, she set him off by just that push alone. She could bluntly tell he was lying, only using their relationship as an excuse, so she didn't let him any closer*

"Burning Spice Cookie, we've known each other for eons, do you really think I wouldn't be able to recognize one of your petty excuses. . . ?! "

"If you knew better, you'd be wise enough to leave, for this so-called treasure you're after, I know nothing about!"

*Pushing and telling him to leave. . . yep, that'll do it. . . Burning Spice broke into laughter as his hair began to glow warms shades of red, orange, and yellow, moving like a sea of flames*

"*HA HA HA HAHAHA!* *Oh!* Misty, ya might just make me angry!"

*His tone quickly shifts from trigger-happy to overall threatening once he'd opened his eyes, now just as bright as his hair, he marches towards Mystic Flour, who was all the more irritated and unfazed*

"And you. . . don't wanna make me angry. . !"

"Make you angry?! *Heh!* Didn't know it was so easy to mess with that small brain of yours!"

*It isn't long before the two engage in full on battle, both sides being equally matched in some way. While this was all happening, you were completely unaware; being inside exploring, you're none the wiser of the destruction going on outside*

Eventually, Burning Spice does manage to bust his way inside, and upon actually seeing the player in their simple state, he couldn't be more disappointed, to think Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar's bickering would be caused by such a boring little cookie(but those two do fight over a lot of things, so-)

He'd almost considered leaving them, but Burning Spice would rather leave with something than nothing, so taking his losses he hoists up the player over his shoulder and makes, a not so quiet, escape. Much to Mystic Flour's dismay and the player's protests (or cries for help depending on what they choose)

Burning Spice sees the player like how a general sees a soldier. He thinks they're weak, bland, and more notably boring, and wants to, in his words, "spice them up." Because of this, he is unnecessarily harsh, working the player to the bone and expecting them to "get up" when they get too tired

*How long has it been. . ? An hour? Two hours? At that point you didn't know, but all you did know is that it felt like an eternity since Burning Spice started your so called "training." Back and forth, you were forced to run with heavy rocks on your back whilst following him, who was doing the same. All the while he'd yell at you to pick up the pace as encouragement. . .You huffed and panted*

"*Hah**hah. . .* Burning Spice Cookie, please, can't we stop for. . . just a minute. . ?"

*It was the only time he'd turn back at you, what a ridiculous ask!*

"What?! Definitely not! ya still got a lot to go, pipsqueak!"

*You couldn't go on any longer. A mess of sweat and sore bones, you plummet to the ground, numb to the rocks currently on your back, you wanted rest, at least for a minute. . . Burning Spice only reached a good distance away before noticing you were far, far behind. He ran back to you, but not because he was worried*

"Ay! Pipsqueak, what's the holdup?!"

*He crouched down, better viewing your shriveled up body, far too weak to keep going. Despite the obvious, Burning Spice still tried getting you to stand, poking, even attempting to pull you off the ground, but you won't budge. . .*

"C'mon! Quit acting like Eternal Sugar Cookie and get moving!"

"Please. . . let me rest. . ."

*Your sweat could've well stained the ground if it were cool enough. . . You were stubborn & refused to get up, becoming a puddle of flesh. Realizing that you weren't moving, he, grudgingly, decides to do what was best, but first he had to move you somewhere more suitable to your needs*

"*Ugh* Alright! Fine! I'll let you outta this, only once!"

*Swiftly brushing the rocks off your back, he scoops you up and onto his shoulder, no way would he let you die right then and there. You suddenly feel the biggest weight being literally lifted off your shoulders, thanking whatever was out there for this moment*

"I'll let you rest, but not here!"

"*Heh* Thank you. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!"

Everything Burning Spice does, he expects the player to do the same, no matter how difficult. But will give them the benefit of the doubt when the player gets too tired to keep going, much to his annoyance

He's active and moving 24/7, that's why Burning Spice's minigame is directly based on "Super Mario Bros" where the player runs about collecting items, attacking enemies, etc.

If the player is talking to him, he'll most entirely talk about himself, boosting his ego, even throwing insults at the other beasts, which is both annoying and ironic because he does the exact same things that they do. That being said, it's important to never get mad at him or give him attitude because it will work him up, for better or worse. . .

The player can easily get information from him due to his blunt honesty. When talking about the other beasts, he'll always give bits of helpful information about them, some that can be extremely helpful in the future

Similar to Mystic Flour, Burning Spice gives the player free range to do whatever, the only difference is that Burning Spice sets up these "training sessions" on random occasions without notifying the player firsthand, and expects them to drop everything to train with him. This exhausts the player, causing them to only be able to do things during the day, when they've required enough rest

*Stumbling into the room Burning Spice gave you, you flop onto the bed, nestling your head against your pillow, relived. You were finally able to rest your jelly legs, sore running around and doing tasks. But you turn to your side, something catches your eye. . . On the single window of your room, you noticed what looked to be a slip of paper. Despite being entirely drained, your curiosity got the better of you, and slipping from the bed, you make your way toward the windowsill, now realizing how out of place from the rest of the room, appearing more of a light lilac than any of the reds and oranges. You questioned if even came from the place, and upon proper examination, your suspicions seemed correct. . . This was no mere paper, but a letter! Curiosities only felt more rapid as you opened, revealing not only short message crafted in cursive, but a beautiful illustration of a rose*

"Small Rodent, have you been faring well within our world? Have you been eating, sleeping well? I hope the others hadn't been too cruel towards you. . . Word of mouth does not travel fast here, so I apologize if I arrive to you late. . . I wish to reach you soon. . ."

"From- Silent Salt Cookie"

"Small Rodent. . ?"

*Reading through the passage, you took a few seconds to process, hoping that whoever sent it wasn't suggesting what you thought they were suggesting, cause if you got kidnapped one more time. . .-*

"Aye! Pipsqueak!!"

*Burning Spice had, without warning, busted into the room, no time for internal dialogue now! With milliseconds to think, you swiftly hide the letter behind your back, not before confronting the brute for his sudden excursion of your privacy*

"B-Burning Spice Cookie?! What are you doing here?!-"

"What?~ I can't check on my little pipsqueak, can't I?~"

*Again with the nickname. .?! Blushing rapidly, you couldn't tell whether you were annoyed, angry, or just plain embarrassed. . . Burning Spice laughed boastingly, always amused by your expressions*

"*HAHAHAH!~* Ya never fail to entertain me, pipsqueak!~"

*Then he noticed the arms behind your back. . .*

"Say, whatcha got there? Ya hiding something from me?"

*Shoot! the letter was still in your hands! Only seeing this as more of a reason to keep it hidden, you play it cool for as much as possible*

"I-It's nothing! W-What are you talking about?!*hehe*"

*Burning Spice just saw your actions as even more suspicious, he might be a barbarian, but he isn't stupid. He attempted turning you around to see what exactly you were keeping from him, all the while you were trying to dodge him, cold sweat beginning to run down your forehead*

"Are ya sure? Cause *uh* ya starting to look pretty sweaty there. . ."

"Oh!- this?! *Uhh. . .* I'm just, tired! from all the training today *haha!*"

*You two do this dance a bit, with you becoming doubly irritated the more Burning Spice tried seeing what you're hiding, getting additionally irritated while Burning Spice looked completely willing to tear your front open, asking and reinsuring you, again and again to get a little looksee. And you thought Shadow Milk was nosy?! Annoying and driven to your breaking point, you practically yell at him-*

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, OK?!"

*Hearing those words fall out of your mouth, Burning Spice is beyond tooken aback, clearly, he didn't like being told what to do. You quickly gasp to yourself, slamming your mouth closed with a free hand upon realizing what you've just said, how could you be so stupid?! With the letter still in your other hand, you decide the best course of action was to crumble up the paper, that letter was the least of your worries now anyway. . .*

"Did. . .Did you just yell at me. . ?!"

*You gulped, your sweat becoming increasingly apparent as the brute looked seconds away from having steam shoot out his ears. He proceeds to get unnervingly close, practically towering over you. . .Didn't think it would end this way. . .*

"That. . . Is. . ."

"Great!!!"

"Ya getting spicier by the minute!"

*Burning Spice grabbed both your shoulders, and shook them with excitement, much to your bewilderment. The way his tone can just shift was both jarring and impressive. After a bit of violent shaking and surviving what would've been another death experience, he eventually lets go, not before giving you a hardy slap to the back whilst laughing, dang near knocking you off your feet and the letter out of your hand*

"*HA! HA!* Ya know what!? Take the rest of the day off! I wanna see my hard work!"

*He happily marches out of the room, leaving you in a rather messed up state*

"Be sure to get all the rest ya need! Ya gonna need it for tomorrow!"

*Burning Spice leaves the room, shutting the door, the second he was out of sight, you took the biggest sigh of relief. That was close, way too close! Like you practically dodged a bullet! You pull back out the crumbled-up letter and tried to fix it, somewhat regretting your decision of almost destroying it before. You had to be more careful next time*

During this entire scene, the player must be extra careful around Burning Spice, because despite how it's played, there's a route where he discovered the letter while they're asleep, and he's not too pleased with having Silent Salt trying to contact them, promptly getting so angry he burns the letter to ashes

That being said, Burning Spice, though seeming like a rage-filled brute who fights first and asks questions later, he's never threatening nor outright violent to the player, unless its a final resort. The player is a much-needed piece in a, all be it complex, puzzle, even if they don't even know it, and in order for them to work is through gaining their trust. But don't think that this is a good thing, there are many times where he could've hurt them yet actively chose not to

He immediately got to work constructing another outfit for the player cause in his own words, "there's no way ya staying here looking like that!" And the outfit he gives them perfectly reflects his ego, slick black clothing, paired with red barbaric accents, and brightly colored armor, making the player look like a mini version of himself. It's good enough for the endless training they have to do, but it's clear that some parts of the outfit were put together at the last second and were made from the minimal sewing Burning Spice learned. And if wanting to be honest, it's kinda ugly. . . Overall, it's the player's least favorite of the outfits given (if they decide it is)

Every hour, it feels like Burning Spice is always learning something new about the player, to him at least. Because of this, he celebrates every accomplishment they make with lavished (and very spicy) feasts, no matter how small they might be. Not exactly the best prize for basically being slaved away constantly to a point of exhaustion, but he doesn't need to know that. The only downside to this is that he's loud, like really loud, so loud in fact, he can't hear any other voices but his own, making him clearly oblivious to a certain someone stealing away the player(-again)

So Burning Spice, a not-so great roommate, but a pretty good personal trainer

~Silent Salt~

Ever since leaving Shadow Milk's site, someone else had been watching the player for some time, someone who wasn't too distant from the player, none other than the silent knight themself, Silent Salt Cookie

Once they found out about the player, there wasn't an ounce of disbelief nor hesitation that got into their head, they only had one goal in mind, and that was getting the player out of the other beasts' hands. But like a hungry wolf with its meal, they knew it wouldn't be easy. The other beasts always kept the player at arm's length, even with the leisure they receive, those four always made sure they were watched. And so they waited, and waited, and waited. . . In till they had the right moment to strike

Normally the beasts would be more direct when approaching the player, probably showing some pity towards them, not before whisking them away, Silent Salt on the other hand had a more different approach. They'd leave small letters for the player, all written in cursive and paired with a beautifully drawn illustration which they constructed themselves. Silent Salt essentially gives the player a bread crumb trail, preparing them for what was to come as to not spook them later

"Last one to get back to the base goes stale!"

"Burning Spice Cookie! Wait up!"

*You two were only trying to get back. . . nothing too special, yet of course, Burning Spice just had to turn it into a game of tag, didn't he?! Already tired from the day's activities, you struggled to move forward, and the barbarian is way ahead. Despite how unfair, annoying, and exhausting it was, you sighed, it wasn't the first time he did this. . . As you forced your body further, all you cared about was getting rest. You never understood why Burning Spice pushed your body to such lengths, but if there was one other reason to keep going it was to spite him. But as you were about halfway there, an unknown force suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, you yelped, why does everyone here like grabbing you!?*

"*AH!* W-What the!?-"

*Pulled into an unnoticed corner, you practically swing yourself around, already having a good idea of just who decided to yank you out of the way, and you got what you wished for. . . Hovering over your tiny body, was the silent knight themself, quiet and unmoving, looking down at you. . . You jump back a bit startled, those training sessions are sounding a lot better right now. . . Although frozen with fear, it didn't take long to realize that something wasn't right. Sure, they appeared in front of you but that was merely it, just standing there, menacingly, almost like a statue. Your fear quickly dissolves into pure confusion as you stare back at them, the moment shifting into awkward silence. You already had a decent idea of who this fellow might be, and decided to use it as a way to break the barrier between you two*

"*Um. . .* Hi. . ."

"Y-You're Silent Salt Cookie, right. . ?"

*It took them a second to respond, and by "respond" they actually crouched down and got extremely close to your face, adding to your bewilderment, and barely managing to keep your composure*

"*ah!-* I'm gonna take that as a yes. . !"

*As a result of being thrown around so much, you practically knew what was next, but seeing the knight so still felt alien to you, and almost refreshing. . ? Like you were happy to just not be snatched for once, as morbid as that sounds. Oh but no, that's not right, who's to say that this fellow was to be trusted. You make the bold choice to ask them more questions, but before another word could fall out of your mouth. . .*

"Aye Pipsqueak! What's the hold up!?"

It's a no-brainer that Burning Spice finally noticed the player's absence, they have the rightful decision of running to him or yelling out, which Silent Salt covers their mouth and attempts to take them away(what a surprise!) The second route, however, the player's (4th) kidnapping is put on display for Burning Spice, who did not handle the situation well. He immediately rushes in to save them, but Silent Salt was much too swift for him. All the while, the player attempts to save themselves; trying to kick, scream, and squirm their way to freedom, but nothing works, they were a knight after all. Enraged, Burning Spice yells at Silent Salt that he'll get revenge, and he won't be alone. . !

(And before we go on any further, I personally like to hc that Silent Salt is both mute and deaf because 1. it matches with the new ancient heroes since Pure Vanilla is heavily implied to be blind; and 2. it'd make sense that the witches would want to make a disabled cookie. During their pre-corruption days, the five virtues also had to be role models for the cookies, thus they had to, at some extent, be relatable. So giving one of the virtues something that other cookies can relate to makes sense. Oh and as a bonus, Silent Salt is completely fluent in ASL and is fairly good at lip reading; Shadow Milk and Mystic Flour are also fluent in ASL and often act as their mouth pieces. Ok moving on!)

You'd think that the player wouldn't trust Silent Salt from the jump, given the circumstances & that this happened to them so many other times, and yet. . . Silent Salt was the only one to be considerate of the player's feelings before performing the act, they knew the player would be scared, if not terrified, of them, especially when you consider their appearance and quiet nature; thus they planted the letter to let them know. So although this doesn't mean the player fully trusts them, it is a step into the right path

How they view the player is a complete mystery, unlike the other beasts, it isn't just spelled out in ink. Instead, the player has to focus on their interactions and certain body language, since they can't speak

Similarly to Eternal Sugar, Silent Salt will often give the player gifts in an attempt to gain their trust. The main difference on the other hand was that those gifts were much smaller scale than what Eternal Sugar gave them, but still feel more thought out and genuine

*Lilac-colored curtain draped over large windows, comfortable sitting, and a bed that resembled a soft marshmallow, you had to admit, for living in a wasteland, they sure knew a thing or two about decor. But as you admired your new bedroom, you get a sudden knock on the door, and opening it a crack, you see Silent Salt, they appeared to be holding a few things*

"Oh! Silent Salt Cookie! What brings you-"

*Fully opening the door revealed what they were holding, a bouquet of beautifully made paper flowers in one hand, and a sliver tin, filled with salted chocolates in the other. Seeing the gifts, you were pleasantly surprised, not just by the tin of sweets but the paper flowers, so true to life and clearly made by them, you were amazed by the fact they were able to pull something like that off*

"Wow! are these for me?"

*The knight nodded their head, handing both gifts to you. Despite how small the gesture was, you still felt a tiny bit overwhelmed, the smallest hint of blush creeped onto your face*

"T-Thank you! They're lovely!"

Silent Salt was & still somewhat is known for their skills with a sword, thus the reason why their minigame is based on "Fruit Ninja." The player, instead of slicing fruit, is made to cut different pieces of paper according to a dotted line, in an attempt to mimic Silent Salt's paper flowers

While out exploring and doing tasks, Silent Salt will actually partner up with the player & help them, which is already a massive change from the player's other beast encounters. Either they'd find ways to stretch the task out even longer, or just not help at all, so having them there is a huge change of pace. They're always by the player's side, because of this, they can come off as clingy at times

They, like most of the beasts, give the player free range to do whatever, but is quick to set boundaries. The player isn't allowed to go into certain areas without their supervision, especially at night

*Lightly tracking your steps across cold floors, you carefully tiptoe through the Silent domain, moonlight streaking onto every nook and cranny acted as your only light source, which you tried to use to your advantage, the last thing you wanted was to be caught. But when you turned the corner, guess who you unceremoniously bumped into. . ? Pressed into their chest, you abruptly backed away startled & flustered realizing who it was, Silent Salt just looked at you, just like before*

"*Ah!-* Silent Salt Cookie. . ! It's not what you think. . !"

"I-I just have a few other things to do, that's all!-"

*The silent knight only stood there, arms crossed, making their stance all the more stern. You already had a good idea of what was going on in their head, no amount of convincing would change your fate. So with a sigh, you started heading back to your room, not before Silent Salt gently scoops you up, refusing to let you touch the floor, and carried you there themself. Blushing rapidly, you beg and plead for them to put you down, but failed miserably; why does everyone like carrying you so much. . ?*

Silent Salt treats the player like they're the most fragile thing on Earthbread, handling them with care and, with their position as a knight, more than happy to cater to their every need and desire

Due to their disability and limitations in lip reading, talking to them is difficult, creating this communication barrier between them and the player. This, however, doesn't stop the two of them from trying to fix the issue

That being said, Silent Salt most definitely wants to teach the player ASL so they can communicate easier. They made sure they'd take their time, teaching them all they need to know, starting with letters, to phrases, to full sentences. Even if the player struggles to learn at first, they're extremely patient with them, teaching things one step at a time

If it wasn't already obvious, Silent Salt is very delicate with their hands, due to their precise skills with a sword. Because of this, they picked up quite a few hobbies, like painting and drawing, clearly showed by the letter they made the player before, and surprisingly, braiding hair

*Slowly, the silent knight carefully overlapped strand after strand of hair from your head into beautiful braids. They put special care into each braid, constantly checking with you to make sure they were comfortable, even going the extra mile of creating more paper flowers to infuse into the braids. Sitting in front of the bedroom's vanity mirror, you were in awe at how perfect the braids were, your hair practically became an art project! Looking back at them, you couldn't see their face, but you could tell Silent Salt was genuinely enjoying themself, how they added flower after flower, even sometimes placing one directly onto your head; because well, why not? It was moments like this that made you think back to when you first met, back to when their silence felt alien to you, and how you were so unwilling to cooperate. . . Yes, you still didn't fully trust the knight, all of this just felt too perfect, almost too good to be true even, but it does. After placing the last flower, they were finally done, the braids were wrapped around your head and tied in the back with a purple ribbon*

If the hairstyle doesn't make them feel like royalty, then don't worry, Silent Salt had them covered. Cause not soon after doing their hair, they presented their outfit, which looked more like a gorgeous gown than any regular dress. Everything about it was perfect, the long white silk trin that partly touched the floor, the bow around the waste that matched your hair, the simple purple accents, its ruffled layers, everything. But possibly the most radiant part of the gown was these beautiful sewn in embroideries, each more beautiful than the last, all throughout. This was the straw that broke that camel's back, such actions of kindness couldn't go unrewarded; so through ASL, the player is able to sign phrases "thank you" and "sorry," to which Silent Salt immediately accepts. Quite a shame the player couldn't do more. . . The only two downside one could think of is that it strongly resembled a wedding dress, which can give the wrong ideas fast; also the gown length gives the possibility of tripping, but that's a simple price to pay

The relationship between the player and Silent Salt is mostly through action, and to some extent, physical touch. The player is always finding new and creative ways to repay them for everything they've done, often finding themselves cooking or cleaning for them, even gifting them drawings and paper creations they made themselves. Silent Salt does find this sweet and charming, but as a knight, they really have no desires. They crave the simpler things, like holding hands, learning ASL, or just being together in general. No amount of wasted paper would change that

Unfortunately, as stated before, not everything can be too blissful. . . Silent Salt is regularly shown to be extremely overprotective of the player, which does make sense considering their role; Silent Salt is a knight, keeping the innocent safe is their job, and the fact that the other beasts were also after them only made them double down on protecting them. Now, Silent Salt, before meeting the player, had no plans of escape, at least even they think of, in fact, became increasingly fond of their surroundings. . . Only when they learned the player did they start to reconsider. . . with a new opportunity, they couldn't simply pass it up. . .

Because of this, they've developed a 6th sense(or 5th or 4th) whenever they felt the player was in danger. Silent Salt can pick up signals of danger from miles away, and acts quickly ensure their safety, so imagine the player's surprise and confusion when being rushed somewhere else

*Everything was a blur. . . One second ago you and Silent Salt were spending time together per usual, before you knew it you were being pulled into your room, and Silent Salt was doing repeated checks on the door and windows, making sure they were locked. Confused, you try to stop them in their tracks, to get some sort of answer, but all they did was clutch both your hands tightly, looking you directly in the eyes; before abruptly letting go, telling you to never, for any reason, open the door or windows till they came back, then disappears, leaving you in a state of flustered shock. Even if completely unexpected on your end, it became increasingly clear why Silent Salt acted the way they did. . . with a battle axe, guess who was waiting just outside. . ?*

"Salty! right on time!~ It's been awhile, hasn't it?~"

*The knight merely stood there, sword in hand with a tight grip. They already knew what the brute was saying, him placing the axe's handle on the back of his neck as he began to walk towards them*

"Honestly, I'm pretty surprised Salty!~ Out of everybody here, it's you who'd be dumb enough to steal from me, me!"

"Cause when I think of stealing, I usually think of Shadow Milk Cookie, maybe Eternal Sugar Cookie if what we're after is really worth fighting for, but you?! *HA!* Didn't think of ya as the taking type!~"

"*Hmm. . .* I like it! You know I always love a good surprise?~"

*With every step he took, Silent Salt only further stood their ground, having already pulled their sword out from the dirt and getting into a battle stance. Upon reading their body language, his grin only got bigger, he knew exactly what was doing and actively stirred the pot. He put his hands up as he backed away in a condescending yet reassuring tone*

"*Woah!-* *Woah!-* Easy there buddy!~ Now I know what it looks like, but I promise, I didn't come here to cause trouble. . ."

"Instead, I'm looking for a little. . . exchange. . ."

*Burning Spice proceeded to hold his axe behind his back to make himself appear more innocent. All the while Silent Salt didn't once get out of their battle-ready mindset*

"Now I know I can be a little. . . hectic at times, but for this I'm willing to make one exception. . ."

"Say, I won't leave a scratch on your place, if you return what you've stole from me. . !"

"A simple deal, really!- You get out of this with no causalities, and I leave with that little cookie in tow!~ So what do ya say. . ?"

*Silent Salt was only getting parts of the Burning Spice's so called "deal," and already, they were not having it. . ! With just a blink of an eye, Silent Salt went from guarding their domain to holding the tip of their blade at Burning Spice's throat, as if they teleported, they were that fast. . ! Along with Shadow Milk's lies, none of the beasts were dumb enough to fall for one of his exchanges! The knight was clearly provoked; exactly what the brute wanted, so he kicked back far enough to pull his axe out from his back. Though the kick was strong, Silent Salt was still able to hold their ground, using their sword to keep their footing. There was a battle-hungry look in his eyes*

"*HA HA!* You just love surprising me, don't ya Salty?!"

*He then stretched his neck and shoulders, tense bones popped at the motion. Then proceeded to do his battle stance*

"Whatever! Wouldn't have worked anyway! Besides, no one gets dumber around here, right?! *HA!*"

"But one thing's for sure. . . Doesn't matter how tough you act. . . I'm not leaving without my pipsqueak. . !"

*His tone shifted to slight anger as his hair turned into bright flames. Having weapons drawn, it's clear as day as neither was willing to do what the other wanted, nor give in. Both had goals set in stone and willing to follow through with them; but just before they could actually strike at one and other. . .*

"*Yoo-hoo~* Up here!~"

"Apologizes for being so late you two, we've bumped into some. . . causalities. . ."

*In from above, flew in Eternal Sugar atop one of her clouds as Mystic Flour floated beside her, landing onto opposites of the brute and knight, creating this strange box. Burning Spice became all the happier, being the violence-obsessed cookie he was, this just maybe the fight more interesting for him. While Silent Salt was as stern as ever, despite being outnumbered*

"Misty! Sugar! Welcome to the party!! Just when things were starting to get interesting!~"

"*Ugh* Don't overexcite yourself Burning Spice Cookie, some of us only want this to be over with. . !"

*She has a quick glance at the beasts around her, just as annoyed of as before*

"So . . . I assume we all know about our new. . . 'inhabitant,' yes?"

*The silent knight nodded*

"*Pfft* *Uh Duh!-* What's was ya first clue?!"

"That's right! It's been far too long since I've seen another cookie, and when I finally find one, they're snatched from my hands!"

"Oh my poor little mouse!~ They must've been so lonely since they were taken away from me!"

"Being pushed and pulled by some brute and locked away by some scary knight?!~ What can be worse?!"

*Eternal Sugar whined and whined, nitpicking everything that she deemed "cruel treatment," and although most of the things said were true, Burning Spice couldn't help but take offense*

"Aye! What do ya mean by 'pushing and pulling around?!' I have you know I treat them with utmost respect and care!"

"*HA!* You call your so called 'training' of yours respect and care?! Don't make me laugh!"

"Unlike you, I provide my little mouse with everything they could ever need, everything they desire. . ! I make them happy! All your training does is ruin their perfect mind and body!"

*She looked over to her two other comrades*

"At least I can be assured that those two actually kept them safe, otherwise, I wouldn't know what I'd do. . ."

"Even Shadow Milk Cookie takes better care of my little mouse. . ."

*That's when most of the group realized a crucial detail, where the heck was Shadow Milk?! Unannounced to them, Mystic Flour already had a good idea of where he was, but waited to answer. . .*

"Oh yeah! Shadow Milk Cookie isn't here! Where is the guy anyway?!"

"When we found out the pika was being kept here, we came as soon as possible. But it wasn't long before Shadow Milk separated from us; we tried to pursue him but by then, he was already gone. . ."

"Perhaps we should wait for him. . .Knowing him, he likely has something planned. . !"

*With Shadow Milk being the smartest of their group, waiting for him seemed like the safest option, after all he was known for his tricks, who knows what he could be planning. Yet the brute and angel, who always had something to say, didn't have the patience for such. . .*

"And let him get another chance on stealing my little mouse away again?! Absolutely not!!"

"Yeah Misty, not having Shadow Milk Cookie around means less of us to get through, even if it is kinda boring! *HA HA!*"

"Wouldn't want his filth to rub off on my pipsqueak. . !"

*Eternal Sugar gasped in surprise and utter disgust*

"'Your' Pipsqueak?! are you delusional?! Clearly they're mine!!"

*Burning Spice cracked his knuckles, as he puffed his chest*

"Oh yeah?! Then why don't ya prove it?!"

*Mystic Flour groaned in irritation, if her eyes were open she would have definitely rolled them, this charade was going too far*

"*Ugh* You two are bickering like children! Could you at least not treat them like some object?! It's likely that the pika will return to me or Silent Salt Cookie, at least we don't see them as a mere pet. . !"

*Silent Salt nodded in agreement*

"And yet, I think we all know what we're really after. . . "

*With that sentence alone, it made Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar as quiet as Silent Salt was. . . The whole area was hushed, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. . .The four beasts side eyed each other, as if ready to duel; evidence was undeniably clear, they wanted to use you. . .for something? After keeping their running mouths shut for what felt like decades, Burning Spice finally breaks the silence, drawing his weapon, his patience was already dissolved. . .*

"Alright, that's it! We all want the cookie, and just sitting around isn't gonna help!"

"So, let's settle this. . . once and for all. . !"

"Agreed!"

"*Ugh* Suppose we should get this over with. . !"

*As Silent Salt drew their sword, the battle had began. The four played sides, the three of them trying to barge their way in, and Silent Salt trying to keep them out; and despite how unfair the fight seemed, not only were they evenly matched, but they all were fighting for themselves, for their own selfish goals, all of which surrounded getting to you. . . Speaking of that, you were once more left in the dark, spared from the situation. Not to say you aren't curious about what was going on either, in fact you were completely willing to open the windows to look outside if Silent Salt didn't tell you to keep them closed. Laying on top of the marshmallow bed, you stare up at the ceiling in boredom and something else. You received another to be alone with your thoughts, really rekindle and wonder. . . What the hell was going on?! First you were teleported to this strange place, then you were kidnapped five times, then you basically died and came back to life? Nothing about your situation was normal! Not to mention the cookies you're trapped with, if you can even call them "cookies" what even were they? You didn't know anything about them, what to feel about them, let alone if you could trust them or not. . . Questions were swimming in your head like fish upstream, feelings fighting for control in till. . .*

"*AH HAHAHAHA!~* no matter what, the story always stays the same!~"

*You hear a voice, a squeaky, arrogant, yet oh so voice. . . You look around in surprise, was that who you thought it was?!*

"That's right!~ The hero has arrived!~"

". . .To save his damsel in distress!~"

*CRASH!*

*Destroying one of the windows, bursts in the self-proclaimed trickster himself, Shadow Milk Cookie, the suddenness of the action making you fall off your bed startled and almost near giving you a heart attack. When hitting the ground, he did a quick barrel roll before landing on one knee in a sort of "ta-da!" position, acting like he didn't ruin a perfectly good glass plane, and much to your bewilderment. You quickly get up and stand towards him*

"S-Shadow Milk?! Are you ok?!"

"Awh~ Look at you!~ worrying for lil'ol me!~"

"I'm perfectly fine my little mousey!~ Absolutely splendid!~"

*You knew you should've expected a reaction like that from him of all cookies, but it didn't stop you from going dumbfounded*

"You just jumped in through a closed window!!"

*He then went on this long, overexaggerated, winded speech about how much he missed you, how you two had been separated for far too long, what lengths he had to go through just to get to you, but you were wise enough to know that he was partly spewing out lies. . . Mystic Flour knew he had a plan, and had a plan he did! whilst everyone else was occupied, he'd snuck in through a back window, unbelievable how such a cheap tactic was able to work. . . It wasn't long for Shadow Milk to notice the beautiful dress you were wearing, and lights up with glee, zipping toward you, and scaring you once more*

"And might I add, that is quite a marvelous gown you have on!~ *AH!* It makes you look so much more like a proper damsel!~ who made it?!"

"Well-. . ."

*He cuts you off before another word could come out of your mouth*

"-Oh, no, no, no, wait!- don't tell me, Silent Salt Cookie made this, didn't they?~"

"*AH!* It's such a no brainer!~ They make such amazing things, of course they'd make something this cute!~ I'm a little jealous!~ *hehehe!~*"

"*Whew!~* Okay, I think we had enough excitement for one day, hadn't we?~"

*He abruptly grabs your arm and pulls you close, startling you as blush begins to creep up your cheeks*

"Time to go home!~"

*It was the mention of "home" that threw you into a loop, what did he mean by "go home?!" Shocked, you pulled yourself away from the trickster, causing surprise and slight annoyance on his end*

"H-Home?! What are you talking about?!"

"Oh, you ask such silly questions, I'm taking you with me! Back to my humble abode!~"

Obviously, going back to the guy that had the player turned into two halves, is something that they aren't fully ready to do, thus are given the choice to go with him or not; to which both have different, yet very grim results. . . If they say yes, Shadow Milk Cookie will carry them out of Silent Salt's domain, not before being founded out by the other beasts, causing the player to be caught up within the drama, eventually getting stabbed through the chest from all the excitement. . ! On the other hand, if they say no, Shadow Milk with become more persuasive toward the player, reminding them of their time spent apart. If they deny him enough times, his patience begins to wane as his persona falls apart. Becoming more demanding till he snaps, forcing the player to leave with him; but it was already too late, as the other beasts had shown up, who aren't too happy about his late arrival, and chaos ensues, leading to the player getting decapitated. . !(Woooo-)

~Final~

The player ends up back at the top of the altar in the Silver Forest, completely passed out from the shock. All the beasts, after freaking out over their dead body, head there in a heartbeat, arguing over who'd be the one to take the player home, till Mystic Flour decides enough is enough, ending the argument and declaring the Shadow Milk should be the one to take in the player since he found them first, further saying that arguing wouldn't get them anywhere and wants to start a meeting before anyone else could argue back. . . Fast forward to Shadow Milk's base, the player is getting some well needed rest as the beasts are discussing what to do next, although it isn't entirely apparent that they remember how they got there, having them around could be beneficial to their much bigger goals. After a bit of talking, Shadow Milk conjures up a wonderfully, awful, idea. . . keeping the player as their hostage. . . Think about it! From the outside world, they already have reputations for being cold and cruel monsters, if they found out they had a cookie with them, they'd go nuts! Plus, who'd be more inclined to get involved? None other than the new Guardian Of The Seal, and Ancient Hero herself, White Lily Cookie. . . Long story short, they all agree with the plan, as it will guarantee their escape, and check on the player not long after, who was still passed out

*In your dormant state, you lay unconscious as all five beasts watched you, each of them claimed a corner of the bed. As they watched, Silent Salt noticed a slight twitching in your hand, and instinctively embraced theirs into yours, rubbing their thumb on your wrist. Not everybody took it well, cause Eternal Sugar shooed their hand away just a few seconds later*

"*Ugh* Get your hands away from them, you're ruining their slumber. . !"

*She turns back to you as her mood shifts from annoyance to gentle delight*

"Awh~ They look so precious!~"

*Burning Spice leaned forward on the bed to get a better look at you, he seemed upset*

"How long are they gonna be like this. . ? It's been awhile now. . ."

"Roughly a few hours, but I believe they will be awake by tomorrow. . . Poor thing, must have scared them quite a lot "

". . . I think it'd be wise to not tell the pika about our plan, after all, we did get this far with them"

"Right you are, my dear comrade!~"

"If it were to get out that we were keeping them for our own sake, it'd surely shatter any trust we might have, and we don't want them defying us, now do we?~"

*The other beasts agreed*

"*hehehehe!* So it's settled!~"

*Running a hand up your arm, the trickster looked back at you with his signature smile*

"*Hehehehe!*Oh be sure to get all the rest you need, my little mousey!~"

"Cause you'll be in for quite the performance!~"

And that's pretty much how the story begins, the player is their little doll for the time being, none the wiser about the beasts' plans for hostage type deal with The Guardian Of The Seal

(holy crap we're almost done, guess it's time to talk about some background and bonus info)

~Background~

You are playing as the new resident of the Faerie Kingdom, a half-faerie who grew up in Crispia. There, they are known for two things, having cookie genetics and being kinda an a*s, everything makes them unique compared to other faeries, especially the lack of wings on their back, and their personality isn't exactly a pocket of sunshine either. So throw that in a blender, and you got yourself unnecessary fame that many don't want. The player receives the full "little sibling treatment" with faeries being overbearing and constantly getting doted on. Which, of course, sucks, day by day, no matter where they go, they can't escape it! The only escape they have from it all is their day job, working as the librarian's assistant is when they could finally have some peace and quiet, alongside the librarian, who became the player's good friend

Ok! Bonus Stuff!

With the player's kidnapping and life within the Silver Kingdom, a few bonus relationships the player can have are with Silverbell, Mercury Knight, Pure Vanilla, and of course White Lily. SB and Mercury are like childhood friends/crushes, having met the player before the events of the main game, making the player more acquainted toward them. White Lily and Pure Vanilla on the other hand, take a parental role, acting as the player's protectors much later in the game. Both are relatively more alien to the player, especially White Lily, but the two quickly insert themselves, insisting that they only want to keep the player safe(which makes sense considering their mission is to protect Cookiekind, and the player certainly counts) Out of the two, it's White Lily we end up getting the closest with(a mother + child bond if you will), as Guardian Of The Seal, she was horrified to find out the player was being held hostage by the beasts, and wanted to do anything in her power to save them. She also took a liking to their personality (which's fine I guess???)

It may not look like it, but this game is all about choice. It's about the ideas and importance of choice, how decisions affect your life, how even bigger decisions are often made by selfish people, and (I'm probably gonna get publicly executed for this!-) how a democracy should be handled, because let's be honest, we need a better one. . . We'll see plenty examples of a bad democracy among the beasts, as Shadow Milk, the proclaimed "leader" constantly makes choices for others, in reality only thinking about himself; it's through the player he learns to give the others a say in the matter. Speaking of which, it's the player's choices that will have the most impact as the story continues, like how most games do, the only difference is that the game provides a much wider buffet of choices, making the opportunities endless!

.

.

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If you're reading this then, Congratulations!

You Made It To The End!

Here's A Trophy!🏆(for both me and you cause omfg this took FOREVER! I'm happy with the final result but like- I never thought this would take like 5 weeks to make ;w;)

If I could go back in time, I would've definitely made this shorter. . !

If you any other ideas for this strange fangame, then feel free to let me know!~

Ok, bye!~^^

*decomposes into the soil*

[delusional-day-dreamer]

New Year's Kiss - p.b

‣ paige bueckers x reader

‣ wc: 3567

‣‣ synopsis: you were known as one of the calmest, most well-tempered players on the ucon wbb roster. so what happens if you lose your cool for the first time in a game? takes place at the uconn vs notre dame game on dec 31, 2022: based off this post/req from my nonnie 🫶, and lowk inspired by paige's bloody nose at the uconn vs seton hall game!

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys.... i'm so sorry for being so inactive but the writer's block hit me HARD. I have a few more drafts in progress I hope to release this week, thank y'all SO MUCH for the support and patience! Also, for the opponent in this game i refer to her solely as the, "marquette girl", as i don't know their players that well and don't want to use an irl girl!

Up until the second half of the game, everything had been going decent for you. Sure, this game was one of the most aggressive of the season, but you were right in the peak of your season, so it made sense that emotions were running high with the pressure to do well.

But that didn't excuse the fact that the Marquette girl that had been assigned to defend you had been playing dirty the entire night. After the fucking hellish week you had just gotten through, this girl was about to be the straw that broke the camel's. your, back.

After Paige's acl tear in August and the work and energy you had been endlessly pouring into your game from the past two and a half years till now, you had basically solidified your place as one of the main starters on the team, which meant you were receiving a lot more consistent playing time. The thought of being a more prominent player on the team didn't panic you the way it might others, as you you were known for always being a very level-headed, reliable player under pressure, as you had been dubbed by the media as the "Silent Assassin". But tonight was proving to test your limits to the max.

Any time you were on the court for the first two quarters, the Marquette girl had been glued to you, illegally all up in your space, pushing and shoving at you, taunting you over and over again, and even tripping you once when you lunged for the ball. All of which she had done without receiving a single foul, which not only pissed you off, but also your teammates on the court, the players on your bench, and your coach.

And of course, the one time you had defended yourself against her in the second quarter was the only time the ref called a foul on both of you. She had nearly pressed herself up against you the second your hands came in contact with the ball, leaving you with no choice but to pass to your teammate Aaliyah to sink a layup, when she hooked her arm through yours and pulled just as the ball left your hands.

Her unnecessary aggression caused something to snap inside of you, as the second you felt her yank on your arm, you turned around to push her off of you, hard. She stumbled backwards a little bit, not tripping or hitting the ground in any way, but the damage had been done in the, very biased, eyes of the refs.

The two of you rapidly reacted, approaching each other as you were yelling out meaningless threats and a long string of curses. Thankfully, your teammates holding the two of you back firmly, preventing any further physical altercations.

The two of you both received technical fouls for the unnecessary physical contact and unsportsmanlike behaviour. However, the foul you received only irked you more. Why were the only fouls called on her when it involved you pushing back? Could they not see the way she was treating you the entire game?

And of course, Geno wasn't thrilled about one of his starters getting a tech in the first half of the game. While benched, he had chewed you out for losing your temper at her, especially for cursing, which was something refs never let slide. But his reprimands didn't hold the usual level of anger or frustration, as he internally agreed that the Marquette girl had it coming for her, but, he had to remain professional.

Of course basketball was a physical sport, and with aggression came some conflicts with other players, but her behaviour tonight was unprovoked and incredibly aggravating to you. Which only worsened in the third quarter.

After your tech, you had been trying your best to ignore the incredibly annoying actions of the Marquette girl, but you simply couldn't anymore after she had purposely elbowed you in the nose to make her shot.

You immediately stumbled backwards, folding over at the waist as your hands came up in an attempt to alleviate the intense throbbing your nose felt. You could feel the blood begin to dribble down to your lip as you walked over to the bench with Lou escorting you, awaiting the ref's call.

The refs decided to not call a foul on the other girl, claiming that she hadn't reached backwards on purpose, it was simply the angle of her basket and granted UConn two free throws. The call enraged you, and something inside you snapped. You very quickly forgot about the tissue you were firmly holding at your nostrils as you approached him, insisting with him that the call was blind and blatantly biased.

You hadn't noticed the blood resumed to flow down your face while arguing until it hit your mouth, but you paid no mind to the taste of iron that filled your mouth as you persisted angrily speaking to the ref.

"Paige, go get her before she gets another tech," Geno whispered into Paige's ears over by the bench.

She nodded at him, making her way over to you to pull you away from the ref who was now threatening to eject you from the game.

"Okay enough, you need to get checked out by the team medic," Paige wrapped her arm around your waist to pull you away from your heated conversation, despite your struggle against her. She wasn't that much taller than you, but the extra two ish inches she had on you were proving useful right now.

She dragged you over to the bench, ignoring your many protests. She pried the used, bloody tissue out of your fingers to toss to the medic waste bag, grabbing new ones from her hand to help your bloody nose. It was apparent to everyone on your team, even the fans watching, that your stubbornness wouldn't allow you to accept the call that easily and allow the medic to clean you up. So, Paige would just have to do it herself.

Since your first day on the Uconn campus, you and Paige had become extremely close. With the two of you being assigned roommates your freshman year, the COVID year, it would've been impossible to not become best friends, considering the fact that you spent all of your time together.

If not at practice or hanging out with the team, the two of you were trapped inside your dorm, forced to find company within each other for the entire year. And with Paige's injury her sophomore year, you were one of the only people she was able to open up to, other than Azzi, and you had become her comfort during her rehab time, both then and now. Despite no longer being roommates, you two still always hung out at each other's respective dorm, even having frequent sleepovers.

Your incredibly close relationship wasn't left unnoticed by the media either, especially social media platforms like tiktok. When Paige and Azzi denied the relationship allegations at the same time you made it clear that you liked girls, the internet quickly refocused their attention onto you and Paige, and neither of you had the heart to deny any rumors circulating. Considering that after Azzi, you were the least active on your social media when it came to anything other than basketball, it wasn't too hard to ignore the internet's speculation.

All of which to say, Paige had made it incredibly easy for you to catch feelings for her. Until her, you had never known what it was like to be completely head over heels for someone. The way your heart skipped any time the two of you made eye contact, the way your cheeks flushed when she brushed against you, and the chemistry the two of you shared on and off the court was undeniable.

Unbeknownst to you, she felt the exact same way, and for the last two years, everyone but you two could see the feelings you harbored for each other.

If only you could feel the way her heart was beating as she held your face in one hand, using the other to apply pressure to your nose and wipe away at the blood on your face, neck, and jersey as she listened to you rant about the refs and how they were cheating you guys out of fouls the entire game. Although, she wasn't able to focus on the words coming out of your mouth, only the plumpness of your lips as they moved, something you noticed as your verbal attack slowed down so you could take a breath in between your sentences.

"She's literally fucking stuck up my ass and the refs ignore her which is actual bullshit, the amount of times this girl has literally made unnecessary contact or-, Paige are you even listening to me?"

Her lingering gaze on your mouth quickly snapped up to your eyes, a sheepish smile settling onto her now flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah sorry."

She wiped the remaining blood from around your nose before calling over the medic to check your nose. A small bruise had formed near the bridge, but thankfully it wasn't broken. While she was checking your nose, Paige did her best to avoid meeting your curious stares.

Of course the two of you had small moments where you could envision that Paige felt the same for you. But never one that was so blatantly obvious as her staring at your lips, especially so publicly.

Nonetheless, you barely had time to analyze the interaction before the medic was clearing you to return to the game, Paige patting your butt (this) as you jogged by her to sub back into the game, which, until the handshake line, went without any further incidents, despite your team beating them by 13 points (HVL VS TEXAS Y'ALL).

When passing by you, you heard her mutter under her breath, "fucking bitch," in response to your half-hearted, "good game". It was safe to say you didn't take that well, responding to her with, "you wanna come say that to my fucking face? Pussy ass bitch." For both of your sakes, Dorka and one of her teammates were able to keep pushing the two of you down the line and out to the lockers before the post-game conference with Lou, Nika, and Dorka, which Geno insisted you attend to apologize for your behaviour.

***Small Time Skip***

"So Y/N, the multiple incidents that occured tonight with you and (BLANK) from Georgetown, do you have anything to say about them? I mean, you're known for being a very calm and collected player, but tonight we saw a very different side of you," a reporter questioned you. The questions for you from tonight's post-game conference mostly avoided the fight, treading the waters carefully as it was unlike anything you had ever been involved in.

"I'm not gonna try and cover for myself or anything, it was unprofessional and unacceptable for me to lose my temper on the court like that. Like you said, I've always tried to place an emphasis on just basketball when playing and avoid any other personal feelings or problems, but I guess tonight I didn't do as good of a job on that as I could of. This is something that I will keep in mind for all of our upcoming games as that's not the kind of image or reputation I want to set for myself or the team I represent. I would never want this kind of behaviour to be defining moments from our games because my teammates really put their all into every single one of their games, especially tonight's, and I don't want to create any personal animosity with the girls on the Marquette team, as I have a lot of respect for them."

Your diplomatic and cordial answer had appeased majority of the reporters, along with Geno and the team publicist in the back corner of the room. Except for one nosy reporter who seemed unhappy with your tactful response and was practically feining for drama.

“This one is for y/n, but with the events of today, you mentioned that you try to keep all personal feelings off the court. Is that an implication of some external underlying tension or problems between you and number (BLANK), as the two of you got quite physical today?”

What the fuck? Now they really were trying to start something between the two of you that never existed in the first place.

“No not at all. I have no connection with number (BLANK) off the court and don’t even personally know her. As I mentioned before, I have nothing but respect for the girls at Marquette and there are no hard feelings on my end. You know, basketball is a physical contact game and that just means that there a few rough moments here and there, it’s just part of the game.”

If they ask any more stupid questions about you and the Marquette girl you were actually gonna lose your mind. Especially if they somehow tie in the fact that you like girls with the fight.

Which, thankfully, they ended up dropping the fight for the rest of the interview, and you and the others were finally allowed to go out and celebrate New Year's Eve the way they had originally planned to.

The whole team, and Kayla of course, was prepared to celebrate at your favorite local bar, Ted's. All of the girls who were taken were bringing their partners along and those of you who were single were all ready to hunt someone down for a drunken kiss at midnight. Except you.

You were far too down bad for Paige to even fathom kissing someone else at the moment, especially not while going out with her and the rest of the team, who all knew about your ginormous crush on Paige.

Nonetheless, you still did your best to get ready quickly, wearing your baggiest pair of low-rise cargo pants and a very cropped white halter tank top in an attempt to cheer yourself up from the fact you wouldn't have a New Year's kiss this year, again.

But by the time you were throwing back shots at the bar like they were water, you couldn't find it in you to care about how single you were. It was common knowledge that you weren't the best at holding your liquor, as the team often made fun of your ability to get drunk off of two to three shots, which is exactly the position you found yourself in.

Until, of course, "guardian angel Paige" decided she needed to intervene in your drinkfest, walking up to your barstool and effectively cutting you off by having the bartender replace your drink with a regular shirley temple just before midnight so that she, or any of your other friends, wouldn't have to deal with you throwing up at four in the morning.

"You gotta go easy on the shots y/n/n, you're gonna hate yourself in the morning if you keep drowning your liver in alcohol."

"Funny, coming from Storrs's resident party girl, Miss Madison," you teased. There were only about twenty minutes left until bar's tv would depict the ball dropping in New York, and the disparity of your situation had begun to sink in.

Not only would you be suffering through another New Year's with no midnight kiss, but you had no relationships since last year or even a single talking stage, no potential relationship prospects for the future, and worst of all, no Paige.

"Yeah well, at least I can hold my drinks. You, on the other hand, are the most lightweight out of all of us. Besides, what happened to your little New Years tradition, the whole eating the grapes thing to find the love of your life or whatever?"

You went off on a little drunken tangent at this, complaining that it was completely ineffective, but also, the fact that it made you look stupid in front of the entire team when absolutely nothing came out of it.

"I mean it's so dumb. I don't get why my love life is so barren, like actually non-existent, it's not like I'm super unattractive or anything like that. Right? But like, I don't even have a midnight kiss this year, again," you grumbled to Paige, unaware of the way she was staring at your lips for the second time today, mesmerized by their movements.

"You are most definitely not unattractive. You're like one of the most attractive people I know. Besides, it's not like I'm kissing anyone this year," Paige reassured you, and somehow, your drunk brain simply did not process the way she had flusteredly complimented you.

"Yeah but you're Paige Bueckers," you emphasized, "you could kiss anyone in this bar if you wanted. Men and women, single and taken, would literally form a line two blocks down if you even mentioned wanting to kiss someone," you gazed up at Paige from your leaned position against the bartop, watching as the gears turned behind her eyes.

"Anyone in the bar? Like, anyone at all?" She asked you curiously, a small smirk graced her features as she peered down at you.

"Yeah probably, but there's only like two minutes left or something, so you should pick someone soon."

"Oh I already have someone picked out, I just don't know if they would kiss me back."

"Oh?" You felt your stomach drop at her statement, and you couldn't stop the jealousy from coursing through your veins if your life had depended on it. But Paige's unwavering gaze never left your face, and you could feel your cheeks flush at the way she was intently looking at you.

"Quite the staring problem tonight P?"

"Well it's pretty hard to not stare at the prettiest girl in the room," she flirted, scooting closer to you, effectively closing some of the distance between you two.

"I-, what?" You stuttered, taken back by Paige's actions.

"How many hints does I have to drop before you finally start picking up on them? I want to kiss you y/n, I want you."

The ten-second countdown had begun as Paige confessed to you, and you were left gawking at Paige's face, your heart threatening to give out from how fast it was beating.

"FIVE, FOUR,"

You yanked on Paige's belt loop, pulling her flush against your body as your eyes focused in on her lips.

"THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!""

Your right hand reached up to grab Paige's jaw at the end of the countdown, pulling her lips firmly down onto yours. The bar's loud chants barely registered to you as you lost yourself in the intoxication of Paige's lips. Your tongue glided across her lip as your mouths moved in unison, causing her to groan into you. You took it as an invitation to slip your tongue into her mouth, the kiss deepening with unrestrained passion.

Your built-up need for each other was apparent as you made out, sending shivers down your spine at the pressure of her mouth against yours. It felt as if she was the oxygen you needed to breathe, and now that you had her, there was no way you could let her go now.

***The next morning: New Year's Day***

Your eyes fluttered open with a pounding headache, yet, the utterly familiar weight of a certain pairs of hands around your waist provided a sense of comfort you knew only she could provide.

Paige's soft snores rung out throughout the room, and as you gently reached forward to her nightstand to grab your phone off charging, you realize it was still extremely early in the morning, not even eight a.m.

And yet, your phone was blowing up with notifications from all social media platforms, even your text messages had over a hundred notifications.

Confused, you click on the apps to check what all the fuss was about, quickly realizing what had happened.

The entire interaction between you and Paige at the game was recorded by the cameramen and had instantaneously made it's way all over the internet, only fueling the dating rumors about the two of you.

The comments and posts were going feral at the way Paige was the only one who could calm you down, the way she wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you back, her holding your face ever so delicately, her smacking your butt as you ran back onto the court, and of course, her transparent staring at your lips the entire time you were an inch apart from her.

"What are you looking at baby," Paige sleepily mumbled into your neck, tightening her grip around your waist to pull you further into her, slinging her right leg over your waist.

You put your phone down and turned in her hold, wrapping your arms around her body as you peered down at Paige's sleepy face, admiring how beautiful she always looked.

"Your fans are going crazy about how obviously down bad you are for me P," you teased, running your foot up and down her calf as Paige pressed her face into your chest to absorb your body heat.

"Let them, just go back to sleep with me for a little bit longer."

And of course, how could you ever say no when your girlfriend was asking you so sweetly?

a/n: thank you for reading all the way through, and i'm so sorry if the ending is kinda rushed, i just wanted to finally get another fic out 🤗

[nanaminokanojo]

Honey, Oh Sugar, Sugar

JJK men as your sugar daddies and what happens when you tell them you're breaking​ things off cause you've secretly fallen for them and "breached" the contract. Or me just being hung up on the whole concept of sugar daddies cause I don’t wanna work anymore and I need Nanami in my life.

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo x you/afab reader TW/CW: angst | smut/implied smut | sorta dubcon | age gaps | aged up characters | kind fluffy | mentions of alcohol/drugs | some mafia stuff | mdni Word Count: 8.1k

MASTERLIST

NANAMI

'I can't see you right now.'

Those words glared at you, sharp black slashes that marred the white backdrop of your screen. They may not carry much weight without context, but they broke you a thousand times weighed on you like the sky had fallen over, crushing you as you heard the voice behind the words, making you regret every other choice you've made so far.

They blurred out as tears started to flood your eyes, falling on the device in your hand, but the pain they caused didn't fade in the least. If anything, you felt exponentially worse, enough to make you wish for death. It was more for the fact that you knew it was your fault, a result of your weakness and lack of prudence, your over-estimation of yourself and biting off more than you can chew. 

Still, how were you to know back then? How the fuck were you supposed to know that things would end up making you feel as miserable as you did? How the fuck could you have been able to tell that you'd be wishing to tear yourself away from the only thing that seemed to make your life make sense? 

If you were told that gods existed and walked in Prussian blue button-downs and khaki shorts as they surveyed their domain from the balcony of their private beach houses, you wouldn't have believed it. But Nanami Kento came into your life in that same exact form, a stoic, tall blonde, ten years your senior, successful in all his endeavors but always too busy for anything. 

Nanami Kento was your best friend's neighbor – at least at their beach-front rest house. It was funny how he was supposed to be this well-known yet aloof individual in the community. And yet, the moment you were introduced to him, he purposefully made a way to be around you where you fell into easy conversation with him. Your friend told you their neighbor hardly ever stayed at his summer retreat for longer than two days, popping out one day only to be replaced by the caretakers who would then tell them that "Nanami-san had an emergency business trip." On top of that, he never really showed up when your friend's parents would invite him for whatever, consistently declining politely, but because of you, he finally honored one of their invitations. 

However, it made you wonder what he found so interesting in a university student like you when his life was so much more exciting, being the founder of his own company. He was a bachelor at thirty two, and he's got everything figured out while you were in the final year of your higher education, and you still didn't know what to do with your life. 

The reason became evident when you met him again after insisting that you should before you parted that evening at the beach, even leaving you his calling card. 

How your conversation went from how his work was going and how your studies were to his proposition for you to be basically his sugar baby was something you couldn't fathom at that time. He just went on about coming clean and expressing his real intentions, then later asked you to think about it before dishing out a conversation about how the two of you should meet again to draft the parameters of your arrangement. Nanami later apologized, smiling apologetically for startling you – the biggest understatement of the century – adding that he wasn't one to beat around the bush. 

"I hope I didn't scare you away," he said when dropping you off to campus.

A week later, you signed a contract with him, and then he kissed you, taking your breath away instead of shaking your hand to seal your pact. Everything went smoothly. It seemed a good idea back then. Boy you wished there was a time when you could have been more mistaken in your life. 

You let out a mirthless laugh as you realized you were at the end of the rope regarding Nanami. You cannot handle it anymore when, for the past half year, you've been putting off talking to him about the state of matters from your end. You know you're breaching your agreement, which is a testament to the reality of your liaisons. You failed at keeping it emotionless, evidently, and every single time you think about coming clean and facing rejection, you felt like cowering in fear. 

You already know how binding those agreements were. Nanami had been clear about what he wanted, and you also agreed because you thought you wanted precisely that – an arrangement without commitment, one you can easily get out of without issues. He would not want you if he knew the truth, and although it took far too much strength and courage to accept it, you managed. But now that you have finally decided to speak to him, he tells you he can't be there. Then again, you didn't even have the right to demand his time. 

It came in a cocktail of emotions when you realized you didn't want his money or anything else he had to offer. You only wanted one thing: his heart. Too bad it was off the table. It's not something he offered to ever be in your contract. 

You hated yourself for being weak, for opening up when you should have remained frozen even towards him. But you couldn't help it when your heart started confusing his caring side for actual feelings over his usual acts of reminding you that he was still the older one between you and actually had the responsibility to take care of you whether you've got an arrangement or not.

You sure as hell didn't regret the perks that came with it – trips to any place you could name, things you get with just one word, and the amazing love-making that came with it. Nanami was a great lover. It never just felt like sex in a transactional manner. It always showed how much of a sensitive soul he is, how much he cared for you. But it's not exactly in the way you wanted it.

"I like you, and I enjoy your company, but being me, this is all I can offer at the moment."

Those were his words, and though it's not explicitly written in the contract, you knew it was over when you started perceiving him as the center of your universe. That was no good, and maybe he knew, considering how he had been "too preoccupied" when you said you wanted to talk. Suddenly, he didn't have time for you, but you wanted to tell him of your decision to end matters in person. He deserved that, at least. Nanami was just too good, and you didn't want him to do the guesswork.

That same night, you walked out of the luxury flat he rented for you, packing a bottle of wine, which you ended up drinking at your best friend's house.

You woke up the next day, still groggy from all the alcohol you drank, to the sound of your best friend speaking angrily to someone in hushed tones. She was telling someone off and threatening them about answering if something ends badly, but then you hear your name.

"Y/N's a really sensitive person underneath regardless of what she says," she tells whoever she is talking to. You don't hear the response to her statement, but there was a long pause, and then you hear the front door open and close with her declaration to give this person their space.

It wasn't long before the guest room door opened, and you found yourself face-to-face with Nanami. You motioned to get up, but he shook his head and sat beside you on the bed.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, straight to the point as always. You didn't expect anything less, but you couldn't look him in the eye as you said, "I can't do this anymore." 

Much to his surprise, you started crying the moment you spoke. It was so atypical of you to show him any kind of weakness, always so independent in your actions and words that he felt useless at times, so he found the need to reach out and hold you.

You flinched. "Please don't."

Nanami sighed, running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. For the first time, you notice how it's not fixed the way it should be and how he has dark rings under his eyes, his cheeks a bit sunken. He looked at you, expressions unfathomable, but you saw how he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Why not?"

His question angered you, that much he could tell, and it was obvious how you were trying your very best to calm down. You sat up and he felt the need to brace himself for whatever you will say.

"I'm ending this...this..."

"Arrangement," he supplied for you, to which you nodded, the sting of that word evident on your face. "Yes, that."

He nodded in understanding, but he stared you down with a pensive look on his handsome face, and you wanted just to run before you fell even harder. "May I at least know why?"

You bit your lower lip, looking elsewhere but him as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You didn't know how on earth you were going to explain it to him in detail, but as he gave it to you straight and simple, you thought it best to do the same. It would be self-explanatory anyway.

Wringing your fingers, you all but whispered, "Kento, I'm in love with you." When he didn't speak, you started rambling on about how you knew things wouldn't change if you said it and that he's got more important things to deal with over your "childish feelings" but that you can't help it.

"Say that again," he told you.

"What?" You didn't realize he had moved closer, his face merely inches from yours and his other arm caging you on your spot.

"The first thing you said. Say it again." He sounded commanding as he was used to, but then he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, feeling defeated. "Please?" he said, sounding small, unsure.

You wiped the tears off your face, sniffling. You've resigned yourself to the bad outcomes of your actions. "I'm in love with you."

"If that's the case, wouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Because you said you could only offer me this arrangement."

At that, he looked up at you, cupping your face with his hands and staring you straight in the eyes, eyes you couldn't lie to. You were somewhat surprised that he didn't have a single clue as to what had been ailing you as perceptive as he was. Then again, maybe you were just too good at hiding it until you weren't, everything hidden behind the smokescreen of your physical intimacy and the pretty smiles you would offer his way.

"Be honest with me. Did it ever feel like it's just that?" he asked cautiously, groping for words.

This time, you couldn't hold back and began tearing up again, your anger finally rearing itself on the surface. "That's exactly the problem!" You pried his hands off of you and stood up. "I can't figure you out, and I don't want to be confused anymore. We had an agreement, I know that, and I'm sorry, but it hurts too much knowing you can give me anything I ask for but not what I want the most."

He also stood up, invading your space and pulling you towards him. He wasn't about to just lose you, not without a fight. Nanami made you look at him, his arm around your waist tight as he commanded your attention but still gentle and giving you your leeway to run if you wanted. You, on the other hand, didn't need much restraining nor convincing as you found yourself looking into his eyes and wanting nothing but to be close and be able to hold him, own him and all that he is, love him, and love him hard, love him over and over again, surrender your heart and let him have you even if you knew he could never give it back.

But all your notions were dispelled with a few choice words. "You never asked."

"I – what?"

"The thing you want the most that you claimed I can't give you. You never asked for it."

Ah. You chuckled without humor. Of course, it's on you for not asking. "Because I can't! That's not how it works. It's not my place to ask. I've no place of that nature in your life."

"Really now, Y/N?" Nanami looked stung, annoyed even, when typically, he wouldn't even show you a disapproving look at your worst behavior around him.

"It's okay. This is on me." You stepped back from him, resigning yourself to the idea of not seeing him again and saying goodbye. "And I know you're busy, so don't worry about me. I just really wanted to tell you personally, at least. I'll be fine."

"I won't be..."

"Stop it! You said so yourself –"

"I said 'at the moment' back then if I remember it correctly?"

You shrugged. "Kento, you don't have to hyper-analyze what you said back then. Don't stress –"

At that, his expressions changed, and he appeared manic, so different from his calm and composed demeanor. "This is stressing me out."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

You shook your head. Pity was the last thing you needed, and hearing those words in such a context, even less so. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. You can't just assume things like that. And though I detest confrontations like this, I'm prepared to be in conflict with you for it if it means you stay with me."

You smiled ruefully at him, coming closer to hug him, holding onto whatever you could while you still had time, taking in the way he smelled, the way his hair felt against your palms. "You're really too nice. Don't say things like that even if you feel bad for me. You don't have to."

Nanami sighed again, looking absolutely tired, but had it in him to smile despite your words. "Y/N, I just got the shovel talk with your best friend after I told her I love you – rather graphic, too – and you're telling me you don't have a place in my life? I would not even be here if you didn't matter to me. You, of all people, should know that I don't waste my time on things I don't find worthwhile, but I am here, am I not?"

You felt your heart thundering in your chest as you minced his words, unable to process everything at the moment, but you found yourself overwhelmed with joy that your feelings weren't one-sided. "You are."

"But you're right, so let's end this arrangement."

Swallowing hard, you nodded.

"Let's make this the real thing without agreements and roles. What do you say about that?" He tilted his head to have a closer look at you. 

Everything be damned, but you were taking your chances. "Okay," you whispered.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, too. If it's my heart you want, you can have it. It's yours. All yours, my sweet."

You bit your lower lip, fighting a smile as you glanced at him from under your lashes, not trusting yourself to speak.

Nanami leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he held you closer. "I love you," he repeated.

"I know."

He chuckled. "Now you know. But that's not what I want to hear, Y/N. I said, I love you."

Instead of a response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you stood on your toes to claim his lips with yours, your toes curling as he reciprocated in kind. This one felt different, not like some sort of transaction or a thank you for the things he provides for you. It felt like the real thing...like love.

"Then I love you, too."

TOJI

"She's an associate, Y/N. Stop being such a brat," Toji tells you the moment he arrived at the penthouse where he was housing you a good hour after you stormed out of the party he was hosting. You looked over your shoulder to find his tall, broad form leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and...smirking.

"Or are you doing this on purpose 'cause you want daddy to punish you, hmm?"

You scoffed as you angrily wiped your tears, entering the walk-in wardrobe and slamming the door shut. You just wanted to be away from him, be able to think without him influencing your thoughts. If Fushiguro Toji was a drug, he'd most certainly be heroin – absolutely addictive with slim chances to none in terms of recovery, but you still wanted more, more, and some more. And you fell right into that trap, very much aware of it all.

You were a budding freelance journalist who got into a tangle with his organization after a wrong lead. He had been nice to you on the get-go, the understanding and very accommodating kumicho letting Miss Nosey off the hook. You kept running into him after that until one drunken evening at one of his clubs, where he had to rescue you from a guy who couldn't take no for an answer.

He drove you home, and instead of getting out of his car, the two of you got talking, and he started showing you pictures of his adorable son. And after fucking you senseless in that same car, he offered you an arrangement you thought you couldn't refuse at that time.

Slowly, you found yourself weaving into Toji's complicated life and seeing beyond just the ruthless gang leader who showered you with everything and anything he could give. The sky is the limit where Toji was concerned, and he was outrageous about the presents he would give you. But that always came with a catch. He took as much as he gave, probably more, and he was possessive of you. It wasn't healthy how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted while your rewards came with limitations attached to them.

Still, you stayed and got lost in the maze that was the workings of his mind and his personal life, which was just about his little boy. You instantly fell in love with Megumi and, in the process, with Toji himself. You know that now without a doubt, and it scared the living daylights out of you.

That realization came gradually. At first, you chalked it up to just a physical response, inducing chemicals in your head that gave you the illusion and delusion of emotional affection. What's love got to do with it, right? At first, it was little things like wanting to see him at the most random times of the day, missing him, and such. Then it escalated into incremental degrees of possessiveness, which you thought was fair given his inclination to call you his, be that in words while he's balls-deep in you or the way he would suddenly hold onto you with those large hands in the presence of others.

And quite frankly, you seemed to have picked up on that habit the wrong way, learning to reciprocate in the same way. It was messy business at best, but then again, it started just as messy.

The thought and reality of it hadn't felt as real as it did when you saw another woman clutching just as possessively at his arm. It seemed innocent, but seeing those blood-red nails brushing on his muscled arms as if their owner had any right to do it or had probably staked their claim made your blood boil, and your heart break. All the while, in your head, you were repetitively saying, "He's mine. I had him first."

You're in love with him, and that's a fact. Because why else would you be having such intense emotional outbursts over the fact that he was dangling another woman in his arms? It's a fact you didn't want to face anyway. He's supposed to be your sugar daddy, nothing else. It came with its perks, but you're human, and Toji is irresistible in more ways than one and never limited to just how he satisfies you physically. You loved him, his son and everything that he is included.

And you thought it had to stop. He didn't see you that way.

You emerged from the wardrobe, pulling a suitcase behind you, and suddenly, tension filled the air as Toji straightened to his full height, sapphire eyes shifting between you and the luggage. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. Gone was his playful mood from earlier, replaced by something darker. He wasn't expressive, almost always looking bored out of his wits, and his facial muscles only rearranging in minute details to convey change, but it was enough to tell you to be on guard.

You walked towards him, mustering all your courage as you said, "I think we should end this."

"Because you're jealous?" He arched a brow at you. "I already told you –"

You shook your head, reaching up to touch his cheek, smiling as you traced downward before running your thumb against the scar at the side of his lips. While it made him look like a hooligan, you always thought it was a part of his charm. "That's hardly the issue here. As cliché as it is, it's not you; it's me. Thank you for everything, Toji. Give my love to Megumi."

At that, he chuckled. "And you expect me to just sit back with that sorry excuse? What do you take me for?"

Your eyes flashed in anger at the way he was undermining the circumstances. "Toji, I'm serious. It may be a sorry excuse for you, but it's not the same for me."

He stepped closer, looming over you. "So, speak up. Do I look like I'm playing here, sweetheart?"

"I...I can't..."

"What now?" He smirked, but you saw hurt cross his features, making you hesitate. It was too late when you realized you were stuck between a hard place and Toji, literally and figuratively. Your back hit the wall, and a second after, he slammed a palm just beside your head, staring you down. "I'm just a lowlife so I don't even deserve any proper explanation, is that it?"

"What? No! That's the last thing on my mind!" you retorted.

"So what? You're done writing your little reveal-all piece on me, so you're cutting me loose?"

How dare he, you thought. You were faithful to your agreement with him, and not once did you ever think of betraying him like that. Again, you were overwhelmed by the intensity of how you felt for him. You shook your head, trying to hold it in when your feelings were close to slipping out of your lips from the tip of your tongue. You didn't like the way he was looking at you as if you murdered his son and only family, but why were you making him angrier?

"If that's what you want to think, then fine."

"So fucking tell me, woman!"

"You should know by now that your intimidation tactic doesn't work on me," you told him dryly.

"You really are my woman," he says proudly, almost love-struck, but you weren't about to buy it.

"Let me go."

"And if I don't?"

"You wouldn't like what I will do, Toji."

"Oh, is that so?" Toji wasn't a patient man, but he always took his time with you, and that trait of his was proven to you for the first time when, in the next moment, you found yourself upside down after he hauled you onto his shoulder and easily carried you to the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on the mattress, but upon realizing what he was about to do, you started beating him on the chest with your fists, tears spilling out of your eyes. It was futile, you knew that, but you still wanted to get away from him. He easily pinned your hands down, silencing your protests with his lips as he took possession of yours. And just like that, you were docile as a kitten under his mercy and the heat of his touch.

"Do you still wanna leave me?" You just glared at him, your lack of response making him grit his teeth and tear the dress you were wearing off of you.

"Toji, what the – mmph!"

Again, he swallowed your words, his hands roaming over your now naked body. He pulled back only to say, "I'm giving you a chance to talk now, darling. Don't waste it." He then started kissing your neck, going lower and lower, the sounds he was making distracting you. "I'm listening, Y/N. And don't give me another bullshit excuse."

Your misery mingled with the carnal pleasure he was pulling out of you, coming in rivulets of tears as you half-sobbed, half-moaned at the way he was touching everything his hands could reach while he ground his crotch against yours.

"Toji, please stop," you pleaded, and he did, flashing you a pained look. For the first time, it seems that he was showing you the real person behind all the facade, the version of Fushiguro Toji exclusively reserved for Megumi.

He sat on his haunches, looking down at your vulnerable form as you covered your face with your arms and continued to sob. "I-I'm sorry..."

"No. I'm sorry," you answered between deep draws of breath. You weren't crying because of what he was doing. It was more for the fact that you were hurting him as much as your arrangement was hurting you. "But what the hell can I do?"

He hovered over you, prying your hands away from your face as gently as he could and peppering your face with kisses. "What is it, darling? Come on, tell me."

"I broke our agreement..." You looked away from him.

He eyed you quizzically. "And how did you do that?"

"By falling in love with you." You finally met his gaze. "I know you said our liaisons will not go beyond just what we really are to each other, but I couldn't help it. I care for you and Megumi, so much so that I want to be a genuine part of your lives. And it's not my place to ask, so I'm sorry."

To your surprise, he laughed, like really laughed, and you haven't felt so embarrassed in your life after pouring your heart out to him. You wanted the whole place to crumble into a pit and take you with it. 

When he was calm enough, he said, "Fucking finally!"

"What?"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say that to me?"

You paled but at the same time, you felt your face getting hot, realizing what he meant. "You knew?"

"From the moment it happened, yes. You think you can just walk out on me like that?" He shook his head. "Don't act like you don't know me at all."

"Y-you –" You didn't know what to say, getting up halfway only to be met with a scorching kiss that left you breathless.

Toji undid his pants, letting his cock spring free, and then lifted you onto his lap, holding you close. "I knew you were made for me the moment Megumi's eyes lit up the first time he asked if you were gonna be his new mommy."

"He did?" you asked in muffled tones against the crook of his neck.

"So what do you say? 'Cause I was dying to say yes." He kissed your temple, and underneath, you could feel him preparing to align himself with you.

You pulled away, holding his head between your hands as you looked at him in disbelief. "You were?"

He rolled his eyes. He really wasn't good at this. "Yes, darling. Now, are you still gonna leave me? Us?"

You pouted. "You're not just using Megumi to make me stay, right?" You gasped when he nudged your entrance, knowing he's got you in the bag. "I won't even let you near my son if I didn't want you as much as I do. But I got the best wingman, no?"

You just stared at him in disbelief but he prompted you by thrusting upward and breaking you away from your reverie, a high-pitched moan ripping out of your throat.

"Come on, Y/N. Decide so I can love you as much as you want me to." He grinned deviously at you. "Not that I plan to do otherwise if you decide to go."

"And if I go anyway?"

He smirked. "I don't know, love. I'm yakuza after all."

"Is that a threat?!" You smacked him on the chest, earning you a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. "Yes. Can I love you now?" he asked and you swore he looked just like Megumi when he would beg you for goodies. So, how can you say no to that?

~*~

GOJO

"Where have you been?"

The silence you expected to arrive to at the penthouse was broken the moment you walked by the vast living room. You almost dropped the red heels you held when you heard that familiar voice echo through the room, quiet yet deadly.

You visibly froze before turning around to see the owner of the voice. He looked upset, those usually bright orbs of aquamarine having turned into cold, hard gems as they regarded you. The darkness of the room that surrounded him like a miasma didn't help in quelling the tension in the room. If there was one thing Gojo Satoru hated, it's when he is disobeyed, and you flouting his orders and going out to party wasn't an exception. Sure, he doted on you and always showered you with gifts and affection, but being part of his world meant you needed to follow strict rules in exchange for the lavish life he provided for you.

You knew you should not have gone anywhere apart from your university and the place you called home. You knew you should not have given his men trouble by thinking you were at home after you snuck out, but you thought, why not? Gojo wasn't supposed to be back until the following day anyway, "Negotiations," he called them. You didn't want to feel alone in such an empty space, which was becoming more frequent as of late. You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you refused to and you wanted to act out.

Choosing to aggravate his foul mood further, you shrugged and attempted to walk past without saying anything, but you effectively stopped when he said, "Stop right there. We're not done talking."

Veering to look at him with the coldest expression you could muster, you retorted, "I went out with my friends. What's the big deal?"

He stood up from his seat, evidently pissed off at your attitude. "I thought I told you. It's dangerous, Y/N. I'm just trying to protect you. What if something happened to you?"

"They're your enemies, Satoru, not mine."

"It doesn't change the fact that they will hurt you if they can!" He had such a menacing look on his face when he was angry which you thought never belonged with those easy smiles and generally perfect visage of his. Someone so beautiful being shrouded in darkness was a violation to nature, and Gojo was just so.

"Well then, maybe I shouldn't have gotten together with you!" you shouted back, throwing your expensive shoes on the floor, imagining it was an extension of him you wished to hurt. "I could be in danger; I understand that. I'm not stupid, but I never cared for any of that as long as I have you, but you're never there! Why should I stay put when you tell me to?"

Gojo was evidently taken aback at your outburst, not believing that this was the welcome he gets after being away. At the same time, he felt guilty and deserving of your harsh treatment of him, feeling his heart sinking at your words. "You'll be safer that way," was all he could say.

You smirked at him, shaking your head. "And lonely. You forgot lonely." You shrugged, walking away from him. "I'm tired."

Having ended up in the bathroom where you found solace from Gojo, you leaned your arms and propped your chin on the rim of the huge tub, staring at the city lights through the glass walls. It seemed like a good idea to get tangled up with an older male who wanted to take care of you at your darkest moments, having been fired from your job and thrown out of your apartment which made you resort to sleeping in your car. 

That's how you met in the first place, making the mistake of parking around the outskirts of the city, hugging a can of pepper spray in your sleep when Gojo and his men decided to make an exchange at the empty parking lot of the warehouse nearby. Safe to say, it went awry when men started to pull out guns.

He took you home after his right-hand man spotted you in the car when your phone lit up at the wrong time. At first, he was suspicious of you, thinking you were an asset for an enemy clan. You were probably traumatized or in utter shock when your first reaction to him after seeing him break someone's neck a few yards from your car was to tell him he was beautiful while also shivering at the thought of how easily those gloved hands could murder you.

Gojo had been straightforward from the get-go, never hiding his intentions the moment he thumbed at your chin, forcing you to behold his beauty in all its glory which was just a bonus with how gentle, kind and caring he was towards you. And you clung to the dark angel who offered you a comfortable life away from the dangers of the streets, even offering to pay for your studies when he found out just how well you did in them. It seemed you were embroiled in more danger than you anticipated, however.

To say that you didn't know what kind of life you have entangled yourself in would be a lie. You knew just what kind of person Gojo Satoru is, his pretty hands and his very name stained in blood. The tattoos that adorned his beautiful alabaster skin were a dead ringer of just what kind of clan he belonged to, and it didn't help that he was surrounded by ruffians like a lone rose in a sea of thorns all the time.

They called him The Prince, even his enemies, and what a fitting name, at least to you with whom he showed his better side and true self underneath the emotionally constipated yakuza overlord that he is. But that was the very thing that broke your heart.

You had an agreement. Blatantly put, you are his pet, and he is your owner who poured money on trinkets he thought would make you happy in exchange for favors. That's it. You give him your body, and you get to have him for all those moments he is available. You wouldn't deny that it was an economically good proposition and beggars probably can never be choosers as was the case for you, but you never anticipated just what a lonely existence it would be on top of it being dangerous when you were deemed his weakness.

What a laugh. You weren't his weakness, not even remotely close. It was all for naught when your life is being put in line because of stupid assumptions his enemies resorted to. You will die if you don't toe the line according to Gojo's standards, and for what? They'd probably think they hurt him, but really, they're just giving him an excuse to go on a rampage, which will be for reasons vastly different from their thoughts.

But more than anything, the most significant matter at stake was your heart, if not your sanity. Letting that information out during your outburst was a faux pas on your part, and you emotionally prepared yourself to leave the kind of life Gojo granted you in the first place. You've fallen for him, and that wasn't a good thing when he made it clear just what purpose you served for him.

The sound of water droplets from the faucet was suddenly interrupted by the glass doors sliding open to accommodate Gojo, who had already changed into a fluffy, white robe, shedding it off as he approached you. You didn't acknowledge his presence and merely watched his reflection through the wall. That didn't deter him from coming into the bathtub behind you and pulling you close.

"Would you please look at me, sweetheart?" he asked, his melodious voice making every fiber of your being tense. He wrapped an arm around you, his breath ghosting over your nape. "Did I make you that upset while I was away? I'm sorry, my pet."

His apology always came with a catch. You didn't have to enumerate them when you're only supposed to understand.

"Still mad at me? What does my Y/N want, hmm?" Gojo started placing kisses on your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, but before it could cloud your judgment, you moved forward, gently taking his arm off of you, much to his dissatisfaction. He sighed, letting you have your space. "What's the problem?"

You hugged your knees to yourself, feeling the coldness of the air when you lost contact with him. "It's not something you could fix by kissing me." As if on cue, you absently scooped some soapy water and rubbed it over the areas he touched.

Being the brat used to having his way, Gojo scoffed. "Are you literally washing away my kisses?" It's just like him to ask about the trivial things when he feels like it. He reached out to touch you when you didn't answer but stopped when you flinched. He immediately turned serious, the air around you becoming charged with tension. "Y/N, will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

"You are."

"What?"

You leaned your forehead on your knees, feeling vulnerable to the whole world as you calmed your inner turmoil and tried to put in words how you felt, how things would end by your hand before he casts you away.

"I breached our contract."

Silence followed your words, and those mere seconds of pause felt like an eternity as you feared the worst. But then he said, "Will you elaborate on that?"

You lifted your head, throwing it back as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know I don't have any right to be demanding things from you, least of all hold it against you when I miss you in your absence."

"You miss me?"

"But I have no control over how I started feeling the way I do, becoming more pronounced whenever you're not with me. We had an agreement, I know that, but because I broke it, I guess I'll have to take it upon myself to end this."

"End what?" He straightened up, his blue eyes filling with dread. "What – what are you talking about?" He sounded angry this time but like that of an animal cornered as opposed to being the hunter.

You looked at him from over your shoulder. "I'm leaving you, Satoru."

A mix of emotions started to take shape with every nuance in his expression, as if he could not make up his mind about how he would feel about what you just said. For a split second, he looked at you as if you had obliterated his whole being, but then he calmed down, massaging the point between his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I know my role, and I should just walk away before it gets out of hand."

"What role?"

You laughed without humor. "I am, in essence, just your sugar baby, Satoru. You give me things that you see fit. I don't get to demand anything from you."

"Is that how you see yourself?" His tone was scathing but calming at the same time. It makes things easier for you.

"Let's not pretend anymore, okay?"

"So what exactly are you telling me?"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" you asked in exasperation, your tears finally dripping from your eyes.

He let up on the harsh expression on his face upon seeing them. "Y/N, baby, don't cry. Please. I just need you to explain. I deserve at least that when you're telling me you want to –"

"I love you, Satoru." You smiled at him through your tears, the most sincere one you gave his way since you realized how you felt.

"You do?"

"I don't regret it regardless of the consequences."

"Y/N, I'm confused."

You didn't address that. Gojo was probably one of the most brilliant people you knew, but it was always easy to feign ignorance, regardless of that. Without addressing it, you motioned to get out of the tub, wondering where you'll start with packing, but then almost everything you owned was technically Gojo's. It would be easy, you thought.

"Anyway, you know now. I should go." 

Gojo wasn't having any of it. He stopped you, pulling you towards him. "You just told me you love me, and you're leaving me behind?"

You blinked. "Am I...not supposed to?"

Gojo smirked at you. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"

You sank into the water, creating splashes in your wake. You didn't know how to feel about that. It was a choice between succumbing to that false sense of security you learned to accept during the three years you've been with him or relief over the possibility that he reciprocated your feelings. However, before you could even decide, Gojo chose to addle your brain by leaning in and taking possession of your lips, giving you no choice but to melt and submit to his touches.

It was passionate as usual, setting every ounce of your existence aflame while his hands roamed around every inch of your skin, marking his territory. You appreciated that about him, not holding back and giving you what you wanted without inhibitions, but you've always accepted that what you wanted the most, he could never ever give. You've resigned yourself to that fact, and yet, whenever he touches you, you are convinced otherwise because his actions always contrast his words. You hated how hope started to grow in your chest, and although he quickly turned you on, you fought against it and pulled away from him.

"N-no. Stop."

"Why?" He looked at you, kiss-drunk and dazed.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to be beholden to me." You inched backward. "Just let me go."

Gojo clucked his tongue, sighing profoundly and covering his face with his hands in utter frustration. "What have I done?"

You shook your head. "It's not your fault."

"No..."

It was your turn to reach out to him, forcing his hands off of his face as you kneeled before him. "Satoru, you can hardly be blamed for how I feel. It's okay. I am not mad at you."

"Yeah, but I sure as hell am mad at myself." He let you take his hands but immediately reversed roles and held your hand in his. "Oh, Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N." His broad shoulders drooped down. "It's my fault why you're doing this right now for making you feel like you had to toe boundaries with me where your emotions are concerned."

"We signed a contract..."

He lifted his hand to tenderly graze your cheek, his icy blue eyes showing that misplaced warmth you've become familiar with even when he made someone beg for mercy. Gojo Satoru always shone brilliantly amid the darkness that surrounded him. You gravitated towards that light no matter how twisted it was.

"This is my doing."

"No –"

"But it's true." He smiled sadly at you. "I know what I am, and I am so deep in it that nothing could right the wrongs I've done. That contract was supposed to be a shield for you against me, Y/N, not the other way around."

"What?" Now you're confused.

"The moment you called me beautiful despite seeing what you did all those years ago, I knew I had to have you with me to have someone to see past the fear I instill in anyone who crosses paths with me." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to feel for me, nor did I want you to feel responsible for anything that involves me. I'm not so cruel that I'll subject you to that, but it's too late, no? I put you in danger, and you don't owe it to me that I am protecting you or giving you everything I thought you would want while keeping a safe distance. Turns out I've hurt you more."

You were taken aback, to say the least.

"But I do care for you more than I can admit or fathom." He beamed disarmingly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I am in too deep, and maybe I should just accept that I do love you."

"Satoru..." 

"I love you, Y/N. Words are cheap, and it may be too late, but I really do." He placed his head on your shoulder as he embraced you, holding you tight, skin on skin. "But if you want to leave, I will let you. I will not be selfish and ask you to stay with me. I want you to do whatever you think is best for you without thinking of me."

Laughter wanted to escape from your throat, not because of mirth but from relief. But with that came the realization that you weren't free anymore, not where Gojo was concerned. He's setting you free, but the lock to your prison wasn't his to hold in the first place. You held yourself captive to him in the first place, locked yourself in, and threw the key away. Knowing he reciprocated your affection towards him just sealed you in a reinforced vault, dunked into the deepest trenches of the ocean that was his warmth. How the hell were you supposed to leave him now when you mistakenly thought you were grasping at straws when he was shackled to you all along?

Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around him, shaking your head at your foolishness. At this point, saying you didn't know what you were getting yourself into is a big, fat lie, and it was probably one you will never make the mistake of doing anyway, unable to deny yourself of what you wanted...what you needed.

"You really are a piece of work," you muttered.

"What did I do?" he whined like a child. In such moments, you almost always forget he was shy of a year to a decade older than you.

You chuckled, returning his words to him. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?" 

Gojo's head snapped up, now wearing a cheeky grin as he regarded you, his hands climbing up the back of your thighs before cupping your bare ass. "Is that so? I'm letting you do what you want, Y/N."

You scoffed. He's back to his usual self, toying with you, but you see the subtle difference in how he deals with you. "I am doing what I want right now."

"Going once..."

You relaxed in his hold.

"Twice?"

"No."

His expression turned dark, eyes hazy with lust as he drew you closer, making you sit directly on his half-hard cock. "You can't complain after this, you are aware, my love?"

Ah, the sound of that endearment rolling out of his tongue was music to your ears. Winding your arms around his neck, you leaned forward and ground your hips against his, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips at the pressure. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed at his lips. "It's a lifetime agreement, mind you."

You wasted no time sealing your new pact, crashing your lips against his, a kiss that was sloppy at best, excitement and a mix of love and lust heavy on your tongue as you sought his, reveling in the taste of him which felt like the first time. Gojo was almost always dominant, but he didn't seem to mind that you were taking the lead this time, asserting your claim over him, unable to resist now that you've both gotten what you wanted from each other.

"Lucky for you, I don't want out."

~*~

I had fun with these. Wonder if I should do Geto, Sukuna and Choso as well... A little treat to quell the time I'm taking off of writing my ongoing Gojo smau cause I lost all my fucking files. Yay, me!

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20231019]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[dixons-sunshine]

Mouth To Mouth | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: The moment seemed all too perfect. You and Daryl had just confessed to each other and were sharing your first kiss with each other. It was too bad that your mom had terrible timing, and walked in at the wrong moment.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sexual innuendos.

A/n: Here's the long awaited (wanted by, like, two people) fic about what happened when the mom walked in. I hope y'all enjoy! I really hoped to have my ex!celebrity fic with Daryl ready, but my draft never saved and I lost 2000 words, and that really discouraged me, so I worked on this little fic instead. Also, if anyone would want it, I have so many personal headcannons for this universe, so if anyone wants to see them, let me know.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“Mom, please don't freak out. I can explain.”

Your mom raised her eyebrows at you, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked at the position you were in and nodded sarcastically, an amused smirk creeping onto her face.

“I'm sure you can,” she mused, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “This totally doesn't look like the two of you were just making out. You were just giving him mouth to mouth, right? Teaching him how to do CPR? Or you just slipped and happened to slam your lips against his.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl duck his head in embarrassment, his face flushed with a blush. You could feel heat creeping onto your cheeks as well, your mom's knowing stare penetrating into your soul. You knew that your mom probably didn't care that you and Daryl were kissing, but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to pretend to go into "protective mom" mode. She loved doing it to embarrass you a little bit.

“Mom,” you drawled in embarrassment, sending her a pleading look. “Please don't.”

“What, I walk in to find my daughter and her friend chewing on each other's faces, which will probably scar me for life, but I can't lay down some guesses for what your explanation would've been? How's that fair?”

“Fine, yes, we were kissing, but you don't have to make such a big deal out of it. It's not like I haven't walked in on you getting busy with Mr Prescott,” you retorted defensively, sneaking glances at Daryl who remained silent, his eyes nervously flickering between you and the floor.

Your mom let out a small laugh and shook her head. “Touche, sweetheart,” she nodded, shifting her attention to Daryl. “Daryl, I'm not gonna bite your head off if you look at me.”

Daryl reluctantly rose his head, a nervous glint in his eyes. He was fidgeting with his hands, picking at the loose skin on his thumb and you had to resist the urge to take his hand in yours to stop the nervous gesture. You didn't want to give your mom more ammo to tease you with.

“There, that's better,” your mom mused, taking a step closer. “Now I can see those blue eyes of yours that my daughter wouldn't stop raving about. I'm honestly surprised that it took her this long to make a move. She's liked you for quite a while now. She would never shut up about you when you left.”

“Mom!” you complained, sending her an exasperated look. “Can we not?!”

Your mom simply let out another laugh. “What? It's adorable!”

“Mom, please,” you pleaded, sneaking another look at Daryl. His gaze had returned to the floor, but you didn't miss the small smirk that was on his face.

“Alright, alright. I'll lighten up,” she reluctantly agreed, turning around to grab something from the table. “Sorry to have interrupted your "totally not making out" session. I need to get back to work anyway. I forgot a folder my boss needed. But after today, I'm suspecting that this will become a regular thing, so I won't ever be forgetting folders or anything ever again. My eyes won't ever recover.”

“Goodbye, Mom!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands.

“Remember to use protection, kids! I'm not ready to be a grandma just yet,” your mom chuckled and left, leaving you and Daryl alone.

The air was charged with an awkward silence. You dared a look at him and saw him nervously fiddling with his hands, but the small smile from earlier still remained. He turned his head and locked eyes with you, his gaze holding a certain amount of mischief to it.

“So, ya have been ravin' 'bout me to yer mom?” he said with a hint of playfulness, finally breaking the silence between you. “Wha' have ya been sayin'? Ya been talkin' 'bout my rugged good looks? Dun' worry, by the way. I won't tell nobody tha' ya have a secret crush on me.”

You took one of the pillows from the couch and threw it at him. Daryl effortlessly caught it and laughed—not chuckled, but actually laughed—and dropped it down next to him. Before you could retort with a sarcastic remark, Daryl leaned forward and captured your lips with his, silencing any and all thoughts you had.

You returned the kiss easily. However, you pulled away after a few moments, lightly shoving him back with a playful smile on your face. You stood up and extended a hand to him, which he took without any hesitation. You pulled him up and lead him to your room, closing the door behind you. You gently urged him backwards and pushed him onto your bed, watching him comply easily.

A nervous look flitted across Daryl's eyes. You instantly caught it and gave him a reassuring smile, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek.

“Relax, pretty boy. We're not doing anything like that tonight,” you reassured him, stepping closer in between his legs. “My mom just caught us kissing. Do you really think I want to risk her walking in on something like that in the same night?”

Daryl exhaled a sigh of relief, looking up at you. “Then wha' are ya doin'?”

You smiled at him and gently urged him down, letting his body fully lay down and his head rest on the pillow. You got in on the other side and rested your head on his chest, getting comfortable against him. You felt him stiffen slightly, feeling his hand hover over your waist uncertainly.

“Relax, Daryl. We've cuddled before.”

“Yeah, but s'different now,” he whispered, his hand still hovering over your waist. “This ain't friend cuddlin' no more. S'couple cuddlin' now. I dun' wanna do anythin' to make ya uncomfortable.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss against his clothed chest, nuzzling your face deeper into it. “I'll tell you if you do, but you can touch me. I won't bite,” you assured him, feeling his hand finally rest on your waist before adding in a teasing manner. “Not unless you want me to.”

Daryl inhaled sharply, his grip on your waist momentarily tightening before relaxing again. “This gon' be a regular thing now? Ya teasin' the shit outta me?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Yer gon' be the death of me, girl,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “But I guess I'll allow it.”

“Good, because I'm not stopping. I love seeing you blush like that, handsome.”

“Stop,” he groaned, burying his face into your hair.

“Stop making you get all flustered like this?” you asked, shaking your head. “Not when it's this adorable.”

Before Daryl could say anything else, you rolled away from him, flicking off the lamp before settling into your side of the bed. You got comfortable, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, handsome.”

A few moments of silence passed, before you felt him shuffle behind you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, spooning you from the back. He pulled you closer to him, breathing in your clean scent before finally whispering something back.

“Night, beautiful.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[icarryitin]

Episode 4: Workplace Hot

spencer reid/gn!reader

look i don’t know what this is or where it came from, all i know is one day i woke up normal and then by the end of it i had started CM from the beginning and fallen in love w this man

series masterlist

word count: 1.2k//warnings: literally zero, just vibes

summary: It’s just a crush on a coworker. That’s normal, right?

Things never go smoothly, do they?

Never quite to plan, there’s always something missing from the final draft, or something unexpected lurking in the background of the big picture.

This surprise comes gift wrapped just for you, in stupidly attractive, nerdy, beanpole patterned paper.

The first time you lamented about your unfortunate crush on Dr Spencer Reid had been over mojitos at your favourite little hole-in-the-wall bar. Sitting at the raised table with the remainder of your girl group from college, staring dismally at the bottom of your glass, they’d tried to convince you he was just Workplace Hot. Proximity Hot. Work crushes are commonplace as anything, they come just as quickly as they go. God, you wish they’d been right.

You’d tried to convince yourself of it, anyway, and that worked for a little while. You were happy enough to sit at your desk, the man in question mirroring your position somewhere on your right, five days a week. You could do your paperwork in his general vicinity and not feel like you were about to catch fire every time he leaned over the aisle to pinch a file from your stack. And then, there was The Incident.

The Incident - named for the absolute havoc wrought on your nerves until the early hours of a Sunday morning in May. Uncoordinated nights out though they had been, with your own friends out celebrating a birthday and his little group with their own agenda for the evening, it would have been rude not to wave across the bar at him. The rest of them had been too far gone already but one of your friends noticed your shy grin, arguably your best - friendship forged in the fire of back to back forensic psychology classes would be hard pressed to die. She noticed, because of course she did. So you’d told her, because of course she’d have worked it out. And then, to your horror, she’d walked right over to him. Because of course she would. She’d wandered back over to your group only a few minutes later, a solemn look on her face under the dulled bar lights.

“Do you get what I mean?”

“Oh, I get it, my condolences.”

You had been doomed from the start - cursed, bewitched. Lulled into a false sense of security via cardigans and wide eyes and odd socks until you find yourself here. Six months into your new job, and six months into an embarrassingly cumbersome crush on the good doctor.

Which probably would have been fine if either one of you stayed behind at Quantico regularly, but you don’t. Instead, you’re burdened by six months worth of knowledge of all his little quirks thanks to case after case after case.

You know he’ll commandeer the couch on the jet when he can, because he likes to stretch out when he naps. You know exactly how much sugar he takes in his coffee, too much - you feel mildly nauseous every time you make him a cup, but you still make it. You know that he chews on the inside of his lip when he’s thinking particularly hard about something, just as well as you know he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. And sure, it’s not just him, you’ve learned these silly little things about every member of the BAU team. But Reid’s just seem clearer to you. More significant. You’re a little more self conscious when you find yourself looking at him. Even in conversation, even if he’s looking to you for an observation about the Unsub. You can’t hold his eye for very long.

He knows, you’re sure of it.

There’s a rule - don’t profile the team. The golden rule. The golden rule that gets broken about fifty times a day.

Spencer likes the rule, even if he doesn’t always respect it. Sometimes it needs a little disrespecting, he thinks so anyway. Sometimes his colleagues, his teammates, his friends - they need somebody to prod them a little, letting people in goes against every fibre of a behavioural analyst’s being. But trust has to be built somehow.

He’s about this close to cracking you.

Which hasn’t been easy by any stretch of the word. You’d held him at arm’s length for much longer than the others, and at first he’d thought he annoyed you. It made sense enough, he’s been called annoying enough times in his life to know he definitely can be, and the way you’ve never really been able to look him in the eye would suggest you don’t want to get into the situation where he could be. He tries his best not to ramble at you, even now, just in case. Though that initial ice has long since melted.

You’re a lot more open with him now, even if there’s still parts he has to chip away at thick stone walls to get to. Silly things, that not everyone would care to know about their co-workers, but Spencer absolutely needs to know about you.

Which is where the stakeout game comes in.

It’s silly, really. Twenty questions - who plays twenty questions as a grown adult? FBI agents who desperately want to get to know other FBI agents whilst they’re stuck in the confines of an SUV’s backseat for hours on end. That’s who.

Derek and Emily sit up front, watching the quiet street, the way they’re supposed to be - as Spencer desperately tries to guess your favourite movie. He’s narrowed it down to two in his mind, in only three questions. The traditional rules of the game had gotten boring after the first few cases, you’d laughed and told him that he’s too good at guessing. He’d told you that you’re just not asking the right questions on your turns. You’re watching him carefully in the dark now, the way you’re meant to be watching the Unsub’s house. You don’t make eye contact but you’re studying his face all the same, he wishes you would. He’s become a little too dependent on the way his heart seizes when you allow him that kind of vulnerability.

He doesn’t have time to pick a film or ask another question anyway, because the Unsub is flying out the back door of the house, he’s jumping out of the SUV with everybody else, and the Unsub is surrounded. Thanks to your work, your observation being the final piece of the puzzle that had clicked everything else into place.

You’re chatting to a local officer when Spencer calls out the title of your favourite movie across the street. His guess, twenty questions completed in just three. How very Spencer Reid of him.

He’s right - obviously. He doesn’t need to watch the way your head drops and your shoulders shake with a giggle, interrupting your conversation to turn to him. But he watches all the same, he always does.

Your eyes sparkle in the dark when you look back over your shoulder, finally catching his under the orange haze of the streetlights, and sending a kaleidoscope of butterflies surging in the pit of his stomach. Paper thin wings clog up his throat, spindly legs tickle his lungs.

Work crushes are commonplace - but this one might just be the death of him.

[saltydoesstuff]

Love bites (Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey x Reader HCS)

((All characters are depicted as 18+ unless stated otherwise)) I FINALLY got this done! This has been in my drafts for a w h i l e and I'm so glad to be able to share it! technically suggestive??, biting, jealousy, love bites/marks, cuddling ------------------------------------------------ Raph: - He is an alligator snapping turtle, biting is what his species is known for! - He has chew toys hidden around his room so he can have something to bite into whenever he gets the urge, or when he gets frustrated so he doesn't grind his teeth together fighting the urge to bite. He has a very strong bite force and he doesn't want to hurt anyone. - But with you, as soon as you gave the okay for him to bite you he was a little hesitant. You wanted him to bite you? You were okay with it? He could take out your whole shoulder if he really wanted to! - It'd take a little for him to get used to the fact that you were okay with being bitten, but soon he is more than happy to do so. Biting is one of his love languages, and to be able to do it to you without worry of you getting upset really soothed him. - He is extra careful when biting you, starting off with gentle nips and nibbles along your shoulders when you two are cuddling in his room. Every time he thinks he may have gotten a bit hard on a particular nip he will kiss the spot and ask if you are alright, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. - The only time he would be less gentle in his biting is if he's jealous. Raph is not one to get jealous super easily, nor let it show. He trusts you completely, but sometimes when the person trying to hit on you is just not getting the hint that you are not only not interested but taken- he could only feel the steam coming from his nostrils as he huffs and glared at the person. Afterwards, when you are both are alone- Raph will suddenly pull you by the waist back into his plastron, he head leaning down and snout nuzzled against the side of your neck. "Uh.. Raph?" You ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye, "Are you okay big guy?" There's a brief moment of hesitation, before there is a sharp pain searing into the spot between your neck and shoulder; making you inhale sharply and wince. - Yeah.. you needed a bit of bandages after that. His teeth had broken skin and had you bleeding. The poor guy felt so bad, apologizing frantically as he patched you up. You had to constantly reassure him that was alright, despite his many protests that no it was not alright. He clung onto you for the rest of the night, mumbling apologies and kissing the bandages every chance he could. - Yet despite his immense guilt for hurting you, he couldn't help the sense of pride he got whenever he saw the mark once the bandages came off. It was a physical sign that you were his, and now everyone could see it. - And if you ever bite back? Oh you will have a very flustered and smitten turtle on your hands. Donnie: - He isn't much of a biter. At least.. at first. - Donnie has a bit of difficulty showing physical affection at times, even more so verbally expressing it. Which is why his main go to of showing love is gift giving. - When you both started dating, there was a long adjustment period of getting comfortable with getting physically affectionate past platonic gestures. It started small, linking each other's pinkies together when you thought no one was paying attention and holding hands when you slept together in place of cuddling. Times in the morning where a very sleepy soft shell will come up beside you as you prepared coffee for you both and gently bunt his head against yours as a greeting as he picked up his mug and headed towards his lab.

- It had progressed steadily and soon you often found yourself being the stress toy for your purple clad lover. He had found it actually much easier to work while you were on his lap, so that's where you stayed most of the time when he had projects to work on but also wanted to spend time with you. You would face him, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and arms hugging his middle as he had his head rested on your shoulder to peer down at whatever he was tinkering with that day. His claws would gently run up and down your spine in a mindless manner, and when he got frustrated his hands would come up to your love handles and squeeze while he tried to find a work around. - One of these times, he had gotten a bit too frustrated. He had been working on a new upgrade for Shelldon, but nothing he did seemed to turn out the way he wanted. You were half asleep on his lap at this point, having been there quite a while at this rate. That's when you felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. - He didn't break skin, but his canines dug into your shoulder just enough to leave a little bruising mark. The feeling was enough to make you jolt slightly with a little yelp, startling Donnie in turn. - He pulled away and looked at you quizzically, not seeming to grasp what exactly had happened at first. Then he takes notice of the mark forming on your shoulder and the man short circuits. - Is quick to apologize and offer to get you an icepack to help the bruising through his own flustered state, stammering and tripping over his words. Yet, his grip is firm- keeping you in place on his lap, like he was afraid you would try to get off after he bit you. - He had chalked it up to simply being apart of his more animalistic instincts, a side he is normally the best at repressing compared to his brothers (at least he tells himself that). Still, he tries to take precautions to avoid making the same error. Unless you encourage the behavior, then he is more lenient towards allowing the action to repeat. Just more gently from now on. - His bites are rare, but when they do come they are gentle and almost teasing depending on the situation. His favorite places to nibble is along your collarbone and sometimes the lobe of your ear. - The only time he will deliberately leave lasting marks is out of jealousy, and as we all know the soft shell is very quick to get jealous. Expect to be covered in marks for the next two weeks.

Leo: - Leo would actually be revealed to be a bit of a biter early on in the relationship, a split moment while you both were play wrestling that he had turned his head suddenly and sunk his teeth into the skin of your wrist while you had him pinned. It had caught you off guard, long enough for the slider to get the advantage and over power you. The next second you found yourself on your back with a very smug turtle straddling your waist. - It didn't seem to click for him at first just what he had done, only as he opened his mouth to tease did he notice the flabbergasted expression on your face did it sink in that he had actually bit you. - His eyes darted from the faint mark forming on your wrist to your face a couple times, looking equally as shocked- only his face definitely felt ten times warmer. - He would try to play it off at first, saying that you two never agreed not to bite, so it was still fair game. "All is fair in love and war, mi vida.~" - The biting would not happen again for a while after that, and Leo would get slightly embarrassed every time you try to bring it up in a teasing manner. Bringing it up in a playful tone that you wouldn't mind being bitten, this only served to make the slider more flustered. - Next time he bites you however, is during a sleepover at your apartment. You both had decided to have a cozy night in, cuddled up on your bed and watching movies through whatever streaming services you have. - You were staring blankly at the screen, trying to fight the effect that gravity was having on your eye lids. Leo was behind you, holding you against his plastron- his snout nuzzled into the crook between your neck and shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing against your skin; not quite enough to lead you to believe that he was asleep, but still gentle. - Slowly, his snout trailed upwards- grazing the corner of your jaw as he moved. You didn't think much of it, assuming he may be simply adjusting slightly to get in a more comfortable position- that was until you felt the tips of his canines catch onto the lobe of your ear, tugging and biting gently. - The squeal that left your mouth is still something Leo laughs about to this day. Your flustered and embarrassed reaction to such an innocent test was hilarious, or so he would say. You would heavily beg to differ on multiple of those points. - Once establishing your comfort with his biting, Leo will bite regularly. Not nearly as much as Raph or Mikey per say, but close. More often than not it's more just to get a reaction out of you, he just loves how red your face gets to the simple actions. Other times to have a physical marker that you were his, even if the bites were only in places that he could see. The action still mattered. Oh don't worry, he would never bite you in public. Only behind closed doors when you both are alone. - If he ever bit you out of jealousy, much like Donnie those marks would be e v e r y w h e r e- and not going away anytime soon. He trusts you completely, but apparently other people won't take the hint that you were his unless they saw you covered in his marks. He takes satisfaction in their reactions and defeat. Only he was your champion, no one else.

Mikey: - Biting is also what Box turtles are known for! It's a form of a courting/mating gesture for his species. - I'd say he'd bite you early on into the relationship in the form of soft nibbles, more playful than anything. Say he has you in his arms and he buried his snout into the crook of your neck, he'll gently nibble at your flesh in-between kisses to fluster you. He thinks your adorable flustered! - It's hard to say if he would ever say why he bites you. He would only answer if you asked him directly about it, as to then he would sheepishly admit what it means to him. If you're uncomfortable with it he will gladly stop though! - If you encourage the behavior however, or even go as far as to bite him back at some point? Oh, he just fell even harder! - His favorite spots are your shoulders, thighs and the tips of your ears, you make the cutest squeaks when his canines nip at your earlobe and he just can't get enough! - His bites will become more frequent during cuddle sessions or play fighting to gain the upper hand, you can't tell me this man would not use tricks to catch you off guard- - Despite it all however, he would be rather gentle with his bites. He knows his teeth are sharp, and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. But from time to time he will get a bit rougher and leave marks. He will make sure to apologize if it starts bleeding, immediately offering to patch it up. He isn't as panicked as Raph is, but still worries. - Jealousy is a whole different matter. Mikey trusts you, he really does! But those flirting with you just don't seem to understand that you are taken sometimes.. perhaps a few lasting marks will fix that! - This sneaky bastard will make sure some of his bites are hard to cover up, wanting people to see them. To see who you belong to. - But overall he is very sweet and caring with his affections towards you, no matter what form they take.

[least-carpet]

rotating jin guangyao and his problems

chewing up jin guangyao in my head... this is another one that's been in the drafts forever. throwing it out there because I'm out of gas.

the broad outlines of these thoughts are:

jin guangyao pursues AND values relationships with people he considers to be Good, particularly lan xichen and qin su

which. like. normal.

what's weird is that they're so good that he can't ever disclose the bad things he's done, because they are Good and they would be Disgusted and they might not Love Him anymore.

you'd think they would be safe because they are Good, but that's not how this works.

so he's fundamentally constructed these prisons where he can't get closer but also can't get away

ughhhh I can't articulate it but something something about how he's created these relationships which he fundamentally can't disclose certain important things, areas of violence or vulnerability, without losing them

sooooo they're kinda hollow!! they're hollow relationships!!

I think for lan xichen a lot of distance can be chalked up to the physical distance demanded by their respective responsibilities

like "we would be closer if we could"

so it's a distance that also allows for a continual mutual idealization and doesn't feel bad because there's an outside source

but for qin su? especially during and after rusong's assassination?

like—even setting aside the question of whether or not he killed the kid—they're having different emotional responses to his death because rusong, while he was alive, must have been a source of terrible ongoing anxiety for jin guangyao, who is deeply paranoid about any of his secrets coming to light.

so an ending to that kind of anxiety is a relief, even if he didn't kill his own child.

but relief mixed with grief presumably wouldn't match qin su's emotional experience of rusong's death.

so they're not emotionally in sync, and she doesn't understand why. her husband has also withdrawn from her in a number of ways (because of... the secret incest...)

idk it just seems emotionally horrifying

I also think this is partly why you get such a wide range of takes on jin guangyao, even from people who like him. because people who do this type of thing are sometimes doing it to manipulate people into staying with them, and if someone has done it to you, the tactics are very recognizable (such as during the confrontation between jin guangyao and qin su, where he's desperately trying to control the outcome of her finding out about the secret incest)

anyway what a guy! the inside of his head probably sounds like the soundtrack to a horror movie 100% of the time, huh

[planetpedri]

HI! I saw you write for Criminal Minds and I was wondering if you could write for Emily Prentiss where she and reader work alongside one another like majority of the times, and maybe one of them (doesn’t matter who) is particularly irritable where it makes the other want nothing more than to just comfort them and it’s slight angst to comfort? (They’re each others work crush!) 💚

Please be rude — Emily Prentiss.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Summary: This case was getting to Emily. You could see it throughout the day, she was growing more and more agitated. So you take her aside and try to get her to relax.

Word count: 500

Disclaimer/s: Mentions of potential murder , abduction , all the average criminal minds stuff , light angst , comfort !

A/N: clearing out my drafts before my trip yipee !

Emily paced back and forth across the white tiles that lined the mall. A young girl had gone missing, potentially an abduction, and for some reason it was really getting to her. You stood a few feet away, leaning against one of the miscellaneous tables as you watched her with concern.

“Em..” You sigh out, pushing off the table. “Do you need a break?”

“No. No, i’m fine.” She snaps, her eyes widening as she realizes. “Sorry. That was rude. Something just feels off.” The raven haired woman shakes her head, running a hand over the back of her hair until she grasps the back of her neck to rub it lightly.

You nod in understanding, chewing on your bottom lip. “How about we go make coffee and you tell me about it? Hmm?”

Emily reluctantly agrees, dropping her hands to her side. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Leading the way, you find the cafeteria. One of the workers agrees to make you two a coffee free of charge. While you wait, the two of you stand back. “So, what’s bugging you?”

“I just…” She glances up at you, “I just have this gut feeling, and it won’t go away.” She shrugs it off, shaking her head. “It could be nothing.”

Frowning, you reach out to the woman, squeezing her shoulder. “Hey, if you feel something, there’s a reason why. Don’t ignore it.”

Emily smiles at the small act of affection. She lifts her hand to cover yours, “okay, okay. Once we get our coffee, i’ll find Hotch.”

You give her a quick smile, trying to ignore the lurch in your stomach at her touch. “Perfect. How are you adjusting to the team, by the way?” You ask as you reach for the coffee’s the barista handed you. “Thank you.” You nod at her before turning back to Emily and hand her one.

Emily blows at the hole in the lid to cool it down. “Good, this is very different from my last job, but still, i’m adjusting well.” She smiles up at you for a moment, “you’ve been a major help, of course.”

Chuckling, you take a small sip. “Glad to be of service.” You’d been watching her intently since she had started talking, noticing what made her relax. “Okay, let’s go find Hotch, and you tell me about this hunch of yours, yeah?”

Emily swallows, “yeah.”

“Come on newbie.” You grin, nudging your shoulder against hers as the two of you make your way to where you knew your boss would be.

“Oh, before we go in,” Emily stops you with a hand on your arm. You turn to her with a quirked eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. “Thank you, for that. I know you were trying to calm me down. I appreciate that, I appreciate you.”

A warm feeling grows in your chest. “Of course, Em. Any time, any place, i’m here to help.”

Emily’s eyes flickered across your face, a small smile on her lips. “Right back at you.”

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[tojivu]

# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

[cardboardclownery]

CRASHES THROUGH A BRICK WALL

HI HI IM ALIVE!!!! sorry for the relative radio silence on here ;v;

on the topic of that actually!!!! finally have a proper folie a deux au update for you!! though its slightly different than expected?

me and professional buddy and fellow au creator @cookiecaker decided to share a summary of the story we're making for the au beforehand since we'll be taking a whileeee to finish it,,, got a lot of life to live and horrors to create "-v-

after this though you mayyyy or may notttt see some out of order chapter drafts posted for the story as well,,, or atleast one? eh youll see ;Pc

ANYWAYS!!!! this is gonna take a while so lets get on with...

THE FOLIE À DEUX DOAI AU

a summary!!

or story pitch? idk-

(cookie please lemme know if i miss or improperly describe anything here feel free to correct me-)

PART 1

the first three chapters follow alex just after the end of volume 1 as theyre abducted by lankmann and confined to his asylum as a "patient." eventually they get sent to winfrey as food, but winfrey refuses to eat them. theyre left to die in room 66 by lankmann for a Long While, until eventually he gives up and just puts alex back in their room

while alone in confinement, alex starts noticing strange things happening... dark patches start appearing on their skin, they get random pains as if someone were kicking them, and they hear a voice... a much clearer voice than the ones they used to hear while working in the asylum, and it seemed to be able to read their thoughts. though they originally just assumed it was due to being part of their thoughts as well, they find that they start knowing things they had no way of knowing and never learned prior to being confined. when lankmann typically entered room 66, how long hes inside, certain areas of the asylum patients found that theyd never heard of before...

this "voice" managed to help alex find a way to escape, leading to them running away and moving to another, smaller town in eastridge than the one they originally lived in to avoid lankmann's pursuit

PART 2

[ ! tw for cannibalism. yes you heard me- ! ]

so after getting far away from the asylum, alex assumes that their hallucinations and weird symptoms of... Something would wear off, since subject 02 was no where near close enough to affect them

well uh. nope! theyre still there!!

so eventually alex figures out "oh shit that thing is in my head somehow" and is obviously quite concerned!!! to say the least!!!! but theyre also oddly comforted by the idea of having The Voice in their head, since now theyre not entirely alone while on the run and i mean it helped them escape so it cant be that bad?? either way theyre not exactly excited about the whole ordeal and theyre starting to look different and theyre really hungry all the time and its not fun

so! at some point (with winfreys suggestion) alex decides to run off to another town a bit farther away just to be safe. but Uh Oh theyre all out of food!! so theyre extremely hungry, forcing themself through it so they can get food when they arrive but. they see someone in the woods while walking

and for some reason that makes them even hungrier

they try to ignore it and keep walking but they cant

and the next thing they know

theyre looking down at a person

chewing off the flesh on their leg

covered in blood

even after regaining their senses they cant stop themself from eating. it tasted... so good... they were so hungry... they felt awful but it really did taste so s o g o o d .

in a haze, they discard the body, clean themself off and reach the next town. just after unpacking in an apartment, they collapse, flooded with the emotions they fought off on the way there

the next day, alex finally confronts winfrey (or winfreys voice rather-) about all their grievances and they eventually reach an understanding, as winfrey opens up about fearing the outside of the asylum despite longing to escape through alex, so they eventually agree to let winfrey pilot their body for a few days to get a feel for how the world has changed since the time winfrey had been free

in doing so, winfrey realizes how small and helpless humans are in comparison to them and how terrified the patients they devoured mustve been. this allows them to appreciate human life (specifically alex's) much more and want to escaped in their own body to join alex outside and introduce clyde to what they learned after finding it again

while piloting alexs body, winfrey is suddenly forced back into their own after lankmann inflicts enough pain to wake them from the dissociative state that piloting alex left them in. soon after this, winfrey overcomes the fear that was originally keeping them from escaping the facility and breaks out

PART 3

this section is a lot less figured out than the rest so uhh bear with me please ;v;

essentially this couple of chapters just follows alex and winfrey as they get used to life on the run, figuring out where to go from there and how they could potentially find clyde, along with just talking face to face and getting used to that. its a weird feeling talking to someone that you share thoughts with yknow? like talking to yourself but its... not... yourself...

around the start of this section winfrey also expresses that they feel drawn to feminity as a human concept, thus being referred to with they/she from this point on in the story!! transfem winfrey yippee!!! it just makes sense in our head idk-

PART 4

alex and winfrey start noticing news broadcasts and posters asking around for a "dark figure" lurking around, as well as warnings about alex being missing from lankmanns asylum. this fuels alex's paranoia, leading them to seeing lankmanns caretakers everywhere, feeling as if theyre being watched wherever they go... until eventually their home is ambushed and theyre taken back into lankmanns custody

alex is essentially used as bait to get winfrey to come save them from the asylum, since lankmann couldnt find a solid lead on where winfrey could be. alex tries to convince her not to fall for it, since they can both tell this is what lankmanns trying to do, but winfrey eventually caves and breaks back in to help alex, getting trapped inside once again

PART 5

depsite the circumstances, winfrey and alex do their best to stay determined and keep looking for a way out, but they dont make much progress. to make matters worse, lankmann tries "live feeding" patients to alex in the same way he did with winfrey due to realizing that alex has veldigun traits and assuming that theyd have the same appetite as her. this isnt the case, and eventually lankmann switches to dead patients as food for alex, which theyre forced to accept due to lacking any other options

both winfrey and alex are miserable in the situation, the helplessness sinking in fairly quickly as alexs body begins rejecting the growing veldigun portions of itself, decaying under the immense stress

during their final moments, winfrey pilots alexs body to allow an atleast somewhat peaceful death as their consciousness fades away, leaving winfrey alone to reflect on all that had happened...

...and thats the official end of the story!! i had like,, a hypothetical epilogue/alternate ending where lankmann forces a Mind Merge with winfrey somehow and then gets killed and she breaks out again but like. idk the logistics of that are iffy and i kinda prefer the more melancholy end for something like this ":]c

ANYHOW!!!! hope that was!!! something!!!! please feel free to ask questions or provide feedback or anything else im always happy to engage with my fellow freaks (affectionate) :]

ALSO IF YOU MAKE CONTENT BASED ON THIS AU LET ME KNOW I WILL DIE FOREVER alright thats it for real this time- stay safe broskissss BP

[the-ace-with-spades]

(an unfinished post I found as I scrolled through my drafts on the train to glasgow. putting it out there as i feel... something rn)

Whenever I think of Mav and Ice as Bradley's parents/parental figures, no matter what the scenario is, I always imagine that Ice is the softer one and Mav is the stricter one.

No matter whether the child acquisition happens when Bradley is in elementary school or when he's a teenager, I think Mav would already be more used to parenting Bradley, even if he'd never call it that, simply because I can't imagine him not helping Carole throughout the years. I imagine he's seen Bradley's first tantrums and was the one Carole called whenever Bradley was acting out, or whenever she felt like Bradley needed a 'man's hand' regarding issues with boys at school or was about to hit the big milestones like learning to ride a bike or start school or outgrow the car seat or anything that she felt she would be too emotional about to keep Bradley's confidence up. They'd always come to pick Mav up from deployment and would be at all of Mav's ceremonies and big events and it all worked in both ways --- Mav was a parent and Carole and Bradley were his family. He'd never call himself a dad, not even when Bradley started sometimes calling him that whenever explaining to the other kids that he's 'kinda like his dad' and Carole said it was okay, but he was a parent.

For a while after Bradley moves in with them, Ice is stuck in the fun uncle mode because that's who he was before. Carole called Mav whenever she needed help with parenting issues, and Ice was there when no one was available --- to watch Bradley when Mav and Carole were at PTA, or take him to the beach with Slider when Carole and Mav were at work on a Saturday, or to buy Bradley way too many birthday presents despite their protests. He's not here for discipline or to manage the tantrums or to guide Bradley from a toddler to a kid to a teenager to a young adult --- he's here to spoil him in ways Mav or Carole can't.

Even when Carole falls ill and he takes more responsibilities around Bradley, he's still managing them in the 'fun uncle' mode. He picks up Bradley from school and takes him out to eat junk food or out for ice cream, or takes him to baseball practice and ends up buying him a whole new set of equipment on the way, lets him stay up late and lets him eat too much sugar and then takes him out to the playground despite misbehaving and unfinished homework so Bradley can get rid of the energy.

When Carole passes away, it gets to the point where Mav has to have a talk with him.

When it became clear Carole wasn't going to make it, Mav and Carole sorted out her will, including Bradley's care. Mav had a whole breakdown about it, far away from Bradley's eyes, and when he told Ice he didn't know how he was going to do it all alone, Ice promised he wouldn't have to, that they would do it together.

But Carole passes away and Bradley starts acting out, like most grieving kids, and Ice is still stuck in the 'fun uncle' mode. He doesn't know what to do when Bradley sulks after school, or refuses to go to school in the morning, or refuses to eat what they made for dinner, or when he doesn't want to sleep alone, or 'forgets' to pack his backpack. He just---stands there and observes as Bradley gets chewed up by Mav. Or Bradley gets sent to his room to go and finally do his homework after the third time he comes back with a warning from his teacher and Ice can't get his sad face out of his mind and sneaks into his room and maybe helps him a bit too much with said homework. When Bradley doesn't want to eat the dinner he's cooked, even though he asked him three times what he'd want before he started cooking, he caves in and orders takeouts despite spending nearly two hours in the kitchen.

Mav is tired. He doesn't like being the bad guy all the time, he can't do everything either, and Ice disregarding any sort of discipline or change he tries to implement is not helping at all.

"You can't be the fun uncle anymore," is what Mav tells him. "I need you to be his parent, with me. I can't have you both working against me."

The thing is, Ice's never expected to be a parent. He realized he's gay since he was about fifteen and knew that if he ever married, it'd be a levander marriage, with a wife he'd never touch and probably divorce fast enough that the lack of kids would be understandable. He hasn't been around many kids either, mostly isolated throughout most of his childhood, certainly not enough to see healthy parenting in place. As a kid himself, he was mostly self-sufficient, with his mom dead and his father absent or disapproving most of the time. It's the only thing that got stuck with him when he's around Bradley --- he never wants the kid to feel alone or like he's doing something wrong just because the adults are not appropriative of it. He sees himself in Bradley whenever he looks upset when they tell him what to do or when they punish him for misbehaviour or when he simply doesn't know how to make it better for him. Spoiling Bradley is so much easier than denying him anything or even negotiating a compromise for him.

Mav might have been like Bradley in a lot of ways, but his mom never had a family friend that could take on a parental role for him --- he had to fill the void his dad left in their family from a very young age. When he entered foster care when she passed, he didn't have many options. It was either misbehaving and ruining his life before it started with a suspended sentence or an accident or pulling himself together. In some foster families it was misbehaving and not eating or walking around with a black eye or behaving and staying above the water line until they would relocate him again. He knew what discipline was and he met many many parental figures he could learn from, both bad and good stuff. He's met kids that were older than him and then became them and met kids younger than him. Learned tricks and things that work for certain development stages, learned parenting can't just be soft if he wanted to keep the kid alive and healthy.

So Ice starts to learn, slowly. Saying no is still really hard, but he starts negotiating and asking for things. Starts telling Bradley to do things he doesn't like. Sometimes he helps him do those things, but doesn't do them for him anymore, not from start to finish anyway. He tells Bradley Mav is right and he should listen to him, explains why he's right whenever Bradley talks back when Mav chews him out. He starts getting a grip on the things parents are supposed to be there to make sure that are happening --- homework, food, cleaning Bradley's room, making sure the kid is showering and sleeping, wearing clean clothes, managing tantrums and outbursts in a way that is different than caving in and leaving Bradley to deal with them alone. They become a team again, Ice as Mav's wingman in the whole parenting gig.

Mav starts to breathe again.

Eventually, Bradley grows out of the grieving phase. He's still a teenager, but Ice likes to think they did an alright job sorting him out. He's a sensitive kid, still, and Ice likes to think Bradley knows it's okay, that they love him no matter what. He likes to remind himself that the instances when Bradley makes puppy eyes at them to ask for a new guitar or for extra money for a theater or when he just crawled between them on the couch or the moments when he rumbles on about some asshole from his class freely as he peels potatoes for Ice --- he reminds himself Bradley feels loved enough to not feel like those moments are a burden on them. Reminds himself he's not only alive and healthy, but also happy and they made sure of that.

When Bradley calls Mav dad for the first time and Mav is mortified, Ice finds himself jealous. For the first time in his life, he realizes he wants to be a dad. Then he realizes he wants to be Bradley's dad and he feels equally mortified as Mav. Neither of them was ever supposed to be Bradley's dad.

Ice is still a bit softer. It's not that Mav can't be fun --- he can tease the kid, play around with him, take him on outings and places that Bradley enjoys more than anything. He is the one who takes him flying for the first time and the one that screams at his matches, and the one who teases Bradley relentlessly as he helps him prepare for his first date. But Ice gives in a bit more easily, let's Bradley make the choices a bit more freely as he grows up.

They both hover but in different ways --- Mav is always, always kind of around, trying to protect Bradley from anything he can, especially as the years go on and he realises how much shit teenagers get into. Ice likes to think Bradley is sensible and that even if something happened, he knows he can count on them and would let them help him if need be.

Mav watches like a hawk as if Bradley could ruin his life with one wrong move and tried to predict if it will happen at any given moment. Ice isn't stupid, he knows Bradley is going to fuck up time and again, everyone does. But unlike Mav, he doesn't want him to have a perfect, unproblematic life. He wants him to feel safe and loved enough that no problem would seem too big or irreversible.

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Mirotic

warnings: college!au frat party setting cuz i live vicariously thru fics, chan and reader are music majors, mirror sex, dirty talk, oral(f receiving), hair pulling, semi-rough sex, cocky chan, slim thick reader(really i just mention readers ass a lot), some self deprecating comments, weed usage, unprotected sex, squirting, having sex on someone else’s bed, i think that’s it lol

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts forever and I just never finished it. think imma start working on an ateez fic after i post this one but we’ll see. hope whoever reads this is having a good day/night and that you enjoy it! ~ nero

chan x female reader

word count: 5.4k

You parked your car on the side of the street knowing that it would be the easiest way for you to get back after leaving the party. You were coming up on the end of the semester and your friend Jisung was adamant that you needed to take a break. Take the edge off the imposing doom of finals and come to the party his frat was hosting. The aura frat parties brought was never really your essence, but you’d never turn down a free drink so you thought why not. 

Stepping out of the car and brushing out your skirt you shut the door and began the trek to the building. You could hear the bass from the music echo outside, neon lights adorning the front of the frat and you felt your stomach drop a little. Suddenly feeling somewhat nervous. 

I wonder if Chan is gonna be here tonight

You thought to yourself and suddenly you became critical of your outfit. It’s not that you looked bad, it’s just now you were wondering if it would catch enough of his attention. 

Chan was one of Jisung’s best friends. He wasn’t in the frat technically, but he was around so much that they almost considered him an honorary member. Chan had also been in your music theory classes for the past three years and over time you developed a small crush on him but had never done anything about it. You’d much rather chew on your crush, hiding it in the deepest parts of yourself and keep it platonic rather than embarrass yourself by outing your feelings. 

You finally reached the front steps of the frat house only to be greeted by none other than Chan himself.

“Hey! Y/n, how are you? I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”

He held his red solo cup out to the side so he could give you a hug

“Hey Chan, I didn’t know you were gonna be here either. Ji insisted that I needed to take a break from preparing for finals.” you chuckled out

“Ugh, tell me about it. I know juries are coming up in a few weeks but I have no motivation to work on my pieces.”

“That’s exactly how I feel! But ya know we’re so close to being done we might as well just power through, ya know.”

Chan sighed

“Yeah, you’re right, but still.”

Letting out an airy chuckle, his attention seemed to divert for a moment. You looked at him trying to figure out where his mind went and you almost didn’t catch it, but you caught him raking over your body.

“Wanna go grab a drink? I feel bad keeping you right here at the door”

You nodded, following him inside the front door. Passing through the entryway, you realized how packed it was this time around. This wasn’t your first party Jisung invited you to, but it was definitely the first one where the house was almost completely packed. Forcing you to slide sideways through crowds of people

Guess everyone needed the night off

“Y/N, do you want punch or something from one of the coolers?”

It wasn’t Chan’s voice that brought you out of your thoughts but rather his hand resting on your lower back and his head coming to your ear so that you could hear.

“Ummm, I think I’ll do the punch for now. Are there any truly’s in the cooler?”

“I think so yeah.”

Walking over to the cooler you bent down to sift through all the cans. What you didn’t realize was that while you were digging through the variety of drinks, Chan was watching your every move. Watching every curve of your body bend with the way you moved. He almost lost his composure watching you finally stand up from your crouched position, your skirt riding up a tiny bit and your ass being accentuated. Turning around he had a solo cup waiting for you.

Shaking the truly can you looked at him and smiled

“Gotta add just a little extra”

“Oh, my bad I guess I should’ve asked”

You furrowed your brow wondering what he meant until you looked down at the cup and saw that he had filled it nearly to the brim

“God damn Chris! I know you’re a giver but shit!”

You laughed out. Taking the cup, you brought it to your lips and sucked down about a quarter of the punch so that you’d have room to add your truly to the mix in the cup. 

“It will never not amaze me how you put away alcohol. It’s impressive honestly.”

You looked up at him after meticulously topping off your drink and finishing the truly in one go.

“It’s just cuz I’m fat, it takes a lil longer to metabolize for me. I feel it but not quickly.”

Chan rolled his eyes and looked at you with a slight glare.

“I’m kidding, damn! You don’t gotta eat me alive with your eyeballs”

“Y/N, you know I don’t vibe with you talking bad about yourself”

“But is it really talking bad about me if it’s a joke? Cause if that’s the case, I got a lot of beef with how you talk about yourself.”

Chan went to open his mouth but then immediately closed it after he considered that you were also right.

“That’s what I thought”

You smiled to yourself, finding amusement in the situation.

“Have you seen Ji, by the way? I wanna say hi to him before I forget tonight.”

Chan whipped his head towards you

“You plan on drinking that much??”

“Only if I get left unattended.”

“Well, then I guess that means you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of the night. And actually, I think he’s upstairs at the pong table.”

“Shall we go?”

Chan nodded and held his hand out. You eagerly took it while he led you through the house and up to the second level in the loft where the ping pong table was. There was already a game of beer pong in play so you just watched off to the side, noticing that Jisung had his turn next. Walking up to the edge of the table he noticed the two of you standing off to the side.

“Hey lovebirds! Lemme get this shot real quick”

Chan removed his hand from yours, Jisung’s comment making the blood rush to his ears. You paid no mind to it, even though you did kinda miss the feeling of his hand in yours. Jisung tossed his ball and it sank into a cup almost in slow motion

How is he always so good at this game?

He threw his fists in the air and walked over to you guys. Giving Chan a bear hug, he softened his body language when he turned to you.

“You made it!”

“Yes, I did. I figured you were right”

You giggled out.

“So what was with the hand holding? Y’all finally together?” 

Unbeknownst to you, Jisung was teasing Chan. Chan had told Jisung in passing that he may have a crush on you. You also had told Jisung about your crush on Chan but never expected him to do anything about it. Obviously, Jisung had other plans that he informed neither of you about. He was trying his best to take advantage of this information and see if he could get it out of him in front of you. But before Chan could answer, you but in, saving him from his own embarrassment.

“Ji, it’s not like that! He just gave me his hand so it’d be easier to come up here. There are hella people downstairs. It’s crazy!”

You widened your eyes as a small warning to Jisung not to push it any further. He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Uh huh, whatever you say.”

You sucked your teeth and looked down the hallway trying to hide your own embarrassment. Searching for another topic quickly your eyes widened again. 

“Ji! Is your balcony “off limits” tonight?”

“Yesss. Why you ask?”

“Well I might have a lil something something that I’d like to put to use”

“If you’ve got an extra joint to put in my nightstand by all means head to my room”

You hugged him, more than excited to get faded tonight as well. You looked over at Chan trying to get a gauge on where he was, but you couldn’t quite read him.

“Channnn, what you wanna do right now?”

“Huh, uhh, I kinda wanna play a round of pong”

You and Jisung spoke in unison

“For real?!”

Your mouth hung open and Jisung took the reigns

“Dude I haven’t seen you play literally since freshman year. You think you still good?”

“I used to whoop your ass at this Hannie, don’t get cocky now.”

Jisung laughed, bringing his hands together to rub.

“Well, if you’re playing that means Y/n’s gotta play too.”

“What?! Why me?”

“Cause baby, you never play and you should”

“Well, what’s in it for me?”

Chan set his cup down on the banister he was leaning on and faced you fully.

“How bout we make a bet? You be on Jisung’s team 'cause he’s gonna need help and then we can bet for the winner.”

Jisung’s mouth hung open.

“You’re wrong for that one man.”

Chan just laughed.

“If you guys win, you can pick a punishment of whatever for me. I’ll give you time to think about it since I know how you are. But if I win…I get to smoke whatever you brought over and..”

He paused, leaning down to your ear to whisper the next part

“...I get to fuck you.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate sped up. Heat immediately pooled between your thighs and you weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol finally taking over, Chan’s bet throwing you into an overdrive, or both. You took a deep breath and held your hand out.

“Deal.”

Jisung was looking at the two of you, wondering what the second part of the bet was. Narrowing his eyes he walked back over to the table to set up the cups for another round.

Needless to say, having Jisung as a partner was straight ass. He’d get a few good shots here and there, but Chan was a beast at the game for no reason. You really didn’t stand a chance from the beginning. With one last cup on either side, it was your shot. Your ball hit the edge of the cup on Chan’s side and you dropped your head in defeat. 

You didn’t even wanna give Chan the chance to shoot his ball because you knew he’d make it anyway. So, you picked up the cup and began to bring it to your lips, but before you could, you felt liquid splash into your face. Looking down in the cup you saw the ping pong ball floating in your cup and you looked over a Chan to see his tongue in his cheek smiling. 

“Asshole.”

You called out over the music.

“Ji you fucking suck!”

You laughed while pushing him on his shoulder

“Hey, I never said I was good baby. I just said I liked to play.”

Jisung came to your ear to whisper something

“What was the second half of his bet?”

You moved so he could hear you.

“I’ll tell you later.”

You giggled and chugged back the liquid in the cup. Chan walked over to your side of the table and motioned down the hallway.

“Wanna go smoke?”

“Uhh, yeah sure. Ji, you cool if we go?”

“Yeah that’s fine, just don't fuck on my bed.”

“Ohhh my god, dude.”

Chan chuckled but you were already making your way down the hallway, Jisung called out to you

“Make sure to leave the joint please!”

“Got it dickhead!”

“Love you!”

“Sure you do”

You mumbled under your breath. Making your way to his door, you walked in and waited for Chan to catch up. Once he did, you locked the door to make sure no one else would try and come out to the balcony as well. Digging in your bag, you found the joint and left it on his bedside table, and left an extra lighter. Knowing Jisung he probably lost the last one anyway. Turning around, you looked at Chan.

“Okay so I only have my bubbler because my pipe is gross, are you cool with that?”

“It’s your weed how am I gonna tell you how to smoke it?”

“Well part of your bet was to smoke my shit so I just wanted to make sure”

You chuckled a bit to make sure he knew that your comment was said in jest. You walked to the balcony door and laid out your stuff so you could pack a bowl. Chan followed you outside but didn’t say anything. You could tell he wanted to but he was holding back.

“Sooo, about your bet…you wanna fuck me?”

“Y/N, I- I don’t know what came over me when I said that, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Really it’s up to you and if you don’t want to then that’s cool too. Really, I don’t wanna ruin shit between us.”

You smiled to yourself as you finished filling the bubbler with water. 

“Who said I didn’t want to?” 

You looked up at him, eyes doe-like. The angle that you were at making him feel a little unhinged. You were on the floor setting everything up in fear of something falling out of your hands. So the way your eyes translated from the floor up to him, he felt his cock twitch behind the stiffness of his jeans.

“Wait, you want to?”

“Don’t you hear good? I just said that.”

You laughed again, your heart racing and now nerves were getting to you. You felt it on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to say it, to finally tell him but you didn’t want him to run away. 

Fuck it. 

“I… kinda like, like you like you. So I’m not terribly opposed to the idea of having sex with you. I want to actually”

Silence. Your heart dropped to your ass. You just fucked up. Handing the bubbler up to him, he simultaneously was coming down to your level to sit across from you. Wanting to change the subject you spoke again.

“Winner hits first. And please corner the bowl and not set the whole thing on fire, you dork.”

He looked up at you and something in his eyes had changed. He looked a lot less nervous. Before taking his hit he looked at you again and opened his mouth to speak.

“I like you like you too.”

He smiled and took a hit from the bowl. 

“Shut up.”

“I do!” 

Even in the pale moonlight shining on the both of you, you could tell he was going red again. 

“Gimme the weed before I start screaming. I can’t believe this. How long?”

You took a long hit. 

“How long what?”

Holding in the smoke and exhaling slowly, you handed the bubbler back to Chan. 

“How long have you liked me for?” 

“Since our second semester in freshman year…”

“Freshman year?!! Dude you’ve been holding out on me.”

He took his drag and handed the bubbler back to you. 

“What about you?”

You looked up at him, hinting at your answer. 

“It’s the same time wasn't it?” 

“…yeah.”

You bowed your head embarrassed once again

“So You have no room to talk!” 

Before you spoke you felt your body fall into its state of being crossed. Suddenly your eyes became heavy and you felt your reservations begin to melt away. 

“Yeah but you’re the man! You’re supposed to tell me first!” you said giggling

“Yeah, and you’re hot! So I was nervous every time I came around you. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t wanna mess up our friendship.” 

You took another hit before handing it back to Chan. 

“God. We’re both idiots.” 

You slammed your face in your palm and waited for Chan to finish. He went to hand it back but you passed your turn, knowing you had already hit your peak. 

“You finish it, I'm gone.” 

You watched him light the last of the bowl and something about the way he looked doing it sent palpitations straight to your core. You were fluttering around nothing and couldn’t do anything about it. You wanted him and you wanted him bad. But you refused to make the first move, you couldn’t. You had too much pride. You shifted your position, and the pressure from your legs made your eyes wanna roll to the back of your head. Watching him clear the smoke and blow it away from you sent you over the edge.

He’s so hot

As if he knew your thoughts, he turned to look at you, his tongue buried in his cheek again with a smug grin. 

“Whatcha thinking about Y/n?” 

“You.”

Your mouth moved before your brain did and you didn’t entirely regret it. 

“Really now?”

Chan leaned forward and you bit your lip looking at him through hooded eyelids. 

“Mhmm”

Chan placed the bubbler on the ground and you placed a hand on his knee, slowly making your way up his thigh. You looked at him again head on, and the look in his eyes was completely blown over by lust. 

“Why don’t you come over here”

He chided. His smirk annoyed you but also set you ablaze. You untangled your legs and moved to straddle yourself across his lap. You wrapped your hands around his neck, one of your hands finding solace near the nape of his neck playing with his hair. Your eyes dropped to his lips and traced his face back up to his eyes, teasing him while also searching for permission. But again, your pride wouldn’t let you make the first move. You wanted him to show that he wanted you, but you so desperately needed friction.

You moved to reposition yourself, but in doing so you felt his bulge. His hands moved down to your ass, grabbing handfuls of the fat. Your eyebrows furrowed upwards, desire wreaking your sense of self. 

“You’re hard already? I haven’t even done anything”

“Can’t help it when you’ve got the sexiest girl sitting in your lap. And this ass… fuck”

He moaned out and guided your hips to roll over his jean clad cock one more time. 

“I need you, Y/N. But I need you to tell me you need me too because once I start I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then have me however you want, Chris. I need you so bad. Please, make me feel good.”

You whined out, rolling your hips against him one more time. He grabbed your face and his lips were on yours. Years of hidden desire and pleasure unleashed the moment your lips touched. You both had wanted this for so long and now the feeling of finally having him on you was almost too much to handle. His hands found their way back down to your ass again, squeezing and molding the flesh however he pleased. You moaned into his mouth, the licentious amalgamation of his mouth and his groping was enough to have your panties begin to stick to your lips. 

Chan swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking access to something that was already granted. Your tongues didn’t battle for dominance but rather battled all the lost time you two had created. There was lust, love, and a burning need for each other being expressed. His hands moved toward the hem of your shirt and you swiped it off your torso immediately. His hands reached around your back to remove your bra and as it fell his lips wrapped around your nipple. You moaned out, throwing your head back and grasping his hair in your hand.

“Shit~Chan.”

You felt him smile against you and you pulled away to look at him. He motioned you to move back, and as you stood up, he followed you and then pressed your back against the door to the balcony. His hands wrapped around your face and neck again, cradling you as he smashed his lips against your own. 

His hands traveled down your ass groping you once more, but what surprised you was what came out of his mouth next. 

“Jump.”

“What?”

“You heard me baby, jump.”

“But ion wann-”

“I said jump. I promise you, we’ll be fine.”

Shutting your brain off for a moment you listened to him. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine and another flutter to your core. You jumped and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He opened the door and placed you on Han’s bed. Chan crawled up to you, his face lingering over yours. He left a trail of kisses starting from your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts and he found himself again with his lips wrapped around your nipple. He continued his trail down to the hem of your skirt before you stopped him.

“Chan, wait. Ji said to not have sex in his bed.”

“What, are you gonna tell him?’

“Well, no.”

“Then we didn’t do anything in his bed.”

He smiled and almost made his way back to his destination before you stopped him with a whine.

“What is it, baby?”

“You still have your shirt on, it’s not fair”

Chan chuckled but swiftly removed himself from his shirt.

“Better?”

“Much.”

You smiled before he made his way back to the hem of your skirt and pulled it down exposing your black lace lined panties. 

“Aww, how cute. You were expecting something weren’t you?” 

“N-no. I just wanted to wear them.”

“Whatever you say, baby. But I have to ask, can I take them off of you now?”

“Fuck, please do.”

You moaned out and as soon as you gave the okay, you felt the cool air greet your wet pussy. 

“Such pretty little pussy. Can I eat you out, baby?”

“Fuckin hell Chris, please. Please do whatever you want to me. I want you in every way you can imah~!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Chan’s tongue swiped up your folds and his tongue played with your clit like a little bell. Swiping back and forth, up and down, he was eating you out as if you were his final meal.

“Shit shit shit, Chris. Oh my god”

He smiled against you.

“Fuck princess, say my name like that again.”

“Ch-chris! Shit, you’re so good at thi-”

You moaned out again, your back arching away from the bed as he entered two fingers into your wet cavern. Gripping at his locks, you felt the heat begin to stew in your lower body. It was like electricity was flowing through your lower half and you wanted nothing more than to implode on yourself.

“Channie, I’m about to cum, please don’t stop.”

“C'mon Y/N, you know what to call me. Don’t slip up or I’ll have to stop.”

“No no no Chris, please, please don’t stop. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so bad.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg.”

He dove back into your center, picking up the pace slightly as he curled his fingers inside of you. You began to flutter around him incessantly, your orgasm just on the precipice. The pressure that was building was almost unbearable and you couldn’t hold out for much longer.

“Chris, I-I”

“C’mon baby, cum for me”

That was all you needed. His permission and with that you came around him. It felt like such a big release. You couldn’t tell if your orgasm was that intense because what you had been wishing for had finally happened or if the fact of you being crossed was the culprit.

“Y/n, that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Han’s gonna be upset though.”

You looked at him confused. 

“What do you mean”

Chan looked down and you followed his eyes to the puddle that was seeping through the duvet cover on Han’s bed. Mortified you shoved your face in your hands. You were about to apologize when Chan moved your hands away from your face.

“Don’t you even think about apologizing. That was one of the sexiest things you’ve done this entire night and I kinda want to see if I can make you do it again.”

He smiled at you, but you could see the devious intent behind his kind facade. 

“Now I’d love to sit and admire you, but I really need to be inside of you Y/N.”

Chan moved from the bed to peel off his pants and he climbed back over you.

“Condom?”

“I’m uh, I’m on the pill”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, 100%. I want to feel you, all of you.”

“Fuckin hell baby, alright.”

Chan looked at you one last time before lining himself up with your entrance. He teased just his head and you mewled against him, trying to shove yourself down onto him. He chuckled before fully sheathing himself within you. You both moaned as he entered you fully, your breath hitching as he did. He started with a slow pace, so slow that it was agonizing. 

“Chris. Please, faster. I can’t take it.” 

“I’m not sure if you can take it, baby. I need to stretch you out a bit more, get you used to me” 

You gripped at the sheets moaning again

“I can take it. Please, please just go faster! Have me however you want. Make me yours.” 

At the end of your begging, you saw a switch flip. As if the sweetness that was Chan faded away and the person you were left with was far more immoral. Left with someone stricken by the pangs of lust and willing to do anything to satiate it. 

“God, you’re so fuckin hot” 

Chan picked up his pace and you realized you really weren’t ready. Chan grabbed your hips and began drilling into you. His cock was reaching you in places you never thought of. The tip of it kissed your cervix with every thrust and the pain transformed immediately into paramount pleasure. You could feel the ridges of his cock sliding in and out of you and you felt your senses start to become overstimulated. 

“Chris, fuck. Fuck oh my god!”

Chan looked down at you 

“Yeah? You feel good baby?”

“Yes, oh my god. Fuck you’re so big” 

You began fluttering around him again and your nails found themselves sliding down his back. Marking him as your own. He moaned out at the stimulation. 

“Wanna make sure everyone knows I’m yours, baby?”

You whimpered with a nod and rolled your head back into the bed. Suddenly he pulled out of you. Before you could complain why he had you flipped over on your hands and knees and reentered you from behind. 

“Fuuuckk. Chris!” 

“Oh, baby. Look at this ass, you’re so fuckin sexy.” 

With each thrust, the fat of your ass rippled against him and it made him feel just a bit more untamed. Chan was grabbing at your ass, moving it counter with his thrusts. His hand then trailed down your back to wrap in your hair and when you looked up you saw yourself in the mirror behind Han’s bed. 

“Look at my baby. All fucked out just from me, hmm?”

All you could do was moan in response. Thoughts were not coming in full, especially with the view of yourself looking right back at you. 

“Too dumb to answer me Y/N? Have I fucked you dumb, baby?”

Moaning out again you found your voice 

“Yes, yes! Just for you. All for you. You make me feel this good, Chris.” 

Chan removed his hand from your hair and wrapped it around your neck instead, pressing on the pressure points underneath your jaw. You squeezed around him, the choking sensation bringing you to your peak faster than you thought. 

“Aww my baby’s a little filthy, isn’t she? She likes being choked. I wonder what other filthy things you want me to do to you” 

You moaned out his dirty talk bringing you right to the edge. 

“Chris, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Please, please let me cum.” 

You practically sobbed. He was making you feel so good and you couldn’t handle it. His hand came down to rub your clit and bring you to the release you’ve been craving since he entered you. 

“Cum baby. Cum around me. Just one more time I know you can do it.” 

And there it was. Just as abrupt as the last, your orgasm shook you. Your core vibrating with waves of pleasure and your pussy squeezing around Chan’s cock. You began heavy breathing as Chan fucked you through your orgasm. 

“Please, cum inside me, Chris. I wanna feel you fill me up.” 

That was what pushed him over the edge. You felt his ropes of hot cum splat and pool against your walls. His moans landing right in your ear with his head resting against your shoulder blades. He slowed his pace down, riding out the waves of his orgasm. Pulling out slowly he rolled over onto his back and you did the same. 

“You squirted again.”

“Again?!! What the hell.”

He laughed 

“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed by it. It tells me I’m doing a good job. So I’m not complaining.” 

“You’re gross” 

You punched his arm lightly. 

“Says the one that begged me to fill them up” 

“God please don’t repeat what I said out loud I’m gonna wanna run away.”

“But it’s so hot Y/N. You’re so beautiful and then the dirty little things that fall from your mouth. God. I can’t help but replay it.” 

You rolled on your side to look at him 

“Soo…”

“Sooour”

“I do not say it like that” 

“Yes, you do Chan.” 

Now the both of you were laughing both glowing in the aftermath of sex and finally confessing to each other. He moved a piece of hair from your face and looked at you with eyes full of wonder. 

“So I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I really do like you and I want us to continue this beyond just sex…so be my girlfriend?” 

“I think that’s the most forward I’ve ever heard you be.” 

“Oh shut up, just answer the question.”

“I’d love to” 

He made a small yes and double fisted at your answer 

“I think we should get food in the morning to celebrate our discovery about each other.” 

You laughed

“You’re such a dork. I think we should get food now because I am suffering severely from the munchies” 

A hearty laugh left him. His eyes crinkled and that smile that you love so much was plastered on his face. 

“One problem though.” 

He turned and pulled you closer to him, to which you moved to straddle him again. 

“We somehow gotta change Jisung’s sheets before he finds out.”

Chan sat up and you felt his cock begin to harden again. 

“We’ll I kinda want another round with you before we fully clean up.”

“I’m up for that” 

“Yeah?”

You nodded quickly and smiled at him before landing your lips on his. Grinding against him you felt him become fully hard again and before you two could continue you heard the lock on Jisung’s door turn to open. 

“Oh, c'mon! I thought I said to not fuck on my bed.”

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Grandpa Ackles

Summary: Y/n was enjoying her husband’s new style post Supernatural, that is until a certain pair of glasses come onto the scene. How will Jensen feel about her teasing? 

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1.7K+

Warnings: Language, age gap (implied), unprotected sex (don’t be silly..)

Author’s Note: This baby was born from a little razzing session I had with @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons regarding those glasses Jensen wore. It quickly turned into this mess that I forgot about in my drafts. I hope you enjoy it. As always I would love to hear your feedback xoxo Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The love and support of the Supernatural fandom had been the spark that helped Jensen to come out of his shell. From singing at conventions to releasing his album and everything in between. He was far more at ease now than he had been back in 2005. But the truth was she hadn’t seen him blossom more than since the series finally wrapped. From getting to grow out his hair and the relentless press junket for The Boys, he’s been getting to show off his creativity and style like never before. Most of the time she was behind him all the way, but today’s choice had her questioning the man she had married. 

They were currently on set with Entertainment Weekly doing yet another interview. Y/n had followed her husband across Europe and now Los Angeles to support him in his recent endeavor. Now she found herself standing behind the cluster of monitors that showed each camera angle. Naturally, she was focused on Jensen, but not for the reason one would expect. 

It was like a train wreck, something she couldn’t look away from no matter how hard she tried. Her husband had first slipped the blue-tinted glasses onto his perfect face when they were about to walk out of the dressing room. At first, she had thought they were sunglasses and she was rightfully confused about him putting them on at that moment, but he walked right onto the set with them still in place and that’s when it hit her. They were a statement piece for his outfit. 

God, she loved her husband but she was seriously questioning his choices. The black-framed glasses were ever so slightly to big for his face. The lens appeared prescription strength in the way that they distorted his eyes to appear larger than reality. Sure, he wore reading glasses periodically at home but never had they made it into any sort of interview or red carpet before. Though he wouldn’t admit it to her, she knew it made him self-conscious about his age, especially considering the difference between them. So she would tell him how much she loved them, which wasn’t even the tiniest bit of a lie. Those glasses framed his face well and made him look refined. These on the other hand, well, as much as she tried to love them, it simply wasn’t happening. 

The interview lasted roughly an hour before they were back in his dressing room to pack up their things. Once he had cleared out the dressing room they hopped into a car to take them back to their hotel. Y/n waited with bated breath for him to remove the glasses, but he never so much as acknowledged them. Jensen conversed politely with her until they made it back to their suite. She plopped down onto the edge of the bed, watching him as he began to unpack his bag from the day. 

“Are you going to tell me why you keep looking at me like that?” He questioned finally, his one eyebrow quirking at her. 

“I-” Y/n chewed on the corner of her lip while she tried to find the words. “What is with the glasses?” 

“What do you mean?” Jensen crossed his eyes, playfully attempting to look at the specs without taking them off.

“Did you lose a bet…” her words trailed off, earning her a frown from her husband. 

“You don’t like my glasses.” It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t… not like them,” she tried with a smile but her husband knew her better than that. Jensen crossed his arms with a warning look, asking her to tell the truth. “Okay fine, they look like a bad 70’s accessory. I’m sorry, baby, but they are not it.” 

“These are Gucci,” he defended. Y/n hid her mouth behind her fingers, stifling a smile at his knee-jerk reaction to her opinion.

“I know this, and I love you, but just because you are playing, as you call him, a grandpa, doesn’t mean you need to dress like one.” Y/n made air quotes with her fingers as she talked. She knew she was digging herself a hole but damn it if she couldn’t stop talking. 

“Whatever, I need to change,” he scoffed as he began undoing the buttons on his shirt. The blatant roll of his eyes told her he was over this conversation but that didn’t stop what slipped out next. 

Y/n cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, “Start with the glasses.”

Jensen froze, his eyes narrowing at his wife. She smiled at him, her tongue peeking out between her teeth. Before she could blink he darted towards her, his arms encompassing her as he tackled her into the bed.  A shriek left her mouth as the couple barreled into the plush furniture, quickly dissolving into giggles as he pinned her to the mattress.

“Careful, Jay, don’t need you breaking a hip.” Her words came out between snickers. She was quick to realize how worked up she had gotten him. 

“Funny, you weren’t saying that two days ago,” Jensen encompassed her with his form, one hand on either side of where her head lay. 

“Guess that was before I realized how close you might be to needing help from a little blue pill…” She let the words hang in the air, watching her husband’s jaw drop. 

“You gonna regret that,” he mumbled, dropping his voice as he cocked his head. 

“Promise?” Y/n bit her lip, a final challenge before Jensen dove in, capturing her lips with his own. Immediately she melted into the comforter, her hands moving to finish his job of undoing his top. Her work was distracted as the actor trailed his pillow-soft lips down her jaw and neck, using his tongue to suck the tender flesh into his mouth. A moan fell from her lips as he nipped her collarbone, the action egging him on. When she finally popped the last button, she hurriedly pushed the thin fabric from his shoulders. 

Jensen sat back on his legs, working open his belt and jeans as Y/n lifted her dress over her head. He let out a low whistle, letting his eyes roam down the expanse of her body, now just in a pair of panties. 

“I’m waiting, Grandpa,” she smirked, raising her arms above her head to emphasize her breasts for him. 

“Damnit woman,” he grunted, now in a hurry to rid them both of their offending bottoms. Once they were both exposed to the other, Jensen leaned back over her, again capturing her lips with his own in a heated kiss. He sucked her lower lip between his teeth as his hands ran down her curves. The action set her nerves aflame, warmth amalgamating low in her belly. 

In a second, his warmth was gone, and his large hands were flipping her onto her stomach. She rose to her hands and knees without a second thought, knowing that Jensen was not going to do her the courtesy of prepping her for him. The woman got no warning before her husband entered her from behind, his cock stretching her in every delicious and agonizing way. Her chin dropped to her chest as he set a grievously slow pace where she could feel every inch of him. 

“Fuck, Jay. Faster, please?” The words were a breathy plea on her lips. 

“What was that, baby?”

“I need more,” she reiterated. Jensen ran his fingers through her hair before gently tugging on the strands, pulling her frame up and flush against his own. His arms wrapped around her torso, the new muscles she loved so much dwarfing her body as he drove into her, faster with every thrust. His grunts were low, but deafening from their proximity to her. The sound was like music to her ears, each one helping to push her closer to the edge of oblivion. 

“Look at you, so wrecked from taking me like a good girl,” Jensen breathed out, his praises earning a whimper from his lover. “Do you think you deserve to come?” 

“Oh, fuck.” It was the only thing her brain could formulate at the moment. She knew this was a torture of her own creation. Y/n had pushed him to prove himself, knowing full well what would come of it, and damn it if she wasn’t regretting that now. The thing was he absolutely would deny her if she didn’t grovel. And it wouldn’t be the first time either. 

“I can’t hear you.”

“Nobody can fuck me like you. My body is yours.” It was the truth and had been since that first night together so many years ago. He had thoroughly ruined her for anyone else and still to this day proves that he knows her body better than herself. “I can’t come without you.” 

“It’s a start,” he murmured, his game punctuated with every thrust of his hips. His left hand traveled up to her throat, applying light pressure just above her collarbone. 

“Please.” She was nowhere near above begging him for release. 

“Since you asked nicely,” Jensen finally relented, using his opposite hand to press against her clit. The combination of sensations sent her over the cliff like a switch had been flipped. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the overwhelming sensations he continued to deliver until he too finished, rutting against her as he spilled himself inside her. 

His grip against her loosened and he let her back against the hotel comforter, taking care to keep her steady on her trembling legs. Y/n rolled over onto her back, staring blankly at the ceiling as her breathing evened out. Her husband joined her, resting his head against her stomach. Mindlessly her fingers came down to run through his long blonde locks. 

“Still think I need the blue pill?” He asked and she could feel him smile against her abdomen. 

“Fuck you,” she huffed out a laugh. 

“I think you just did.”

“Ugh, fine, you win this one, Ackles,” Y/n playfully pushed her husband from her side. “But next, time don’t expect me to cave so easily.”

“Oh?” One of his eyebrows shot up on his forehead and immediately she regretted her words. The actor was on her before she had a chance to blink, ready to prove himself as many times as it would take. 

Forevers: @440mxs-wife @akshi8278 @emoryhemsworth @ever-mischief @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @jbsgirl4ever11 @jensengirl83 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maggiegirl17 @maliburenee @muhahaha303 @mrsjenniferwinchester @sexyvixen7 @spnwoman @suckitands33 @stoneyggirl22 @supernatural3002 @traceyaudette @xlynnbbyx 

[bi-scottsummers]

Hi, hello, just came here to say that I love your fic "trending in Japan". I was wondering if you had headcanons regarding Kenji or Emi or interpersonal relationships and stuff. Many hugs for you.

hi hello, thank you for the encouragement and hugs! After some thought ive realized I do in fact have some hcs about some of the character dynamics in the movie as well as just kenji himself, cause hes captivated my entire brain:

Kenji & Emi

Emi does not have teeth but she does inexplicably have a teething phase. kenji is forced to hide all his (salvaged) fancy cars in the garage bc the corvette's already been chewed to hell and his heart is gonna give out if he has to watch any more classics get wrecked

he reads her bedtime stories. A lot of aesop's fables, because theyre short and fun and hes trying to raise his monster daughter with good morals. emi goes hogwild for these but its unclear if she actually understands what hes saying; kenji's pretty sure she just likes the silly voices he uses for different characters

they go flying together! they go first thing in the morning before breakfast - it helps kenji shake off the grogginess of sleep and emi gets to stretch her wings. shes not able to go very far for very long initially, but as she grows and gets those cardio gainz she almost gets to be quicker than him. they have races and play air tag :)

while she doesnt have the vocal range to speak english herself, it becomes clear that emi does understand it well. (kenji also develops an ear for her chirping/squawks, though body language & facial expressions play a big part in communication for both of them) during her (much later) rebellious phase she'll simply pretend not to know what's being said when kenji is telling her to do something she doesn't wanna do, which frustrates him to no end

Kenji

developed a pretty massive chip on his shoulder after moving to the states. it wasn't just bitterness over his dad staying behind, though that was a part of it. this is canon but he was picked on in school for "how [he talked], how [he looked] and what [he ate]." he felt like he had something to prove to both his father and the world. he threw himself into sports - specifically baseball - and his academics, and he did so well that it forced everyone to shut up about how he was different from them and focus on how he was better than them

^ playing off this: kenji had a bonkers fucking yonkers routine when he was a kid/in highschool. he'd get up hours before school started to practice his swing, go for a ~1hr run, workout, study, etc. He'd go to school, come home, and do it all again. this is exaggerated but my point is that this kid was DETERMINED and had the discipline to see that determination through to the end

didnt have many friends because of all aforementioned things. he had acquaintances, and he was invited to parties and outings and stuff (never went), but he spent most of his free time hanging out with his mom. he never really had a "parents are so embarrassing" phase. he always liked to do anything with his mother: going to the bank, going grocery shopping, watching cheesy telenovelas till ungodly hours in the morning, etc. she was his no.1 supporter, confidant, and best friend

he played for his university's baseball team and got scouted at 19. his mom forced him to finish his bachelor's first so once he graduated with his degree in kinesiology at 21, he was drafted to the dodgers

Kenji & Ami

both of them, up until meeting each other, were totally dedicated to their career (and child) so they had basically 0 time for friends. theyre both borderline losers but theyre juuust good enough at what they do for people to admire them instead of finding them sad and lowkey pathetic

kenji is way more into the idea of being friends than ami is. hes pretty enthusiastic about it; he thinks that they have a kind of rapport, since they share a similar work ethic and are both (unbeknownst to ami) single parents. he calls her to chat abt random things. ami initially isnt superrrr into it; she thinks kenji is kinda lonely and desperate for human connection, & it isnt until her mom points out that she has not spoken to anyone outside of work-related reasons in 10+ years that shes like oh shit, i am also lonely and desperate for human connection. so she grudgingly acquires a friend. theyre both really bad at it

need to clarify that in my mind their dynamic is 95% kenji yapping about work and drama in his personal life (circumventing the 8m baby kaiju hes raising) while ami goes "mhm mhm" and takes notes until kenji notices and is like What are you doing. at which point ami is like...... right . nothing. im listening. and forces herself to put the notepad away. she has a hard time disengaging from the reporter mindset and just hearing something intriguing without turning it into an article. the other 5% are the rare moments where theyre connecting super well - ami's psychoanalyzing the hell out of whatever kenji just said and hes like what are you my therapist. over time she starts opening up to him, too, and eventually theyre comfortable enough to be having philosophical discussions over breakfast just for funsies

before kenji reveals that hes ultraman, ami thinks hes in a gang. he keeps showing up to their lunch "dates" with like bruised eyes and fractured bones and gets all shifty when she tries to ask about what happened. when she eventually confronts him about it, hes so offended that she thinks hed be involved in something like that that he tells her about being ultraman

thats about all i can think of rn, though im sure ill think of more after rotating all the characters in my head for a while. thanks again for stopping in, i appreciate the support :)

[phopollo]

Still working on that Stex cartoon au/idea, I promise, but I got nervous when it came time to do the rest of the coaches, the fuels, anf the components, so I had t draft doodle them, and now that I finally finished then, here's my favorite from each group just to give you guys something to chew on while I work on their proper references

Bonus doodles to explore some character dynamics w/ some of the guys who don't have refs yet