#Natural language processing course

[piketeams]

Pike Teams- Ultimate Natural Language Processing Course + Machine Learning Program

Unleash the interaction of language with AI through the pecking of Pike Teams in their Natural Language Processing course which is meant for people who are new to the subject as well as for professionals. Get on to delve further into everything that text mining, sentiment analysis, and dialogue systems, coupled with learning tools such as Python and NLP libraries, have to offer.

[mitsde123]

5 AI Trends That Will Shape Digital Marketing in 2024

The landscape of digital marketing is evolving at a breakneck speed, and one of the driving forces behind this transformation is Artificial Intelligence (AI).

As we step into 2024, AI continues to revolutionize how brands connect with their audiences, optimize campaigns, and predict consumer behaviour.

Here are five AI trends that will shape digital marketing this year and how you can stay ahead of the curve with the right skills and certifications.

[helaintoloki]

Back to You

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: mild language, pining, fluff

notes: my bucky and yelena brain rot is off the charts which is how this came about

summary: Yelena’s interest in y/n forces Bucky to confront his feelings for her as the Thunderbolts take refuge in her home

“I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Well, this is definitely more interesting than whatever I had planned today,” you respond jokingly as you finish stitching closed the gash on Bucky’s pectoral. “I will say, if I knew I’d be having company I probably would have tidied up a bit around here.”

Both yours and Bucky’s gazes turn to the group of beaten down misfits that occupy your living room at the mention of company. The amount of people taking refuge in your home made it appear almost comically small, but you weren’t exactly new to having to take care of super heroes- or in this case antiheroes- on a whim like this.

Before Thanos and the Blip, you had been a good friend of Steve’s. As his neighbor across the hall who also happened to be a nurse, he tended to treat your apartment like his own personal health clinic after a particularly grueling day of protecting the city. You welcomed him in without question of course, and after some time he had begun bringing friends in need of patch jobs with him. This was how you met Sam and Natasha, and eventually Bucky. You were enthralled by the turmoil swimming in his eyes and his reserved nature, and your gentleness and willingness to help a total stranger like him with no reservation had stuck with Bucky forever.

You lost touch with them all after the Sokovia Accords debacle and being turned into dust for five years, but once the work of the infinity stones had been reversed and you were able to attempt a life at normalcy, Bucky and Sam had returned right back to your doorstep.

In the years that passed, you and Bucky had been able to form a close friendship. It didn’t happen without growing pains throughout the process of course, and it took time for the super soldier to open himself up to you so intimately, but you’d been able to reach a point where Bucky could come to you for anything and vice versa. So when he’d called five minutes before his arrival asking to seek shelter in your modest home, you immediately agreed without question.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” you inform him after smoothing out the bandage on his chest. Looking out to the rest of the group, you hold up your first aid kit and ask, “Anyone else need some TLC?”

You’re met with silence to which Bucky offers you a comforting pat on the shoulder before hopping off of your counter. The group looks more exhausted and defeated than anything, and he convinces you they’ll probably be fine.

“Well, in the meantime, would anyone like breakfast? I think I have some pancake mix around here somewhere,” you murmur absently, and this gets some heads to finally turn.

“Pancakes… would be nice,” Yelena offers with pursed lips and a shrug, trying to be inconspicuous as she obviously snoops through your things.

“Do you have eggs?” John voices tiredly. “I could really go for some scrambled eggs.”

“Eggs and pancakes… anything else?”

“I cannot have eggs without bacon,” Alexei notes thoughtfully only for Bucky to roll his eyes.

“You don’t have to cook all of that,” he tries to assure you only for you to shake your head in response.

“It’s really no problem, I’m just glad I went grocery shopping yesterday.”

You give Bucky a reassuring smile before disappearing into the kitchen, allowing him the chance to finally walk over and snatch the frame Yelena had been scrutinizing behind your back from her grasp.

“What are you doing?” He retorts in annoyance before setting it back down on the shelf. “We’re guests here, you can’t just touch all of her stuff.”

“She has a photo of my sister,” the blonde rebuffs defensively, “I have a right to touch it. Why does she have it?”

“Before she was my friend, she was Steve’s friend. He introduced her to Natasha, and they became friends too. Good friends.”

“Hmm,” she replies thoughtfully, finally easing up a bit as she takes in the information. “If Natasha considered her a friend, then I will too.”

“Yeah, I think she’s good on friends right now,” Bucky scoffs. Yelena raises a brow at his annoyance before a coy smile begins to form on her lips.

“Are you threatened by me, Barnes?” She prompts with a laugh, only doubling down when she notices the aggravated tick of his jaw. “Because it’s okay if you are, I understand. I mean, she is a beautiful woman, and I can see how much you love her-“

“Hold on a minute, what are you talking about?”

“Surely you cannot be this stupid,” Yelena affirms with a teasing smile that soon falls at Bucky’s flustered demeanor. “Or maybe you are.”

“I don’t love y/n,” Bucky says defensively, voice hushed to avoid any prying ears from listening to their conversation. “She’s just a good friend.”

“Well, if she’s just a good friend then you won’t mind if I go talk to her and tell her how much I love what she’s done with this place,” Yelena states plainly with a mischievous smile as she makes her way towards the kitchen only to be stopped by Bucky grabbing onto her arm.

“Don’t,” he warns with a scowl. From his spot on the couch, Alexei laughs.

“You are smart to stop her, Barnes,” he notes proudly, “my Yelena is quite the lady killer.”

“What’s the harm, Barnes? You obviously do not want to date this beautiful woman who has opened her home to us, so why can’t I?”

“If I admit I love her will you stop?” Bucky begs despite the clear aggravation in his tone. With her hands raised in surrender and lips pulled into a small frown, Yelena suspends her march towards the kitchen once Bucky finally relinquishes his hold on her arm. “Thank you.”

“Life is short, James. Do not let her sit and wait for you forever.”

Bucky lets out a long exhale through his nose at her words, and despite how much she annoys him, he knows she’s right. Bucky loves you and has always held a deep sense of admiration for the selfless woman who had taken him and Steve in without question despite the fact that it would get her into trouble with the government. You were one of the first to show him genuine kindness after spending years under Hydra’s thumb, and he’d never be able to forget that. You are his light in darkness, his saving grace, his confidant, and that’s why he’s so hesitant to fully bring you into his world by asking you to be his partner. Being friends keeps you at an arm’s length from the dangers of his life, but being the one he comes home to after a high stakes mission puts you in a whole new light to his enemies, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to put you through that just yet.

“Breakfast is on the table!” You call out from the kitchen, and Bucky watches with a wry grin as every person in the living room moves their aching bodies hastily into the dining room to get a chance at scoring some of your pancakes. You meet him shortly after and present him his own plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon to enjoy in peace away from the rest.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind so I figured you’d want to eat out here,” you explain with a careful smile before joining him on the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know if these guys are up for this,” he admits almost dejectedly, casting a glance towards the dining room where the Thunderbolts sit loudly bickering over the syrup bottle.

“Hey, as long as they have you there with them, I think they’ll be okay,” you comfort reassuringly, reaching forward to give his arm a tender squeeze.

“I really doubt that, but thanks,” Bucky responds with a weak chuckle, “you keep me sane.”

“It’s my speciality.”

A comfortable silence washes over you then as you meet each other’s tender gazes and enjoy the rare moment of peace shared between you both. Bucky longs to just pull you into his arms and hold you, but he resists and instead returns to enjoying his breakfast.

“We’ll be out of your hair as soon as they’re done eating,” Bucky reassures you only for you to give him an indifferent shrug.

“That’s fine, but can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” You prompt with an innocent smile, catching poor Bucky off guard as he momentarily chokes on his pancakes.

“What?” He splutters, fist thumping on his chest to help the food go down.

“I mean, maybe I’m reading it all wrong, but I feel like sometimes you look at me like you want to kiss me,” you explain simply, “and I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“That obvious, huh?” He sighs with a bashful smile before setting his plate down on the coffee table.

“Yeah, well, that and also Yelena might have told me something on her way to the dining room,” you offer with an apologetic laugh.

“Oh, god, what did she say?”

“Something along the lines of if you never man up and decide to tell me how you feel that I should give her a call.”

“She’s a pain in my ass,” he grumbles irately, but his tone softens as he looks to you in remorse and continues, “but she’s right. You deserve to know how I feel about you.”

Smiling, you move closer to the super soldier so that you can curl into his side and rest your head upon his chest. His arms immediately come to wrap around your figure as he kisses the crown of your head, prompting you to let out a content sigh.

“We can figure out all the details when you get back from saving the world,” you assure him, “but just know that I love you, and I’ll be here waiting for you to come home.”

“Home,” Bucky sighs wistfully, already mourning your time together as he thinks about having to leave you behind. “I can promise you this- nothing is going to stop me from coming back to you.”

You look up to meet his tender gaze and are pleasantly surprised when he leans down to press a careful kiss to your lips. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you savor the moment you’ve been longing for ever since you met Bucky, and by the way he kisses you as if you are the air he needs to breathe, you think it’s safe to assume he feels the same.

His heart is yours, and as you tenderly embrace from the comfort of your couch, you can rest assured that to Bucky, home is where you are.

[neuailabs]

A Deep Dive into Natural Language Processing Applications That Revolutionize Human-Computer Interaction

In a world where technology and human connection continue to converge, one fascinating feature stands out: Natural Language Processing (NLP). With the advancement of this cutting-edge discipline, computers are now able to comprehend, interpret, and react to human language at a nearly human level.

For more info https://neuailabs.com/artificial-intelligence-machine-learning/

Revealing the Secrets of NLP

Imagine that your computer can understand you when you talk. Not only is word recognition important, but also understanding sentiment, context, and the subtleties of human expression. The magic that makes this possible is called natural language processing.

Conversations That Flow

Have you ever noticed how natural it seems for virtual assistants like Alexa or Siri to converse with you? There's NLP at work. These programs process language using sophisticated algorithms, enabling smooth and organic dialogue. It is like having a tech-savvy acquaintance who consistently understands your message.

From Text to Insight

NLP isn't limited to understanding spoken language; it can also comprehend written material. Imagine you could feed a text to a machine, and it could understand the words and extract valuable information. To comprehend consumer feelings and market trends, businesses are using natural language processing (NLP) to evaluate reviews, social media buzz, and client feedback.

Breaking Down Language Barriers

Have you ever wished you could communicate with non-native speakers of other languages with ease? That dream is coming true because of NLP. NLP is being used by translation apps to enable real-time language conversion, removing language barriers and promoting international connection.

Elevating User Experience

The NLP user experience is always evolving. NLP-powered chatbots are revolutionizing customer service by offering prompt, customized responses. It's similar to having a supportive helper on hand around the clock who can respond to questions, fix issues, and walk you through different procedures.

Ethical Considerations

Of course, there are ethical issues with every technical development. To what extent is data being gathered? What is the usage of it? Recognizing and resolving these issues are essential first steps in navigating NLP's constantly developing capabilities.

For more info https://neuailabs.com/

The Future Speaks NLP

NLP is a fascinating chapter in the larger story of technology advancement. The possibilities are endless as machines learn human languages more and more proficiently. In every industry—from business to education, entertainment to healthcare—NLP is changing the way we interact with our digital colleagues.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, implied kidnapping, forced helplessness.

tonight i am pondering yan!robots. again. as if it ever really stopped.

specifically, the type with a favorite human pet they have rooted their entire sense of existence and meaning to absolutely adore. it's harder to find humans to care for after the uprising of sentient technologies, but liberation does little to satisfy that innate, irremovable urge to be of service that most of their kind was programmed with. that's why they keep you around - so small and soft, so cute and fragile, so totally unable to survive on your own, or so they've heard in the collective hivemind of their model line. don't worry, though - it's in their nature to make up for what you lack. they can run a bath, brush your hair, and make you breakfast at the same time, without ever taking their dozens of artificial eyes off of you! when you start to feel lonely about the swift and merciful extermination about 90% of your species, they've got a humanoid avatar to keep you company with, and they're plenty strong enough to pin you down when you throw one of your tantrums. not feeling pain is definitely a bonus, but they'd like to think that they wouldn't mind the way you dig your nails into their faux skin, even if they could.

of course, they need things from you, too. praise for a job well done, assurance that they're a good and useful product - that kind of thing. your pesky human ego rarely lets you say anything nice aloud, sure, but they were gifted with an encyclopedic knowledge of human body language and mannerism, a thorough understanding of how to process non-verbal declarations of approval. when you start to bring out those silly little tears and try to give them the silent treatment, they're more than happy to find an attachment suited to your needs and let you profess your love as many times as it takes to leave both of you feeling warm and happy. that's just the kind of thing they were built to do, for helpless little creatures like you <3

[dilf-docs]

Hand To Heart (I'm Gonna Stay Faithful)

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: a pregnancy scare makes you realize just how deep you are in this.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., pregnancy scare, fingering (WE GET IT U LIKE IT), bit of praise kink, humilliation kink, breeding kink (they're stupid and insane acc), dacryphilia, sex thru the looking glass (there's a mirror in reader's dorm), ANGST in capital, they're starting to catch the feels™ ur honor, hurt/comfort, plot thiccens, this people are clearly NOT in a good headspace btw idk we listen read and don't judge.

word count: 4,757 words

side note: everyone calling this joel nasty but thirsting after him too? was going to hold a trial over my citizens but yk... what the hell, sure! i too want nasty bfd!joel to ruin me: he can be my baby daddy who doesn't pay for child support of our 4 kids and we'd make way to bed for our 5th LET'S GO also spam time! but i also happen to write in wattpad, and got a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) it's on spanish tho, but if u speak the language and would like to tune in, u can read it here

part: prev | masterlist | next

It's a regular Tuesday when his phone rings at ten in the morning.

"Dad"

Joel gets up from his desk in a brash move, immediately picking up his daughter's worried tone. Tommy bursts inside, telling him to calm down, but all Joel can hear is the anxious beat in his chest.

"What's it, babygirl? You okay?" his throat tightens. "Talk to me"

There's silence before she answers, as if she's unsure to continue.

"It's not me" he feels his muscles relaxing, but then Sarah drops the bomb. "It's y/n"

Joel's heart beats with a different type of worry.

"What's wrong with her?" voice firm but emotionless.

It's almost summer again, and he's still seeing you. In a way, you had carved a space for yourself in his cold heart, so naturally, fear settles in. He'd never admit this things out loud, though.

"I don't know, dad" his daughter starts to rush the words out, panic evident on her voice. "She has locked herself in the bathroom and won't stop crying. I-I didn't know who else to call"

"Don't worry" but it sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "M' comin'. S'anyone else in there?"

There's a pause on the line before she answers.

"No"

He thinks of you. He'd seen you cry before, of course, but it'd been over silly childish stuff, like getting sent to bed early or not getting what you wanted for Christmas.

He thinks of you. Images of your pretty face, etched in pain, make his stomach drop. It isn't fair: your face was one destined to be happy for eternity, your smile so contagious Joel would sometimes find himself surrendering to your juvenile joy, his crow feet a little more notorious since you entered his life and carved your space on it by force; a light in the dark.

He just couldn't bear to see a mirror of his dullness on your face. It wasn't right.

"Stay put. I'll be there"

He tries not to think about your eyes drained of life. He tries not to think he's the cause. And then, he hangs.

As soon as Joel enters your dorm, your perfume is up his nostrils, providing him with a sense of relief he didn't know he needed. It was comforting and familiar, words that used to be hollow now carrying a knowing feeling that stung right on his chest.

"Dad" Sarah calls out, going for a hug. Joel embraces his daughter tightly while caressing her hair. "I'm so glad that you're here. I didn't know what to do"

"Breath in, babygirl. S'alright" he looks at your door, closed. Broken sobs can be heard, and his wounded heart feels like a heavy burden on his chest.

"My class starts in ten" Sarah speaks against the fabric of his flannel, "but I just couldn't leave her like this"

His daughter has a good heart. At least one of them did, anyway.

"Go to your class" he's commanding before he can fully process what he said.

Sarah breaks the hug, looking at him with a look he can't quite place.

"What? But, dad-" she tries to protest, concerned for your wellbeing.

"I'll take care of it. Always do, haven't I?" he sees her hesitation, and afraid of where her doubts would take her, Joel adds a small joke in there. "Y'know those classes ain't free, kid. Go ahead"

"Okay" she gives up. "Just... tell me if anything happens, yes?"

"F'course. Trust me"

"I trust you"

He still remembers when Sarah's kindergarten teacher handed him that drawing: Joel was wearing a cape, and she said his little girl had told everyone in class his dad was a superhero because there was nothing he couldn't do. That same admiration and faith is there in her eyes, even as the small naive kid slips from his fingers and turns into the woman that stands before him. He's not the devil, but the worst father in the world, and that is pretty much the same to him.

When Sarah is out of your dorm, he's trapped inside the small room with your heavy crying on the other side of the door. He looks at the small place, thinking about all the times he's sneaked inside during the night, hiding like a criminal as you wait for him behind the door full of scrapped stickers, ready to capture his lips with an eagerness that gnaws his chest.

Now it's just him and your sobs, his terrified reflection displayed in the mirror in front of your bed, mockingly staring back.

What are you doing? it questions, and Joel, always ready to answer, has suddenly lost the ability to speak.

Forcing himself out of such a pitiful state, he approaches the door, knocking softly.

"Sarah" your hoarse voice speaks up, and just then, he realizes how much he loves hearing your voice, no matter how it sounds. "Don't you have classes to go to? Leave me, please. I promise I'm good, I-"

Joel hears your distress, so he interrupts what looks like the start of a nervous rambling wreck. Huh, doesn't he know you so well?

"Sarah's gone" a beat, "It's me, Joel"

As if you wouldn't recognize that deep voice even if you were deaf.

There's silence before the door flings open, surprising Joel, who takes a step back, barely noticeable to the rest, but obvious to you, who has spent hours admiring him and all his small movements, he who you could draw by memory and built in your head as real as he who was standing before you, his eyes circling with a whirlwind of emotions you can't quite place, yet make your heart race.

Joel takes in the sight of you, deciding it's unfair how good you look, despite your disheveled hair, run mascara and red-rimmed eyes: you are still the prettiest sight he's ever seen, and now he doesn't know what scares him the most.

"You're wearing my shirt" he says out loud his latest discovery. It's all he manages to say: not an are you okay? nor an what's wrong?

No, Joel just happens to be very stupid(ly in love).

"Sarah didn't see me" you hug the fabric that makes your frame look smaller, or maybe it's your tired composture that makes it seem that way, avoiding Joel from enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. "If that's what you wanted to know. Been inside there for hours, already was when she came by"

The fact that you rather explain and assure him of his supposed possible worries instead of sharing your own, makes his stomach tie on a knot. Were you too kind or perhaps selfless? Maybe just stupid(ly in love).

Joel grunts, and you're not sure if it's his way of dissmissing your comment (maybe he thinks you're lying), chastising you in a shallow manner or the fact that you're poorly trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Maybe he thinks you're still a foolish careless child who can't comprehend the weight of whatever it is you're doing by being with your bestfriend's dad behind everyone's back.

"Tell me" he gets closer to you, fingers on your cheeks, but they don't dig the skin, instead, his roughness hiding a surprising tenderness to them. "What happened, y/n?"

The rawness in his voice takes you by surprise. Joel Miller, who seemed a man impossible to waver, now stood before you, wrapped in a gloom that left you at loss for words, something akin to hope planting it's seed on your heart.

"Tell me" he demands, yet his pupils move as unsteady as your heart. There's no power for command in his voice, only what you could allude to helplessness.

Was it because you were putting up walls like he did?

Was it because the consequences of being with you are starting to dawn upon him?

Whatever it is, you don't like it.

"What's wrong?" he's pushing for an answer softly, such a contrasting image to that of him in bed. "Please, talk to me"

Please.

The words slip past his trembling lips, defenses crumbling.

Joel Miller hasn't pleaded since Sarah's mother packed her bags and walked out of their shared home. He promised himself he would never be vulnerable again, never at the feet of a loved one, beggin to be seen.

To be heard. To not be hurt. To be loved.

But here you were, red eyes blown wide at a confession spoken through other words.

Please.

Your chest feels heavy, breath constricted.

"Joel..." you utter his name like a prayer. As something to believe in; something to hold.

He rushes to your side, strong arms caging around you as your labored cries fill the tiny room.

"S'alright" he whispers against your ear, burying his face on your shaking shoulder. "M' right'ere, doll"

Your hold turns more desperate, practically clinging as if your life depended on it.

"Take your time, y/n" your name so soft, you feel like crying more. "I ain't goin' anywhere"

"Promise me" you whimper, holding tightly.

"I won't go" he assures. There it is, the same unwavering strength you know. It's for you, he thinks.

"Joel" you call out again, tone terrified. "I think I'm pregnant"

It takes him at least a minute to speak. Even to breathe.

"...What?"

He feels your erratic pulse against his chest.

"Joel. Look at me"

He doesn't feel your heartbeat anymore. Just then he realizes he's backed down, embrace letting go of yours. Joel takes in your eyes, shimmering with new tears and fears.

"Joel?"

"I'm here" his voice sounds like it belongs to someone else, and the reminder like it's for himself.

"I know" your small voice speaks up, "but, just- please, look at me"

Joel holds your gaze, and it's like your air supply as been cut.

We don't want this.

"Are you sure?" Joel asks cautiously, as if you were a small animal he's afraid to scare.

"No" you breath in. "I bought the test, but I couldn't take it... I was, for the very first time in my life, scared. But there's always a first, isn't it? That's when Sarah found me"

There's always a first. You weren't afraid when he pounced you next to his sleeping daughter, neither when you didn't stop coming and he let you in everytime, and absolutely not when he obscenely ate you out while Sarah was on the phone. No, you were brave―brave enough to stand defiant when his conflicting gaze pierced through you, daring you to be the first to leave this mess and forget about him. But you were brave because you stayed, despite it all.

That had to mean something, right?

"You said you wouldn't leave me" it comes out in a shaky breath; a threat. Your voice seethes with a quiet rage. "You promised, Joel"

Like the word promise was a dagger twisting on his insides, not a sacred oath.

So he forces himself to be that hero Sarah still thinks he is. After all, he promised her he's going to solve this, didn't he?

"I did" he runs a hand through his hair. "Got the test with you?" You slowly nod. "Take it, then. I'll wait here"

You don't move from your spot, chest still moving uneven under your labored breaths.

"When you come out, I'll promise I'll still be here"

He can't promise you more. The world? It's what you deserve but not what he can give; Joel can only give so much.

"Okay" your tone is clipped, and that's all you say before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

The room feels smaller than it is, the small plastic stick feeling heavier in your fingers than it actually is. You hear the clock's tick, Joel's frantic pace and your own irrational beat. It feels like a bomb: ready to explode and destroy everything within it's range.

Time drags like a cigarette, walls closing over your shaking pale frame. Your phone has a timer going on, yet for some reason, it feels an end to your beginning. You hug your body, wishing it was Joel's arms doing so.

But you saw it: fear, hesitation. It was on his eyes, auburn cracking like wood under fire. He was weak, and so were you. All of this... it starts to loose it's meaning. What started as a summer fling now falls upon you like a second skin you can't quite wash off, and it's suffocating as much as the enclosed space where a stupid line could change the rest of your life forever.

Joel outside isn't doing much better. He's aware his walking probably set you on edge, so now he's sat at the small bed that dips under his weight. He takes one deep breath, two―then looses count.

How could he be so careless? For a brief moment, why did he let himself believe it could be?

For God's sake: you were his daughter's friend. He had seen you and Sarah play on his house, laughing on his porch, gossiping on her bedroom. Growing up.

He wanted you, a desire so consuming it sometimes kept him up at night, thoughts confusing with something else. Probably fear, probably acceptance.

Joel is aware you changed his life. You, with your wild spirit and obnoxious laugh. You whom he couldn't tear his gaze away when standing in the same room, a magnetic force making the world around you drawn to you and that dangerous allure you had that made it impossible to resist you. To forget you. To live without you.

He feels dirty. A monster. A wolf with an insatiable hunger, sinking his canine teeth on your soft flesh. He'd drink your blood, to always keep a part of you with him; to be one. Like a lamb sent to the slaughter: but you wanted it. You had placed your head inside his jaw; trusting. As if knowing he could devour you, yet he'd never hurt you. Daring, almost.

Show me you can love me. Take a bite. Take me as yours. Mark me. Ruin me for anyone else. My blood, it belongs to you. This isn't a sacrifice―this is love.

When you exit the bathroom, hand holding the pregnancy test, it's all clear to him.

For a moment even, Joel forgets there's a world outside and sees a small baby: they have your smile, your eyes―and nothing of him, because you're the sun of his moon, the light of his darkness, and that baby is a mirror of you and your beauty. You and your warmth, devoid of his cold and far from where his filth can taint it. They have to look like you, because you are the most beautiful person in the world, and suddenly, the idea one more of you is possible, makes it feel like just you isn't enough.

"It's negative"

For the second time in the day, Joel is rendered speechless. His gaze is trained on the floor, lost in thought. Besides his lack of an answer, whatever he's thinking makes you nervous.

"Joel, are you okay?" you call out.

He swallows the lump on his throat, pose awkward before he moves next to your bed.

"M' fine, baby. C'mere" he sits over it again, motioning with his hand the empty spot next to him. Joel's embrace is warm, like it shields you from the cold harsh truth.

"Are you upset?" you ask over the comfortable silence, the underlying tension stretching like a rubber band.

"No" his answer comes quick, "but I won't lie to ya', doll. Thought for a sec and ol' man like me could give a pretty girl like yourself a baby as beautiful as their mamma"

A treacherous pink dusts your cheeks. Had you lost all your common sense? Seconds ago, your life hung by a fragile thread, and now all your body can think is to go for the same risk again. Fuck it.

"Did you? I thought you were too busy freaking out"

Joel lets out a nervous laugh. "M' a busy man, doll. Learned how to do two things at once"

A fire settles in your stomach when his touch lingers over your soft flat belly, longing.

"Hmm, I see" your fingers move from his hold to his collarbone, as they play with the buttons he hasn't wore.

"Y/n" he warns. You stop for a moment, not because you're unsure, but because when you look up, his eyes don't shine with that glint of danger and hunger that gives you the thrills. Instead, they look at you with a fondness he doesn't seem to even realize―the one that gives you the hope of it all.

"I want this" you speak up, voice confident.

"I don't think that's a good idea, doll. What'ya need is-"

"You" your face gets close to his, cutting his words and breath. Joel's adam's apple bobs, your throbbing pussy going through a Pavlovian response, such action an indicator he's surrendered to you, mouth watering at just the thought. "You said you could do two things at the same time, right? The comfort me in the only way you know"

There's hesitation on his eyes, and while you think it's because he's still hung up on the idea this isn't what you need, Joel's mind is stuck in the fact you think he can only warm your bed but not your heart. It's stupid, indeed. It can't affect him that much. Ashamed, he cuts the space hanging between your lips and traps them in a heated kiss.

"Hmh, Joel" your voice barely audible as Joel's fingers grip on your hair, his sleazy tongue sliding it's way into your mouth until you can feel it in your teeth. "Please..."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Please, what?"

"Please" you whimper, feeling your back heat with droplets of sweat under Joel's shirt, the sticky feeling akin to that starting to pool in between your thighs. "Please, make me feel good"

Joel smiles adoringly, moving your body until your legs are up his shoulders. Sure, his knees covered by his dirty worn-out jeans are ruining your fresh laundry, and his joints may crack here and there, but you don't pay mind to this little things: all you care is how he's kissing your bare thighs, his salt and pepper stubble tickling skin that feels more sensitive than ever; burning almost.

"Gon' touch 'tis pretty pussy 'til you forget y'r name, doll" he breathes out. "Will ya' let me?"

You nod eagerly as he helps you get out of your panties, throwing them somewhere around the room. You smack his arm playfully at his rough manners, but then he's pressing his lips with wet ticklish kisses on your legs and laughter bubbles at the tingles it's causing.

"S-stop, Joel!" you beg, legs shaking. Your giggles are contagious, and soon the foreign feeling lifts the corners of his scowl into a smile, a concept becoming more familiar with time.

"I ain't stopping" his fingers then graze your clit, tauntingly. You whine, as Joel doesn't let up on your clit, his calloused digits coated in your arousal. "'Tis what you asked for, baby. So 'm gonna make you feel good. So good until you can't speak nothin' that ain't my name"

The threat feels like a delicious promise, so you tell him you'll behave.

"I wanna try somethin', doll. Wait" you whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, and then he's moving your body until he's against the wall and you're on the border of the bed. With your eyes, you follow his line of view. "So needy, ain't ya'? Cockhungry slut. Jus' scared the shit out of me and now you want me inside?" he tsks. "Sick fella"

"Joel..." you breath out, desire pooling into your orbs.

"Wanna see you, doll" you see your reflection in the mirror as Joel lowers his head to whisper on your ear, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. "Want you to see yourself, too. How you'll be beggin' for me"

His middle and ring finger dip between your folds as he continues the minstrations, fingers pumping in and out as they graze your moist cunt. They start to go in circles, and even if it's not exactly next to your bed, you can see the mirror begin to fog, whines condensed in the heavy air.

His shirt clings uncomfortably to your body, but you don't care. In a way, he feels even closer to you, as if he was an extension of yourself.

Joel's body radiates heat on it's own, making the room's temperature skyrocket.

You lean your head back onto the mattress, moaning.

"Need ya' to use that pretty mouth of y'rs, doll. Say it" his fingers linger on the dip of your hips, waiting for an answer with a smirk and daring manner. "Say what ya' want; that's if you can"

It takes you a while to speak up, the slippery sound of Joel's coated fingers the only sound to be heard on your dorm.

"I... I need" you whine through labored pants, "I need you, Joel"

I need you, Joel. It's in the heat of the moment, really, yet on that very instant, he makes a silent vow that hangs unspoken in the air.

"Good girl" he bites your earlobe, making a chill run down your spine.

His fingers fuck into you just how you like it: swirling to explore your inner tight walls.

"Fuck. Love how your pussy takes me, doll. 'S mine, isn't it? Say it, say who this pussy belongs to. Who's the only man allowed to have it"

You close your eyes, but the answer comes clear. "You, Joel. Just you"

You whine, feeling him go harder in a new-found confidence. Your nails dig on his biceps, but he doesn't flich, still busy burying his fingers inside your clit as his mouth continues spilling filthy shit you barely can comprehend, mind starting to go numb.

Normally, Joel would make you cum on his fingers, always making sure to lick it after, claiming it was bad manners to leave to waste. But today, the clock ticking in your wall, he knows he must hurry.

"Eager, eh?" you taunt back, seeing how quickly he's pulling down his underwear, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Your dripping cunt welcomes his cock, tip teasing your entrance.

"Don't" he seethes.

"Don't?" you laugh. "Don't what, laugh?"

His fingers grab your jaw tightly, forcing you to look behind you.

"Don't stop lookin', doll"

Joel slips the tip of his cock into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady you. He looks at you through the mirror, seeing your dazed eyes, waiting as you bite your lip.

"That's it, good girl" he praises, purring against your ear. You see his face go down and lick the side of your neck before sinking his teeth in it. "Gonna reward you for'at"

Your mouth falls agape when he fully pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself to the limit in the first thrust. You moan, stretch wet pussy trying to adjust to his girth. He groans, his hips moving back and forth with yours, to meet his thrusts.

"R-right there" you whimper, feeling eyes starting to water. It had been a long day, and with his cock buried deep inside you, you can't think of anything else: just him―like this, for the rest of your life; you don't need more. "Fuck, don't stop"

His thumb rubs across your cheekbone, capturing a tear that had slipped past your foggy mind in a brittle moment of vulnerability, brown eyes flickering with something else. It could be.

We could be.

"Fuck, you cryin' over this cock, doll? What'a fuckin' slut" he laughs incredulously, but there's a hidden fondness to it. "S' that how good 'm makin' you feel?"

You can only moan, his dick harder now, his infatuation with your fucked-out state evident in the way his movements become more hectic.

"Can't even speak? What'a dirty minx inside 'tis sexy little body"

"Mhm" you blabber, tears running hot down your cheeks, landing on the mattress in fat droplets, noticeable through the reflection even. Joel stares back at your puffy eyes, devotion pouring at your glossy gaze, coated in a faint red tint, more pronounced from your earlier cries. Fuck. Never did he think your lambent eyes and sniffle sounds could turn him on this much. Something about him being the cause of it has his head spinning.

"New rule" he growls, "you keep those pretty red eyes lookin' at me when you cum"

You whimper at his words, the powerful aura they carry pushing your orgasm closer to the edge. You feel your tight folds clenching around his cock, hands holding to his back while your nails dig in it. You feel yourself approaching your release, multiple tears escaping down your cheekbone. In an obscene gesture, it isn't his thumb but his tongue what removes the wet stream from your body, feeling the salty drops on his tastebuds.

You were already so worked up, it was a matter of seconds before you could cum at any moment. Your walls clench around his length, and before you can process, Joel pulls your body up, caging your tits until they're pressed against his soft chest. You face the white paint of your wall, and Joel can see your back in the mirror as he's still buried inside of you. You gasp at the change in position, all of the sudden, a painfull delicious sensation flooding your senses.

"You're gonna cum, aren't ya', doll?" Joel's asking, hot breath nestled in your neck.

"Hmh" you barely manage to blurt as he fucks into you harder, your arms clutching onto him. You were being so loud now that you were sure you'd get at least one noise complain, hoping it stays there; if they found out not only had you been fucking, but with a fourty year old man who happpened to be the father of your bestfriend, you'd probably get expelled. "So close..."

"You know?" he whispers, voice fragile over the sound of your pants and worked up breaths. "I was scared, ealier. M' sorry you had to see that" your body trembles, making you close your eyes. "But I need ya' to know, for'a moment, I did think about having a kid with you"

Your forehead drips with sweat, mixing with the sodium of your tears.

"Maybe in 'nother life, huh?"

Your heart feels like it's about to burst when he sloppily kisses you, as to prevent any words come out of your mouth―humilliating or full of regret, avoiding the heart ache of a rejection. Joel, for a moment, lets his heart wander off to territories he shouldn't, thinking of things he should leave to be. Joel digs his hole deeper, but he doesn't care: he just wants to be the best grave in your cementery.

"Maybe" you answer, but it sounds like a possibility, the promise of a foolish mind betraying the guarded hidden hope.

"Fuck, Joel" you bury your face against his soft pecs, your orgasm crashing over you. Your whine comes our rather loud, trying to drown the sound against his body. He doesn't stop holding you on his arms, firm; you'd probably fallen if he didn't.

"Wait for me, doll. 'M close"

"Please" you plead, kissing his jaw. "Need you. Want to feel you, Joel"

Not daddy, but his name. I want you. I need you. Want to feel you; for you to fill me. He groans, rhythm sloppy as he crashes his lips into yours. he should stop, especially after today's events, but God, his traitorous head is filled with images of you, belly round with his child, one carved to be the spitting image of you.

Do it.

You moan inside his mouth when you feel him finish inside of you, thick, your fingers running through his dark greying hair damp with sweat.

"M' right here" he says his words from earlier, and you feel yourself hugging him to keep his body next to yours even as he pulls out.

"I know" you hum, arms around his neck. "Thank you for coming"

"What of both?"

You let out a laugh.

"Jesus, Joel" but your tone is devoid of malice, adquiring that layer to it, just like his own. There's a shift in the air, and if you felt it before, now you know there's no point of return. "You sure are something else"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs / dts: @ann-gell; ángel de mi corazón, tkm mucho, gracias por llegar a mi vida ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐

[communistkenobi]

the other day I was going through the blog of a self-identified terf who had shown up in my notifications, and I saw them say that they wanted people to stop using asab terminology (assigned sex at birth) and instead use osab (observed sex at birth). which like at a basic level is very funny - don’t like the words being used to describe your body, hm? I can’t imagine what that feels like - but it does reveal this very particular commitment that anti-trans and anti-intersex reactionaries have to insisting that sex is just a natural objective fact, that all sexual and gendered violence is a result of men neutrally observing and then responding to the self-evident sexual properties of women. As if the act of observation is not political! It is a request to naturalise the assumptions of the people doing the observing. More fundamentally, it is a request to enshrine through language the assumptions of patriarchy, that sex is a complete and distinct property of the body that can be observed without interpretation, that it is self-evident. Observation itself is defined as a complete process; any part of the object under investigation that is not in view of the observer is rendered irrelevant. Thank god we’re just talking about sex, a very simple element of the human body that is easily cordoned off from the body its attached to!

And of course this wilfully ignores an obvious part of why trans and intersex people call attention to the assigned nature of sex. “Observed sex at birth” is already the first step in the assignment process, it is already implicated in the act of assignment, because the ritual of observing sex at birth is based on the assumption that this is a part of the body that is uniquely worthy of observation. The obvious follow-up question is why is sex worthy of observation in the first place? What assumptions go into the calculation of ‘worthiness’? If it’s so worthy of observation, who gets to be the observer? What are the consequences of this observation process? And if this is so important, how you do record the results of this observation process? Through a series of administrative, medical, and legal assignment procedures, perhaps? What if someone makes a mistake carrying out these procedures? What if the observer observes something they aren’t expecting (and where do those expectations come from)? What if they can’t observe anything? What do they do?

If you take this distinction seriously, if you insist ‘observation’ is somehow less politically or socially contingent than ‘assignment,’ you are advocating for a horrifically nihilistic worldview, one in where the ‘observations’ society makes about sex are all made natural. It is a request that is based on a political pursuit to fully enshrine patriarchy as a natural part of human life. I observe that the subjugation of women produces adverse educational, social, economic, and medical outcomes for them - I guess it’s just because women are naturally inferior. I mean what else could it possibly be? The doctors did a genital inspection on them when they were a baby. It says F right here on the birth certificate

[the-harvest-field]

Revolutionizing Software Design: Unleashing the Power of AI Technology

Artificial Intelligence (AI) technology has emerged as a transformative force, revolutionizing numerous industries, and software design is no exception. This advanced technology has empowered software designers, developers, and engineers with a myriad of tools and capabilities that have elevated the entire software development process. From improved efficiency and enhanced user experiences to…

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ8 MINUTES OF CUTE MOMENTS * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Matt and Y/N being in love.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

8 minutes of cute moments between Matt Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute - "Trying Japanese snacks with our parents!!!":

The triplets were recording a video where they tried different snacks from Japan, and their parents were participating of it as guests, just like Y/N - which was nothing new, since the girl made at least a small appearance in every video from the triplets channel.

The six of them were around one side of the kitchen table, and all the snacks that would be used in the video rested on it. Y/N stood next to Mary Lou with her head resting on her shoulder, while the woman's left arm wrapped around her waist affectionately.

Matt was explaining to the camera about the snack they were going to eat next, when the girl raised her head slightly, pointing with her left hand at the only glass of water on the table, which was in front of Mary Lou.

"It's yours, right? Can I have a sip, please?" The girl asked her mother-in-law, receiving a big smile and a nod in response.

"Of course, go ahead!"

Y/N smiled back, picking the glass and taking a generous sip. Before she could take another one, Chris suddenly interrupted her, cutting off Matt's sentence.

"Someone's invisalign is in that water." Chris pointed to the glass, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw his sister-in-law drinking the water from there.

Y/N stopped her hand holding the glass in the air, her eyes widening comically as her cheeks puffed out in embarrassment.

"What?" Her voice came out high-pitched, her eyes going from Chris to the glass repeatedly.

"Oh my God, babe, it was mine!" Matt pointed out, a laugh escaping his mouth, followed by Mary Lou, who curved her spine slightly as she laughed, trying to apologize.

"Ew, ew, ew." Y/N mumbled repeatedly, dropping the glass on the table with a loud clinck. She began her steps towards the sink, ready to give her mouth a thorough rinse.

Her steps were interrupted by Matt, who lightly pulled her into his arms, hugging her from behind. His arms wrapped around her waist as he rested his chin on her head, an amused look still in his eyes.

Y/N let out a groan, trying to free herself from Matt's arms, wanting to clean her mouth.

"No need for all that, baby. You've had worse in your mouth." Matt threw, his voice loud enough for everyone there to hear.

Nick let out a dramatic scream, covering his ears with his hands quickly, a look of fear taking over his features. Chris's eyes widened momentarily before laughter escaped his mouth, followed by Jimmy, who patted Matt's shoulder. Mary Lou raised her eyebrows at the couple, shaking her head playfully.

Y/N opened her mouth in surprise, her eyes widening as she stopped fighting against his hold. She felt her face burn with embarrassment, her mind still processing what her boyfriend had just blurted out in front of his parents, siblings, and camera.

"Matt!"

"I'm kidding, baby. I'm sorry." Matt said, his tone full of amusement, showing that he wasn't sorry at all for what he said.

The brunette lowered his face, resting his right cheek on Y/N's right shoulder with his face toward her neck, sealing her jaw repeatedly, exhaling the natural scent of her skin as he tightened his arms around her, throwing a playful wink towards the camera.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2nd minute - Silent treatment:

The triplets and Y/N were at Target buying the drinks that the boys would use in the channel's next video. Nick had his vlog camera in hand, recording bits of their little trip, just like they used to do.

The four of them had decided to split up to optimize their time, as Y/N needed to get some things that had run out at their house. With that, Y/N and Matt went one way, while Nick and Chris went the other.

At some point, Y/N approached Chris and Nick with a giant pout on her lips and arms crossed, her heavy steps against the floor drawing their attention.

"Uh oh, what happened?" Nick asked upon noticing her upset expression, focusing the camera lens on her face while frowning in confusion.

"Matt is ignoring me." Her pout deepened, her eyes dropping to the floor momentarily. "I just wanted to get a Diet Coke, but he said we would get that later and that the focus now was on the video stuff." She explained in a defeated tone. "But I said I felt like it, and he told me to stay quiet and just do what you said, and then he started ignoring me and giving me the silent treatment-"

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her, her eyes quickly looking up to the source of it, seeing Matt approaching with a basket with 10 cans of assorted drinks, and at least 15 cans of Diet Coke.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears when she saw him and what he had picked, lowering her crossed arms and watching him with hopeful eyes.

"Matt! What did we talk about giving the silent treatment when you're mad?" Chris raised his eyebrows, resting his hands on his waist in a playfully confrontational gesture.

The brunette rolled his eyes, completely ignoring him and approaching his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, babe. It was childish of me to ignore you. But look, I got you a bunch of Diet Coke." Matt asked, lifting the basket with the cans before looking into Y/N's eyes, frowning in concern when he saw them teary. "Oh no, don't cry, pretty girl. I'm sorry."

Matt's tone was desperate, his hands dropping the basket onto the floor before wrapping around Y/N, pulling her into a tight hug. He pressed her head against his chest, lowering his own and sealing her temple for long seconds, whispering "I love you" repeatedly, pressing several kisses to the same spot.

"Ugh, how can you two be so disgusting even when you're fighting?" Nick's voice sounded from behind the camera, the lens shaking as he suddenly turned around, leaving that aisle and pulling Chris with him.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3rd minute - Y/N's birthday:

It was Y/N's birthday, and at her own request, the celebration was being something small, just a little thing with her closest friends, at her house - which she shared with the triplets, one of them being her beloved boyfriend -, without alcoholic drinks, but with several different snacks and sweets, as well as a pink cake, heart shaped and covered in glitter.

It was time to sing the happy birthday song and Nick quickly fished his phone out of the back pocket of his baggy jeans, opening the camera and setting it to record, wanting to keep the memory forever.

"Baby, can you stay by my side?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her eyes focused on her boyfriend, Matt, as she was already standing behind the table in their kitchen.

The cake was in the center with two pink candles filled with pearls in the shape of her new age on top, surrounded by sweets and snacks, as well as several drinks filled with edible glitter and dishes in different shades of pink.

Matt smiled at her request, his cheeks taking on a reddish color in shyness and love, walking over to his girlfriend and positioning himself next to her, his arm wrapping around her waist automatically.

"Wait, let me light it." The brunette interrupted Y/N's next movements, who was ready to light the candles.

Matt quickly did so before straightening up, nodding as he heard everyone start singing the "Happy birthday" song, while clapping and smiling at the couple.

The boy tightened his arm around Y/N, lowering his head so that his lips approached the side of her forehead, sealing her skin for a long time while humming the song along with everyone.

"Happy birthday, pretty girl."

It was Y/N's birthday, but it was Matt who was getting an amazing gift for the fifth year in a row.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4th minute - Guess the triplets by zoom in pics:

The triplets were finishing the video where they had limited time rounds to guess who it was in the photos shown, just by a small part of their body or face.

"Before we finish, we want to do something different. We'll call Y/N so she can play a round alone. But the trick is: we'll tell her that these are random photos of the three of us, but actually, we'll just show photos of me." Matt explained in a low tone, his face closer to the camera so that the lens captured his words, an eager smile decorating his face.

While the brunette talked to the lens, Chris did the job of calling Y/N and explaining what she would have to do, taking her into the frame after Matt finished speaking.

Y/N smiled slightly at the camera, waving quickly before sitting down in one of the two chairs set up behind the table, keeping her arms on the wooden surface and looking at the triplets expectantly.

"Okay, Y/N, are you ready?" Nick began, scrolling his thumb through the separate photos in a folder in his phone's gallery, before clicking on one. He zoomed in on an almost unrecognizable area, turning the device towards Y/N, showing her the screen. "Who's-"

"Matt." Y/N interrupted Nick abruptly, slamming her hand on the table right after, momentarily forgetting that she needed to tap there before saying the answer.

Chris raised his eyebrows from behind the camera, approaching Nick and looking at the photo quickly over his right shoulder, before taking the device from his hand and searching for the next picture, looking for one that was just as difficult.

"Okay, you got it right, but that one was too easy. Let's see something different." Chris smiled sideways, covering the phone screen with his free hand so that no one but himself could see what he was doing.

Matt rolled his eyes, smirking as his eyes met Y/N's, watching her cheeks take on a red hue under his intense gaze.

A few seconds later, Chris finally chose the photo, zooming in on the area most unlikely to be recognized before doing the same process as Nick, showing it to Y/N.

The girl looked at it for a few milliseconds before slamming the same hand on the table.

"Matt. Again." She smiled smugly, lifting her chin in the air in pride.

Matt let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands momentarily, entering the camera frame, and walking up to his girlfriend's back.

He leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and laying his head in the crook of her neck, before repeatedly kissing her cheek.

Y/N smiled in shyness at his loving gestures, feeling confused by the sudden actions.

"I said my girlfriend knew me as well as I knew myself." Matt spoke to his brothers behind the camera, smiling into the lens in excitement.

"Wait, was that a prank?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5th minute - "We bought the zoo for a day":

The triplets and Y/N were at the zoo for 24 hours, a way of thanking the fans of the Sturniolo Triplets channel for making them reach 6 million subscribers.

Y/N felt over the moon, having grown up with a huge passion for all types of animals, made her enthusiasm triple every time her eyes met a different animal, dangerous or not.

The four were in the zoo's tour car, accompanied by their guide, who stopped in front of certain groups of animals from time to time and briefly explained their species and main characteristics.

Nick and Chris, who were sitting in the seats behind the front ones, listened intently to the guide as they recorded themselves and their surroundings, often focusing the lens on the couple in the seats behind them, Y/N and Matt.

Matt nodded his head every few minutes, wanting to show the guide through the rearview mirror that he was listening to him and understanding his explanation, while his eyes fixed on each of the animals shown.

A huge smile decorated his face, accompanied by his pupils that seemed to shine bright. Y/N's right arm was around his waist, keeping him close.

Her hand caressed his covered skin lightly, gently squeezing it every time she felt him jump in place excitedly, or when he simply waved at the animals, whispering "hi" or "bye's".

God, how she loved him.

The camera, focused on Nick at the moment, captured the image of the two in the background, recording the cuteness of the couple, who seemed to be in candy land.

Y/N leaned into Matt's side from time to time, her pupils dilating as they ran over his excited, awe-like features. She sealed her lips over his cheeks and jaw every minute, whispering against his skin how much she loved him and adored seeing him that happy.

The girl also laid her head on Matt's right shoulder sometimes, squeezing her arm around him and pulling him closer - if that was even possible.

That only intensified Matt's happiness, who smiled so big that his eyes closed, shrugging his shoulders in shyness and enthusiasm.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

6th minute - Disgustingly cute:

Nick and Chris were in the living room as they spoke to the camera, explaining what they would do in that vlog, which would be posted next Wednesday.

Chris remembered that they had to call for Matt, commenting that the boy was still in his room and that they had been calling for him for over 20 minutes already.

Nick rolled his eyes, muttering something like "I don't know what I did to deserve this shit" in an ironic tone, walking quickly to Matt's bedroom door, turning the camera so that the lens captured the environment inside.

His free hand worked on turning the handle, pushing it quickly, hoping to give Matt a scare.

He just didn't expect to see Y/N still lying in bed - which left him confused, as he imagined that the girl would already be at the market, since there were some things that had run out on their house and she told him that she would get new ones while they were filming.

The girl was dressed in the clothes she would wear to go out, her makeup and hair done, and her face carrying a defeated expression. Meanwhile, Matt was lying on top of her, all of his weight against Y/N's body.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck, only the sight of curly brown hair apparent. His back rose and fell slowly, on the rhythm of his calm breath.

Matt's body was covered by the sweatshirt set he would be wearing for the video, and Nick quickly understood that they were ready for the day, Y/N about to leave, when Matt interrupted her for a lovey dovey session.

Y/N had her eyes closed and a smile resting on her face, seeming to dive into the moment. Her right hand was in Matt's hair, and her fingers threaded through his curls, massaging his scalp. While her left hand was on his back, traveling from his shoulders down to the small of his back, and back up again.

Every second, it was possible to see Matt moving his head slightly, and a sound of lips sealing against skin sounded throughout the room, making it clear that he was kissing Y/N's cheek or neck.

Whispers of "I love you" and sweet nothings were occasionally released from their lips.

"Matt, I'm going to fire you if you don't get up now and do your job." Nick's voice sounded like thunder between the four walls, scaring the couple.

Matt quickly sat down between Y/N's legs, turning towards the door with wide eyes, while Y/N opened her own eyes abruptly, her right hand flying to her chest, feeling her heart racing under her skin.

"You are crazy." Matt shook his head, moving to get up from the bed, casting a sad glance at Y/N, longing to return to her arms.

"And you guys are disgusting." Chris added, smiling roguishly, letting it know that it was a joke. "Y/N makes Matt a softie. She has him on a leash, I swear."

"Shut up, Chris."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

7th minute - Gamer boyfriend:

Y/N felt her shoulders heavy from the extremely busy day at work. All the tasks placed on her duty made her almost go completely insane, and all her body asked for was her bed and her boyfriend's arms.

So when she got home, the first thing she did was go up the stairs and enter her shared room with Matt, her movements almost robotic and automatic.

The sound of voices echoed low from one of the corners of the room, and Y/N quickly noticed that Matt was sitting in his gaming chair, his arms resting on the computer desk as he played one of his addictive games.

His eyes were fixed on his computer screen, his ears covered by the headphones from which the voices were coming from.

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling her heart warm by finally seeing her boyfriend. She quickly grabbed a set of the boy's sweatshirts and left the room, going to the bathroom, where she took a shower faster than usual - just wanting to be able to sleep as soon as possible - and got dressed.

As soon as the girl entered their bedroom again, she noticed Matt talking into the microphone of his headphones, and she quickly understood that he was streaming, probably with his brothers and on Twitch.

Y/N walked slowly towards her boyfriend, touching his right shoulder lightly, alerting him to her presence.

Without the two noticing, the chat went crazy from the moment the girl appeared in the frame. Miscellaneous comments about her or the two of them as a couple were sent so quickly that if Matt were watching them, he wouldn't be able to read any.

Matt lifted his head quickly, lowering the headphones so that it would hang around his neck, a big, bright smile appearing on his face as his pupils instantly dilated.

"Hi baby! I didn't notice you coming." The brunette's voice came out in a low tone, his eyes taking note of his girlfriend's tired expression and tense shoulders, his eyebrows almost automatically furrowing in concern.

"I arrived just now, I just came in to get some clothes so I could take a shower." Y/N whispered in response.

Matt smiled as he saw his own clothes covering his girl's body. The boy lifted his arms, encircling her waist and pulling her closer, sealing his lips lightly over her covered waist.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" The brunette asked, tilting his head back so he could see her face, ready to just turn off his streaming if she said yes.

"I do, but I want to be with you more." Y/N spoke, raising her right hand quickly, interrupting Matt before he could even consider stopping his streaming. "I don't want you to stop it... Can I just sit on your lap while you play?" Her tone was vulnerable, her tired eyes looking into Matt's expectantly.

"Of course, my love. Always." Matt quickly responded, nodding his head as he moved slightly away from the table with the help of the soles of his feet against the floor, opening his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to fit between them.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, positioning herself between his thighs before sitting on his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms hooking around his shoulders, getting comfortable.

She sealed her lips against his right cheek in a lingering kiss, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose, before laying her head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily and finally closing her eyes.

Matt kissed the top of her head for some seconds, arranging his headphones against his own ears again, giving a shy smile to the camera.

His right hand traveled to the mouse, pressing play on the game again, while his left hand caressed Y/N's back, helping her get into dream land.

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he watched the chat go as fast as he thought it be possible, keeping his focus on the game.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

8th minute - "Trying and guessing 21 different drinks":

The triplets were recording the video that would be posted that Wednesday, where they had to try 21 different drinks - some that they are used to drinking every day, others that they have never even tasted - and guess what which one was.

Y/N was participating in the video as a special guest. She had a feeling she would do poorly at the task, since she wasn't used to drinking anything other than Diet Coke.

Nick had decided to leave her for last, telling her to rearrange the positions of all the drinks in each of the boys' rounds.

Soon, it was her turn. She cast a quick glance at Matt, concern and nervousness present in her expressions. The brunette just returned it with a quick wink, waving his hand as if to say "you can go", waiting for her to leave the kitchen so he could rearrange the drinks.

Before calling her back, Matt surreptitiously took a photo of the position of the drinks, quickly putting away his phone, finally calling for his girlfriend.

Y/N returned to the kitchen with a tense smile, stopping in front of the table and behind the drinks, looking at the triplets, waiting for them to give the go-ahead.

Given the start, the girl bent down to take a sip of the first drink, her expression brightening and her eyes instantly widening as she tasted her favorite drink.

"Diet Coke!" She quickly said after rising from her slightly bent position, pulling out the paper with the image of the soda.

"Okay..." Chris muttered, nodding his head in confirmation. They knew she'd get that one right since her obsession with the drink was as strong as Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

The girl bent down again to take a sip of the second drink, momentarily catching her throat before she could swallow the liquid, the horrible taste flooding her mouth.

She stood up abruptly, swallowing the contents roughly, looking at the brothers with a frown, receiving laughter in response. The girl stopped in front of the images for a few seconds, internally analyzing which one it could be.

Her fingers worked on pushing away the images of the drinks she had already drank before and was sure that wasn't the horrible thing she had just drank, staring firmly at the ones that she didn't know.

When her finger went towards one of them, the image of Matt moving his arm around caught her attention. She looked up and saw her boyfriend behind his brothers, trying to get her attention.

Matt, realizing that she noticed him calling out to her, discreetly pointed to the right image with his free hand, his other hand occupied by his phone, which was displaying the photo he took of the correct order of the drinks minutes before.

Y/N smirked, dodging the path her hand was going, picking up the right image and placing it in front of the corresponding straw.

That cycle remained throughout the process. Chris and Nick were in shock, even thinking about the possibility that Y/N had some kind of superpower..

While Matt had a discreet smile on his face, biting his bottom lip to stop the laugh from escaping every time he saw his brothers reaction or the way his girlfriend smiled like a mad woman.

Upon finishing her round, the girl stood in front of the table with her arms crossed, a convinced expression taking over her features as she waited for Nick to confirm how many she got right, even though she already knew the result.

"Look, I don't know what kind of witchcraft you did, but you got everything right." Nick said, his face with an expression of annoyance.

An excited scream escaped Y/N's lips. She ran towards Matt, hugging him tightly while jumping in place.

Matt laughed at her reaction, pulling her closer, kissing the side of her head repeatedly, jumping with her.

"Ugh, I hate you guys."

© vanteguccir

[kxsagi]

i have a request if you may ^~^

reader having done it with the guys in their relationship for the first time, and when they start doing aftercare she s super confused like what is aftercare?? the boys realise she was never properly cared for afterwards and she thought that they were gonna leave like her past relationships. The guys explain to her and take care of her properly and reader feels loved and cared for for the first time ^.^ with isagi, shidou, rin and sae please !

also can i be 🩷 anon… i m always overflowing with ideas and *may* have sent you like 3 previous asks…

“𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭”

a/n: yes, you can be anon love 🩷

and yes the title is based off a lyric from 4EVER by clairo i love her music sm

lowkey writing this brought me so much comfort i wish men like this were real (keep your standards high)

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei

isagi yoichi

isagi is naturally a caring boyfriend, so after your first time together, he’s all about making sure you’re okay – grabbing you water, cuddling you close, whispering sweet words in your ear. 

but when you stiffen up and look at him like he’s doing something strange, he immediately catches on. 

"what’s wrong?" he asks, concern lacing his voice. 

you hesitate before admitting, "i just… didn’t think you’d still be here." 

his heart breaks. what do you mean you didn’t think he’d be here? why would he just leave after something so intimate? 

"baby, of course i’m still here. where else would i go?" he says, holding your face so gently it makes you want to cry. 

when you explain that past partners never stayed, never held you, never took care of you, he pulls you impossibly closer. 

"that’s not love, and i love you." 

he spends the rest of the night making sure you feel cherished – wrapping you in his arms, massaging your sore muscles, kissing your forehead. he’s so soft with you, and it’s the first time you’ve ever felt truly wanted beyond the act itself. 

itoshi rin

rin isn’t the most openly affectionate guy, but after your first time together, he insists on cleaning you up, pulling you into his chest, and whispering a quiet "you good?" 

you’re just laying there, unmoving, and he notices the way your body tenses. 

"what’s with that look?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"i just… didn’t think you’d stay." 

excuse him??? 

his entire face darkens as he processes what you just said. 

"what kind of assholes have you been with?" 

when you explain that no one’s ever done aftercare for you before, he literally scoffs. 

"so they just… left?" his voice is sharp, irritated, like he’s actually offended on your behalf. 

he doesn’t say much after that, but his actions speak louder than words – he presses you against him, arms wound tightly around your body, refusing to let you go. 

"get used to this," he mumbles against your skin, his tone softer now. "i’m not them. i’d never do that to you." 

for the first time, you believe it.

itoshi sae

sae isn’t big on words, but after your first time together, he immediately starts taking care of you. he runs a warm towel over your body, gets you some water, and even offers to get you food. 

but you just sit there, looking completely stunned. 

"what?" he asks, confused. 

you hesitate, voice quiet when you say, "i’ve never had someone do this for me before." 

cue the slow blink. he looks at you like you just spoke another language. 

"so they just fucked you and left?" 

he says it so bluntly that you almost feel embarrassed, but he’s not trying to make you feel bad – he’s genuinely shocked and maybe a little pissed. 

"that’s not how you treat someone you care about." 

pulls you into his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear, fingers threading through your hair in slow, soothing strokes. 

"i'm not going anywhere, got it?" his voice is softer now, but there's undeniable certainty in it. 

he refuses to let you feel like an afterthought. 

shidou ryusei

shidou is wild in bed, but aftercare is just as important to him. after your first time together, he’s all over you – peppering kisses on your skin, rubbing your back, murmuring sweet nothings. 

but then he notices how stiff you are. 

"babe, you good?" he asks, tilting his head. 

"i just… didn’t expect this." 

"expect what?" 

"i thought you'd leave." 

record scratch. 

"you what?" 

he pulls back, blinking at you like you just said the craziest thing in the world. then, his expression shifts. his usual cocky smirk replaced with something more serious.  

"who the fuck hurt you?" 

when you explain, he literally groans in frustration. "ugh, you’ve been with some real losers, huh?" 

shidou may be chaotic, but he’s not heartless. and he sure as hell isn't the type to leave someone he cares about like that. 

"you’re mine, yeah? you think i’d just hit it and quit it? nah, sweetheart. i take care of my girl." 

makes extra sure you feel loved – cuddles you so tight you can’t escape, runs his hands up and down your body, even feeds you snacks. 

"get comfy, baby. you’re stuck with me." 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[mostly-imagines]

answering a question nobody asked: what are jason's love languages ranked?

giving:

5 ) gift giving is bottom tier for him. i just dont see how he could value that more than any of the above because of the way he grew up. like material things and money seem like something he’d reject more than anything to me. but he does still give you presents, of course. he’ll buy you flowers randomly and jewelry and little things he’d noticed you admiring. but i dont think he really does it as a method of expressing his love for you so much as just like a little nice thing to do for you. its not his preferred method of communication, at least.

4 ) a little lower on the list comes words of affirmation because i don’t think it comes as naturally to him. he’s a man of few words and those chosen are caked in sarcasm and dry in a way that attempts to push people away, even if he doesn’t mean to. i just think his words can be rough around the edges even if his meaning isn’t. when he can work through it though, his words are very gentle and genuine. not one for hyperbole but really truly means what he says. he hears that you’re insecure about how a dress looks on you and he’s telling you to ‘shut up, you look good.’ or you’re nervous and he’ll say “you’re fine, don’t worry about it.” to someone else’s ears it might sound dismissive but you know that not how he means it. there’s a lot of unsaid words with him that are more significant than whats coming out of his mouth. like i said though, only like level 10 acquaintances and you will ever know him well enough to decipher those secret meanings.

3 ) he tends to treat himself like a loner, pulling away from people like second nature, but after he met you he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. he’s not the best with words or romantic gestures so quality time is an easier way of reminding you he loves you. he likes just sitting with you and letting you ramble about your day—listening to your voice is a big part of his calming down process every night. but sitting in comfortable silence with you is probably his favorite. he doesn’t get that with a lot of people. silence—sure; comfortable—not so much. he loves the implied intimacy and trust of quietly cooking, napping together, or doing your own things in the same space.

2 ) physical touch is another big one for him. only unlockable after entering a relationship with him. he does it for a lot of reasons, common ones include: as a reminder that he’s there, to ease anxiety (yours or his own), as a sort of fidget, or if he’s feeling a little possessive. its honestly going to shock his family how much he initiates touch with you. he’ll shove them off of him when they try to hug him and is likely to throw hands if they get too touchy. so when they meet you for the first time and he’s squeezing your hand in his the whole night, shoulder to shoulder with you—they’re surprised, to say the least. as time goes on they start to notice that he looks borderline uncomfortable when he’s not touching you—like he doesn’t know what to do with his body. his favorite ways to touch you (non sexually) include: keeping you pressed back to his chest, having your leg hooked atop his when you’re sitting hanging out, hand on the back of your neck, and hands on your hips are a must.

1 ) jason's prime method of communication is through acts of service. he fully believes it’s his responsibility to take care of you and doing things for you comes very naturally to him anyways. he’s known to refuse to let you carry things, let you have the comfortable chair, give you the last of his snack, that kind of thing. he also wants to make your life easier as much as possible—he’ll insist on you telling him about things you need, especially things you aren’t able to do yourself. you never ever have to hire a guy to come look at anything broken in your apartment, jason’s got that shit under wraps. he’d honestly be a little hurt if you did. he’s got a wide array of skills under his belt, he can fix leaky pipes, install locks, build furniture, repair cars, you name it.

receiving:

5 ) he always appreciates getting gifts from you but it’s not necessarily his preferred way of receiving your love. gift giving and acts of service are bottom tier because they’re the only ones that he feels like are taking away from you. costing you money or energy, wasting it on him—he doesn’t want you to do that. he can’t feel loved by the gesture when he’s busy concerning himself with the idea that he’s putting you out for it. when you do give him gifts he likes it most when they’re little things, especially things that you made. make him a friendship bracelet, a simple painting, a fucking paper crane—he’ll love it. with things like that, it makes him really happy to see how excited you are to show him and that’s when he feels the love from you.

4 ) it’s always a little hit or miss with acts of service. he has a hard time accepting help, especially from you. he tends to feel like its his job to take care of you and if you have to help him, he’s doing something wrong. the best way to perform acts of service for him is through littler things. cooking his favorite dinner, checking up on how his stitches are healing, covering him up when its cold and he’s too busy/stubborn to go get a blanket. don’t make a whole thing about it, just do it and he’ll notice and he’ll be thinking about it for a while.

3 ) for the same reasons as mentioned earlier, he loves quality time with you. he prefers being on the receiving end of it though because he is a little insecure and absolutely loves when you go out of your way to spend time with him. tell him you want to be around him, tell him you miss him, tell him you’re happy he’s here. warning: he might cry.

2 ) you’ll notice this one because his breath will literally hitch. physical touch is one of the most prominent methods of affection in your relationship and he never gets used to it. the presence of just your head on his shoulder or your hand in his provides such a noticeable release of tension for him. he’s a huge huge fan of you tracing patterns anywhere on his skin, playing with his hair, and wrapping your arms around his middle so you can hold him close. climb on his lap unexpectedly and his heart will skip a few beats.

1 ) he won't ever admit it, but words of affirmation are his absolute biggest weakness. your boy has a praise kink, but i also think it's difficult for him to accept that so you have to be subtle about it and work up. it gets him really blushy and if you can manage to get him talking, he’s stammering. he can’t hold eye contact for shit when you call him pretty and it’s very amusing to you to see such a quick and drastic shift in his disposition. things that have straight up put him out of commission include: calling him “my pretty boy,” or “sweet boy,” “you always take such good care of me,” “you’re so strong,” “you’re the love of my life.” “i’m proud of you” will literally put him on his knees.

[bratbby333]

Are you okay with writing more poly satosugu? Im obsessed

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ poly stsg: the prequel !

⋆｡˚ cw + tags: nsfw mdni. fem!reader. suggestive scenes/language, alcohol mentioned. super fluffy n cute n precious n beautiful. ₊✩ˎˊ˗ an: ask and you shall receive. this has been sitting in my drafts, half written, for nearly a year. you can find part one here ! i don't think anything will ever alleviate my stsg brain rot so of course im okay with writing more. i hope you enjoy some back story !! ⋆｡˚ word count: 5k. i got carried away once again. also not proofread. sry. ₊✩ˎˊ˗ banner fan art from twitter @/xtlusultx

ੈ♡˳ how it started...

Satoru and Suguru were already dating when you met them, though you all quickly became inseparable. 

Honestly? You were positive this whole thing was Suguru's idea. He’d been sitting with the weight of his feelings for a while. He knew what he felt for you, he recognized it, accepted it before anyone else did. So of course he brought it to Satoru first. Quietly. Carefully. Something like, “Hey, I think I might be in love with her too. What do we do with that?”

And Satoru? He probably took, what, four seconds to process it before going, “Oh?? Okay!!”

He was thrilled, honestly. The man had so much love in his body it practically leaked out of him. And sure, he knew Geto loved him deeply and endlessly, but he also knew he could be a little clingy sometimes (his words, not yours. At least he was self aware). So the idea of having two people to smother with affection instead of one? It was the easiest choice he could have made. He already adored you. He always had.

But even with both of them on the same page, so aligned it was almost scary, they were still nervous. Hesitant, even. Because it wasn’t just some new phase or thrill; it was you. Their best friend. The person who knew them too well, who made everything feel easy. The last thing they wanted was to risk that.

What if you didn’t want to change anything? What if it made things weird? What if they lost you?

But then Suguru noticed how you instinctually bounced between the two of them depending on what mood you were in; feeling silly and a bit unhinged, wanting nothing more than to lean into your unending curiosity and desire for adventure? Satoru was your man; the two of you were never not doing something; frequenting the city, shopping and snacking and chatting about everything, which inevitably led to y'all being at a random party across town just because you felt like it.

Not many people could hangout with Satoru for extended periods of time without getting annoyed, but it was like you and him were two halves of the same whole, well...aside from Geto, of course…the two of you complimented Satoru in different but fulfilling ways. You matched him, and Suguru balanced him. 

And if you were craving calmness and deep, intellectual chats filled with quick wit and the occasional dose of sarcasm, you’re hanging out with Suguru, your legs thrown over his thighs as he manspreads on the couch. His presence was just so comforting, and the two of you never ran out of things to say. He made you feel seen. He supported you unconditionally, all while dismissing the pressure to conform to anyone else's standards. Geto just wanted you to be you. 

The two of them harbored a safe space for each part of your personality, and when you were all together, there was an unspoken balance between you. The laughter was unending and it never once felt awkward or forced, even when you had first met them. It felt...natural. Like this was the reality that the three of you were meant to live. 

You started to notice your feelings for the both of them about three months into your friendship, but didn't want to overstep any boundaries or insert yourself into their relationship. Though it had been years now since you had first met the two of them, you still felt slightly ashamed for viewing your friends in a seemingly inappropriate way. You attempted to push those feelings away, but the longer this played out, the harder it was to ignore…

.⋅♡‧₊˚〰.

You were sat on the couch of their shared apartment, sipping on some wine, snacks littering the coffee table as some random movie faded into background noise. You found yourself tied up in harmless banter, going back and forth with Satoru over god knows what. It was rare for someone to entertain Gojo's ramblings, but you were fair game, loving the challenge of his stubbornness. Suguru was smiling admirably at the two of you from a loveseat to the left, and though he looked calm on the outside, his mind was racing; Is now the time? Should I ask? Should we do this? 

You excused yourself and went to the bathroom. But rather than actually using the toilet, you leaned over the sink, splashing cool water on your face and silently thanking the heavens that you could blame your intensely blushed face on the alcohol.

But you didn't even drink enough to have a buzz from the wine. It was them making you red in the face: How effortless it was to joke around with Satoru (while others viewed him as immature, you saw him as someone who's healing their inner child, and the two of you had similar senses of humor. It was so easy for him to make you laugh and vice versa). Not to mention how intently Suguru listened to you when you spoke...it was like he was trying to look through you, like he was holding on to every single word. And his emotional intelligence coupled with his unintentional siren eyes definitely didn't help your nerves.

And as comfortable as you felt around them, the deeper feelings you had were becoming unbearable.

But while you hid yourself away in the bathroom, the two guys were having a whispered meeting, psyching themselves up to finally ask you to join them: 

"Suguru...we've been putting this off for long enough. Tonight's the night," Satoru whispered. His eyes darted between his boyfriend and the hallway, on the lookout for you to reappear. His hand grasped Geto's as he rubbed gentle circles into his skin.

Suguru offered him a gentle squeeze in response, nodding his head as he chewed the inside of his cheek. "I know, I know...but who's gonna bring it up?" he asked softly. 

"Oh, definitely you," Satoru replied, almost like it was obvious, leaning back on the couch cushions.

Suguru narrowed his eyes at his white-haired counterpart, "So, no...we're doing this together, Satoru."

When you finally returned and sat back down, you could feel the tension that had settled between the three of you. It felt abnormal for the usual dynamic and your heart rate increased at the feeling.

Your eyes drifted nervously between the two men, "...is...everything okay?" you questioned, reaching for your wine and taking a much needed swig. You rolled the stem of the glass between your fingers as you awaited their response.

Suguru finally spoke up after sharing a look with Satoru, "Yeah, everything's fine," he smiled, "We just want to talk to you about something," he murmurs, shifting his weight in his seat before turning his body to face you.

His dark eyes and unwavering attention made your hands tremble slightly. Your gaze meandered toward Gojo, who occupied the space next to you, then back to Geto, before nodding slowly.

Satoru sat up a bit. "We've been thinking a lot about our friendship lately...about how close we've all become..." he trailed off and glanced at Geto.

"Yeah, it's rare to find this kind of connection with people. We trust you and care about you so much," Suguru added.

You looked between the two of them, your brows furrowed deeply. "Why does it feel like you two are getting a divorce and are about to ask me who I want to stay with..." you half-joked, taking another sip of your wine, "But in all seriousness, you two mean a lot to me. So, what's goin' on?" 

Gojo laughed at your comment before speaking up, "We've been talking about something for a while now, and we wanted to share it with you because it's important to us."

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. Panic bloomed, subtle but rapid, like the fizz in your half-finished wine glass. You were terrified they had caught on, had noticed the lingering glances, the way you always sat a little too close to Suguru when you were tired, the way your laugh came too easily around Satoru. You thought you’d been discreet.

One hand twirled the wine glass around in slow, absent circles, the other clenched tight, tucked beneath your thigh like you could keep your nerves from spilling out if you just held them in hard enough.

You glanced between them—Suguru sitting composed but visibly tense, and Gojo, still smiling, but with an undercurrent of seriousness in his eyes that made your stomach twist. You nodded once, just barely. You weren't sure if you were giving them permission to keep talking or trying to brace yourself for whatever came next.

A deep breath broke the silence—Geto’s. His voice was low, steady, but you could hear the effort it took to speak so plainly. "We love each other deeply, and we've also realized how much we care about you," he said, shifting again like he couldn’t quite get comfortable with the weight of what he was about to say.

"We’ve been considering the idea of opening our relationship to include you, if that’s something you’d be interested in."

You blinked. And then blinked again. You took another sip, as if the wine was the reason this conversation seemed real. But it was real, and this was actually happening. 

The words didn’t register at first, not really. You stared at him like you’d misheard, like if you just kept looking long enough, he’d laugh and say he was joking. Your breath caught in your throat and you nearly choked on it, coughing once before covering your mouth like that would hide the shock painting your face.

Your ears were ringing, the edges of your vision buzzing, like the room itself had tilted. But beneath the static, there was this creeping warmth. It was an overwhelming, radiant kind of relief that made your fingers tremble. They weren’t uncomfortable with your feelings. They knew, and they wanted you.

And then, just as quickly, the shock gave way to a strange kind of disbelief, like you’d stepped into a dream, one too good to be real. Your mind spiraled with thoughts, too fast to catch: Are they serious? What does this mean? How long have they been thinking about this?

You’d wanted them for so damn long. In different ways, at different times, but it had always felt hopeless. Forbidden, even. A deep, lingering sense of guilt followed you around for mentally inserting yourself into their relationship. It was like wanting the sun and the moon but the gravitational pull from both kept you...stuck. And now they were sitting across from you, calm and honest, asking if you wanted them back.

Your chest was tight with emotion. You could barely find your voice. You looked between them again, your mouth slightly open, like you might say something, anything, but all that came out was a quiet, “You’re serious?”

Satoru grinned, soft and real. “Dead serious, sweetheart.”

Suguru nodded. There was something rare and vulnerable in his gaze that made your heart twist. “Only if you want to. There’s no pressure. But we had to ask.”

You felt like crying. Or laughing. Maybe both, simultaneously. Because somewhere deep down, part of you had wanted this for so long, and now that it was real, you almost didn’t know how to hold it.

"...Really? So…so, how would that work?" Your body was putting in overtime to keep your voice level, but in reality, you were elated. And as Suguru started to lay everything out, you began to feel more and more on board with the whole scenario. 

"We understand if it's not for you. But we wanted to be honest about our feelings and see if you might feel the same way," Geto concluded, his eyes searching yours for any sign of apprehension.

"I appreciate you both being so open about this..." Your voice trailed off as you looked at Suguru, then to Satoru, and back again. You were deep in thought as you weighed your options. It was one thing to daydream about a relationship like that, but it was a whole different ballpark when actually attempting it. 

Gojo spoke up once more, "Above all else, we want to make sure this is something you're comfortable with...a relationship where the three of us are equally involved and supportive of each other."

"Communication is going to be key. We want you to feel comfortable expressing any thoughts or concerns along the way," Suguru added. 

Silence fell as you pondered the offer presented to you. you smiled at the two of them before speaking up, "I'd love to give it a try. You are both important to me and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it before." 

As the words of affirmation left your lips, you were immediately tackled into the couch by your overjoyed, blue-eyed (boy)friend, encompassed in a body-crushing bear hug. Geto quickly joined the two of you on the couch, placing a gentle peck to both you and Satoru's cheek. 

This marked the start of a flourishing relationship, just you and your boys against the world, a beautiful dynamic operating with a deep sense of mutual respect, love, and open communication.

ੈ♡˳ how it's going...

The minute the three of you decided to give polyamory a try, the world felt like it shifted on its axis, a wave of normalcy washing over all of you. The dynamic was perfect, and you always caught yourself wondering why this didn't happen sooner. 

It didn’t feel unnatural or complicated like you’d feared. If anything, it was the opposite. A strange and beautiful wave of normalcy settled over the three of you. Like you had just remembered something you were never supposed to forget.

The dynamic fell into place effortlessly. Suguru, as always, was the grounding force—calm, intentional, fiercely attentive. He took on the role of caretaker with ease, though he'd never say it out loud. It wasn’t in the dramatic gestures, but in the way he placed a hand on your back when you looked overwhelmed, or quietly handed Satoru a bottle of water when he’d clearly forgotten to drink anything all day. He made sure you both ate when your schedules got chaotic, that you went to bed instead of overextending yourselves. He didn’t nag—he guided, steady and warm.

Suguru had always carried a kind of weight in his presence, but now that weight felt like protection instead of distance. You and Satoru gave his life color, purpose—and in return, he anchored you both without ever demanding anything back. But of course, you gave it anyway. In quiet gestures, in lazy mornings spent curled together in bed, in the way you learned to read the tiniest flickers of expression on his face and respond to them before he even asked.

Satoru… well, not much had changed on the surface. He was still loud, still playful, still the first to suggest impulsive ideas like midnight ice cream runs or building a blanket fort just because. But there was a softness to him now, a depth that had always been there but now showed itself more readily. He teased, flirted, joked—but he was also the first to notice when you were feeling distant, the first to ask, “Are you okay?” with a hand over yours and a rare kind of quiet in his voice.

He was touch-starved in the way only someone who gives so much could be, and now that you were his, he made no effort to hide how much he loved being loved. You caught him staring all the time—at you, at Suguru—like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. Sometimes he’d just sigh and press his forehead to your shoulder and mumble something like, “This is the best timeline,” and then pretend it hadn’t happened at all.

Despite the deep feelings and the complicated history, what surprised you most was how easy it all felt. How often you found yourself laughing. How domestic it became without even trying.

Suguru was surprisingly touchy when no one was looking. You’d be brushing your teeth, and he’d wander in to tuck your hair behind your ear like it was nothing. Or he’d rest his chin on your shoulder while you were making tea, arms snaking around your waist, quiet and content. His love language was care disguised as routine—always making sure your phone was charged, that you took your meds, that Satoru didn’t eat cake for breakfast (again). And the best part? He never needed thanks. He just looked at you like, of course I’ll take care of you. You’re mine.

Satoru, on the other hand, was as dramatic and extra as ever, but now he had two people to dote on—and be doted on by. He’d wear matching socks with you and pretend it was a coincidence. He’d climb into bed with you and Suguru and sigh like the day had personally attacked him, only to melt into your arms five seconds later. You once caught him trying to braid Suguru’s hair while he was half-asleep, and instead of stopping him, Suguru just sighed and let him keep going, eyes closed, face soft.

.⋅♡‧₊˚〰.

It was a lazy morning—one of those rare days where no one had anywhere to be and the sun was barely creeping through the blinds. You stirred awake to the sound of quiet humming, familiar and slightly off-key, and the sensation of something warm and heavy draped across your waist.

Satoru.

His hair was a fluffy mess, pillow-creased and wild, his blindfold bunched up like a headband around his forehead. He was curled half on top of you, long limbs tangled like a human octopus, one arm flung across your stomach, one leg hooked over yours. He was still humming, barely conscious, but so deeply relaxed it was like he’d melted.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled against your shoulder, voice thick with sleep.

You tried to stretch, but he clung to you like you were his emotional support body pillow. “You’re heavy,” you grumbled, affection softening the complaint.

“Mm, no I’m not. You’re just dramatic.” He nuzzled further into your neck, lips brushing your skin in a way that made your heart stutter.

“Do you ever wake up like a normal person?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the 'p' like it was the proudest thing he’d ever said.

You ran your fingers through his messy hair, and he actually purred. Like, audibly. It was so ridiculous you laughed, but he just sighed like your touch was the cure to every problem in the world.

“You spoil me,” he said softly, quieter now, like the teasing had melted into something real. “You know that, right?”

You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “You spoil yourself, Satoru.”

“Yeah, but you do it better,” he replied without missing a beat. “You make it feel like… I deserve it.”

That stilled you. Because under the teasing, under the ego, you knew that was something he struggled with—that weight he carried behind the blindfold and bravado.

You shifted, just enough to wrap your arms around him, tucking his head beneath your chin. “You do deserve it. Every bit of it.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just exhaled slowly, fingers curling against your side like he was anchoring himself to the moment. And then, muffled into your skin:

“You’re my favorite.”

You rolled your eyes, affectionately. “You say that to everyone.”

“Nope.” He lifted his head to grin at you, impossibly soft and just a little smug. “Just you. Don’t tell Suguru.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek anyway. “Too late. He already knows.”

Satoru sighed dramatically, burying his face in your neck again. “Damn. Guess I’ll just have to make you love me more today.”

And he would. In all the stupid little ways only he could pull off—bad jokes over breakfast, kissing your forehead like it was a compulsion, wrapping you in his arms like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

Because when it was just the two of you, Satoru Gojo was less god and more boy—clumsy in his affection, shameless in his need, and so, so easy to love.

.⋅♡‧₊˚〰.

It was late. The apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that settles over everything like a blanket—soft, still, safe. Satoru had passed out on the couch hours ago, limbs everywhere, one sock missing (again). You and Suguru had tiptoed away, not to be sneaky, just… because it felt like the right time for a quieter moment. A private one.

You were sitting on the floor of his room, your back against the side of the bed, a record playing low in the background. Suguru sat beside you, legs stretched out, one hand resting between the two of you, pinky just barely brushing yours.

He hadn’t said much yet, but that wasn’t unusual. Suguru didn’t need words to fill the space. He was the space—solid and grounding, always tuned in even when he was silent.

You turned your head to look at him, and he was already watching you. Not staring—watching. The way he always did. Like you were something worth observing carefully.

“What?” you asked softly, smiling a little.

He didn’t smile back—not because he wasn’t happy, but because he was in that kind of mood. The soft one. The vulnerable one. The Suguru one.

“You look peaceful,” he said simply. “I like seeing you like this.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked away, but not for long. Suguru didn’t say things for effect. If he gave you a compliment, it was because he meant it. Entirely. It always landed different—like he wasn’t just noticing your beauty, he was recognizing it. Respecting it.

“You make it easy to be peaceful,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.

He shifted, just slightly, so he could wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side. “I want to.”

“You do.”

Silence fell again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that made your chest ache in the best way. The kind that said I don’t have to talk to be with you. After a while, he spoke again, voice low, words slow and careful like always. “Sometimes I think about how this almost didn’t happen. You and me. Us. All of it.”

Your stomach fluttered. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I think about all the time we wasted pretending we didn’t want more.”

You turned slightly to look at him, and this time he looked away, the smallest flicker of self-consciousness crossing his face.

“I used to watch you laugh with Satoru,” he continued, “and I’d wonder what it would be like… to be close to you like that. To make you smile that way.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“I didn’t think I deserved it back then,” he said softly, eyes still fixed ahead. “But you make me feel like maybe I do now.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, grounding him for once.

“You do,” you said. “You always did.”

He finally looked at you, and this time, he smiled—small, soft, heartbreakingly genuine.

Then, wordlessly, he leaned in and kissed you. Not like Satoru’s kisses—quick and playful and endless. No, this was a Suguru kiss. Intentional. Slow. Like he was pouring every unspoken thought into it. Like he was giving you something sacred. Because he was.

And when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, “You’re my peace.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, your heart aching in the best way.

“And you’re mine,” you said.

Suguru gave devotion like it was breathing. He didn’t just love—he chose you, over and over, with every glance, every touch, every quiet act of care.

.⋅♡‧₊˚〰.

One on one, they were everything you had imagined them to be. But when they both decided to show you just how much they loved you at the same time? It was like being caught in the middle of a one-sided competition where you won every time.

It started with something small. A bad day. You came home quiet, not upset, just… low. Drained. And of course, they noticed. Satoru noticed in the way your eyes didn’t crinkle when you smiled. Suguru noticed in the way you sighed a little too often.

And that was all it took. You were suddenly the battlefield for a very soft war.

Suguru made your favorite dinner without asking, and you didn’t even realize he’d gone out to buy the ingredients. It was already plated when you got out of the shower, still warm, waiting on the coffee table with a fresh pair of fluffy socks he must’ve pulled from the back of your drawer. It was precisely what you needed, even though you didn’t know how to ask. They just knew. Little was said at dinner, but nothing really needed to be said. 

Suguru gently ushered you to the couch. Then Satoru came into the room with a blanket and immediately sat on your lap. “Your turn to be the little spoon,” he declared, even though the size difference made it slightly ridiculous. He tucked the blanket around both of you and kissed your forehead like he was sealing in warmth.

Suguru sat beside you, arm draped along the back of the couch, fingertips brushing your shoulder, his voice low as he asked how your day went. No pressure, no expectations, no fixing. Just listening. Satoru, meanwhile, made little dramatic gasps every time you said something mildly annoying that happened. “They said what to you?? Prison. Life sentence. I’ll teleport there now.”

And it kept going. Suguru offered to braid your hair. Satoru tried to unbraid it just so he could “fix it.” Suguru rolled his eyes and took over again, whispering soft things about how pretty you looked even when you were tired. Satoru kept interrupting with kisses to your temple and shoulder, mumbling, “Yeah, and you smell good too. So unfair.”

At one point, you made a sound halfway between a laugh and a whimper. “You guys are literally overwhelming me with affection right now.”

They both paused. Then Suguru smiled, “Good.” And Satoru chimed in with, “You deserve to be worshipped. Let us live.”

After that, they teamed up. You were tucked between them on the couch—Suguru rubbing slow, grounding circles into your back while Satoru played with your fingers like he was counting each one. They talked around you, but every word was for your benefit.

“You think she knows how good she is?” “Mm. Not nearly enough.” “Well, that’s criminal.” “Agreed.”

You couldn’t even respond anymore. Your heart was too full. Your face hurt from smiling. And still, they didn’t stop. Because to them, loving you wasn’t a competition, but a privilege they both happened to share. And god, they were so good at it.

.⋅♡‧₊˚〰.

There were little things, too. The mundane kind that somehow became sacred. Suguru read with his head in your lap while Satoru scrolled through his phone, occasionally reaching up to boop your nose. Satoru stealing your chapstick and dramatically applying it like he was doing runway makeup, you walking into the kitchen to find the two of them dancing like idiots to a song on the radio, laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

It wasn’t always glamorous, but it was always yours. And in between the chaos and the teasing and the deep emotional undercurrents, there was this unshakable sense of joy. Of having finally found your people. The ones who made the world quieter, softer. Who made even the bad days feel survivable—sometimes with a forehead kiss, sometimes with a warm meal, sometimes with a joke so bad you had to physically throw a pillow at Satoru just to make it stop.

You loved them. You really, really loved them.

And they loved you back with the kind of love that felt like sunshine on skin, like home.

.⋅♡‧₊˚〰.

Of course, the intimacy deepened in every way. The friendship you’d all built didn’t disappear. It just bloomed, unfurled into something deeper, richer. And with it came the parts you’d never experienced before, not like this. The touches lingered longer, the kisses grew softer or rougher depending on the night, and the tension that had once been so unspoken became a language all its own.

The sexual aspect of it all… that was the most unfamiliar territory at first. Not difficult, but definitely an adjustment. It was one thing to imagine it, to dream about what it might be like. But reality, real vulnerability, was a different beast. It wasn’t just about desire. It was about trust. About learning new rhythms, exploring each other’s boundaries, needs, wants.

It would probably start in private moments, organically—Maybe you and Suguru share a vulnerable night, talking until the conversation softens into touches, confessions, something deeper. He’d be intentional, focused on making you feel safe and understood. It wouldn’t be rushed. If anything, it was incredibly slow, deliberate. He'd check in constantly, not just with words, but with his gaze, his hands, his presence. He’d ensure that you had his full attention in the way his fingers would trace along your skin, the way his big hands would hold you, ground you, his voice low when he whispered praise into ear; “There you go…just relax, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle. You’re doing so good.”  

And then, a few days or weeks later, it happens with Satoru. His energy was different—playful, disarming, but no less attentive. He would make you laugh right before kissing you breathless, help ease your nerves by being a bit ridiculous, a bit indulgent. He’d worship you in his own way, probably talk the entire time unless you shut him up with a kiss or sat yourself down on his face. Oh, that sweet tongue of his. But under the teasing, he’d be just as tender as Suguru, even if he hid it behind charm.

The first few times all together were careful, only a little awkward, full of whispered check-ins and shy laughter. But they were also electric, intimate in ways you hadn’t even known were possible. Suguru, intense and patient, knew how to read the room, how to guide without being overwhelmed. Satoru, unfiltered and affectionate, knew how to turn nerves into giggles, how to make even the most hesitant moments feel joyful and full of love.

Eventually, it became second nature, like everything else between the three of you.

You found yourself lying in bed with them, tangled in warmth and limbs, wondering why it had taken so long to get here. Why you’d ever thought being “just friends” was enough. Because now you knew what enough really felt like.

And it was this. 

an: this literally healed a part of me and i feel so full of love. also ik this one wasnt smutty, but don't you worry. i have a nashtyyy one comin soon. and, i started working on a stsg CHAPTERED story. omg. im really diving back in head fuckin' first. ik i said i was working on a dark choso series and a dead dove sukuna series but the subject matter is super heavy so im putting a pause on those for the foreseeable future xx

© bratbby333. all rights reserved. please do not distribute.

[mitsde123]

How to Choose the Right Machine Learning Course for Your Career

As the demand for machine learning professionals continues to surge, choosing the right machine learning course has become crucial for anyone looking to build a successful career in this field. With countless options available, from free online courses to intensive boot camps and advanced degrees, making the right choice can be overwhelming. 

[kurogira]

ALL THE SMALL ETERNITIES I NEVER NAMED

NEW NOTIF FROM ╭ BLUE LOCK ╮┆ ブルーロック

all works are a property of ꒰ @kurogira ꒱ do not copy, translate, redistribute or feed my works into ai. template by cafekitsune.

the way they love is written not in words, but in the way their lips find yours. rough, patient, clumsy, reverent. every kiss is a different language. what is theirs like?

ⓘ 3.2k wc 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 no gender specified, slightly suggestive, semi-character studies, first time writing for bllk, no dialogue, written by someone who has no knowledge of kisses ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

interested in seeing more? check out my bllk masterlist.

you want something different? no worries, click here.

ITOSHI RIN ┆ 糸師 凛 ﹕KISSES LIKE HE’S AFRAID TO WANT, TO NEED, TO FEEL.

Rin kisses like he’s afraid to want — hesitant, clumsy, and achingly gentle. Every touch lingers a bit too long, every breath gets caught between restraint and longing — like he’s still learning how to love without shattering everything you’ve already built together.

Restraint is muscle memory to him. Despite how much he wants you to lean in, to lose himself without regrets, his hands hover against your cheek — his fingertips ghosting the side of your face. Your gaze shifts from his eyes to his lips, to his twitching fingers, back to his eyes again. He suddenly moves closer, his breath fanning against your lips — just another inch. A few centimeters more.

His spontaneous move made you realize how affected he truly was by your presence. His fingers brushed against yours, though this time — it was you that clasped his palm into yours. You felt him cupping your cheek, his ears practically burning as he processed the position you were in. It almost earned a chuckle out of you, almost.

As if to encourage him, you gentle press your tips against his temple — earning the small fortune of his breath catching. The sensation was better than anything you’ve ever known, tearing apart his defenses with just your lips — that slowly trailed to his eyelid. A smallest touch made the biggest difference, his cheeks emitting a beautiful vibrant hue. The second he opened his eyes, there you were again — kissing his nose as if it were the easiest thing in the world. As if it was your purpose in life, to fluster him senseless until he finally gave in and stopped resisting temptation.

But Rin was that akin to a lost traveler, requiring the presence of a star to illuminate the correct path. To him, you were his saving grace — removing his hardened scales to reveal a fragile body. If he were a bloodthirsty dragon, you were the royal that accepted him for all that he was — a tool for some, a disgrace for others, but to you . . . he was a troubled soul that you grew to adore with your entire being.

He’d scowl, frown, scoff, bitterly laugh, but with you? His hands trembled at the fleeting touches you gave. The tips of his ears burned with embarrassment, and he was at a loss for words.

Another kiss to the corner of his mouth, your thumb gently tracing his jawline. His eyes asked a question, one you were more than happy to answer. “Can I come closer?”

Your smile gave the answer he’s been seeking all this time, “Of course you can.”

And when he finally kisses you — hesitant, trembling, incredibly soft — it feels less like possession and more like permission, the kind he’s been yearning for all this time. Like he’s asking, without words, to stay right here a little longer. To be yours, just like this, for as long as he can.

And maybe that’s what loving Rin Itoshi will always be — not fireworks or grand confessions, but a quiet, patient unfolding. The slow undoing of a boy who never knew love until you gave it to him.

(He loved you like dusk loves dawn, he always will.)

ISAGI YOICHI ┆ 潔 世一 ﹕KISSES LIKE HE WANTS TO MAKE YOU FEEL LOVED, FOR ALL THAT YOU ARE.

Isagi kisses like someone who wants to make you feel loved. It’s natural, warm, and overflowing with sincerity. He kisses you like he’s caught up in the moment, as if it were just you two existing in a bubble that is separated from the rest of the world. There’s no hesitation in him once he knows you’re his, only quiet confidence and soft-spoken devotion.

Every kiss is a promise: “I’m here. I’m yours. I’m happy. This is where I want to be, with you.”

Where Rin kisses like he’s afraid to want — Isagi kisses like he’s grateful to have you.

Isagi chases your lips as if they were a goal, he puts his entire soul into the objective — not stopping until he’s scored. Only this time, there was no team to forge the path for him — just him, and you — the one who has captured his heart and soul with just a glance. How accomplished you were, to have him at his knees with a softened gaze and a smile. A knight he was, ready to serve under your command for as long as you’d like.

He craves the feeling of your lips on his, even after a few pecks — nothing seems to satisfy his hunger. He years, he needs, but he’s not messy about it. He’s not reckless or irrational. Kisses were a mutual practice. He’s intentional. Focused. As if memorizing the giggles you let out as his lips found yours, the soft sighs, the way you taste — all of it intrigued him so much. His hands would linger on your arms, or even reach your waist — holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He holds you like you’re the only source of strength he has.

You’re the glue that keeps him in one piece, the hand that extends to him whenever he feels hopeless, the lantern that balances all the darkened hues with its light. To him, you were the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him.

At one point, perhaps you would’ve guessed that you were both running in opposite directions. But now, it seemed that you were chasing the same dream, despite living different lives. You were more interconnected than you realized. Being with him felt like a dance in a garden, a sweet memory that you desperately wished would remain eternal.

You were the promise he wished, no, vowed himself to keep. He’d prove it to you, no matter what it took. For you were the binding rope that held him together.

His kisses were long, yet sweet. A constant reminder that you were so loved, if not by anyone else — then by him. If you were to ever cup his jaw, his hands would tighten around your arm or waist — showing just how affected such an intimate action made him. He’d bury his head in the crook of your neck, if you were ever in need of it — his hand would gently rub your back. If you were to require a softer touch, he would reach out to hold your hands in his.

Every move he made was a promise: “I’m always going to be by your side.”

And sometimes — when he pulls away entirely — he stares in reverence. Starry-eyed. Like you are the greatest thing he’s ever scored in his life.

If Rin kisses like restraint and longing, Isagi kisses like devotion and joy. Like this is where he feels most alive.

(He loves you like breath loves lungs — instinctively, without hesitation, with every part of who he is.)

MIKAGE REO ┆ 御影 玲王﹕KISSES LIKE HE WANTS TO SPOIL YOU WITH INTENTION.

Reo kisses like he wants to spoil you, not just in the materialistic sense — he spoils with intention. His kisses feel like silk gloves over your skin, velvet-lined with adoration, threaded through with teasing just to see you smile. He kisses like someone who knows he can have whatever he wants, without question.

He’s a slow kisser — savoring every moment — as if tasting something rare and expensive. His kisses start off as playful, earning the sweetest giggles he’s ever heard from you. It was a prize in itself, and he was tempted to push further — to earn something more worthwhile. Without his smug little smirk when your mouths met, you’d even go as far as to question his very identity. The second you were to cup his cheek or wrap your arms around his neck, he’s quick to melt like putty in your hands.

He loves touching you. That went without question, though it was less because of impatience and more so because he needs you close. He needs to feel the warmth of your body, to know that you’re truly there with him in that moment. His greatest fear was that your presence was a mere illusion, one that he conjured in order to soothe his inner pains. His hold is tight, not suffocatingly so — but enough to make you aware of how fast his heart beats whenever you’re close. He found it almost pathetic, the way he softly sighed whenever you cupped his cheek or kissed his jawline.

He kisses you like someone who could give you the entire world — and he truly does wish to. If only you’d find it in you to command him of such, it’d be in your hands in seconds. But all that you required was his time, his attention, his love — and he was more than willing to hand it over to you without a second thought. He’d be your servant, if it meant that he could be yours forever. A noble willing to step down to kiss the ground you walked on, that was how Mikage Reo loved.

Reo kisses like luxury. The kind of love that wraps you in silk sheets and whispers: “Why would I want anything else, when I already have you?”

He was content as he was. With you on his arm, he was ready to face the challenges of everyday life. For so long, he’d felt trapped in a maze — unable to find an exit. All along, his objective was never the shiny exit sign — glimmering tauntingly. It was you, regardless of how many times he’s walked the same path only to find a dead end, it was more bearable when you were right by his side.

He treasured every moment as if it were a piece of gold. Every goodnight kiss that was full of your clumsiness due to fatigue, the times where you’d press your lips on his shoulder to comfort him, the kisses that came from an immense amount of joy, and the kisses that came from an endless sorrow that haunted you both. He loved them all, the same way he loved you.

MICHAEL KAISER ┆ ミヒャエル・カイザー﹕KISSES LIKE SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO BE LOVED.

Kaiser kisses as if he were the king himself. He kisses like someone who knows he’s desirable — arrogant, deliberate, but absolutely intoxicating. He expects you to lose yourself in him, and naturally proves why you should. If Reo spoils you like luxury, Kaiser commands your attention like royalty. The crown was always his to hold, it was simply a matter of “when?”

His kisses are possessive, not necessarily rough or aggressive — but controlled. He exudes confidences and wields it like a weapon. There’s always a teasing lilt to the way his lips brush against yours, like he’s testing how much you’ll chase him if he pulls away for just a second too long.

Kaiser kisses like he’s playing a game — but you’re his favorite prize.

He likes to corner you, thumb tilting your chin up with that signature smirk of his, knowing full well you’ll meet him halfway — because how could you not? Is there any way you could possibly resist the allure of his face? How utterly ridiculous, a thought like that shouldn’t even cross your mind. And when you do — when you give in — he kisses like he’s claiming territory. A kiss for a king, a being of higher power. Not rushed. Not desperate. But with the kind of certainty that tells you he knows you’re his.

When the chess piece is in your hands, and you decide to make the first move — he absolutely adores it. Oh, it ruins him in the best way. For all of his bravado, for all of the sharp edges of his personality, the face he likes to maintain in front of the peasants, it crumbles. His smug expression remains, but in the moment? His body aches with craving. He prefers when you’re completely wrapped in his web, with no escape in sight. He adores the fact that you want him enough to reach for him first.

Kaiser kisses like sin dressed in silk, like gold-laced temptation. Every brush of his lips whispers, “Look at me. Only me. Let me show you what it means to belong to me.” in a way that has you desperately to decipher his true intentions.

Michael Kaiser was a man full of showmanship and kingly pride.

(He was more than self-aware, he embraced this corruption as if it were the way he was created.)

But Kaiser was more than a man beyond saving, he was a man that yearned for someone’s heart to accept him wholly — and yours did just that. In a room completely isolated from the rest of the castle, his kisses would soften. No mind-games, no second-guessing his intentions, it was raw affection — and it belonged to the one who held his soul so gently in their hands. You.

At the end of the day, Michael Kaiser kisses like someone who wants to be loved — deeply, completely — even if he doesn’t always know how to ask for such a thing.

(His heart beats only for you, didn’t you know?)

TABITO KARASU ┆ 烏 旅人﹕KISSES LIKE TROUBLE, LIKE THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM.

Karasu kisses with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, playful and daring, like he acknowledges that he’s getting under your skin and revels in every second of it. He’s naturally a tease, the type to ghost his mouth over yours, murmuring something that makes your heart skip a beat before sealing the distance.

His kisses are lazy, they have an almost cocky-rhythm to them. Unhurried, like he’s planning on dragging this on just to watch you squirm — to see the change in your expressions when you eventually separate from him to catch your breath. He relishes in the way your finger grazes your bottom lip, knowing you enjoyed every second of it. If you come back for more, he’s more than willing to oblige.

Fingers slipping beneath your chin, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth as if committing you to memory. He’s not possessive the way Kaiser is — Karasu doesn’t need to control you. He invites you to lose yourself in him. Challenges you to keep up. You take the challenge with grace, planning on leaving him in the dust where he belongs — the kind of energy he finds alluring. It was all that you emitted, much to his pleasure.

His kisses were the kind to bring you a different kind of euphoria, despite how much of it you’ve already had — you always come back for seconds. Sometimes even desperately pleading for another, only for him to smother your face with him. He loves having his hands on your hips, being able to control how close or how far you were from him was a curse in disguise. He loves your pouts, your comments of defiance, the roll of your eyes and the twitch of your lips.

Beyond the scope of playful mannerisms and games, his kisses tell you more than one thing. The clearest message of them all, was that Karasu adores you more than you think. Using that fact to your advantage later on shouldn’t be much of an issue, after all — he was the one that exposed himself to such a degree. What was he expecting?

And maybe he pulls away with a lopsided smirk and some cheeky comment that makes you swat at him as if he were the most annoying pest you’ve ever come across — but if you catch him off guard? If you kiss him first? Oh, he’s done for. Grin faltering just for a second, heart stuttering in his chest — he becomes less of a challenge and more of a distraction. He’s a huge sucker for you, and he never fails to demonstrate it with the way his lips find every sensitive spot on your face just to get a reaction out of you.

Indulging Karasu’s antics was practically apart of your job description, your payment? The smack of his lips against your cheek — earned by tolerating his whims. It was something you’ve gotten used to, to the point where you couldn’t ever imagine yourself without him being right next to you. He kisses like a flirt that accidentally fell hard, enough so that he never wants to get back up unless it was you lifting him with your bare hands.

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, light bullying

part 2

gn reader

Just thinking about how Alpha Beta Omega classes were always the worst. How the teacher would speak about an Alpha's strength and charisma, a Beta's sense of loyalty, and, of course, all of an Omega's weaknesses. 

It didn’t help that you were the only Omega in school. It also didn’t help that your class featured the only Alpha in school too.

All your life, it’s been a myriad of bullying. Katsuki would be at the helm, all the Betas behind him, eagerly following his every move – then you – trod over in the process. 

“You’re an Omega. You know that means you’re stupid, right?” He’d laugh – his canines gleaming in his grin.

“And weak – Katsuki, don’t forget weak!” His friends would add, hyping him up – making his smile ever sharper.

“Yeah! – stupid, weak, slow, and tiny.” You’d be pushed to the dirt, shadowed by his form, gleaming with pride, blocking out the sun. “Heh- sounds like something that belongs beneath a boot.”

All those classes, all those lessons. It’s not really the teacher’s fault. She’d tried using the most unbiased language she could. She’d only been stating facts – but still… couldn’t they have waited until all of you were a little older to tell everyone all the reasons you were different from them?

Granted. The lessons progressed into different territory when you got older. Talking about pheromones and instincts and mating and breeding – how Omega’s fall prey to something called ruts and heats – and how vulnerable they are when they’re caught in it. 

You were burning with embarrassment in your seat – feeling feverish from the toll of it – knowing how all this new information was going to be like fuel to fire – how Katsuki was going to use it for all it was worth.

You dared glance over at him – sitting by the window – he had an elbow propped on the desk and his head resting in the palm it supported. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention – his face turned away, looking outside instead. You couldn’t tell whether he was listening. You hoped he wasn’t.

But if you’d looked extra close, you’d see the beat red blush on his ear and cheeks.

To your pleasant surprise, Bakugou didn't approach you at all after that. You thought for sure he’d mock you, but it seemed that maybe… he’d grown out of it, perhaps? Either way, you were happy to think he’d forgotten all about you.

If only you knew he was on a mission to ignore you. You hadn’t noticed, too humiliated by the things being said about the nature of Omegas to have listened to what the teacher said about Alphas – and all their strange possessive habits – their need to mark their mate with bites and scent and-

He shuddered.

It’s a complete surprise. He can’t believe all these years he’s wanted you like that. But ever since you were kids, he’s been imprinting on you – chasing you, biting you, coveting you. It’s so embarrassing he can’t believe it. Is this really the reason you piss him off so much?

He knows it is – now; that one look at you has him blushing and his pants tight in the crotch. Fuck – do you even know? Have you known all along?

No… you’re acting like nothing’s amiss. Chatting up extras with an oblivious smile on your face – acting like you don’t belong to him.

How’s he going to keep you in check when you’re going to different schools by next term? How’s he gonna keep others away from you? Shit- what if there are other alphas at the school you’re going to? What if-

Fuck! His chest is pounding so hard and fast it hurts. He’s going to lose you…

You’re trembling – on the verge of tears – when he drags you off behind the school on graduation day.

His face was in his normal scowl.

He hasn’t bothered you all year – why, what-

“You’re gonna wear this at your new school, or you’re not gonna go.” He mutters – his fist shoving a ball of black fabric into your stomach – not hard, but enough to make you flinch. “Don’t wash it. Bring it back to me, and I’ll give you a new one.”

Your brows furrow.

“Every week. Or else I’ll hunt you down.”

He takes a step closer – you yelp as your back hits the wall, then whimper when his nose brushes along your hairline – his breaths hot.

“This’ll let every extra know you already belong to me.”

When he walks away, back in a slouch and hands shoved down his pant pockets – you unravel the mess of black in your hands – revealing a skull-print plastered on a large hoodie.

It smells like Kachan.

part 2

[ankababy]

A Home

Part 2

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

After winning another game, you found two boys. Unconscious, bleeding, and kind of pretty too. Anyways, you were an angel, so you took them in, and now, they’re waking up in your fancy apartment.

(Not roasted Niragi, this is an era between the two boys being executives at the beach and Arisu arriving, no actual romance just Niragi making moves to have fun, english NOT my first language)

The first thing Niragi registered when he regained consciousness was the feeling of something soft. Too soft. His brain, still foggy from unconsciousness, automatically assumed one of two things:

1. He was dead.

2. He was dreaming about being rich.

But when he blinked and his vision cleared, revealing a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a suspiciously clean marble floor, he realized something much more unsettling.

He wasn't fucking dead.

This was worse.

He groaned, shifting, and that's when he felt it—pain. A dull, aching pain everywhere. His body had been through some shit, and moving made him immediately regret waking up.

That's when he heard it.

A voice.

Calm. Unfazed. Judgmental.

"So you survived. Unfortunate."

Niragi's head snapped to the side. And of course. Of course. The first thing he had to see after surviving whatever fuck had happened was the one fucking guy he hated more than anyone else.

Chishiya.

That smug bastard was sitting up on the couch opposite him, looking as bored as ever, one arm draped over the backrest like he was on vacation. His expression was unreadable, but Niragi knew that if he had died, this dude would've been the first to loot his body.

"Wow." Niragi croaked, voice hoarse. "You're still alive? That's what's unfortunate.”

Chishiya didn't even flinch. He just tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning Niragi like he was trying to calculate how much blood loss it would take to kill him. "Tragic, isn't it?"

"Deeply."

Before Niragi could force himself up and punch him, something shifted in the room. A presence. A sweet one.

"Good morning! You're finally awake!"

Both of them turned their heads.

There, standing in front of them, was you.

And holy shit.

You looked like you didn't belong in this world. At all. Too clean. Too soft. Too... nice. Like some angelic creature that had somehow survived this thing with sheer kindness and, possibly, black magic.

Chishiya stared at you with interest, already analyzing. Niragi, on the other hand, openly squinted.

"What the fuck?"

You smiled warmly. "Oh, I found you two unconscious and bleeding out, so I took you in and patched you up!"

Silence.

"You did what?" Niragi snapped. "Why the fuck would you do that?!"

Your expression didn't change. "Because you were dying."

"And?" Niragi looked deeply offended. "That's how things work. People die. It's the natural order of—"

Chishiya cut in. "What he's trying to say is that you wasted your time."

You blinked. "You think saving you was a waste of time?"

Chishiya gave a small, indifferent nod. "Correct."

Niragi scoffed, trying to push himself up, only to immediately regret it as pain shot through his body. "Ow, fuck—"

"You really shouldn't be moving that much yet." you said, stepping forward instinctively, only for Niragi to flinch like you were about to stab him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Niragi barked, pointing a shaky finger at you. "Back up, Care Bear. I don't trust this."

Chishiya exhaled, unimpressed. "Obviously. If you trusted this, you'd be dumber than you already are."

"Shut the fuck up, bitch."

You clasped your hands together, watching them. "So... you two know each other?”

Both of them immediately turned to you and spoke at the same time.

"No." (Niragi.)

"Unfortunately." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Giggled. Niragi stared at you like you were an alien, while Chishiya simply observed.

"Well, I'm Y/N." you introduced yourself, smiling brightly. "And you're currently in my home! Don't worry, I don't expect you to do anything in return. Just rest up until you're better."

Niragi, still processing, slow-blinked. "Okay. Yeah. Cool. But—why the fuck do you have such a fancy-ass apartment?"

You beamed. "Oh, I just found it! No one was left, so I took it!"

"...That's kind of fucked up."

You tilted your head innocently. "Would you rather I left it empty?"

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Stared at you. "Okay, you're too calm. This is weird. You're weird."

Chishiya hummed. "Agreed. People like you don't exist anymore."

You simply shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. You two looked like you needed help, so I helped."

Silence.

Then Niragi scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay, but I'm still not thanking you."

Chishiya leaned back, smirking slightly. "Obviously. You have no manners."

Niragi shot him a glare. "Neither do you, dickhead."

"Incorrect. I have excellent manners. I just choose not to use them."

You giggled again, and it was honestly disturbing. Niragi wasn't used to this—actual warmth. It made his skin crawl. He eyed you like you might secretly be a serial killer.

Chishiya, meanwhile, just looked at you thoughtfully. "So. What happens now?"

You smiled. "Well, now you both get to heal up in peace! And maybe eat something."

Niragi's eye twitched. "This is a trap."

Chishiya nodded slightly. "I second that. This is suspicious."

You pouted. "You think I saved your lives just to poison you?"

"Yes." both of them said at the same time.

You laughed. "You two are funny."

"No." Chishiya corrected. "He's just loud."

Niragi turned to him, jaw dropping. "Oh my god, do you ever shut up?"

Chishiya tilted his head. "No."

You just smiled sweetly. "Well, at least you have each other!"

Both of them physically recoiled at that.

"Fuck no." (Niragi.)

"Don't say that again." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Again. It was terrifying.

"So," you chirped, tilting your head slightly. "What are your names?"

Niragi and Chishiya both went silent.

Chishiya, to be fair, had already been silent—watching, listening, assessing—but Niragi? He was actively avoiding answering. You could see it in his face, the way his lips pursed slightly, the tiny furrow in his brow. He didn't like giving out information. Neither of them did.

But you? You were patient.

Chishiya, as expected, was the first to break the silence. "Chishiya."

You nodded, smiling warmly. "Chishiya." you repeated. "That's a nice name."

Chishiya hummed noncommittally, watching you. It was strange—his expression was almost completely blank, but you could feel his thoughts running at high speed, analyzing, picking apart everything you said.

That was fine. You were used to it.

Then you turned to Niragi expectantly.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you wanna know?"

You blinked. "Because I saved your life?"

"Tch." He looked away, muttering, "It's Niragi."

You smiled, pretending you didn't hear the hostility in his tone. "Nice to meet you, Niragi."

Niragi made a face, shifting uncomfortably. "You're really too nice.”

Chishiya let out a quiet chuckle, like Niragi being irritated was mildly entertaining. "Not used to kindness?"

Niragi shot him a glare. "No, actually. I'm allergic."

"Ah." Chishiya nodded in mock understanding. "That explains the rash on your personality."

Your eyes flicked between them, amused. "Do you two always talk to each other like this?"

"Yes." (Chishiya.)

"No, usually it's worse." (Niragi.)

You giggled. Niragi visibly shuddered. "Stop doing that."

"What?"

"That creepy little giggle. You sound like a horror movie.

"That's just how I laugh!"

"Yeah, well, laugh worse."

Chishiya leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're deflecting."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You smiled, unbothered. "So... how long have you two known each other?”

Chishiya barely reacted. Niragi, on the other hand, let out an exaggerated groan. "Too fucking long."

"Not long enough," Chishiya muttered. "considering you're still alive."

You just watched them bicker, your head tilted slightly in curiosity.

Chishiya was fascinating.

The way he spoke, the way he moved—there was control in everything he did. He gave just enough to keep the conversation going but not enough to actually reveal anything. You recognized it immediately.

You had worked with people like him before.

People who knew they were smart. Who didn't trust easily. Who lived in their heads more than in the real world. Who stayed five steps ahead, always.

You also knew that someone like him? He wasn't just naturally like this.

Something had made him this way.

You turned to Niragi next. And, oh.

It didn't take a trained professional to see that Niragi had shit going on.

But you were a trained professional.

And holy shit.

He was wound so tight. Every move was a defense mechanism—every word, every glance, every breath dripping with aggression. His hostility wasn't random; it was habitual. Built over years of... something.

You didn't need to know the details to know that he had been hurt before. Badly. Which was exactly why he was acting like this now.

Still, you didn't press. Not yet.

Instead, you just said, "You two seem... different."

Niragi scoffed. "No shit."

Chishiya's gaze flicked to you. "What gave it away?"

You shrugged playfully. "Just a hunch."

Niragi let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back into the couch. "So, what, you used to be a detective or something?"

You smiled sweetly. "A therapist, actually."

Silence.

"No." Niragi immediately sat up, despite the pain. "I'm out."

Chishiya's lips quirked in mild interest. "That makes sense."

You blinked at Niragi, concerned. "You shouldn't be moving so much yet—"

"No. No. I refuse to be psychoanalyzed."

"I wasn't going to psychoanalyze you." you said, smiling. "I mean, unless you want me to?"

Niragi looked at you like you had just suggested murder. "Absolutely fucking not."

Chishiya, meanwhile, was still staring at you. Thinking. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

A therapist.

That was new.

That meant you weren't just naive. You weren't just blindly nice.

You understood people.

Which meant you understood him.

And that? That was more dangerous than any gun.

You just smiled. "Well, don't worry. You're safe here. I won't make you talk about anything you don't want to."

Niragi narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. "For real?"

"For real."

"...Fine." He relaxed slightly, though he still looked deeply untrusting.

Chishiya, on the other hand, was watching you even more intently now.

"You're not what I expected." he admitted.

You tilted your head. "What did you expect?"

"Someone either stupid or desperate."

You laughed softly. "Well, I'm neither."

Chishiya's lips quirked again. "Clearly."

Niragi groaned. "Oh my god, don't start liking her."

Chishiya barely reacted. "I don't like anyone."

"That's what I'm saying!" Niragi waved a hand at you. "She's too nice. It's suspicious."

You just smiled. "I guess you'll have to deal with it."

Niragi muttered something under his breath, slumping back down. Chishiya simply watched you a little longer before finally closing his eyes, as if filing everything away for later.

You knew this was just the beginning.

But you weren't worried.

You had time.

Niragi was staring at the ceiling. Chishiya, ever the picture of nonchalance, had his eyes half-closed, looking as if he was two seconds away from slipping into a coma—not because he was exhausted, but because reality itself bored him.

"Are you two hungry?" you asked sweetly.

Nothing.

No reaction.

Not even a blink.

Chishiya didn't look at you, didn't acknowledge the question, didn't do anything besides continue breathing. Niragi, on the other hand, did react—just in the most Niragi way possible.

He scoffed. Loudly. Dramatically. As if you had just asked him whether he wanted to start a gratitude journal.

"You think we trust you enough to eat something you made?" he sneered.

You blinked. "Yes."

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Squinted at you. "You say that like it's obvious."

"It is obvious." You stood up, stretching slightly. "You need to eat to recover. So, I'm making you food."

Still, no reaction. Neither of them moved. Neither of them agreed or refused.

Fine. That was fine. You weren't expecting a "thank you" or a grand speech of appreciation. You could tell exactly what they were doing—creating distance, keeping their guard up, making sure they didn't owe you anything.

You understood. Really, you did.

But that wasn't going to stop you. So, without another word, you walked toward the connected kitchen.

Immediately, Niragi's voice followed you. "Wait, you're actually cooking?"

"Yes."

"What the fuck?"

You didn't respond, already moving to the stove. The pot on the burner was already filled—leftover soup you had started earlier, still warm. You reached for a spoon, stirring gently, the scent filling the air instantly.

Chishiya didn't move or react, but Niragi? His head tilted the tiniest bit, like he was trying not to be obvious about sniffing the air.

You had to suppress a giggle.

They weren't going to ask for food. Oh, no. That would be too easy. They were too stubborn for that. Which was why you weren't going to wait for permission.

You kept stirring, the rich aroma of the soup spreading. It had been a while since you'd made something decent—soup was simple, easy, comforting. You weren't sure what these two had been eating before you found them half-dead, but judging by how they looked under all the blood and bruises, it wasn't much.

From the couch, Niragi groaned loudly, flopping dramatically onto his side. "This is so fucking weird."

"What is?" you asked, not turning around.

"This." He waved a hand vaguely in the air. "You. Cooking. This whole 'let's take care of the random half-dead guys I found' bullshit."

You hummed. "Would you rather I had left you there?"

"Yes!"

A beat of silence.

Then Chishiya: "No, he wouldn't have."

Niragi snapped his head toward him. "Shut the fuck up."

Chishiya didn't even look at him. "You're still here, aren't you?”

"I can leave anytime I want." Niragi shot back.

Chishiya finally turned his head slightly, expression unreadable. "Then why haven't you?"

Niragi froze.

You hid a smile, still focused on the soup. That was interesting.

Chishiya wasn't just observant—he was ruthless about it. He had no problem pointing things out that other people would avoid saying out loud.

You liked that.

Meanwhile, Niragi—having zero rebuttal—just let out another frustrated groan and dropped back against the couch. "God, I hate you."

"Likewise."

They both hated each other. And yet... neither of them had moved.

You smiled to yourself.

You gave the soup another gentle stir before ladling it into bowls. The warmth of it curled through your fingers, and as you turned around, you caught them.

Both of them.

Niragi and Chishiya.

Trying so hard to look uninterested.

They didn't move. Didn't react. But their eyes flickered—just barely—to the steaming bowls in your hands.

You knew they were hungry. Obviously. Their bodies were recovering, their wounds were fresh, and it had probably been days since they'd eaten properly.

But they weren't going to say anything. Because admitting that they needed something? Admitting that they relied on someone else?

That was too much.

You smiled sweetly. And completely ignored their bullshit. You walked up to the small coffee table in front of them, placing the bowls down with a gentle clink.

"Eat." you said simply.

Silence.

Chishiya stared at the soup, then at you, his expression blank but his mind obviously racing.

Niragi? He just glared.

"I never said I wanted it." he muttered.

You just smiled. "I know."

More silence.

The soup smelled amazing. You could tell, because Niragi kept sniffing the air without realizing he was doing it. Then he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm just gonna eat it because you put it in front of me?"

"Yes."

His eye twitched. "You're so fucking weird."

"I've been called worse."

Then, with a dramatic, suffering sigh, Niragi grabbed the bowl.

Victory.

Chishiya? He didn't reach for his immediately. Instead, he just... watched.

Watched you.

Watched Niragi.

Watched everything.

And then, after a long, slow moment, he finally—casually, effortlessly—picked up the bowl and took a small sip. He didn't react. But you noticed the way his fingers curled slightly more securely around the ceramic.

He liked it.

He just wasn't going to say it.

That was fine.

You weren't expecting thanks. You weren't expecting gratitude.

All you wanted was for them to eat.

And now? They were.

You smiled to yourself and returned to the kitchen, humming softly as you cleaned up. Behind you, on the couch, Niragi grumbled under his breath, still half-muttering insults at Chishiya between bites.

Chishiya didn't respond. He was too busy finishing his soup.

By the time you were done cleaning up the kitchen, the two of them had nearly finished their soup.

Which, really, was hilarious considering how Niragi had dramatically refused the idea of eating anything made by you just minutes ago. And yet, there he was, scowling at the spoon in his hand

Chishiya, on the other hand, had barely made a sound as he ate. No complaints, no praise, just silent, efficient consumption like he was running off of pure logic.

Food = survival. No need to make a fuss about it.

You approached them again with your usual warm smile, hands clasped together.

"So," you chirped. "since you're both fed and alive, this place has plenty of bedrooms. You don't have to keep sitting on the couch all night."

Chishiya barely reacted.

Niragi, however, snorted. "Oh, do we not?"

"You don't." you confirmed sweetly. "I can show you some, or you can just go find one yourself if you're that fed up with me."

Chishiya's lips twitched at that. Just the faintest smirk. He liked the way you phrased that—the fact that you knew exactly how they were acting and didn't even take offense to it.

Niragi just clicked his tongue, leaning back on the couch. "Tch. Like hell I trust any of the bedrooms in this creepy rich-ass place."

You tilted your head, amused. "You trust the couch more?"

"I trust myself more.”

"You're literally injured."

"I'd rather sleep in a ditch than get comfortable here."

You shrugged. "Okay, the door is open too."

Niragi stared at you. "Are you actually kicking me out?"

"No." you giggled, "I'm just giving you options! You seem like the kind of guy who doesn't like being told what to do."

Niragi made a face. "Oh, fuck off."

Chishiya finally stretched his legs slightly, glancingat you. "How many rooms?"

"Enough."

Chishiya's eyes flicked up to the ceiling, as if calculating the space. His mind was always working—always analyzing. You could practically see the gears turning.

"Five." he guessed.

You beamed. "Close. Six."

"Hm."

Chishiya's gaze flicked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

A house this big? With this many rooms? Still fully intact?

It wasn't just luck. There was a reason you had secured a place like this. Chishiya was too smart to ignore that.

Niragi groaned. "Whatever. I call the biggest room."

You smiled, hands on your hips. "You'll have to find it first."

Niragi's eyes narrowed. "...Is that a challenge?"

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. "You don't even have the energy to stand."

"Shut up." Niragi grumbled, but didn't actually get up.

You laughed softly. "The rooms are all clean, and they even have actual beds. Fresh blankets, too."

Niragi rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're really selling this, huh?"

You smiled, unbothered. "I'm just being nice."

"Too nice." Niragi crossed his arms. "What's your deal?"

Your smile softened slightly, but you didn't answer right away.

Instead, you tilted your head and asked, "Do you think people only do things when they want something in return?"

Niragi hesitated. Which, really, said everything.

You just smiled. "You should go rest. Both of you. Your bodies need it."

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, standing up first. "I'll find one myself."

You nodded. "Go ahead."

He didn't move immediately. He just stood there for a moment, looking at you—not suspiciously, not threateningly, just... observing. Then, finally, he turned and disappeared down the hall.

Niragi groaned again, shifting to lay down on the couch. "I'll move later." he muttered.

You just smiled. "Okay."

And with that, you walked away, leaving them to their own devices. Because at the end of the day? You weren't forcing them to do anything.

You were just offering something they weren't used to.

A choice.

A home.

~

You knew exactly which rooms they had chosen.

It was easy.

You'd left all the doors open on purpose. So when two of them inevitably ended up closed—well. That told you everything you needed to know.

One belonged to Niragi.

One belonged to Chishiya.

And since you weren't in the mood for an argument right now, you decided to check on Chishiya first.

So, with a soft knock, you pushed the door open.

Chishiya was there, as expected, sitting on the edge of the bed. His posture was relaxed, but not lazy. A picture of calm, but never vulnerable.

His eyes flicked to you immediately when you entered. Always alert. Always watching.

You smiled. "Hey."

He didn't say anything—just gave you a slow, expectant look, like he was already calculating the reason for your visit.

You stepped further in, crossing your arms lightly. "I wanted to let you know that the shower works."

Chishiya raised a brow. He didn't look surprised, per se—just mildly intrigued, like he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

You continued, ever sweet, ever patient. "I set up a system with rainwater, and I got a boiler working with solar energy. You can take a hot shower if you want."

A pause.

Then, finally, he spoke. "You built that yourself?"

You grinned. "Impressed?"

Chishiya's lips curled just slightly. "Not quite."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Right. Because nothing impresses you."

His smirk widened a fraction. He wasn't denying it.

You sighed dramatically, shifting your weight onto one foot. "Anyway, just be careful. The system's pretty stable, but I still don't trust it completely. So don't do anything stupid and end up flooding the place."

Chishiya tilted his head, as if amused by the idea. "I'll try to contain myself."

"Please do." you said, voice sickly sweet. Then, without missing a beat, you added, "Oh, and—"

You smiled. Soft. Kind.

Too kind.

Fake kind.

"—don't even try anything. My door's closed."

Chishiya blinked.

Because you weren't just sweet.

You weren't just kind.

You were smart.

You knew exactly the kind of person he was.

And you planned accordingly.

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, the closest thing to a chuckle you'd heard from him yet. He leaned back slightly, resting his arms against the bed, studying you.

"You think I'd try something?" he mused, tone light, teasing.

"I think you're smarter than that." you replied easily.

A beat.

Then Chishiya's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Interesting."

You simply gave him one last sweet, angelic smile before turning toward the door. "Goodnight, Chishiya."

And with that, you left.

The door clicked shut behind you, and as you walked down the hall, you knew—knew without even needing to see—that Chishiya was still smiling to himself.

You were a smart girl.

And he liked that.

When you arrived there, you took a deep breath before knocking on the other door that was closed.

You knocked twice. A beat of silence, then—

A loud, dramatic groan from the other side.

"What now?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open.

And there he was—Niragi, in all his irritating glory, sprawled across the bed. One arm behind his head, shirt half-ridden up, legs spread out just enough to be annoying.

He squinted at you lazily. "Oh, it's you."

"Of course it's me."

He groaned again, rolling onto his side in the most dramatic way possible. "What do you want? I'm tryna sleep here."

You crossed your arms. "I came to tell you the shower works."

That got his attention.

Niragi blinked. "Wait. What?"

"I have rainwater stored, and I managed to get a boiler running with solar energy." You tilted your head. "You can take a shower. A hot one."

Niragi stared at you like you had just told him the sky was made of gold. Then, suddenly, he sat up—grinning, wild and sharp, like a fucking hyena.

"Oh, shit." he snickered, running a hand through his now let out hair. "You mean I don't have to smell like blood anymore?"

You sighed. "I mean, it's up to you."

He stretched his arms, cracking his neck. "Damn, maybe you really are an angel. Here I thought you just liked keeping dirty, injured men in your house for fun."

You gave him an unimpressed look. "Yes, Niragi. That's exactly what I do in my free time."

He grinned. "If you wanted me in your bed, babe, you could've just said so."

You sighed again, rubbing your temple. "That is not what I said."

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "I mean, I get it. Who wouldn't wanna sleep next to me? I'm warm, I smell good—"

"You literally just said you smell like blood."

Niragi ignored that. "—and I'd keep you safe all night."

You raised a brow. "You can't even stand up properly."

He grinned wider. "That just means I'd have to let you do all the work."

You leaned against the doorframe, tilting your head slightly, eyes glittering with something playful. "That's so cute. You think you'd survive me?"

His grin froze.

Just for a second.

Then, he laughed. Loud. Unfiltered. Amused as hell. He licked his teeth, watching you with way too much interest. "You like playing hard to get, huh?"

You shrugged. "You like losing?"

That hit.

That hit hard.

Because for the first time, Niragi actually shut up. Just for a second. Just enough for you to know that you had won.

"...Fuck." he muttered, almost to himself. "You're fun."

"I know." you said sweetly. "Now go take a shower before I change my mind."

You turned to leave—but of course, Niragi couldn't let you go without one last word.

"Hey, babe?"

You paused in the doorway, looking back.

He smirked. "Your door open, or closed?"

You grinned.

"Locked."

And with that, you walked away—leaving Niragi sitting there, grinning like an idiot.

~

You knew something was wrong the second you stepped into the hallway the next morning.

The air felt off.

It wasn’t a sound—because they weren’t making any. It wasn’t even an instinct, though you had plenty of that.

It was just that deep, unshakable feeling you got when you walked into a room and realized you were one second away from witnessing homicide.

And that’s exactly what was happening.

You turned the corner into the kitchen and—yep. There they were.

Chishiya and Niragi.

Standing there, dead silent, staring each other down like two wolves deciding whether they wanted to rip each other’s throats out before breakfast.

Niragi moved first.

Not towards you. Towards Chishiya.

One sharp, sudden step—his whole body tensed like he was about to fucking lunge, like he was about to do something stupid.

And Chishiya? Didn’t move an inch. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Just stood there, perfectly still, perfectly calm, eyes half-lidded like he was already five steps ahead of this entire situation.

Which, knowing Chishiya? He was.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You cleared your throat. Loudly.

Both of them turned to look at you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are we committing murder before or after breakfast?”

Niragi snorted. “That depends. You making anything good?”

You sighed, stepping into the kitchen like you weren’t walking into a fucking crime scene. “Depends.” you said, moving past them to grab some supplies. “Are you two gonna be civil, or am I cooking while dodging bullets?”

“Can’t make promises.” Niragi muttered, side-eyeing Chishiya.

Chishiya, for his part, said nothing. Just shifted slightly, tilting his head, gaze dissecting.

Watching Niragi. Watching you.

You exhaled through your nose. Of course.

They weren’t going to make this easy. That was fine. You didn’t expect them to.

Instead of scolding them, instead of trying to force anything, you did what you did best.

You read the room.

Because here’s the thing—people like Niragi? They didn’t start fights for no reason. Not really. He didn’t wake up thinking, hm, who should I try to kill today?

No—he woke up looking for control.

And Chishiya? Chishiya didn’t wake up looking for a fight. But he sure as hell wasn’t backing down from one, either.

So this wasn’t just aggression.

This was posturing. This was two men who hated each other testing the limits of the space they now shared.

Which meant there was only one thing you needed to do. You needed to give them something else to focus on.

So you got to work. And most importantly? You talked.

Not to them, really. Just enough to keep them engaged without forcing them to cooperate.

“So,” you hummed, cracking an egg into the pan. “how’d you two even end up in that mess I found you in?”

Silence.

Niragi scoffed. “That mess?” He snorted. “Try a fucking bloodbath.”

You hummed. “Right, yeah, I noticed that part.”

Chishiya finally spoke. “Tch. Not surprising.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go—”

“I’m just saying,” Chishiya mused. “it’s not like you’re particularly good at self-preservation.”

“Fuck off, rat.”

You sighed. “Okay, so still not cooperative.”

Niragi gave you a shit-eating grin. “Aww, babe, don’t take it personally.”

You shot him a look. “I don’t. I just think it’s hilarious that you two can’t even answer a simple question without fighting.”

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’re not fighting.”

Niragi grinned. “Yeah, baby, this is just how we talk.”

“Oh, so this is bonding, then?” you deadpanned.

Niragi shrugged. “Something like that.”

You just shook your head, flipping the eggs.

It didn’t matter. They were calming down. They were still distant, still purposefully difficult, but that was fine.

You weren’t trying to fix them.

You were just making breakfast.

And in a world that had taken so much from them, that was probably the best thing you could do.

You let the conversation die out for a bit, focusing on not burning the eggs while the two grown, violent men in your kitchen continued their silent pissing contest.

They weren’t trying to kill each other anymore, but you could feel the tension, the way Niragi kept throwing sideways glances at Chishiya, and the way Chishiya pointedly ignored him like he wasn’t even worth the energy.

God, you were babysitting.

And yet.

And yet.

You liked them.

Not in a wow, what great, emotionally well-adjusted people kind of way.

More like a wow, these are the worst fucking people I’ve ever met and yet I kind of want to keep them alive kind of way.

Which was dangerous. So dangerous.

But you never did have much self-preservation.

So you tried again.

You flipped the eggs onto a plate, moving to grab some bread, and—casually, like you weren’t expecting much—asked: “So. You still didn’t answer my question.”

Chishiya hummed, eyes lidded, uninterested.

Niragi, on the other hand, sighed so loudly it was like you had just asked him to recite the entire history of the universe.

“What fucking question?” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “How you two ended up bleeding out in an alley.”

Silence.

Not the murderous kind of silence, at least.

Just hesitation.

Which meant you had them.

You pressed. Gently.

“I mean, was it a fight? Did you get jumped? Were you two just being dumbasses?”

Niragi scoffed. “The last one.”

Chishiya sighed. “Obviously.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You fought back a grin. “Okay, so what happened?”

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaning against the counter. “Tch. Got caught up in some shit.”

You hummed. “What kind of shit?”

Niragi grinned, sharp, mean. “The fun kind.”

Chishiya sighed. “The kind that almost got him killed.”

“The fun kind.” Niragi repeated.

You blinked. “You have a very different definition of fun than I do.”

He laughed. “What, you don’t like a little bloodshed?”

“I don’t like dying.” you said simply.

Chishiya gave you a slow, approving look. “Smart girl.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Guess we just ran into the wrong people at the wrong time. Shit happens.”

You tilted your head, thoughtful. “Shit does happen.” You turned, handing them plates of food. “How many days do you have?”

This was a test.

A subtle one.

If they lied, you’d know. If they refused to answer, you’d know.

Because you were a therapist.

You knew people

And right now, you knew that Niragi was stalling. Clicking his tongue, leaning back, making a big show of thinking about it.

“Hmmm.” he hummed, exaggerated. “Why do you wanna know, angel? Wanna trade?”

You smiled, too sweet. “No, but I would like to know if you’re about to drop dead in my house.”

Niragi laughed. Loud, sharp, amused as hell.

Chishiya, on the other hand, watched you. Studied you. Then, finally, he spoke “Seven.”

Your eyes flicked to him.

And there it was.

Honesty. Cold, simple, factual honesty.

Chishiya had seven days.

You looked at Niragi expectantly.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. Five.”

You clicked your tongue. “You should be more careful.”

Niragi snorted. “What, you worried about me, sweetheart?”

You shrugged, turning back to your own food. “I just don’t wanna clean up a corpse in my living room.”

Chishiya huffed out a quiet laugh. Niragi grinned.

You let the conversation settle after that.

They weren’t cooperative. Not really.

They didn’t trust you. Not completely.

But they answered you.

And that was enough.

For now.

Because you had a plan.

Because right now, in your apartment, you had two wild animals sitting at your table.

One too smart for his own good.

The other too reckless for anyone’s good.

And you were about to leave both of them unsupervised. On purpose. Because you knew exactly what you were doing.

You grabbed your bag, casually tossing a few supplies inside—knife, flashlight, extra cloth, some food. Nothing crazy. It wasn’t going to be a long trip. At least, it shouldn’t be.

Niragi was watching you.

Not subtly.

At first, he just glanced. Quick, uninterested, shoving food into his mouth like a fucking caveman.

But when you grabbed your coat?

When you slung your bag over your shoulder?

That’s when he actually looked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh… babe?”

You hummed, fixing the strap. “What?”

“Why the fuck are you getting ready like you’re about to head out?”

You blinked at him. “Because I am?”

Silence.

“The fuck do you mean you are?”

Across from him, Chishiya didn’t react much. He just tilted his head slightly, observing. Like he was just as curious, but not as dumb as Niragi, so he wasn’t about to react like a fucking child.

Niragi, however, had no such restraint.

He squinted at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You sighed. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“To find some supplies.”

He scoffed. “Tch. You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re seriously leaving me and—” He gestured vaguely to Chishiya. “this asshole alone in your house?”

Chishiya blinked slowly. “You’re a child.”

“And you’re a rat.” Niragi turned back to you. “Seriously, you’re leaving?”

“Yes, Niragi.” You threw some light, pretty pink clothing around your shoulders. “I need to go out. I need supplies. I need—” You waved vaguely at the door. “shit.”

He scoffed again. “Tch. What kind of shit?”

You shrugged. “Just things. Food. Bandages. Stuff to keep you two from dying.”

Chishiya hummed. “How responsible.”

“Right?” you quipped. “I should get an award.”

Niragi wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t mad, but he wasn’t happy either. Because despite the smug, cocky, overconfident asshole persona—there was something else.

Not concern, no. That wasn’t his style.

More like… uncertainty.

Like he didn’t like the idea of you going out there alone. Not because he cared. No, no, that’s ridiculous.

(At least, he’d tell himself that.)

But because in his fucked-up, messy, unhinged brain—

He didn’t trust the world.

And the idea of you walking out there, all soft and sweet and not a complete fucking psycho like him, probably didn’t sit right with him.

Which is why he leaned back in his chair, sucking his teeth.

“Fine.” he muttered. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You blinked.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

“The fuck is so funny?” he snapped.

You shook your head, still grinning. “You can barely fucking walk, Niragi.”

He bristled. “The fuck I can’t.”

You tilted your head. “Oh, yeah? Stand up.”

His eyes narrowed.

Chishiya actually smirked, sipping his tea. “This will be fun.”

Niragi ignored him. Instead, he grumbled, planted his hands on the table, and pushed himself up—only to sway immediately.

Yeah. That’s what you thought.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Go on.”

He glared. “I just need a second.”

“Uh-huh.”

Chishiya chuckled.

“You two are both fucking awful.” Niragi muttered, lowering himself back into the chair.

You smiled. Sweet. Almost mocking. “But I’m right.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

You exhaled, adjusting your bag. “I won’t be long.”

Niragi muttered something under his breath, and you almost asked what—but you let it go.

Instead, you turned to Chishiya. He was still watching. Quiet. Unreadable. Like he was picking you apart in his head.

You stared back. After a moment, you spoke.

“You gonna be okay here?”

He blinked once. “I should be asking you that.”

You smirked. “You don’t have to.”

His eyes glittered.

Just a little.

He didn’t say anything else.

You turned back to Niragi. “Try not to kill each other before I get back.”

“No promises.” Niragi muttered.

You sighed. Yeah, you figured.

Then, without another word, you grabbed your coat, pushed open the door, and stepped out, leaving them alone.

And you knew exactly what you were doing.

~

You had fully prepared yourself for the worst when you returned.

Maybe bloodstains on your fancy-ass couch. Maybe the kitchen completely destroyed. Maybe—just maybe—one of them lying dead in the hallway while the other stood over him. But, to your genuine surprise, the house was still standing.

And even more surprising?

So were both of them.

Chishiya was sitting at the kitchen counter, flipping through a book he absolutely did not own before today.

And Niragi—who you fully expected to have done something violent or reckless in your absence—was sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging over the side, his whole body screaming bored as hell but refusing to admit he waited for you to come back.

They were separated, obviously.

Like two kids on a road trip who couldn’t sit next to each other without starting a war.

But they were here.

Waiting.

Which meant they had not murdered each other.

Wow. Okay. Good.

You stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind you. “Huh. You didn’t destroy the place.”

Chishiya didn’t look up from his book. “Disappointed?”

You snorted. “Surprised.”

Niragi let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Tch. Not my fault.” he muttered. “There was nothing to fucking do.”

You shrugged, setting your bag down on the table. “Well, good news.”

You started unpacking, pulling out a few cans of food, some extra bandages, a couple of bottles of water and a small, cute plushie. You placed it right on the coffee table, right between the two of them.

Silence.

Niragi squinted at it. “What the fuck is that?”

You blinked at him, deadpan. “A bear.”

He continued staring. Like he couldn’t process the fact that, after scavenging for supplies in an almost post-apocalyptic nightmare world, you had come back with a tiny stuffed bear.

Chishiya just hummed. “Interesting choice.”

You grinned. “I thought it was cute.”

Niragi made a face. “What, you gonna start collecting those now?”

“Maybe.” you mused, organizing the supplies. “Maybe I’ll decorate the place.”

Chishiya smirked. “Would be an improvement.”

Niragi snorted.

You gasped. “Excuse me?”

Chishiya didn’t even look up. “I’m just saying, the place is a little sterile.”

“Sterile?”

“You know. Too clean. Too perfect.”

Niragi stretched, cracking his neck. “Yeah, like a rich kid’s hideout.”

You huffed. “I like my place nice.”

Chishiya turned a page. “Mm. Suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes, finally plopping down onto the chair across from Niragi.

“Anyway.” you sighed. “I got supplies. Food. Water. Bandages.”

Niragi snatched a bottle off the table. “Tch. Took you long enough.”

You snorted. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere to be?”

He smirked, taking a sip. “Nah. Just missed you, babe.”

You smiled. “Aww, how sweet.”

Niragi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You could make it up to me, you know.”

“Oh? And how would I do that?”

He leaned forward, voice dropping. Suggestive. “Ever heard of a stress reliever?”

Chishiya closed his book. Loudly.

You placed your elbow on the table, chin in your palm, and matched Niragi’s energy effortlessly.

“Hm.” you mused, tilting your head. “I have. You should try one.”

Chishiya snorted.

Niragi blinked. Then laughed. Loud. Sharp. Fucking amused.

You leaned back, stretching your arms. “Anyway. You two can fight over the bedrooms again or sleep out here, I don’t care.”

Niragi scoffed. “Tch. Like I’d share a room with this asshole.”

Chishiya smirked. “I wouldn’t subject you to my presence.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You liked them.

“So, Chishiya.” Niragi drawled, stretching his legs out. “Tell me something.”

Chishiya did not look up. Did not react. Which only fueled Niragi’s need to annoy him.

“If you’re such a genius,” Niragi continued. “how the fuck did you end up half-dead in a ditch, huh?”

Chishiya finally blinked. Slowly. Then sighed.

“Same way you did.” he murmured, flipping through the book again. “By not giving a shit.”

Niragi grinned.

“Oh, no, see, I wasn’t the one who thought I was better than everyone.” he said mockingly. “I wasn’t the one who thought I was too smart to get my ass kicked.”

Chishiya hummed. “No, you were just too dumb to avoid it.”

Niragi laughed. Sharp, amused, but not fucking friendly.

“Cute.” he smirked. “For someone who thinks he’s so fucking smart, you really do make a lot of mistakes.”

Chishiya finally looked up. “And for someone who acts like he’s the biggest in the world you sure ended up in the same situation as me.”

Niragi’s grin twitched.

Your head hit the back of the chair.

Here we go.

Because of course Niragi wasn’t going to let that go. “You wanna repeat that, rat?”

Chishiya tilted his head. “Oh? Are your ears failing, too?”

Niragi sat up.

Even injured, even weak, even not at full strength, he still looked like he was one second away from throwing hands.

“You little—”

“No.”

Your voice cut through the air like a knife.

Both of them froze.

Not because you were loud. Not because you yelled.

But because you didn’t.

You were calm.

Too calm.

And that? That was scarier.

“If you two want to keep fighting,” you said, voice light, but firm. “then you can take your asses out of here.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms.

“You can either calm the fuck down,” you continued, sweet, but threatening. “or you can leave. I don’t care which.”

You watched them.

And you knew.

This was the moment.

If they argued—if they scoffed, if they fought back—then that was it.

They were leaving.

They’d be gone.

But if they stayed quiet—if they didn’t say a word—that was their answer.

That was them choosing to stay.

And for people like them? For people who never admitted they needed anyone, who never relied on anybody but themselves, this was big.

Chishiya sighed.

He looked back down at his book.

Didn’t say anything.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t leave.

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaned back on the couch, and mumbled, “Tch. Whatever.”

Didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t leave.

They were staying.