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ankababy · 3 months ago

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A Home (part 24)

Part 1 Part 23 Part 25

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

You were good.

TW: torture, said torture explained in detail, murder, Niragi crashing out, even I’m starting to feel bad, #justiceforbugsy

It was late—almost past the hour. The Beach was quieter now, the laughter distant. The hallway lights flickered softly as you padded down the carpet barefoot.

You knew exactly where he’d be.

It was the room where he kept the weapons.

You opened the door without knocking.

And of course—Aguni was there. Just as you’d pictured. Sitting on a chair, stripping a gun down to its bones. Oil on his fingers. He looked up as the door creaked open, and his face didn’t change.

“Go away.”

That was it. Gruff, solid, final. You smiled anyway. Of course you did.

“I won’t stay long.” you said gently, stepping in. “Niragi told me you wanted to talk.”

His fingers paused as he held a cleaning brush halfway through the barrel of the rifle. That’s what made him tilt his head.

“Niragi told you that?”

You nodded, the hem of your sweater—not yours, someone fucking gave it to you in the hallways??—brushing against your legs as you walked further into the room.

“So I came.” You said.

Aguni could have corrected you. Could have said no, he didn’t call for you. That Niragi was either fucking with you or trying to hide something. But he didn’t. Because Niragi lying? That was interesting. That was something to watch.

So he leaned back slightly, shoulders shifting, and grunted, “Yeah.”

You smiled brighter. “What do you need?”

He glanced around, scanning the weapons like he might pluck a task out of thin air. Then he grabbed a set of knives off the side bench and tossed one in your direction. You caught it clumsily.

“Last time you cleaned ‘em good.” he muttered. “Do it again.”

You beamed, sitting down at the bench like it was your favorite chair in the resort. And maybe it was. Maybe you liked being in places like this. Among cold men with warm hearts locked away under steel, among violence and war and danger. You always seemed to belong where you shouldn’t.

Your fingers curled around the cloth, and you got to work, humming something under your breath as you polished the blade.

Aguni watched you in silence for a long moment.

Everyone talked about you—how lucky you were, how untouched, how beloved. It didn’t make sense. But watching you now, bent over a knife, soft thighs on a metal stool, hair falling over one shoulder, humming a song while surrounded by death…

He kind of got it.

You weren’t stupid. You were just good. In a world that punished good people. And somehow, you were still here.

Still alive.

Still smiling.

He made a note of that. Because anyone Niragi was lying to—and lying for—meant something. And if something happened to you… well. Aguni wasn’t blind. The fire that boy held behind his eyes? The way he stood behind you in that executive meeting, not in front, never blocking the view of his queen?

Yeah. That kind of loyalty? It broke things when it cracked.

So Aguni kept watching. And you kept cleaning the knives. Unaware that even here, in this cold little weapons room, you were softening stone with nothing but your voice.

You finished one of the knives and turned it slowly under the overhead light, admiring the gleam, even though you clearly had no real interest in weaponry. You liked beautiful things. Shiny things. Dangerous things too, though you rarely admitted it.

“Do you ever sleep in here?” you asked suddenly, not looking at Aguni yet.

He grunted, which was technically a no.

You smiled at that, resting your chin on your hand, elbow on the table, the knife still in your other hand. “Thought so, but asked anyway. I didn’t come only because you called, I also wanted to check on you.”

That earned a real look. One that ticked upward with the faintest arch of his brow, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“You checked on me?”

“Well, yeah.” you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I like you.”

Aguni didn’t look impressed.

Your smile grew a little more sheepish. “You’re really intense, and terrifying, and your arms are huge—like, terrifyingly huge—but you’re not mean to me. So I like you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” you said simply, and went back to cleaning a blade like it was a lollipop stick.

There was a pause. Then you spoke again, quieter.

“You look tired lately.”

Aguni turned his eyes back to the weapon he was disassembling, but his hands slowed just enough to show he heard you. His jaw worked once, twice, but he didn’t say anything.

“You can’t carry the world.” you murmured. “No one can. Not even with arms that big.”

He grunted again. More guttural this time. Almost a laugh. Almost. “You always talk this much?”

You grinned. “All the time.”

He didn’t tell you to stop. He didn’t tell you to leave, either.

You turned another knife over in your hands, then paused, considering him again. “Do you think the world was always like this, and we just didn’t see it until now?”

Aguni didn’t answer immediately. When he did, it was low, flat. “No. The world made us like this.”

You nodded slowly, lips pressed together. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah.”

Silence again. A heavier one. You made spaces soft just by being in them, even when they were filled with weapons and old pain. You were the wrong kind of creature for this place. You shouldn’t have lasted a day. But here you were. With your perfect collarbone and Niragi’s bite on it, humming a tune while your fingers made steel gleam again.

You looked up at him.

“You ever want me to stay, you just gotta ask, okay?”

Aguni stared at you like you’d grown another head.

“Not like that.” you huffed. “I just meant—I don’t know. I like being around you. Even if you barely talk.”

He grunted.

You laughed at that, fond and warm and too radiant for this room, and went back to polishing the last blade. Aguni didn’t stop you. Not because he needed the help. But because—god forbid—he actually didn’t mind your dumb little company.

And if anyone else saw the way he let you exist in that space without a word of protest?

He’d deny it to the grave.

You held up another gleaming knife to the light, inspecting your handiwork like it was a diamond. “Okay,” you said, cradling it like a precious thing. “now that you’ve sat through my unsolicited commentary and philosophical rambling, it’s your turn.”

Aguni didn’t look up from the disassembled gun he was reassembling. “What.”

“How are you?” you asked simply.

He said nothing.

You blinked at him. “No, like. Actually. Not the grunt version. The real thing.”

Still silence.

“C’mon.” you nudged, not unkindly. “I’m not gonna psychoanalyze you or try to fix you. I just wanna know if your heart’s okay. Or your soul. Or your knee. I don’t know. Pick one.”

You placed the knife down, turning in your chair so your whole body faced him, knees curled up under you. “I think people forget to ask that. Like, we’re in survival mode twenty-four-seven and no one wants to admit they’re drowning. But you can tell me. I won’t do anything with it. Just carry it for you, if it’s heavy.”

Aguni’s jaw clenched for a long, quiet moment. He didn’t meet your eyes.

“You talk like that to everyone?” he muttered eventually.

You grinned. “Only the ones I like.”

“Pity?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. You’re hot and scary. I don’t pity you, Aguni, I genuinely like you.”

That got a blink out of him. He didn’t say anything.

“And no offense, but you look like someone who haven’t slept for years.” you added, soft again. “I just… I know what that weight looks like. So I’m asking. How are you?”

Aguni kept working, methodically fitting pieces of metal back together. For a minute, it seemed like he wouldn’t answer.

“Tired.” he said. “Sick of everyone pretending we’re gonna make it out of here. Sick of the Beach and Hatter’s speeches. Sick of having to watch kids play war.”

You nodded. You didn’t interrupt. You waited, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your top.

He stared at you.

You offered a tiny smile. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know what’s happening here. I know what people are. But I think… I think there’s still something beautiful left in people.”

He said nothing. Just stared at you. Maybe you were the strangest person he’d ever met.

You played with the blade in your hand. “You want me to bring you snacks next time?”

“No.”

“I’m bringing you snacks.”

Aguni huffed through his nose. Not quite a laugh. But something.

“And coffee.” you added. “You look like a black coffee guy. No cream. No sugar. Just pain.”

Aguni gave you a look that was a warning and an admission at once.

You grinned again. “Okay. Coffee, snacks, a decent knife-polishing playlist. Got it.”

He didn’t say thank you. But he didn’t tell you to leave, either. And when your shoulder brushed his as you leaned a little closer, he didn’t move away. Not even an inch.

“Can I check the guns out?” you asked. “I’ve never really… I mean, I held one during a game once, but it wasn’t mine. And you have so many.”

Aguni narrowed his eyes, sizing you up like he always did. As if trying to decide if you were joking. But you weren’t.

He didn’t answer right away. You didn’t push.

Then—finally, with a grunt—he set the rifle down, picked up a smaller handgun, and offered it to you handle-first. “This one. Safety’s on. Keep it pointed down.”

Your hands cradled it like it was fragile. “Whoa.” you whispered, turning it in your palms, weight shifting in your grip. “It’s… heavier than I thought.”

He nodded, watching you closely, arms crossed. Almost like a dad standing behind a teenager at a shooting range, though he’d never let anyone hear it said like that.

“I always figured movies made guns look lighter for dramatic effect.” you added, bringing it up slightly—not aiming, just testing its balance. “But this feels like… I don’t know. Do you remember your first?”

“First what?”

“Gun. First time holding one. First time realizing what it could do.”

Aguni nodded once. “Too young. It was someone else’s. Not a game. Real thing. Real blood.”

You swallowed, your hands going still. You understood. You didn’t have to ask more.

“I’m glad this one isn’t loaded.” you said quietly. “I don’t think I’d ever be ready to point it at someone.”

Aguni’s eyes didn’t soften, exactly, but the tension in his jaw relaxed a fraction. “You don’t have to be.”

You smiled again, setting the gun down gently, like it was something sacred. “But you are. Aren’t you?”

“I don’t get to not be.” he said.

You looked up at him—this carved-out, hollowed man, built of grit and grief and gunpowder—and said, “You carry so much. I don’t think people see that. But I do.”

His silence spoke more than words.

You leaned in again, your shoulder brushing his like before, and said softly, “Thanks.”

Aguni didn’t answer, but his hand shifted slightly on the table. Not touching you, not exactly—but close enough that if you moved just a little more, you could’ve rested your pinky against his.

He didn’t stop you from talking. Not once. He didn’t ask you to leave. Not once.

And for someone like him, that said everything.

The room was dim, lit only by the bare bulb overhead, its light flickering like a heartbeat.

Akira was tied to the chair with military precision—ankles, wrists, torso. He wasn’t gagged. Yet. His face was flushed with rage and fear, trying to wear a mask of something cocky, but the sweat on his temple betrayed him. He shifted once. The chair creaked. No one responded.

In front of him stood Niragi, leaning against the wall. A little too still. A little too quiet. A cigarette burned between his fingers, but he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. He just let it smolder.

And then there was Chishiya. Lurking in the shadows on the other side of the room, arms crossed. Half his face in darkness. The way he watched Akira… it wasn’t personal. Not in the way Niragi made it. But it was intentional. It was focused.

Akira broke first. “What the fuck is this?” he barked, yanking against the bindings. “You crazy fucks—you think this is funny?”

Niragi laughed. Slow and mean. He pushed off the wall and stepped forward, taking a drag then exhaling smoke into the air. “Oh, I think it’s hilarious.”

“Is this about Y/N?” Akira demanded, shifting in the chair again. “You know she talks to everyone like that. I didn’t even—”

Wrong answer.

A slap cracked across Akira’s face, splitting his lip. Blood welled fast.

“You don’t say her name.” Niragi said. “You don’t even fucking breathe in her direction unless I say so.”

Chishiya didn’t move, but his gaze tracked every twitch of muscle on Niragi’s body. He was watching—not to stop him, but to keep the balance. There was a method to this madness. A reason. A purpose.

“She’s not yours.” Akira snapped, head jerking up, blood in his teeth. “She’s not any of yours. She’s just—”

This time, Niragi’s fist connected with his stomach, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Akira gasped, coughed, spat red. Niragi crouched down to his level, smiling that twisted, unhinged grin of his.

“No, she’s not mine.” he said softly. “But she could be. You? You were never even close. You’re nothing but a bug she didn’t notice she stepped on.”

Akira wheezed, glaring.

Chishiya finally spoke. His voice was smooth, detached. Almost bored. “You’re a footnote, Akira. That’s all. You were in the way.”

“I didn’t touch her like that.” Akira said. “You’re both sick. Obsessed. I didn’t even do anything.”

“But you wanted to.” Chishiya replied, stepping out of the shadows now, his hands still in his pockets. “You thought about it. Fantasized. And that’s enough.”

“She’s like a fucking religion to you people.” Akira spat.

Niragi smiled. “Exactly.”

It was the only time they’d agree. Ever. If they could ever work together—if they could put their hate and their differences and their twisted and unbelievably smart minds together for anything—it was because of you.

Only you.

“She would hate this.” Akira muttered, head rolling to the side. “She would hate both of you if she knew—”

Chishiya stepped forward. “But she won’t.”

“She doesn’t need to know everything.” Niragi added. “She already knows we’re fucked. And she still smiles at us.”

Akira blinked. “You’re sick.”

“Oh.” Niragi said, crouching again. “You have no fucking idea.”

Then he stood, wiped the blood off his knuckles with a handkerchief, and glanced at Chishiya. “Your turn, genius. Before I take the rest of his teeth.”

Chishiya looked down at Akira for a long moment. Then he tilted his head.

“I have nothing to say.”

And Akira, broken and bound, finally saw it. That there was something terrifying in both of them—something unnameable. Not love. Not even obsession.

Worship.

And it would burn everything down.

Akira was slumped now, one eye already swelling shut, lip split and still bleeding. But despite the blood and bruises, it wasn’t over. Not even close.

“I’ve been thinking.” Niragi said, walking around the chair, smoke curling off the cigarette in his mouth. “About how lucky you are. I mean—look at you. Front row seat to a private performance, two of the smartest people at the Beach interrogating you. You should be grateful.”

Akira groaned, blood trailing from his nose now. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Chishiya finally moved again, shifting closer. Calm. Clinical. “You keep saying that as if it’s news.”

Niragi leaned in again, clapping both hands dramatically on Akira’s shoulders. “Let’s play a game. You like games, right? It’s all games here.” His voice lifted. “It’s called ‘What The Fuck Did You Think Was Going To Happen?’”

Chishiya, impossibly, let out a small sound. Almost like a chuckle. A sharp little exhale that barely touched his lips. Niragi noticed it. Turned to him.

“See? He gets it.”

“Barely.” Chishiya muttered. But he didn’t move away.

Niragi turned back. “Round one. You see her—beautiful, bright, too good for this world—and you decide to touch her.” He slaps the side of Akira’s face, just enough to sting. “You don’t even ask. You think you get to be seen with her? Cute little tricks, acting like you’re not all twitchy inside your skin and all hard when she smiles at you.”

Akira choked out a sound, more frustration than pain. “She’s not yours.”

Niragi’s grin widened. “She’s not yours, either. And I don’t share.”

Chishiya stepped closer, crouching now in front of the chair, watching Akira. “You didn’t even get her name first time you talked. She didn’t care enough to tell you. That’s embarrassing.”

“She calls me ‘baby’ sometimes.” Niragi added, now pacing behind the chair. “Did you know that? Real soft. Like a song. Probably calls you ‘uhh…’ if anything at all.”

“She touched your arm.” Chishiya deadpanned, looking up at Akira. “That’s the highlight of your existence. A brief, meaningless moment she won’t even remember tomorrow.”

“But we will.” Niragi whispered, bending close to hiss it in his ear.

Another punch, harder this time—straight to the ribs. Akira wheezed and sagged sideways in the chair, breath stuttering.

“Round two.” Niragi announced, lighting another cigarette. “Tell us everything she ever said to you. And I mean everything. Otherwise…” He held up a knife, small, curved. “We start playing the advanced version.”

Akira coughed, blood splattering his chin. “You… you guys need help.”

“No.” Chishiya said. “You do.”

But they weren’t in a hurry. That was the most terrifying part. They didn’t want quick answers. They weren’t working on a clock.

It was about the fact that this man—this irrelevant bug—got a second more of your time than he should’ve. Got to breathe the same space, touch your arm, make you laugh.

Unforgivable.

Niragi leaned down again, far too close now. “Y’know, she’d hate this. All this blood, all this mess. But I’ll clean it up before she sees it. I’ll keep it pretty for her. Because she deserves pretty.”

He ran the tip of the knife down Akira’s cheek—not cutting, just threatening. Taunting.

“Does she know?” Akira rasped. “Do you think she’d still smile at you if she knew what you’re doing right now?”

Chishiya tilted his head. “Probably.”

“She knows we’re monsters.” Niragi whispered. “Likes it.”

Another hit. Not a punch this time—a hard smack with the butt of the knife against Akira’s collarbone. His head lolled back, but he didn’t pass out. Not yet. Not allowed to.

Chishiya stood again, smoothing his hoodie. “He’ll break soon.”

“Yeah.” Niragi said, stepping back to admire with a head tilt. “And when he does, we’re gonna make sure he never even looks in her direction again.”

They weren’t done yet.

Not until it stopped being fun.

Akira groaned through blood-caked lips, slouched low now like his spine had given up. He wasn’t gagged, but it didn’t matter—he couldn’t talk over the ringing in his ears and the rhythm of Niragi’s pacing.

“You ever think about how fucking stupid people are?” Niragi mused aloud, arms flailing as he paced in tight circles. “Like, why would someone see a guy with a gun, a reputation, and a literal body count, and still decide to flirt with the girl standing next to him?” He spun toward Akira with an exaggerated shrug. “Is it delusion? Are you one of those mental dudes? What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

Chishiya, leaning against the wall now, murmured. “Terminal stupidity.”

“Stage four?” Niragi asked.

“Inoperable.”

Akira managed a wheeze that might’ve been a word. Niragi crouched down in front of him, cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth, smoke trailing upward into his wild hair. “Whassat? You wanna try that sentence again? Speak up, champ, we believe in you.”

“I… I didn’t… mean anything by it…”

“Oh! You didn’t mean anything by it? That makes it fine, then!” Niragi stood again, exasperated. “Everyone, cancel the fucking torture session, he didn’t mean anything by it!” He spun toward Chishiya. “He said it was an accident.”

Chishiya’s deadpan didn’t even flicker. “Then we should definitely kill him. We can’t have accidents around here.”

“Can’t trust a man who trips into flirting.” Niragi muttered, then walked over to grab a chair and drag it across the floor with an intentional screech, placing it backwards in front of Akira. He straddled it, resting his arms across the top.

“You know what she said to me just before you fucking came up to her?” he said to no one in particular. “She said she wants to buy me a lava lamp.” His voice cracked into something weirdly reverent. “A fucking lava lamp. What kind of person says that? Who remembers something like that?”

Chishiya looked at Niragi. “Someone who’s not made of ash and spite?”

Niragi pointed at him with the cigarette. “Exactly. She’s like… lightbulbs in a blackout. And you—” He turned back to Akira. “—you wanted to smother that? With your slimy little elbow touches and forced ‘not hiding from any admirers’ pickup line?”

Akira looked like he wanted to melt into the chair.

“Oh my god.” Niragi said suddenly, standing up like he just had a vision. “Let’s give him a nickname.”

Chishiya arched a brow. “What are you, twelve?”

“I like nicknames.” Niragi’s eyes lit up with something unhinged. “We’ll call him—Bugsy.”

“Why Bugsy?”

“Because he’s like a bug. And he bugged me. And I want to crush him.” Niragi grinned again. “Plus, it’s cute. Like a little pet. We could keep him around and feed him.”

Akira groaned.

“Bugsy doesn’t like his name.” Chishiya noted.

“Well, Bugsy doesn’t like a lot of things right now.” Niragi said with mock sadness, crouching again, almost sweet. “But guess what, Bugsy? Neither do we. And guess who gets to decide if you ever walk again?” Akira flinched as Niragi leaned in, too close. “Not you.”

There was a pause. Niragi stood up and stretched, bones cracking audibly.

“I’m bored.” he said finally. “We beat him up, made fun of his tragic lack of game, mocked his face. What next?”

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “You always say that after five minutes.”

“I have a vibrant attention span.”

“We could just leave him here.” Chishiya offered, glancing down at Akira as though he were already a corpse.

“Leave him tied up?” Niragi tilted his head, actually considering it. “Put a note on him? ‘Property of the Beach’s mental illness club’?”

Chishiya nodded. “He’s not important enough to kill.”

Niragi stared at Akira for a long moment. “He touched her.”

“He’s already suffering.”

That… made Niragi stop.

He blinked. Then, slowly, he cracked a grin. “That’s true.”

Akira blinked blood out of his eye. “You’re both insane.”

Chishiya pulled his hood on. “You’re both boring. Can we go now?”

Niragi took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked it to Akira’s crotch, grinding it out with his shoe, earning a loud grunt. Then he leaned down, grabbed Akira by the shirt, and said quietly, too quiet to be casual: “If you ever look at her again, Bugsy, I’ll feed you your teeth. Slowly.”

He let go with a shove, like Bugsy wasn’t even worth holding.

“Let’s go.” he said, turning to Chishiya. “She’ll be wondering where we are.”

They were halfway out the door when the voice came, strangled and half-choked, yet laced with something pathetic and bold.

“I’ll save her!”

Niragi stopped. “You hear that?” he asked Chishiya without turning. “Was that the bug talking?”

Chishiya didn’t answer, but the way he shifted said he heard it too.

“You don’t get it!” Akira coughed, spitting something dark. “She’s too fucking good for you! For both of you! You don’t deserve someone like her—you’re gonna ruin her! You’ll eat her alive and not even know it until there’s nothing left!”

Silence.

click.

The sound of Niragi’s blade flicking open was soft. Subtle. Intimate.

He turned, just his head at first. Then his full body. He walked. Calm. Slow. The knife glinting under the lights. Chishiya sighed audibly and closed the door behind them again. Inside, Niragi was already crouching down again, face inches from Akira’s. Not smiling anymore.

“You think she needs saving?” His voice was low, breath thick with venom. “You think you see her like I do? You don’t know shit about her. You just want something shiny to fix your broken little ego.”

Akira tried to look brave. That was stupid.

Niragi stood, stepped to the side—and then with no warning, no wind-up, he slashed his knife clean across the front of Akira’s shin. Deep. From just below the knee to the ankle.

Akira screamed. Instantly. Unfiltered. The noise of pain echoed off the walls, raw and feral.

Blood poured like a faucet, dark and vivid, down his leg and onto the floor.

“Shh, shh…” Niragi knelt, watching it trickle, fascinated. “Don’t die too fast, Bugsy. This isn’t even close to punishment. This is just a reminder.”

Akira writhed, trying to pull back, but Niragi shoved him hard against the back of the chair.

“You think she’s a fucking flower.” he snarled. “But she’s not. She’s the reason people like me don’t slit their wrists at sunrise.”

Akira tried to breathe through the pain, through the burn of his nerves screaming. “She deserves—”

“—to choose.” Niragi cut him off sharply. “She’s not yours to rescue. Not yours to worship. Not yours to pity. You don’t get to think about her like that.”

Then he leaned close again, the blade still dripping. “You know what she is?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “A miracle. She’s fucking untouchable. And you?” His eyes dropped to the wound. “You’re meat.”

Chishiya, meanwhile, had leaned against the closed door, his arms crossed. “Are you quite done?” he asked blandly. “He’s going to go into shock soon.”

“Let him.” Niragi muttered.

“I’d rather he didn’t. He needs to remember this.”

That got a little grin out of Niragi. He stood, kicked the leg of the chair lightly, and then turned back toward the door. “Let’s go find our girl.”

Chishiya opened the door again, not even glancing back. “Probably has a new pet by now.”

“I bet she’s cold.” Niragi cooed loud enough for Akira to still hear, tucking the knife away. “She needs someone to hold her sweater.”

As they walked out, Akira’s groans behind them quieted. Chishiya didn’t even look back.

“She needs someone who’ll actually last.” Chishiya said as they disappeared down the hallway.

And Niragi, still grinning like a devil, replied, “Then it’s a damn good thing she’s got both of us.”

It was three past midnight. The halls of the resort were mostly silent now. Your sweater was still loose around your shoulders, your bikini top glimmering underneath, faint shadows of moonlight catching on the edge of your cheekbone.

Then you opened your room’s door.

Chishiya, curled up in your armchair, flipping something in his fingers—one of your hair clips, probably. Niragi was sprawled on the long couch, shoes kicked off, smoke trailing from the open window, one leg hanging over the armrest.

You blinked, then smiled. A little tired.

“Oh.” you said, letting the door close behind you. “You two waiting for me?”

Chishiya looked up like he hadn’t been, but he didn’t say anything. Niragi scoffed like it was a stupid question, but didn’t deny it.

You didn’t know. Of course you didn’t. You had no idea that not an hour ago, the two of them had worked together, actually worked together, in some musty room on the other side of the Beach, tying up a man and cutting him open. You didn’t know how deeply your name had burned in that room like gasoline catching fire. You didn’t know how they had stood there, shoulder to shoulder, hatred forgotten, because you were the only thread that bound them tightly enough to not kill each other.

All you knew was that they were here.

“I just talked to Aguni.” You murmured, getting your unnecessary little accessories off.

Chishiya’s face didn’t change. “Why?”

You gave a small shrug, padding barefoot over to the coffee table where your frog and your lobster were in their little homes. “Niragi said he wanted to see me.”

A beat. Niragi looked sideways at Chishiya, but didn’t say anything. He just leaned back further on the couch, blanket half-falling off his torso, smirking at the ceiling, smoke coming from his cigarette.

“And?” Chishiya asked, his voice cool and light, like he hadn’t watched a man bleed out earlier.

“I checked out some of the guns.” you saiid.

There was something almost disarming about the way you moved, the way your presence filled the space. You didn’t ask why they were in your room. You didn’t ask what they’d been up to. You didn’t even ask if they were okay—because you already assumed they were. That’s how kind you were. You believed in people.

You dropped down onto the couch next to Niragi, pulling his blanket off his shoulder so you could share it, laying your head on the cushion. “I’m tired.”

“No shit.” Niragi muttered, but he let you lean against him anyway. He didn’t even move when your fingers found the edge of his sleeve and curled there.

Chishiya’s gaze flicked over you both. He didn’t say anything, didn’t tease. He just put your hair clip back on the table and stood up slowly. You looked over with a curious little smile.

“You leaving?” you asked.

“Getting water.” he said, though there was a water bottle on the side table.

You let it go. Of course you did. You always did.

Niragi exhaled slowly, smoke curling out the window as he glanced down at you. He was half listening to your breathing already starting to slow.

“I like this.” you murmured. “Us. I don’t know why, but I do.”

Niragi didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. If he opened his mouth, he might tell you that he carved pieces of the world open for you. That he’d drown in his own blood if it meant you’d never cry. That when you smiled at him, his ribs hurt because they had no idea how to hold the thing blooming inside.

Instead, he just pulled the blanket a little more over you.

And Chishiya, standing in the kitchen, drinking water he didn’t need, watched that through the reflection of the glass window and thought he should have killed Akira sooner.

Because nothing about this was clean. But all of it was real.

The blanket was warm, heavy with Niragi’s lingering heat and the sharp scent of his cigarettes, but it wasn’t complete. Not without the other piece. Your lashes fluttered half-closed, eyes heavy as your cheek pressed against the back of the couch. But your hand still reached out, barely lifting from the folds of the blanket, your fingers extending gently—toward the empty space.

“Chishiya.” you murmured, not even turning your head, just sensing where he was. “Come sit.”

You didn’t even open your eyes. You didn’t need to. You just patted the spot beside you like it was always meant for him, like this wasn’t just a sofa in a luxurious room at a beachside resort in a world where people died. No—this was a place you made feel like home. And that little bit of space, that warmth you offered so naturally—it was meant to be shared.

Chishiya stood still for a long second in the kitchenette, fingers curled around the neck of the water bottle. He hadn’t expected you to ask. He never expected anything from you anymore because you were always two steps ahead in the most unassuming way. Sweet. Effortless. Exhaustingly bright.

He hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he knew what it would mean.

And then he came anyway.

He crossed the room without a word and lowered himself down beside you with the same controlled grace he applied to everything. You shifted immediately, sleepily, body turning so you could tuck your shoulder gently against his, one of your legs brushing Niragi’s as your head now rested in the space between them. Perfectly slotted. Like you belonged nowhere else.

“Better.” you whispered. And god, you meant it.

Your hand found the fabric of Chishiya’s sleeve, a light clutch—like you needed him there. Just for a second. Just long enough for your body to sigh and soften.

Niragi was quiet beside you. Still. He didn’t scoff or smirk or shift away. If anything, he leaned closer. His thigh pressed against yours, and he watched your breath slow like it was something holy. He wasn’t used to this. Quiet. Stillness. He wasn’t built for softness, but for some reason, he was always gentler when it came to you—even if he didn’t know how to be anything but brutal.

Chishiya, on the other hand, just stared straight ahead. He didn’t glance at you, but his muscles had gone a shade less tense. Your presence always did that.

He could admit it now. He wanted to be near you. He didn’t understand why. It wasn’t logic or calculation—it was something primal. A want he couldn’t dissect, because if he tried, he’d find too many answers he didn’t like.

“I love being around you guys.” you mumbled.

Neither of them responded, but both of them heard it. Niragi’s jaw clenched. Chishiya’s eyes flicked down toward your hand still resting on his sleeve.

“I know you’re both kinda…” You paused. Words slurring just slightly. “Fucked up. And maybe I am too. I think that’s why I feel good around you. You never make me pretend.”

Your fingers twitched. You weren’t even really awake anymore. Just rambling like your heart was leaking truth while your mind shut down. “You’re like… knives, but not pointing at me.”

And then your breath deepened, slow and steady, your body slackening between them like your trust was implicit. Like you never once considered that these two boys—who’d carved up someone not an hour ago—could ever be a threat to you.

Because they weren’t.

Not to you.

Niragi stared at your face now, the shadows of sleep making your features look even more delicate, the tip of your nose cold from the AC, lashes fanned out.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t dare.

He’d kill anyone who woke you.

And Chishiya? Chishiya stayed just as still, his heart beating in a slow, unfamiliar rhythm.

It was terrifying.

You were terrifying.

Because they didn’t believe in angels, not until you showed up and decided to curl yourself between two monsters like they were just broken boys you could love back together.

And worst of all? They let you.

In the morning, you woke up slowly, blinking against the early sunlight slicing through the open curtains. Your cheek was still pressed into the softness of your blanket, the smell of Niragi’s cigarettes and Chishiya’s scent still faint in the air. You stretched a little, arms reaching out blindly to either side, expecting to bump into them—warm bodies.

But they weren’t there.

No note. No message. No trace.

Typical.

You let out a small sigh, hugging the blanket tighter around you and closing your eyes again for a moment. You weren’t mad. You were never mad. You just missed them already, even though the day had barely started.

Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the resort, Bugsy—aka Akira—was still tied to the same chair. His face had bruises painted across his cheekbone and jaw, one eye swelling shut, lips cracked and dried blood caked under his nose.

And he was mumbling something.

Something about you again.

Chishiya was standing by the wall, flipping through some magazine he’d stolen off a passing guy earlier that morning. Niragi? Niragi was crouched in front of the guy with that fucking glint in his eye. That spark.

“Still talking about her?” Niragi said in a voice that was mockingly soft. “Cute.”

“I’m not scared of you.” Akira spat, though his words were slurred.

“You should be.” Niragi replied flatly, and stood up again.

Without much ceremony, he turned toward the table where they had a series of entirely unnecessary tools—because truly, the beatings had long become more about entertainment than interrogation. He picked up something new. Something nasty. It looked like a sharpened piece of scrap metal that had once been part of a grill.

“I swear, I will get her away from this place.” Akira growled, his voice gaining just enough force to make it annoying.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Niragi said, spinning on his heel. “You know what’s weird, Bugsy? You keep acting like she wants to be saved.”

“She doesn’t know what you are—”

“Wrong again.” Chishiya said flatly from the corner without even looking up.

Then Niragi stabbed the piece of scrap into Akira’s thigh. Not deep. Not fatal. Just enough to drag a scream from the poor bastard’s lungs and shut him up for at least thirty seconds.

“God, you’re so loud.” Niragi complained, stepping back and shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “You really think she’s gonna ditch all this—” he gestured at himself with a grin that was all teeth. “for some desperate, mid-tier simp with a crush and zero survival skills?”

“She pities you.” Akira hissed. “She pities both of you.”

“Maybe.” Chishiya said finally. “But she’s still in bed with us.”

That shut him up.

Niragi made a dramatic little “oooh” face. “Look at you. You’ve got jokes.” He bent down, real close to Akira’s face. “You’ve got no idea what she’s like, Bugsy.”

“I think she likes the frog more than she likes you.” Chishiya added absently, flipping another page.

Niragi let out a bark of a laugh, nearly doubling over. “She does! She does! The frog, man!”

“And the lobster.” Chishiya corrected. “Can’t forget the lobster.”

“She has a lobster?” Akira wheezed.

“You don’t even know what she’s like.” Niragi said, wiping at the blood on his knuckles. “That girl cries over bugs and tells me I need vitamins. You think you’re the one for her?”

“Go write her a poem.” Chishiya muttered.

Niragi snorted, then shoved his chair back. “You should be thanking us. This is the longest anyone’s ever talked about you. Actually…” he said, tone light, tapping his fingers against the chair’s metal frame, “let’s have a little heart-to-heart, yeah?”

Akira groaned. “Please don’t.”

“Oh, I insist.” Niragi said, walking around to the front, squatting down, elbows on his knees, all that manic boyish energy barely held in by the twitch of a smirk. “Tell me, Bugsy… when exactly did you decide you were gonna ‘save’ her? Was it the first time she smiled at you? Or when she didn’t give a single fuck about you?”

Chishiya moved a bit closer this time, dragging a chair and sitting in it backwards like Niragi did last time.

Akira glared between them with his one good eye. “She’s too good for you. Both of you.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Chishiya agreed with zero hesitation. “But here’s the funny part—she knows it.”

“She knows,” Niragi repeated, grin curling like smoke. “and yet…”

“She’s still curled between us at night.” Chishiya finished, deadpan.

“I HATE both of you.” Akira muttered, trying to shift in the chair. “You don’t love her. You’re just… obsessed with her.”

“Same thing.” Niragi said, waving a hand. “I mean, what’s the difference between love and obsession, really? I let her sit in my chair. That’s love. I haven’t burned the whole Beach down just to keep her with me. That’s restraint.”

Chishiya gave a slow blink. “He has a point.”

Akira’s mouth twisted. “You’re all fucking insane.”

Niragi’s eyes lit up. “We are! It’s the only thing you’ve said all morning that I agree with.”

“Insane and fun.” Chishiya added, propping his chin on his hand.

“Don’t forget hot.” Niragi said.

“I never do.” Chishiya murmured.

Akira was very much trying to will himself into unconsciousness at this point, face falling somewhere between pain and frustration.

“So.” Niragi said cheerfully. “What’s your plan, Bugsy? Let’s say we vanish—poof, gone. She’s free. What next? You run off into the sunset with her?”

“She wouldn’t even remember your name by the time she hit the gate.” Chishiya said helpfully. “She doesn’t know your name now.”

“She does!”

Niragi leaned in. “Does she?”

Akira opened his mouth. Closed it. “…fuck.”

Niragi leaned back and howled with laughter, kicking his foot against the ground like a kid at recess. “She doesn’t even know your name! I’ve seen her name her leftover pastries!”

“She has a frog and a lobster. And they get more attention than you.” Chishiya said, flipping a piece of rope between his fingers. “And yet… here you are. Still talking about saving her. Still bleeding for her. Still pining.”

“I’d die for her.” Akira muttered, his voice hoarse.

Niragi tilted his head. “Cute. I’d kill for her. Already have. You think that wins you points?”

“She deserves someone normal.” Akira said, suddenly serious, choking on the blood in his mouth. “Someone who doesn’t tie people to chairs or manipulate them or—”

“Boring.” Niragi groaned. “That sounds so boring. She deserves someone who sees her. Someone who gets what’s underneath all the sweetness and pink and glitter and that soft little voice that breaks your fucking heart.”

There was silence after that.

Even Akira, broken and furious as he was, couldn’t argue with that.

Eventually Niragi slapped the bloodied metal scrap against his thigh just for effect.

“Well, this was fun.” he said. “Therapeutic. You ever need a support group, Bugsy, you know where not to find us.”

Chishiya rose too, stretching lazily.

“You’ll be fine.” he said flatly. “Probably.”

Bugsy mumbled something incoherent, but neither of them listened.

And then, very calmly, very lightly, Niragi reached into his belt, pulled out a blade and looked at Akira with a boyish grin.

“One more.”he cooed softly.

Chishiya stopped, one hand on the door handle, arching a brow. “Really?”

“Just one.” Niragi said, crouching down again, facing Akira. “For Bugsy.”

Akira breathed hard through his nose. “You’re fucking insane.”

“We’ve covered that, yeah.” Niragi said, tone airy.

And then he didn’t wait. Didn’t count down. No warning, no slow sadism—just a sharp, savage jab of the knife right into the meat of Akira’s thigh, below the old wound, dragging it across as if carving his initials into a tree. The wet, visceral sound of it filled the quiet room like a cough in a church.

Akira screamed. Short, hoarse, half a breath—because the pain cut through him faster than he could even scream properly. The chair rattled, his wrists yanking uselessly against the ropes.

Niragi just watched him. Smiling. Smiling like it was funny.

“See, this one,” Niragi said, voice warm, affectionate even, as he slowly pulled the blade out with a disgusting sound. “this one’s for touching her. Her arm. Her back. What were you trying to do, huh? Guide her? Walk her away from me? Be her knight?”

The blood ran freely, soaking into Akira’s already-ruined swim shorts, dripping onto the floor.

“You really thought you had a chance.” Niragi murmured. “That’s the funniest part.”

“I didn’t—” Akira gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice level, but his breath was ragged, broken. “I just… wanted her safe…”

“From us?” Niragi said, with a bark of laughter. “Shit, Bugsy. You know how many times I could’ve hurt her, for real? How many times I could’ve broken her? But I didn’t. I don’t.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“You wanna know why?”

Akira didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Niragi’s mouth brushed close to his ear.

“Because she’s mine.”

There was nothing romantic about the way he said it. It was ugly, raw, possessive. It wasn’t the word of a man in love—it was the word of a man starved, who’d finally found a taste he couldn’t live without. Who would kill and burn and bleed the world for just another drop of you.

“She’d never let you get this close.” Niragi said as he stood. “Never let you put your hands on her like I have. Never curl up in your bed, never fall asleep with her face against your chest. You don’t even exist in her world the way we do.”

Chishiya still hadn’t said a word. Still hadn’t moved. He watched the pool of blood expand beneath Akira’s chair, calmly, almost analytically. “You done?” he asked finally.

Niragi tilted his head. “Yeah.” he said, like it was nothing. “That’s enough for now.”

He wiped the blade on Akira’s already-ruined shirt and tucked it back into his belt, casual as anything.

Akira slumped, breathing in harsh, uneven gasps, sweat pouring from his brow, but still, somehow—still—he tried to look up. To glare. Respect for the effort tbh.

“I’m not scared of you.” he rasped.

“Cool.” Niragi grinned. “She was.”

As Akira slumped forward again, Niragi walked toward the door, cracking his neck with a yawn. “Well, I’m starving. Want breakfast?”

Chishiya nodded. “Let’s leave him tied up. See how he feels about brunch.”

Chishiya opened the door. Niragi followed. And finally, they left.

Kuina’s room always smelled like peach body mist and something warm. Homey. You were curled up on her bed, barefoot, a soft lavender robe pulled tight around your bikini—because you hadn’t bothered to change yet after the pool, and she hadn’t minded.

“So, then I told him I don’t play volleyball because I’m legally allergic to team sports.” you said, eyes gleaming. You were a natural leader, so no, you weren’t actually legally allergic to team sports. “And he actually apologized. Can you believe that?”

“Only because you looked like you were gonna cry.” Kuina teased, flicking your leg gently with her fingers.

“I was gonna cry.” you admitted, hugging her pillow. “I have sensitive skin!”

She grinned at you, but her eyes softened for a second, watching how you looked down into the fabric. You were always on, always smiling.

Before either of you could get further into it, the door opened, and in stepped Chishiya.

“Oh—hey.” you said gently, sitting up straighter. “Are you here to talk about the plan? Should I leave?”

It was automatic, that kindness of yours. Always making room for others. Always pulling away so others could have their space. Even now, when you were curled up in comfort with Kuina, you offered to disappear like it was second nature.

“No.” he said, voice as neutral as ever. “Not about the plan.”

Your head tilted just slightly, your eyes softening again. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” he repeated, already making his way into the room. He dropped into the chair near Kuina’s desk. You sat back, gaze flicking between the two of them, curling your legs under you again.

Kuina gave Chishiya a look. It wasn’t teasing. It was soft. Maybe a little amused. But mostly knowing. Because no matter what he said—about it not being about the plan, about not needing anything from you—Kuina knew. He knew.

He just liked being near you.

You were his comfort zone.

And there was something almost sweet in the way Chishiya always found his way back to you two. To his girls.

You adjusted yourself on Kuina’s bed, robe slipping slightly off one shoulder, exposing a hint of the pink strap beneath. You didn’t fix it. You didn’t even notice. You were too busy smiling—bright, warm, like the sunrise had moved into your chest.

You turned your gaze to him, always soft, always so full of something kind. “So,” you started, voice dipped in honey. “did you know Kuina used to do karate or something? She said she could totally flip me in two seconds flat. I’m skeptical.”

“I said could,” Kuina huffed. “not would. Big difference.”

Chishiya gave you both a glance, lazy, but his eyes lingered. “I believe her.” he said.

“You’re taking her side?” You gasped.

“You’d break before she hit the ground.” he replied. That same cool, clinical voice—but god, you loved when he gave you attention. When he spoke to you like that, even when it was dry humor.

You put your hand over your heart. “Rude. Rude and heartless.” But you were laughing. Your fingers found Kuina’s again and gave her a little squeeze. She smiled at the way you always touched people. It wasn’t flirtation. It wasn’t manipulation. You just… loved. So freely. “You’d be the worst nurse ever.” you said, nodding at Chishiya. “Zero bedside manner. You’d probably just roll your eyes if I flatlined.”

Chishiya tilted his head a bit, gaze level. “You wouldn’t flatline.” he said simply. “You’re too stubborn.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “well that’s kind of nice, actually.”

You didn’t know what they did when you weren’t around. You didn’t know about Akira tied to the chair, the blood still drying beneath his bare feet.

But you knew their eyes when they looked at you.

They loved you. In completely different ways. Kuina loved you like the sun—worshipped the light of you, basked in the attention. Chishiya loved you like a scientist loves a miracle—quietly, obsessively.

And only one of them, only one of them, had blood on his hands right now. Blood still warm. Metaphorically. The scent still ghosting his skin even here.

But he sat there anyway, watching you laugh. Watching you swing your feet and tuck your hands under your chin and talk about nothing like it mattered.

Like you were untouchable. Sacred. Clean.

He couldn’t stop. He never could.

“I saw a beetle earlier.” you told them. “Like, this really shiny one. I tried to save it from a leaf, but then it crawled onto my arm, and I screamed and threw it into the bushes, so I guess I failed that one.”

Chishiya only hummed, eyes never leaving you. Kuina snorted. Chishiya just stared. Your curse. Your gift. Your stupid, beautiful rambling.

You had no idea what they’d done last night and this morning. You had no idea.

Too good to be here, too good to be theirs—and yet here you were. Right where they wanted you.

Safe.

Soft.

Smiling.

Your legs kicked a little. “So… can we hang out today?”

Kuina smiled, because how could she not. “You mean right now?”

You nodded, lips puffed slightly like it helped with persuasion. “If you’re not busy. I mean, you probably are. You’re always doing something, you sneaky little secret agents with your murder plans and card stealing plots and… and torture dungeons or whatever.”

Chishiya blinked. Just once.

You turned your gaze to him, a little more direct now. “Seriously though. If it doesn’t get in the way of your… planning stuff, I’d like to be around you guys. I’ll be quiet if I need to. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You don’t have to beg. You know we want to be around you.” Kuina said.

You turned your head and looked at him directly. “Chishiya?” you asked, voice small, testing the waters. “You too?”

He didn’t sigh. Didn’t roll his eyes. Instead, he looked at you a beat longer, then said, simply, “Sure.”

“Yay.” you gasped, clapping your hands together and leaning against Kuina, who leaned into you. She wanted to touch you all the time—wanted you draped across her lap, wrapped around her arm, fingers in her hair. You gave that kind of warmth like it was nothing, and Kuina drank it in like she’d been starved.

Chishiya’s arms were crossed, his face the usual, but his attention never left you. You offered up affection the way other people offered candy. So easily. So earnestly. No strings attached—except, perhaps, the ones you unknowingly tied around everyone’s throats.

You reached out a hand toward him—palm up, not pushing, just offering.

“Come on.” you said. “I haven’t had a good walk in a while. The gardens are pretty. I want to show you that tree I named yesterday. I named it Marvin. He’s deeply underappreciated.”

And just like that, Chishiya took your hand.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

You stood, beaming, and between them both—between the woman who would kill for you and the man who already had—you looked like something holy.

Not even real.

And maybe that was the truth, you weren’t.

Outside that room—one no one passed by anymore, one no one asked about—Niragi stood leaning against the wall. The glossy black of his gun caught the dim light, just faintly.

He was waiting.

He hated waiting.

Footsteps approached—soft, slow. Niragi didn’t have to look. He knew who it was.

“About time.” he muttered, head still tilted back against the wall, one foot pressed up behind him. “What, you stop to brush your little Barbie hair before coming here?”

Chishiya appeared from around the corner, unhurried as always. “No.” he replied smoothly. “I just don’t have the kind of free time you do.”

Niragi scoffed, finally turning his head to look at him. For a second, neither of them moved. Then Niragi straightened. “I’m not going in without you.”

Chishiya raised a brow. “Oh? Getting sentimental?”

“No.” Niragi snapped. “I just don’t want to kill him too fast. I need someone to pull the leash.”

Chishiya didn’t laugh, but there was a curl of something at the corner of his lips. “Touching.”

When it came to you, their loathing for one another softened just enough to become something functional. You were the middle point. The flame. The obsession that neither of them had the ability—or the will—to escape.

Niragi opened the door.

The room smelled like sweat and blood, heavy and metallic. The same chair stood in the middle of it, and Akira was still tied down. Slumped forward now, one eye bruised shut, the corners of his mouth cracked and bleeding. His chest heaved when the door opened. He twitched slightly. It was unclear whether he was trembling from fear, pain, or simply the exhaustion of holding on.

“Miss us?” Niragi asked, stepping in like he lived there. “I missed your stupid fucking face.”

Chishiya walked in behind him, silent as a ghost. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. Just stood near the table, observing.

Akira raised his head. Or tried to. His voice was hoarse. “Fuck… you.”

“Cute.” Niragi said, kneeling in front of him and patting his cheek like a dog. “Still got bark. Too bad that mouth’s only good for talking about her.”

Akira flinched when Niragi leaned in closer.

“Idiot. Fucking idiot.” He stood again, grinning wide, unhinged. “You think she needs saving? She’s not some little porcelain doll. She’s not yours, never will be. If anyone gets to ruin her, it’s me.”

From behind him, Chishiya finally spoke, cold and dry: “Very romantic.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Niragi snapped without looking at him.

Akira looked at Chishiya now, or tried to. “You’re just standing there.” he rasped. “Letting him do this.”

Chishiya tilted his head. “You don’t understand. This is the kinder option.”

Niragi chuckled. “Aw, Chishiya. That almost sounded like loyalty.”

Chishiya ignored him. “Bugsy.” he said, calm, clinical. “You’re not really the problem. You’re just… in the way.”

And then, as if he were brushing lint off his shoulder, Niragi pulled the blade from his pocket and stabbed it into Akira’s thigh. Not the same spot. A new one. A slow, deep sink.

Akira screamed through clenched teeth.

“You ever think,” Niragi murmured, close to his ear. “that you’re not bleeding enough?”

Chishiya crossed his arms, glancing at the floor. “Try not to kill him. Yet.”

“I’m just decorating.” Niragi replied sweetly.

He twisted the blade once.

Akira’s breath hitched. His body convulsed against the ropes. But he wasn’t dead. Not yet. And they weren’t done. Not yet.

They weren’t going anywhere.

Not until this little piece of your puzzle was removed—slowly, painfully, and with precision.

“Shit, this guy screams.” Niragi snorted, stepping back from Akira with his knife still gleaming wet, like it was proud of its work. “You hear that pitch? That’s almost a soprano.”

Chishiya flicked a glance toward Niragi and said dryly, “You should consider a talent show. I’m sure The Beach would love to hear more of your vocal coaching methods.”

Akira groaned, trying to talk. Niragi crouched back down in front of him, elbows on his knees, face way too close. “Sorry, what was that? You wanna sing already? Say it louder, Bugsy boy.”

“Y-You’re insane.” Akira hissed through grit teeth, head trembling.

“Yeah?” Niragi beamed. “God, finally, someone who gets me.”

He stood back up and made a twirl, arms wide. “I’m insane, he says! Did you hear that, Chishiya?! Diagnosed! Guess we can pack it up now. Time to take me to the loony bin.”

Chishiya sighed, but the corners of his mouth twitched in that way that only showed when he was highly entertained. “If they ever find a loony bin that’ll take you, I’ll personally light the welcome sign.”

“Romantic and sweet.” Niragi grinned, tossing the knife in the air and catching it again with a snap. “This is why the girls love you.”

Akira’s head lolled against the chair. “She doesn’t love you. You think this is what she wants?”

That made Niragi stop. Just for a beat.

And then he threw his head back and laughed. A loud, broken sound, almost too loud for the room. “Oh, man. You really think this is about what she wants?” He turned back toward him, eyes so bright it was dizzying. “It’s about what she is. And she’s mine. Not because I told her, but because she chose it. That’s the fucking tragedy, right? That even with this—” he waved a hand at himself, like he was acknowledging every disgusting, vicious thing in him—“she still looks at me like I’m a sunrise.”

Chishiya’s gaze cut to Niragi at that.

“That’s not true.” Akira rasped, voice cracking. “She—she’s kind. She just doesn’t know what you are—”

“Oh, she knows.” Niragi interrupted, stepping closer again. “She knows, and she stays. She hugs me like I’m something soft. She touches my face like I won’t bite. You ever had that, Bugsy?” He leaned in close, smile twitching. “No. You never will.”

Niragi wiped a spot of blood off Akira’s cheek with his thumb, almost tender, before immediately slapping him across the face so hard the chair rocked.

“Oops.” Niragi said, grinning wide. “That one was just for fun.”

“Are you done?” Chishiya asked. “Some of us have things to do.”

“I’m the star of this bitch!” Niragi barked, laughing. “Let me shine!”

“No one is dimming that light.” Chishiya said flatly.

Akira’s head dropped. He was shivering now, either from blood loss or just pure disbelief that these two psychos had found each other. Bonded over you. Probably compared notes.

“You should be worried.” Akira said quietly.

Chishiya arched a brow. “About you?”

“No. About her.”

That… paused the room.

“What does that mean?” Niragi asked, still smiling, but there was something stiff in his jaw now.

“She’s not stupid.” Akira coughed. “She’s kind. You think she doesn’t know? What you are? What you’ve done? Both of you?” He looked up, bloody and worn. “She’s playing you. Both. You just don’t see it.”

Niragi took a slow breath. Then tilted his head.

“Chishiya.” he said, too casual. “Close the door.”

Chishiya didn’t question it. He stepped over and let the door shut with a soft, final click. Yes, the doors on the Beach were still unusable, but Chishiya was a crafty guy, wasn’t he? Now, the Beach had one door with an actual lock.

This one.

Niragi didn’t say another word. Just grinned, still, as he slid another blade—something smaller, thinner, shinier—off the table.

Bugsy had just bought himself another round.

A flash of metal in Niragi’s fingers, so sleek it almost shimmered. The kind of knife you use for small things. Delicate things. And somehow, that made it worse.

“Wanna say it again?” Niragi asked, crouching low and smiling wide, his voice light—too light. “That she’s playing me? That she’s too good for this? Go on. You were doing so well, Bugsy.”

Chishiya leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed. “You’re wasting your time trying to argue logic with someone who’s already made up his mind.” he said to Akira, voice clinical. “He doesn’t care if she’s using him. The delusion’s more fun.”

“Exactly.” Niragi cut in. He slid the tip of the knife slowly down Akira’s thigh, not cutting. Just teasing. Playing. His mouth still pulled in that same sick, gleeful smile as he spoke. “Let me tell you something, Bugsy. She could tell me to jump off the fucking roof and I’d do it. With a smile. You think that’s weak?” He leaned closer, eyes wide and glowing like wildfire. “That’s religion.”

Akira’s breath hitched. “She… she wouldn’t want this.”

Niragi chuckled, low and breathy. “She’s not here, is she?”

And then the blade slid in.

A clean, perfect slice—not too deep, but long. Across the side of Akira’s upper thigh, muscle splitting open like raw fruit. The chair jolted under the force of his scream.

Niragi didn’t flinch. He just kept watching, eyes steady, satisfied. His thumb smeared the blood like it was paint. “You ever cut a person the way you cut fabric?” he mused, almost academically. “It’s so soft. You don’t even need force, just the right angle. Don’t worry. I’m not killing you. Yet.”

Akira was panting hard now, barely coherent, sweat mixing with blood. “You’re… you’re monsters.”

“Of course we are.” Chishiya said flatly, stepping forward now. “But you knew that the moment you laid your hands on her.”

He knelt in front of Akira—not too close, just enough. That eerie calm never left his face. “Here’s what you don’t get.” he said softly. “She knows us. She knows exactly who we are. The damage. The blood. The manipulation. The fun.” His lips curled slightly. “And she still smiles at us.”

That, somehow, was the cruelest part.

Because it was true.

“You don’t get to talk about her.” Chishiya added. “Not anymore.”

Niragi stepped back, licking blood off his knuckles in a twitchy little habit. “I was gonna let you live.” he said conversationally. “Just hobble you a little. Maybe take a finger.” He looked down at Akira’s leg—split, leaking—and gave a mock gasp. “Oops! Too late.”

Akira laughed, or maybe sobbed. It was hard to tell. “You think she’s going to choose you?” he asked through gritted teeth, eyes bloodshot. “You think she’s going to love either of you? You’re delusional. She’s just… she’s kind. That’s it. That’s all.”

Something in Niragi’s face twitched at that. Just once. Then he turned to Chishiya. “How much longer are we keeping him?”

Chishiya tilted his head. “Until he learns not to speak.”

Niragi nodded. “Cool.”

He picked up a piece of wood—just a splintered chair leg lying nearby—and pressed it lightly to the cut on Akira’s thigh. “This might hurt.” he said, voice faux-sweet.

Then—he slammed it down.

The scream that tore from Akira’s mouth was feral. Chishiya didn’t even blink. Niragi just laughed like it was music.

The room reeked of blood and sweat. But Niragi, the monster he was, just looked satisfied. Happy even.

Chishiya watched him, quiet, calculating, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Not because of the violence.

But because Niragi, for all his fire and filth, was starting to resemble something dangerous in a new way:

A man with purpose.

A man in love.

Akira’s head hung low, his shoulders trembling, a pool of blood thickening around the chair legs. His thigh looked like a slab of meat from a butcher’s block. The worst part was how quiet he was now. Not unconscious. No, no. Just… broken. Bent into some terrible shape of himself. He was too drained to even cry.

“Alright.” Niragi said, cracking his neck. “This guy’s boring me.”

“Now?” Chishiya asked. Calm as ever. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking like he was discussing nothing more serious than a mild rain forecast.

“Yeah.” Niragi said, dragging his blade across his sleeve to clean it. “He’s not even fun anymore. I mean—look at him. What’s he even for now? He can’t walk, he can’t talk, he can’t even get your name right.” He squinted dramatically. “Bugsy? The fuck was that?”

Chishiya smirked. “I don’t think he was functioning at full capacity.”

“He was never functioning.” Niragi said, voice rising. “He was just a guy who thought touching her would be funny. Like he didn’t even get it.” He crouched again, tipping Akira’s chin up with the point of the knife. “You don’t get to treat her like a person. She’s not a person. She’s—” he paused, thinking, then let out a wheezy little laugh, “—a whole religion, man.”

Chishiya’s eyes flicked over. “You’ve said that already.”

“Because it’s fucking true!” Niragi barked. “You’d poison the water in here if she looked at you long enough. Don’t act like you’re any cleaner than me.”

Chishiya didn’t argue. He never did. He just stood there, watching Niragi with that cold gaze. But his silence wasn’t disinterest.

It was agreement.

“I mean,” Niragi went on, standing up again and pacing in a lazy circle. “we could kill him. But it’s also kinda fun having a pet.” He looked down at Akira again. “You like that, Bugsy? Being our little beach rat? No? Huh. Guess you’re not in a very ‘yes and’ mood today.”

Akira coughed, his voice hoarse. “You’re… insane.”

“Oh my god.” Niragi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s the eighth time someone’s called me that this week, get a new line!”

“He’s right though.” Chishiya said casually. “You are unwell.”

“And you’re a freak with a god complex.” Niragi shot back, grinning. “At least I’m not pretending to be emotionally unavailable.”

“I’m not pretending.” Chishiya said, almost offended.

Niragi laughed. “Sure you’re not. Anyway—” he leaned over and slapped Akira’s cheek lightly, then again, harder, just to see his head loll. “Wanna kill him tonight, or tomorrow?”

“It’s already tomorrow.”

“Shit. Then we’re late.”

They both stared at Akira.

Niragi tapped the flat of his blade against his palm thoughtfully. “We could just slit the throat. Quick, simple. Kinda boring.”

“I have chemicals.” Chishiya said mildly.

“You would.” Niragi snorted. “What are you gonna do, dissolve him in a bathtub?”

“Not all of us like to paint with people’s blood.”

“You’re missing out.” Niragi muttered, then perked up. “Hey. What if we let him go? Just to see what happens?”

Akira stirred, blinking through blood and sweat and some kind of miserable hope.

“Oh—oh my god.” Niragi gasped, laughing. “Did you believe that?”

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “Don’t tease him like that. He’s barely clinging to consciousness.”

“That’s what makes it funny!” Niragi said, grinning wide. “C’mon, you’ve gotta admit this has been a good time. Two guys. One Bugsy. I liked it.”

Chishiya actually huffed a small breath. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but it was the closest he got.

There was no punchline left in Akira.

Whatever light had burned behind his eyes, whatever flicker of hope or fear or just plain confusion—was gone. He slumped in the chair like a sack of broken parts. Breathing, but not really. Awake, but not present. Somewhere far off, deep inside his head, where this wasn’t happening. Where maybe you still looked at him like he was someone, not a smear of blood and piss and failure.

Niragi stretched his arms behind his head, spine cracking loud in the quiet.

“Alright.” he muttered. “We’re done.”

Chishiya didn’t reply. He stood across the room, expression unreadable as always, but still. Still there. Still watching. Still not leaving. Not stopping this, either. That was its own answer.

Niragi turned back to Akira, crouched in front of him, face close. His voice dropped low. Almost gentle.

“You don’t get a legacy, you know. You don’t get to be a name she remembers. No tragic backstory. No little candle of grief in her heart.”

He touched Akira’s cheek. A slow, thumb-stroke, like comfort.

“You’re just… subtraction.”

Akira flinched—barely—and Niragi smiled.

“You’ll be erased like a smudge on a window. Like you were never here.”

He stood. Then he pulled out the smaller knife. Not the flashier one he waved around before—this one was thinner. Cleaner. Surgical. No flair. Just death.

“Any last words?” Niragi asked, turning the blade in his fingers.

Akira didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

Chishiya tilted his head. “I think that’s a no.”

Niragi turned to him, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You wanna do it?”

Chishiya blinked. “You’re offering me the kill?”

“I’m not that greedy.”

Chishiya seemed to consider it. His fingers tapped a slow rhythm against his arm. And then he said, very flatly, “No.”

Niragi didn’t press it. He just stepped in again, moved the blade up under Akira’s jaw—and stopped. For a long beat, he simply stood there.

“I hated you on sight.” he said quietly. “Because you looked at her like she was for you.”

His voice dropped lower.

“She’s not.”

The knife dragged across Akira’s neck. A clean slice. Not messy, not frenzied. Just final.

A strangled gurgle followed, a twitch, a jerk. Blood pouring down his front in thick ropes. And then—stillness.

Chishiya didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. He only stepped forward to check the pulse. Gone.

“Well,” he said, glancing up. “you didn’t miss.”

“I never do.”

Niragi wiped the blade with care this time. Reverent, almost. Like it had done something sacred.

Because in his head, it had.

Because in his head, this was devotion. This was loyalty. This was the holy work of keeping you untouched by the ugly hands of men who didn’t understand. He didn’t do it for fun—though he’d still grin while it happened. He did it for you.

They did it for you.

You wandered through the hallways with no real destination. The resort was quieter now. Less laughter. More shadows stretching long. You wanted something to do—someone to talk to. So, you threw on a hoodie over your pretty little sleep set and padded barefoot down the floor. You turned a corner, the wide hallway yawning out into a larger space—

And then you froze.

There he was. Niragi.

Leaning against the doorframe of one of the rooms, arms crossed, cigarette tucked between two fingers. He looked untouched. Calm. But behind him—behind him, militants. Mops, buckets, bleach.

Two of them carrying a dead body. Slumped. Bloodied. Unmistakable.

Akira’s body.

At least… what was left of him.

Your stomach dropped.

He saw you.

You saw it.

His eyes locked on yours, that slow, evil grin pulling across his face, all smoke and blood and pride. His jaw flexed just once, like he was biting down a laugh.

“Night, baby.” he said lazily, dragging from the cigarette. One hand in his pocket. Just watching. Supervising.

You didn’t say anything at first. You were still trying to breathe. Trying to stitch together the obvious into something more survivable. Something that wasn’t what it clearly was.

“What… is this?” you asked. But your voice cracked halfway through. Not soft. Not angry. Just stripped.

Niragi cocked his head slightly, exhaled. Smoke curled like a noose between you.

“Cleanup.” he said casually. “Spring cleaning, I guess.”

He said, as the dead body was right in front of your eyes.

You took a step forward, then stopped again. Your arms were shaking. Your teeth clenched so tightly your head throbbed. “Don’t fuck with me, Niragi.”

“I’m not.” He looked over his shoulder at the men behind him. “Are we fucking with her?”

A few chuckles. One of the guys accidentally kicked a mop bucket.

Akira. Dead.

Your mouth parted. Your throat closed.

He was still watching you. The glint in his eyes was awful. Worse than cocky. It was satisfied.

You stepped back, heart trying to climb out your ribs. “You—oh my god. You really—you actually—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. “What the fuck did you do?!” you took a step back. “Are you—? Are you insane?” Your voice cracked, breaking somewhere between disbelief and fury. “Is this—was this—you did this?”

He didn’t deny it. He just took a step forward. You stumbled one back.

“Niragi, leave me the fuck alone—”

“Oh, come on.” he cut in, stepping again, his smirk sharpening as your panic grew. “You don’t get to act all shocked. You knew what this place was. You think we survive here by playing nice?”

“He liked me!” Your voice was shaking. “You did this because he liked me—!”

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, and he scoffed. “No. I did this because he touched what he shouldn’t have.”

Your eyes burned, and it wasn’t just from the blood you’d seen. It was everything. The night. The tension. The way he looked at you now—like a wolf who didn’t regret the sheep’s throat it tore out.

“You’re disgusting.” you said.

Niragi raised his brows, grinning. “Yeah.”

You couldn’t breathe for a second. Couldn’t think. Your hands clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as if pain could ground you.

Niragi took one casual step forward. Just one.

You pointed at him, hand trembling. “Don’t.”

His eyes softened. “You mad at me, baby?”

“I’m telling you to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh?” He blinked, almost hurt. “That how you talk to people who love you?”

Your entire body flushed with rage and confusion. “Don’t you dare—”

He cut you off, voice low. “He touched you. You let him touch you.”

“I—” You nearly choked. “That’s not a fucking reason.”

“It was for me.”

You took another shaky step back. “This is insane. You’re—this is fucked up.”

“At least you know.” he said simply, and turned his back to you.

Just like that. Conversation over.

Dismissed.

You stared at his back, breath caught in your throat, your heartbeat cracking like glass.

The militants kept working. The air smelled like bleach and old rot and something more bitter—something deeper.

And you? You turned, slowly, slowly, and walked away—half running by the end of it, not sure where to go, not sure if the shiver in your spine was horror or some sick recognition.

He loved you.

And you’d just seen what that meant.

What the fuck.

You didn’t walk back to your room. You ran.

Heart in your throat, breath ragged and quick, echoing halls like the walls were closing in. The blood hadn’t even dried on the back of your retinas yet. Akira’s face—what was left of it—kept flashing behind your eyelids with every blink. You didn’t know if you were gasping or sobbing or choking on your own disbelief, but your hands trembled like they weren’t your own, like your body had betrayed you along with everything else in this fucking world.

Your door was cracked open.

Chishiya was there.

He was sitting on the edge of your couch, posture relaxed like he’d been waiting. His eyes lifted the moment you entered—those impossible, unreadable eyes—and in the quiet of your room, your walls cracked completely.

“Chishiya—”

Your voice was a small, broken thing.

You didn’t even give him time to ask.

You ran to him, collapsed into him—not quite a hug, not quite full contact, but you gripped at the hem of his hoodie, shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. He just… held you. Palms flat against your sides, gentle, grounding pressure. It wasn’t emotional. It wasn’t soft. But he knew you needed it.

“I-I—I saw it—” you gasped, the words tumbling over each other, your throat closing up with every syllable. “It was him—he—Niragi—he killed him—he killed Akira—”

Chishiya’s grip didn’t falter. But his gaze settled over your shoulder like he was memorizing every breath you took.

“I just wanted to go for a walk.” you whispered, still clutching him. “I just—couldn’t sleep—and then—god, Chishiya, there was so much blood—”

He didn’t shush you. Didn’t speak over you. He let you cry. Let you talk. Let you press your fragile, unraveling heart into his presence like he was your last safe place on earth.

Because how could he not?

How could he not when you were this soft thing?

How could he not when you trusted him so blindly, so genuinely, that you didn’t even suspect for a moment that his hands—the same ones now steadying you—had been tied to the chair that held Akira down?

He didn’t lie, but he didn’t confess either. Because you didn’t ask. And maybe… maybe a part of him hated that you didn’t.

Because you should have.

But god, how you shattered like glass in his hands—how pure and furious and betrayed your voice had sounded when you said Niragi’s name. Like you still believed there was good and bad in this world. Like you weren’t already neck-deep in the rot with the rest of them.

He watched you sob like the world had ended.

You sniffled hard, rubbing the sleeve of your hoodie against your eyes like it could erase everything. As if Akira’s face wasn’t carved into the back of your skull.

And all the while, Chishiya sat still beneath your touch. Quiet. Steady. Until he spoke.

“We tied him up last night.”

You froze.

The words landed like a needle to your spine. You pulled your head away from him just slightly, but his voice didn’t waver.

“He said some things.” Chishiya continued calmly, his eyes following yours. “About you.”

“What—?” you breathed. “What are you saying?”

Chishiya didn’t stand. He didn’t reach for you again. He just sat there, watching you. “I’m saying that Niragi and I handled it.” he said simply. “He’s not going to be a problem anymore.”

You stood up so fast it was like the air burned.

“You—” The breath choked in your throat. You stumbled back, one step, two. “You? You did that? You were there?”

He nodded once. Not regretful. Not cruel. Just… truthful.

You stared at him like you didn’t recognize him anymore. But the worst part was—you did. You knew this part of him existed. Somewhere in the corners of that beautiful, hollowed-out brain, you knew. And maybe that was what hurt the most.

“You… let me cry to you—you let me—god, I told you what I saw—” Your voice cracked, rising into something that scraped your throat raw. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I was waiting to see how much you’d let yourself believe.”

You blinked at him, lips parting—but the sob that came out wasn’t a sound anymore. It was an ache.

Your knees nearly gave. Your whole body trembled. You backed toward the door like he might reach out and take something else from you—but Chishiya never moved. He just watched.

You looked so heartbreakingly beautiful like that. Face red, tear-streaked. Disbelief shining in your eyes like dying stars.

He almost said sorry.

But then, the door creaked open behind you.

Niragi leaned against the doorframe, one hand still on the knob, the other stuffed lazily in his pocket. His gaze dropped instantly to you.

And oh. The smile that pulled at his lips when he saw you like this.

Red-eyed. Tear-dripping. Hoodie hanging off one shoulder like a child who’d just been caught crying in the rain.

“You tell her?” he asked, flicking a glance at Chishiya like they were discussing a math problem. “Nice.”

“Get out.” you breathed. “Get—get out—”

“Oh, princess.” Niragi said lowly, stepping in without hesitation. “Don’t do that. Don’t look at me like you didn’t fucking know I was capable of this.”

He walked past you slowly—so close his shoulder brushed yours—and you froze like your nerves had been cut. Your tears kept falling, but your chest was tight now. Your throat was sealed.

You didn’t move when he turned to you, one brow arched. You just stared at the space between them. These two monsters. These two men who knew you better than anyone—who watched over you, stood beside you, loved you in their sick, twisted, broken ways—and still spilled blood behind your back.

For you.

They didn’t say it, but you knew.

“Don’t cry over him.” Niragi said simply. “He wasn’t shit.”

They knew what they’d done. And they didn’t regret it.

The silence was thick. Heavy. Your breath hitched around the lump in your throat, that aching, wet pressure that made your whole face feel too small for the emotions in it. You didn’t cry loud anymore. It had quieted into trembling shoulders, shuddering inhales. Like you were trying not to break the glass cage around you, trying not to scream and shatter everything.

You turned your back to them. You didn’t want them to see how beautiful you looked in grief.

And oh, you were. Even now—like something from a painting left in the rain. Gorgeous, fragile, so good even now, even after finding out the truth. A truth you probably always knew deep down, in some dreamy little corner of your pink-tinted world, but tried to ignore. You wanted to believe in people. You wanted to believe they could be better. And that was what ruined them both.

Chishiya watched your back, his hands steepled together in front of him like he was trying to contain something inside himself. Not guilt—he didn’t do guilt. But something rawer, more hidden.

And Niragi—he wasn’t even pretending to be sorry. He stood there with a scowl half-formed on his lips, eyes tracing your body like he needed to memorize every inch of you again just in case you slipped away.

“Say something.” you whispered, still not looking at them. Your voice cracked.

“Like what?” Niragi muttered. “You want a fucking apology?”

“Yes!” you shouted suddenly, spinning around to face them, cheeks hot and wet and your fists curled like you could do anything against them. “Yes! Or—or something! Something that shows you give a fuck!”

Niragi opened his mouth—but it was Chishiya who stood up first. Quietly. Slowly.

“No.” Chishiya said. “You don’t want an apology.”

You blinked at him.

“You want to believe that maybe we still have enough soul left to be good for you. But it’s not about that.” He looked right at you now. “It’s about whether you can accept who we are.”

Your bottom lip trembled. Your heart thrashed. The ache inside your chest felt volcanic, erupting hot behind your ribs. “I liked him. As—as a fucking friend.” you whispered.

No one said anything for a moment.

Then Niragi scoffed. “Bullshit. You knew him for, what, a few days?” he laughed, bitter and cruel and furious. “And what, he smiled at you once? Called you cute? That’s enough to make you cry like this?”

He stepped forward, jaw tight.

“Meanwhile, I’ve—” He stopped. Bit back whatever violent truth was about to spill out of him. “We’ve been beside you for weeks. Watching you. Protecting you. Loving you.”

The word hung there. And neither of them corrected it.

You blinked again. Tears still leaked from the corners of your eyes, but your face softened—just barely.

“You think this is love?” you whispered, voice hoarse. “Hurting people for me? Killing people?”

“Yes.” Niragi said, instantly. No hesitation.

You didn’t speak. Didn’t cry more. You just looked… lost.

But Chishiya moved closer then. Not quite touching you. Close enough to feel his presence.

“I’ll never ask you to forgive it.” he said. “But I won’t lie to you about it either.”

You turned your face toward him. “You already lied.” you whispered. “You watched me cry about him. You were gentle with me.”

“And I meant it.” he said. “I am gentle with you.”

That—that—was what undid you. You sank down onto the edge of the bed, slowly, like your legs gave out from the weight of it all. The betrayal, the horror, the aching, fucked up affection.

They were monsters.

But they were your monsters.

And as messed up as it was, there was some part of your broken, frayed heart that still fluttered at the way they looked at you now—like a shrine, like a god, like the only untouchable thing in this entire nightmare world.

You looked lost. And for the first time in a long while, neither of them tried to fix it. Because they knew they’d already broken it.

“You ran from me?” Niragi snapped suddenly. “After everything I’ve fucking done for you?”

You couldn’t answer. Not yet. Not when the lump in your throat made it hard to breathe.

“You told me to leave you the fuck alone.” he spat your words back at you, voice rising now, uncoiling. “After all the times I’ve—what? Stood in the back so you could sit in my fucking chair? After I didn’t lay a hand on you at that meeting even though you looked so—” He cut himself off and let out a noise like a scoff, but it was bitter. So bitter it tasted like blood.

You backed up instinctively when he stepped forward, like you were trying to keep the peace, even in your tiny pink bikini bottoms and oversized sweater. Still trembling. Still trying to be good.

“Don’t.” Chishiya said from behind you. Calm, but edged.

That made Niragi laugh. Actually laugh. Sharp, sharp, sharp.

“Oh please, you think she’s gonna run to you after this? That you’re the safe one?” Niragi barked out another cruel chuckle. “We fucking did this together. You and me. Bugsy, or whatever the fuck his name was. She just doesn’t like when I’m the one who makes it messy.”

Then, without warning, he reached for something—your little bag sitting on the dresser. You barely had time to register what he was doing before he threw it, full force, at the wall.

It hit with a loud crack. Lipsticks scattered. Your tiny little perfume bottle shattered. Your brush, the one with the rhinestones, skidded under the bed. And you gasped, instinctively running over to the pieces like it was your pet that had been hurt.

Niragi was pacing now, hands in his hair. Breathing like a feral animal. His arms tense, twitching. His chest rising too fast, and it was that thing again: where he wanted to tear the walls down if it meant you’d crawl back into his arms to soothe him.

“You liked when I was like this!” he snarled, voice cracking. “You liked it when I bit you! You liked it when I grabbed you! You never said no!”

“You’re—you’re not the only one who gets to hurt! I liked you. I like you, but you—you killed someone. And you didn’t even flinch.” you yelled back. Loud, trembling, eyes glassy. Your voice broke and came out half a sob.

He stopped. Just for a second.

That was the wound. Not the crying. Not the shaking. Not Chishiya standing silent. No, that—the idea that you still liked him, but this ruined it—that’s what cut.

“Yeah.” Niragi said, voice going hollow now. “I didn’t flinch. You know why?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words. Not with your wide, stunned stare. Not with the way your fingers curled into the hem of your own sweater like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Because I knew I’d do worse if it meant no one ever got to hurt you first.” His voice had lost all its anger. All that was left was steel. Cold steel. “I’d do it again, and again. And again. Because someone has to be the fucked up one if you’re gonna stay all pink and shiny and dumb about bugs and frogs and love.”

You stared. You couldn’t stop shaking.

Chishiya stepped forward finally, slowly, deliberately. Still calm, but with something brewing beneath it now. Something that read enough.

Niragi looked between you two.

And then—fuck off—he turned around and punched the closet door. Hard. The whole room rattled, and for a second you thought he’d broken his hand. But he just leaned there for a beat, breathing hard, forehead pressed to the cracked wood.

No one spoke.

And then he left.

Didn’t look at you. Didn’t say another word. Just left the door wide open behind him.

And you, the one everyone wanted, stood in the middle of the wreckage—pink, shaking, with perfume on your hands and a heart too good for this place. You didn’t even realize you were crying again until Chishiya walked toward you and started helping you pick up the pieces. One by one.

Wordlessly.

Because he knew now: no matter how much of the blood he washed off, he still had it on his hands. And you had nothing. Just love. Always just love.

“Thank you.” you whispered.

Your voice cracked so gently, it almost didn’t sound like speech at all. Like something spilling. Barely a noise. But still—still—you said it. Thank you. For what? For helping you gather the scattered pieces of a life that had just been kicked across the floor? For not yelling? For not being Niragi?

Chishiya didn’t look at you right away. He was crouched beside your vanity, picking up a lip liner. Quiet. Slow. You could feel him thinking. Or maybe just choosing not to. That was his thing, wasn’t it? Pick up the facts. Leave the feelings out.

But you were all feelings.

“I mean it.” you said again, softer now. Kneeling across from him, brushing your hair out of your face with the back of your trembling hand. “For helping.”

He set the liner down in the little pile of broken things between you. “You’re thanking me?”

You nodded. Just once.

Chishiya watched you like you were breaking open in front of him—porcelain skin, flushed eyes, the streaks on your cheeks still wet. You didn’t cry like people cried. It was too delicate. Too quiet. You didn’t sob or scream. You just… dripped. Silently. Like a tap someone forgot to shut off. And somehow, that was worse.

“You’re still kind.” he said quietly, as if he couldn’t believe it.

You gave him a tired, tiny smile. It was hollow. “Yeah.”

And that was it. That was the soft bell that rang the end of the night. Because your voice was sweet, and your fingers were still gentle as you scooped rhinestones back into your broken bag. But there was no glitter left in your tone. No sparkle. No sparkle in your eyes. Just exhaustion. Just grief, clean and clear and heavy.

You didn’t say, I don’t want you here. You weren’t built for that kind of cruelty. You just said, “You should go.” Simple. Soft. Like you were protecting him from yourself.

Chishiya didn’t argue. He stood slowly, watched you for a long second as if trying to memorize the new version of you—this dulled, dimmed version. You didn’t look up. Didn’t ask him to stay. And he didn’t say he was sorry. Because he wasn’t.

But for a moment—just one—he reached out. Fingers brushed against your cheek, knuckles feather-light. Like he wanted to apologize with something wordless. Like he wished he hadn’t been part of what broke you.

And then he left. No sound. No goodbye. Just silence and the click of the door behind him.

And you, alone now, knelt on your floor, with a handful of lipsticks and a wet face and a chest so tight you thought it might cave in.

God, even your sweater felt too big on you.

You didn’t move.

Not for a while. Not after Chishiya left. Not after the door clicked. You just stayed there—kneeling on the carpet, your broken things around you, your chest heaving too quietly to be called sobs but too violently to be anything else.

It started as a breath.

And then the breath broke.

And then you broke.

“I didn’t do anything.” you whispered.

Your hands clutched the soft sweater at your chest. “I didn’t do anything.”

You said it again. “I didn’t do anything.” A little louder this time. As if volume could make it true. As if it could roll back the night and take you back to before the blood and the lies and the screaming and Niragi’s fucking laughter while he ripped through your things.

“I didn’t do anything.”

You said it again. And again. Until your voice cracked down the middle and turned into a scream caught in your throat. Until your hands were fists in your hair. Until you were rocking back and forth on the floor with no idea how long you’d been doing it.

“I didn’t—I didn’t—do—anything—”

Your voice hiccupped into a sob. You pulled at your own sleeves like they were going to come off your skin, like you could tear it all away, the warmth, the affection, the softness they all used like weapons.

You were kind. You were kind. You were so kind.

And they killed someone.

They killed someone and then they came back to you. They came back and sat on your couch and took your blankets and held you like they weren’t murderers.

And you let them.

You fucking let them.

You folded forward, arms around your middle, pressing your cheek to the floor. The coldness there felt real. It felt like something. It was the only real thing left in this room—besides the pain. The pain felt real too. You could taste it. You could drown in it.

You clawed at the carpet like you were trying to find a trapdoor to fall through.

“I was good.” you whispered, and you said it again. “I was good. I was good. I was good.”

Your voice was a ghost of itself, an echo in an empty room. You weren’t sure if you were speaking anymore or if the words were just pouring out of you like blood. You kept saying it anyway.

“I was good. I was good.”

You threw the nearest thing—a hairbrush—across the room. It hit the wall and fell limp like everything else around you. Nothing made a sound. Nothing responded.

Your mascara was running into your mouth. Your throat tasted like salt and sweat. And your hands, your hands—they looked wrong.

You stared at them for a while. Just stared.

As if they could tell you what to do now.

As if they could explain why kindness didn’t save anyone.

But they were just hands. Small. Pretty. Shaking.

You curled into yourself. Laid down on the floor with your knees to your chest. Silent now. The crying came in waves, and you were in the part after the wave breaks—when you’re not sure if the water’s going out or if it’s just gathering itself to crush you again.

The room spun. Or maybe you did.

“I was good.” you whispered again.

And this time, it didn’t even sound like your voice anymore.

You’d like to die a little.

Niragi slammed his door so hard it bounced back open. Didn’t matter. He didn’t notice.

He was already ripping the lamp off the wall, the cord snapping out like a whip before the ceramic smashed against the floor.

A chair went next. Splintered. Kicked. Stomped. The bedframe took a bullet to the head when his gun came out shaking in his grip, his finger locked on the trigger like it could stop the ache in his ribs if he just kept firing.

Bang.

Clothes, pillows, whatever the fuck—torn through. His table flipped. A mirror cracked from corner to corner. His reflection twisted with it. And he laughed.

He walked across the wreckage, grabbing the ashtray off the windowsill, threw it without looking. The wall caught it. Shards flew.

A bottle went next. His favorite one. The good one. The one he kept for when he wanted to taste something other than blood and sweat. Gone. Shattered. Pooling amber across the floor like spilled guts.

He didn’t care.

He’d fucking shoot it too if it looked at him wrong.

His chest rose and fell like it was about to explode. Gun still in hand. His other one fisting the collar of his shirt, pulling it hard enough to choke himself. Hard enough to tear something. Maybe skin. Maybe soul.

He turned and kicked the wall.

Again.

He was yelling at himself now.

Because this wasn’t about anything anymore. Not the guy they took out. Not Chishiya. Not the game. Not The Beach.

This was about you.

About you on the floor of your room with your cheeks wet and your voice cracking. About the way your eyes looked at him like he was a monster—finally. Finally. Like you saw him.

And it hurt.

It fucking hurt.

“Because of a girl.” he spat, to no one, to the mirror, to himself.

He spun, kicked the edge of the broken dresser. The wood cracked. So did something in his ankle. He didn’t flinch.

A scream clawed out of him. Nothing intelligible. Nothing sane. Just raw, throat-stripping fury and grief in the shape of sound.

His chest heaved.

He dropped the gun.

Let it clatter at his feet.

Stood there with his hands in his hair, pulling, pulling like he wanted to rip the feeling of you out of his brain. Out of his bloodstream. Out of his bones.

You. You. You.

He hated everyone.

But not you.

He could never hate you.

He wanted to wake up next to you. He wanted to hold your wrist and feel your pulse. He wanted to hurt every single person who looked at you twice. He wanted you to smile at him again. Just once. Just one fucking more time.

But he broke it.

He broke you.

He sank to the floor, back against the wall, legs sprawled out like a dead man. Breathing like it hurt. Hands slack on the floor, the blood from a split knuckle staining it. His lip was bleeding too. He didn’t remember when that happened.

And he laughed again.

Choked on it.

“I fucking miss you.” he whispered.

To no one.

To everything.

To you.

Chishiya sat alone on his balcony. The sky was the color of an old bruise—cloudless, starless, quiet. And below him, The Beach pulsed faintly with life. Drunk laughter. A splash at the pool. Music bleeding out from someone’s cracked window.

He hated them.

All of them.

But he watched anyway.

Watched as they stumbled around, flickering, too stupid.

He didn’t smoke. He didn’t drink. He didn’t distract himself. He just sat there, chin tipped forward, eyes half-lidded. Empty. But thinking. Always thinking.

Was it worth it?

The answer: yes.

Akira—or Bugsy or whatever name he wore—was a variable. A threat. A man who looked at you like you were his second chance at light, and maybe that was what made Chishiya’s stomach twist the most. Because there was something almost innocent in it. Something real.

And that meant danger.

So yes. It was worth it.

And still.

He blinked slowly, vision catching on the faint glow of a paper lantern down near the edge of the courtyard. A girl passed beneath it, not you, but his brain flickered for a second and filled in your silhouette anyway. That softness. That warmth.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, head tilted to the side against the wall.

You were in his mind again.

No, that wasn’t right.

You lived there now.

Like a breath he didn’t take. Like a word he didn’t say.

And it was strange, wasn’t it? Because he didn’t believe in things like guilt. Or longing. Or devotion. But he believed in you.

He’d seen the way you stood in rooms—how people orbited you like moons around some perfect sun. How even the most violent men softened around you. How Kuina looked at you like she wished you’d look back. How Niragi hovered behind you like a wolf pretending he wasn’t starving.

And Chishiya…

He wasn’t soft. He wasn’t starving. But still—he’d let you pull him in. With that smile. With those questions. With your affection. You never stopped talking, never stopped looking at him like he was more than what he was.

And now you knew. Now you saw him. A piece of the truth. The same way you’d seen Niragi.

Was that what love looked like?

The way you’d fallen apart in front of him? The way he didn’t reach to stop you from backing away? Was that love?

He wanted to say no. He wanted to file it away, clean and logical. A cause. An effect. A necessary operation.

But his chest ached anyway.

The mission—your safety—your future—that was all supposed to come first. He and Niragi had done what needed to be done. And yet, the way you cried in that room… how your voice cracked when you told him to leave, when you thanked him anyway, soft and broken—it twisted something inside him that had never twisted before.

Was that what love looked like?

Letting you grieve because you needed it, even if it meant you’d hate him? Letting you fall apart alone, because you deserved to know what happened? Letting you push him away, even if all he wanted was to stay?

He didn’t know. Not really. But he knew this:

He missed you.

Missed the way you clung to his sleeve. Missed the way you always included him in the conversation, even when he gave you nothing back. Missed your soft fingers brushing his wrist. Missed the quiet way you said his name, like it meant something. Like a prayer. Like you believed in him. No one had ever said it like that. And no one ever would again. Unless—

He sat forward, elbows on his knees now, fingers laced.

Would he fix it?

Would he try?

He wasn’t sure.

But he did know Niragi was unraveling. That violence only got worse when Niragi felt abandoned. That his madness had always been stitched together by the thinnest threads—and you were one of them.

You were the one.

And Chishiya…Chishiya was supposed to be the rational one. But he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Because the idea of you never looking at him like that again—never brushing against him like a breeze, never calling his name in that quiet voice again—it felt like losing something he never had before. Which was true.

Maybe this was love.

Maybe this was how it started. With blood. With silence. With the sound of your tears echoing in his skull long after you’d stopped crying.

He leaned back again. Stared up at the black sky. No stars. But he still looked.

You laid curled up on your floor, knees to chest, arms around yourself like they could keep anything together. Your eyes were open, dry, but your throat ached from crying, and you hadn’t said a word in hours.

You didn’t talk to yourself anymore. You didn’t hum. You didn’t make little lists in your head.

You thought about the way things used to feel, and how you’d give anything just to feel stupid again.

You wanted to die, not in some dramatic way—just quietly. Softly. Like a candle going out.

You were so loved, weren’t you? So loved it hurt.

And now that love was a rot.

Niragi laid on his floor like he was dead, one arm over his eyes, one hand twitching around nothing.

Every little object was thrown all around the room, his shirt somewhere he couldn’t remember throwing it.

He hadn’t smoked. He hadn’t moved.

He’d screamed himself hoarse earlier. No one came. He didn’t want them to.

He thought about the sound of your voice telling him to get out.

He thought about how he loved you more than anyone had any right to love anything.

And how that ruined you.

He wanted to die, but only if it meant being born again in a world where he got to meet you first.

Chishiya sat on the edge of his bed now, spine straight, hands slack between his knees. There were no tears. There never were. But he hadn’t moved in over an hour. He was thinking, which was normal—but the thoughts weren’t clean anymore. They spiraled, overlapped.

You haunted the corners of his room, like a warmth that had left.

He could still feel the tremble of your body in his hands when you cried.

He wanted to die, in the sense that he wanted this part of himself—this mess, this ache, this softness—gone.

He wasn’t made for tenderness. But you were.

And now you weren’t talking to him either.

You clutched a sweater that didn’t belong to you, something soft that still smelled like someone else. You weren’t sure whose. Kuina’s? Niragi’s? Chishiya’s? It didn’t matter. It was something warm and not yours.

You stared at the door.

You hoped it would open.

You hoped it wouldn’t.

Niragi punched the wall again. Not hard. Just to feel something.

He hated himself for breaking you.

He hated Chishiya for being part of it.

He hated. So much.

Chishiya stared at his hands. They had blood under the nails still. From Akira. He didn’t care.

He used to believe in numbers. Strategy. Distance.

You ruined that.

Now he believed in grief.

Niragi whispered something against his own arm. Over and over.

It sounded like your name.

It might have been an apology.

It might have been nothing at all.

Chishiya heard movement from the halls. He didn’t care to look. He already knew it wouldn’t be you.

He wished it was.

Just a step. A single word.

Anything.

He would have taken anything.

You stared up at your ceiling.

You wondered if they missed you too.

All three of you breathing, quiet, broken, in different corners of The Beach.

None of you sleeping.

None of you healing.

All of you alone.

Waiting.

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii @potato-vagina @cherryyserenade @l5byrinth @soaplickerrr @sillyenemyarcade @miellette @sk1ndx0

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

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 3 months ago

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AIB Boys + You cant sleep | HCS

Warnings: SFW - Banda's part its dark -

♡ Arisu

Arisu its a heavy sleeper but one that needs to cuddle you. So when he feels his arms empy he blinks and wakes up still half sleep when he does not see you on the bed.

He gets worried and goes to look for you, he ends finding you in the living room using your phone and looking like a zombie.

He will ask you if something is wrong. If something is wrong then he will offer to talk or just make you company but Will beg to return to bed. If you tell him you are just not tired and left so the phone light would not bother him he will tell you to please go back to the bed so he can cuddle you. He assures you he can sleep with the phone light but not if you are not there.

♡ Chishiya

Light sleeper. Notices you are not in bed a few minutes after you leave. He goes to look for you rubbing his eyes. He ends finding you watching TV and eating something. When he asks you whats wrong or if you cant sleep he will offer you some medication he has or some tea (still prefers medication). If you tell him you are overthinking and having a rough time then he tries his best to be supportive. But Will take away your food since 4 a.m. its not a good hour to eat.

♡ Karube

Finds you in the kitchen making yourself some tea and asks whats wrong. You two probably had a long night at the Bar and the sun is getting out by now. Karube knows you usually sleep till 11 a.m. at least. So something must be happening. Maybe you are too stressed or still with your adrenaline up. Karube will sit at the kitchen table with you and just talk till you are too tired to keep up with him.

♡ Tatta

This boy ends looking for you like a puppy. And basically lets himself fall besides you on the sofa. He can fall asleep anywhere and once he is sleep his brain will just focus on sleep and return to sleep.

He may try to talk you and make you go back to bed but ends falling asleep besides you.

♡ Niragi

Gets up and thinks you left because he cant find you. Finds you once you leave the bathroom and asks you whats wrong. After you tell him you just cant sleep he will make you go back to bed and play some soft music for you.

♡ Banda Sunato

You probably cant sleep because you are afraid of him or too hurt from earlier since he can be rough with his victims.

Honestly ? He does not care and its better if he does not notice you are not sleeping. If he notices it be ready to taunting and mocking from him. He its not sweet or supportive at all.

♡ Yaba Oki

Has a reunion at 8am so when he hears you on the aparment he is half annoyed half worried.

Ends looking for you and finds you just...making breakfast ? At 3 a.m.? Its confused as hell but thinks its cute. Insists that you need to sleep and that he can deal with the meeting well and you dont need to worry for him.

♡ Kuzuryu

He is tired as hell when he wakes up and goes to look for you around the aparment.

Finds you reading a book so he offers to read to you for a bit (but only if you go back to bed). He ends more tired but happy once he sees your sleepy face.

♡ Aguni

Gets worried someone broke in and did something to you. Almost breaks your arm when you touch his shoulder in the dark. Ends feeling terrible because of it.

Turns out you could not sleep and did not warn to bother him since he opens his flower shop early. However he tells you that you can wake him up if you need it since he has deal with how own nights as a owl and sucks to be alone.

Gets you a gift since he almost broke your arm.

#alice in borderland #aib imagine #aib imagines #alice in borderland x reader #arisu x reader #chishiya x reader #karube x reader #tatta x reader #niragi x reader #kuzuryu x reader #yaba oki x reader #Banda Sunato x reader #aguni x reader

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j-jinxee · 3 months ago

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-,' ♱ — :: blowjobs with niragi !

!! — very nsfw

-,' ♱ — niragi's room was filled with nothing but broken moans and the smell of sex. your head spinning from the lack of oxygen,, all your senses filled so heavily with him. the taste of his cum in your mouth,, the scent of his faded cologne,, the blurry sight of him above you — using your pretty mouth for pleasure and nothing more.

-,' ♱ — his pace is sporadic and random,, but very intense. his tip touching the back of your throat with every thrust,, hands entangled in your hair while he forces your head down,, nose kissing his pelvis.

-,' ♱ — it takes hours before he goes soft,, usually cumming about four times before needing a break — and when he cums,, he cums alot. spilling down your throat fast,, ready for you to swallow it all.

-,' ♱ — saliva litters your chin,, he likes it messy after all. your own slick leaking out of you so intensely,, literally dripping onto the floor — the only thing on you being your loose bikini top. your core aches with arousal so intensely,, you have to touch yourself.

-,' ♱ — 'absolutely not — fucking slut' he spits,, his hands going down to grab yours and hold them together. 'not yet baby,, ill get to you soon — just keep fucking going' he says,, neck angling back again as he cums for the fourth time tonight.

-,' ♱ — 'your turn pretty,, cmon — get up' you weakly situate yourself onto the bed,, knees sore from the floor's friction. before you even adjust to the elevation change,, his fingers slide inside you — with such ease,, due to how much sweet juice your pussy's spilling.

-,' ♱ — he won't make you suck him off again tonight,, but you'll request to. he makes you feel so good,, you just wanna make him feel good in return — resulting in a long night of pleasure ᡣ𐭩

─────

ᯓ lalalala so sorry it's been so long,, tq for all the support on my past aib fics ! currently tryna finish some enha fics just to have more of my work out :3 anyways yea,, cya luv ya x

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maxinehufflepuffprincess · 3 months ago

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Jack of Hearts

Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader x Niragi Suguru.

(It's finally here. I am so sorry for the long wait, and I am praying this is worth the wait. I'm hoping it lives up to expectations. Please enjoy and have fun reading.

Masterlist. Progress Update. Love Line Collection.

Summary: Niragi, you and Chishiya play the Jack of Hearts game.

After being separated from Arisu, Kuina, Usagi, Ann and Tatta during the King of Spades games, you, Chishiya and Niragi had found a place to hide. It was a moment for the three of you to breathe. During your time hiding, you discussed where to go next. Niragi originally wanted to go to the King of Clubs, but Chishiya felt a pull to the Jack of Hearts. With you being the deciding vote, the three of you made your way to the Jack of Hearts game, promising to join the King of Clubs game if no one had beaten it by the time you were done.

The three of you arrived at the prison and walked inside. Some collars on a table greeted you. You each took one and put it on. You shivered as it clicked into place. You hated this already. The three of you made your way to the central guardroom. On your way there, a noise came from one of the cells. Niragi let out a snort as you blushed. “Oh, good lord.” Chishiya smirked.

“You know, we could always find a cell of our own and have some fun before the game.” Niragi suggested with a grin on his face. As much as you may have liked the idea, now wasn’t the time. “Don’t you think of anything else?” Chishiya asked, his hands in his pockets, turning to face Niragi. Niragi scoffed at him. “Don’t be like that. It’s good to let off some steam.” Niragi countered. You let out a soft sigh. “After the game, sure. But for now, let’s focus.” You said, and with that, the three of you continued to walk. Inside the guardroom area were a few people. Chichiya leant against a wall. You stood beside him, taking in your surroundings. Niragi stood slightly in front of the two of you. The three of you were there for a while. Watching as more people arrived. Then, finally, the final player appeared. Chishiya let out a small sigh.

“Difficulty level, Jack of Hearts.” “Game, Solitary Confinement.” “Rules: Guess the car suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you may not look at the symbol yourself.”

“I can’t see anything.” A woman on the opposite side of the room spoke as she and everyone else pulled and felt their collars. A woman near her walked over, attempting to look at the collar.

“The time limit is one hour per round. In the final five minutes, enter your cell and disclose your symbol.”

The lights came on, showing the endless number of hallways where all the cells were. You bit your bottom lip softly. Thank the heavens you had two people you trusted with everything you had. Or else, you fear you would have been doomed.

“If you do not answer with the correct symbol, it is game over. The collar will explode, and you will die. Additionally, when the time limit reaches zero, the symbol on the collar will reset and change for each round.”

“Wait a sec. So that means we just have to ask each other what our symbols are.” A voice came close to where the three of you were stranded. “That’s easy.” He nodded as he turned to look at Chishiya, who was still leaning against the wall.

“I’m not so sure.” The blonde spoke. “They haven’t told us what the conditions to win are yet.”

“The Solitary confinement game is about how much you can trust your fellow players. Be aware that your opponent, the Jack of Hearts, has already been placed among you.”

“Oh. That’s good.” Chishiya spoke, causing you to look at him. You could see he was intrigued with this game. You looked over at Niragi, who simply shrugged at you. He had no worries. He trusted you both. He knew the three of you were walking out of this place alive and together.

“So one of us is the Jack of Hearts?” A random man asked.

“How to win: Rounds repeat every hour. You win the game when the Jack of Hearts dies.” “Prohibited actions: Looking at your symbol with a reflective surface is cheating. Players may not use weapons or violence to kill fellow players.”

That made Niragi scoff. So he couldn’t use his gun? Typical. “Seriously?” He asked as he let out a tut. “This means that the only way this game will ever end is if the Jack gives the wrong answer,” Chisyia stated. You and Niragi looked at him. “No one here is getting out alive, unless they lie to the Jack.”

“There is no limit to the number of rounds. Enough food has been provided. While participating in this game, no days will be removed from your visas.”

Chishiya nodded as he took in the words. “So we need to start lying, find the Jack of Hearts, and kill them off, or we’ll live out the rest of our days in this prison. Solitary for life.”

You shook your head gently. “No, thank you.” You didn’t like the idea of being in solitary for life.

“The game will now commence.”“You can roam freely until it is time to enter your cell.”

Everyone stayed still for a moment before people started to couple up and form groups. “So, the 22 of us need to eliminate each other. Until we somehow figure out who the Jack of Hearts is. What makes you think anyone is trustworthy?” A man in a suit spoke, unsettling everyone.

Slowly, the players all went their different ways. However, you, Chishiya and Niragi stayed where you were.

“Hey, wanna tell each other the answer?” A man in a yellow shirt, Ippei asked, walking closer to Chishiya. “If you’re trying to survive, I would examine all the people here a little more carefully. Make sure you keep the ones who don’t lie close. For all you know, I’m the one who might be the Jack.” Chishiya told the man, who looked startled. “You see? They all started breaking off into groups. Everyone wants to know who’s trustworthy and who’s not.” He turned away from the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Take those two.” He said, gesturing to the man in a suit and a woman. “Before the game started, you wanna know what they were doing?” You grimaced as you thought back to it. What a way to be welcomed to the game. Beside you, Niragi let out a laugh. You noticed the man was looking at the four of you. You locked eyes for a moment, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You instinctively grabbed Niragi’s hand and held onto a part of Chishiya’s sleeve.

“What?” Ippei asked. “That guy wants to control everything she does to exert power over her. So that she can’t interact with any other players. Which is smart, in the long run. If you’ve got someone you can trust that much, that’s how you win the game.” You let out a soft sigh. “Chishiya, a yes or no would have worked wonders to answer the guy.” You said, looking at your blonde boyfriend. He smirked at you. His attention was then brought to the ground where he could see the players downstairs. He took a few steps forward to get closer. Hoping to hear the two men downstairs talking.

A woman in a blue dress walked over to Ippei. “Hey, do you wanna join our team?” She asked him. “No pressure or anything.” Ippei thought for a moment. He was nervous. “It’s not that I don’t want to.” He said, turning to face the three of you.

“Okay, we’ll join the group.” Chishiya stated. Niragi didn’t like that idea. He preferred the idea of the three of you sticking together, alone. However, the three of you followed behind the group. Whilst Chishiya and Niragi were getting a layout of who everyone was. You were picking at your nails. You knew the boys would figure this out. Niragi tapped your hip. “Let me see, baby.” You turned around. Niragi moved your hair out of the way. “Look at that. A heart.” He said before placing a kiss behind your ear, causing you to giggle as the heat rushed to your cheeks.

You smiled and tapped Chishiya’s wrist. “You’re turn, love.” You spoke softly to him. Chishiya turned around. “Diamond. Hmm, very fitting.” You told him happily. You then turned to Niragi. “Your turn, handsome.” Niragi turned around. You and Chishiya looked at the symbol. “Spade.” The three of you stood there, mainly because Chishiya was busy thinking. You let a small huff. This was going to be a long night.

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”

The three of you walked to your cells. Yours was in the middle between Niragi and Chishiya’s cells. You stood in your cell, the door locking behind you, causing you to bite your bottom lip. “Heart.” You were confident. Of course, you were. Your two loves would never lie to you. The door unlocked once the round was over, and you stepped out of the room. You and the boys made your way back to the guardroom, and Ippei followed after the three of you.

–

“I keep wondering how long this is going to go on for.” You heard a man say. His partner spoke up. “Either the Jack will start killing people, or someone who’s afraid of the Jack will start to kill. Until either or both of those things happen, this will never end.”

“Exactly.” Chishiya agreed. “As long as we keep being honest with each other, we’ll be all right.” Ippei gasped out. “Or not.” Niragi added with a smirk, watching the man shrink back a little. You gently smacked his shoulder. He was having too much fun watching this guy cower.

“What the fuck!” A voice came, and a man was thrown to the floor. Everyone stared as a man walked over to the sobbing man on the floor. “I told you to give me the answer!” He shouted. That was so not okay. You went to take a step forward, however, Chishiya grabbed the sleeve of your cardigan. Niragi placed his arm in front of you, stopping you from moving. “Don’t.” They both whispered to you. Neither wanted you to be involved. You all watched as a man in blue, the man Chishiya had agreed with, got up and walked to the sobbing man. “You all right? Tell him he’s a club.” His voice was low, however, the three of you heard him. The sobbing man told the bully that his symbol was a club. The bully smirked and walked past you, your boyfriends and Ippei.

Ippei let out a gasp at seeing that the symbol was actually a diamond. “Shh! Now the game is really starting.” Chishiya was ready for the game to truly start. You shook your head lightly but stayed quiet. He was right. Now the game could start for real. Which meant the three of you would be closer to getting out of here and finding the others.

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”

You walked over to a cell and stepped inside. “Club.”

The first person was now dead, and all the other players were tense. Well, a lot of them were. A select few seemed calm and collected. A woman in a blue dress, the leader of the group you had joined, was plotting to kill the guy who had been getting bullied. Which to you was just wrong. He wasn’t the Jack of Hearts, and he had clearly been scared. You looked over at Chishiya, only to find him staring at a man who was sitting on the floor. The same man who had kick-started all of this, Banda. The two seemed to lock eyes and study each other.

You turned to Niragi only to find him doing the same. Except with that man in the suit, Yaba. The one who always had that woman with him. You let out a small scoff and crossed your arms over your chest. You weren’t jealous. You knew they were both trying to figure all this out. After a minute had passed, you walked forward. “Well, I’m gonna go see what food they have here.” You told your boys as you turned to walk off.

You were pulled back as Niragi grabbed your arm. “You’re not going anywhere without at least one of us with you.” He told you. You smiled up at him. “And here I thought you two were scoping out new additions to our relationship.” That made Chishiya snort beside you. Niragi shook his head. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” You grinned up at Niragi, placing a hand on his chest. “You love when I’m bratty. Hell, you love it when we’re both bratty. Right, Shiya?” You asked, turning to the blonde, who finally looked at the two of you. He smiled and nodded his head. “You love fucking the brat out of us.” He added as he stepped forward. You giggled. Niragi licked his bottom lip. “You two are on a very dangerous path right now.” You reached out and grabbed their hands. “Let’s go get some food.” You pulled them with you as you walked.

—---

You soon found yourselves sitting at a table in the cafeteria. The group you were with were all telling each other their symbols. Lying to one of the members. You and your boys already told each other your symbols. Chishiya was a heart, Niragi was a diamond, and you were a spade. Chishiya was munching on some cookies, you were eating cookies and cream flavored Pocky. Niragi had a drink and was just stealing the odd treat from you two. “When we get out of here, we should take as much of this with us as we can.” Niragi nodded at your idea. “Good idea.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’m full of good ideas.” Chishiya let out a chuckle and shook his head at you.

‘It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.’

You made your way to the cell and said your suit. Once again, you were alive, but that wasn’t exactly surprising, was it?

‘Round four begins now.’

Everyone stood in the central guard room. Some people were confused that the guy the group just killed wasn’t the jack of hearts. Niragi let out a scoff. “How stupid are these people?” He asked, leaning against a wall beside Chishiya.

“People are starting to get nervous. I know they said there was no time limit…”Chishiya looked up as he let his words linger for a moment. “Except that people are starting to die now. I’m not sure we’ll find the Jack at all.” Well, that threw you through a loop. You and Niragi looked at Chishiya in shock.

“What the hell has gotten into you? We’ll figure this out. You’re smart enough, pretty boy.” Niragi lightly tapped his cheek. The three of you made your way downstairs to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. Once again, Chishiya was eating those biscuits from that yellow packet. “I’ll be sure to grab all of those for you when we leave this place.” Chishiya looked at you and gently squeezed your thigh in thanks.

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”

Of course, you went to your cells. Each confident as you all stated your symbols.

“Heart.”

“Club.”

“Diamond.”

—---

‘Round five begins now.’

Standing outside of the cells, Ippei was pacing. Chishiya was leaning against the wall. Arms crossed over his chest. Niragi was next to him, one hand wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. The other was in the pocket of Chishiya’s jacket. Keeping him close.

“Why are they all tricking each other?” Ippei asked as he turned to look at the three of you.

“Wow, are you really surprised?” Chishiya asked him without even looking at the poor guy. He was having a hard time with all of this. “No one wants to be the next to die.” Ippei trembled with fear. He was feeling stressed out.

You looked at your boys for a moment. You turned in Niragi’s arms. “I’m bored.” You told him, causing Niragi to chuckle. “We’re in the middle of a game and you’re bored? You hearing this?” He asked, tugging on Chishiya’s pocket to get his attention. “She knows she’s safe. She’s not worried for her life, of course, she’s bored.” Chishiya replied with a small shrug. You looked between the two of them. “Wanna make out?” You asked them both, a bright smile on your face.

“Sure.” They said in unison. And so the three of you walked off to find a cell, where you wouldn’t be interrupted.

—----

‘Round six begins now.’ ‘Round seven begins now.’

Standing in front of the shelves of food. You grabbed another box of Pocky. This time, crunchy strawberry. Every time you came down here, you seemed to be collecting the flavors. You looked around, trying to find the snack Niragi wanted, only to find it on the top shelf. Typical. You shoved your Pocky and Chishiya’s favorite cookies in your pocket. You reached up, standing on your tiptoes to try to reach, when a hand reached out from behind you to grab a packet. You turned to see Yaba and Banda behind you. Yaba held out the snack to you. “Here, you go dear.”

You smiled up at him and took the snack. “Thank you.” You looked between the men for a moment. Both seemed to be studying you, and you couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “You’re pretty.” Banda stated, a smirk on his face.

“Oh, thank-” You were cut off by Niragi’s voice. “Hey Princess! Come here a minute, Chishiya had an idea he wants to tell us!” He called out. He was standing up from the table. The two could see you clearly. You turned to the men in front of you and shrugged. “Thanks for the help, gentlemen.” You then made your way to your boys. You sat down next to Niragi, across from Chishiya.

“Stay away from those two.” Niragi said as he sat back down. He gently ran his fingers through your hair.

“Banda is a murderer, so stay clear. No more going anywhere alone.” Chishiya added with a tone that made it seem like that was common knowledge.

Then the words of what he had said sank in. “Wait, what? How do you know that?”

“I read.”

‘Round eight begins now.’ ‘Round nine begins now.’ ‘Round ten begins now.’ ‘Round eleven begins now.’ ‘Round twelve begins now.’

Round after round and more people were being killed off. You had watched the group kill each other off. It was brutal, but there was nothing you could do.

“I don’t think I can keep playing this game.” Ippei sobbed out.

“Diamond.”

He turned to face Chishiya, who had spoken. “How much longer, man?” He then sat down on the ground. “It’s so messed up.” He sniffled. “I thought that… people were much better than this.”

“Man, you led a charmed life.” You smacked Chishiya on the arm. “I’m sorry. But this is our reality now. Maybe we won’t get out of this alive. But even so, all we can do for now is help each other. So we can get out of this game.” You watched Chishiya walk over to Ippei and crouch down beside him. “Okay? We can do this.”

‘Round Thirteen begins now.’

Ippei was dead. The three of you stood outside of this cell. “You were too kind for this world, Ippei.” Chishiya sighed and turned to face the opening doors. “Well, that’s settled. Looks like we lost our partner.” Niragi chuckled at Chishiya’s words. “More like you lost your admirer.” He stated with a smirk. Chishiya shoved him slightly. “Shut up.” He said as the three of you watched the remaining players staring at you all. They all then walked away.

—-

Back downstairs, the three of you got food again. Chishiya had just finished telling you both who he thought the Jack was and why. Then, low and behind, the man you were speaking about came into the room. Matsushita was heading towards the same cookies he always got. A selection of the same cookie but different flavours.

Chishiya got up, his yellow packet of cookies in his hands as he walked over to Matsushita. He leant against the shelves of food. “These cookies taste better.” He said, causing Matsushita in the grey cardigan to turn to face him. Niragi walked over, appearing behind Chishiya. Matsushita stepped back slightly before walking past the two, just as you walked over. The guy looked you over for a moment as he continued to walk.

“That guy you hang out with? You should know that he’s a murderer.” Matsushita turned to look at Chishiya in confusion.

“What?”

“His name’s Sunato Banda. It was in the newspaper. Murdered four women, so that makes him a serial killer. And, you know, that’s punishable by death.”

“That’s a filthy lie.”

“No. It’s true. Know what I think? I think he’s the Jack of Hearts. There are only seven of us left. Time is running out. So the Jack’s gonna start to get aggressive now. Might as well share symbols. Chishiya began to walk over to Matsushita. “For the moment, you’re in a good position. The Jack still trusts you. So if anyone is going lie to the Jack. It has to be you.” Chishiya walked to the other side of the man. “Which means the game can only win one way. The key player here is you.” He let out a breath before crossing his arms over his chest, still holding the yellow bag of cookies. “I’m sure this is a lot, and you don’t trust me yet. For what it’s worth, there’s no advantage for me to lie. So I’ll tell you the truth about your symbol. Don’t you wanna make sure that Banda’s telling you the truth?”

“What makes you think that I would trust you over him?”

You don’t have to if you don’t want to. If I were in your shoes, I’d want to weigh my options. And I’ve got no reason to lie to you. Banda’s a murderer, and that’s a fact.”

“I still don’t trust you.”

“Fine. You’ll see for yourself once the next round is over. You’re a spade. Just so you know.” Chishiya turned around. “So, will you tell me mine?” There was a beat of silence. “Come on. I told you what yours is.”

“I never agreed to this deal.” Matsushita walked away from stopping. “Heart.” And with that, he left.

“What a fucking liar.” You couldn’t help but say once he was out of earshot. Chishiya was a diamond. But he already knew that. You were a club, and Niragi was a spade. Niragi shook his head and chuckled. “Baby, we knew he was going to lie.” He told you with a shrug. Chishiya walked back over to the two of you. “It’s him. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed. Niragi nodded his head in agreement.

“I still don’t like that Yaba guy or that Banda.” Niragi stated, arms crossed over his chest, remembering you talking to them.

You and Chishiya looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile. “Jealous.”

“Shut up.”

—-

After a while, Kotoko came into the room. She was picking up the same cookies she always did. Once again, Chishiya made his move.

“There are only seven of us left. Unfortunately, one of my partners is dead. I asked that guy, Matsushita, what my symbol is, but he told me he doesn’t trust me.” He inhaled. “And I’m pretty sure he lied to me. Sort of a hunch, I guess. So, would you mind telling me what my symbol is? I know this is kind of a big ask. But if you want, I promise to tell you your symbol in exchange. I … don’t mean to presume, but you strike me as an honest person. At least from over here. Also, that Yaba guy strikes me as a bit of a conman, and since you’re aligned with him, I thought you should know.”

Chishiya walked past Kotoko. “Your symbol is a heart. Now, what about mine? It’s a club, right?”

Kotoko walked away, her head down. Chishiya raised his packet of biscuits. “These are better, you know!” Chishiya let out a sigh and made his way to your table, where you and Niragi were sitting. The two of you had been having a lightsaber battle with your Pocky. Though your attention was brought to Chishiya was he sat down.

“I thought you were a doctor, not a salesman. Are you trying to sell those cookies to everyone or something?” Niragi asked him with a teasing grin on his face. Chishiya picked up a cookie and threw it at Niragi, intending to hit him with it. Though Niragi caught it in his mouth. “Shut up.”

You let out a giggle. The three of you spent the rest of the time sitting around the table, eating and talking about whatever you could.

—--

Walking back to the central guardroom, Yaba walked past three of you. He and Chishiya slowed down for a moment before he walked off to Kotoko. The three of you turned and watched Banda walk up the stairs before heading off to Matsushita.

“Seven people left, two pairs and one trio. The jack’s definitely going to make a move this round.” He took a step forward, standing on the podium thing. “I guess that this is the last round.” The blonde turned to look at the two of you. Niragi scoffed. “When did you become so dramatic?”

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”

You walked into your cell. You smiled slightly. Hopefully this was the last round. “Club.” You waited for a moment. The same sound echoed to show someone had died. The place was quiet until you heard an unsettling cackle like laughter. It sent chills down your spine. Hearing a door open, you opened your door. You stepped out. Niragi walked out of his, which was on your left. Chishiya walked out of his, which was on your right.

“I had a feeling you were the Jack of Hearts.” The three of you turned to face Matsushita. Chishiya’s hands were in his packers. Niragi’s were crossed over his chest. You put your hands on your hips. All three of you are watching the man in front of you.

“But how did you…?”

“You teamed up with Banda from the start, and he’s a murderer, so it just made sense. Even if somehow you were moved by Banda’s little monologue, I knew you wouldn’t trust him. You don’t trust strangers and certainly not that fast.” Chishiya stated calmly. God, it was hot seeing his brain work. Very sexy. Nope, now was not the time for that.

Another door opened and out came Banda. “Most people won’t even talk to a guy like me. But you wanted to kill me. I could sense that in you right away. So I wanted to see if you were smart, or just stupid or whether you were a true psychopath.”

“You mean..”

“You thought you were controlling me this whole time.” He began walking towards Matsushita. “But I was manipulating you into thinking that way. Ultimately, it was your huge superiority complex that gave you away.”

“That kind of self-importance usually comes from being put in a special position. Something that made you feel untouchable. Like being chosen as the Jack.” Chishiya started.

“You guys are wrong about this. Banda is the Jack of Hearts!”

“Sorry, kid.” Yaba’s voice came from the stairs. “It’s not Banda.” Yaba walked over, hands in his pants pockets. “You and Kotoko were connected. I told Kotoko what her symbol was, and yet, she still died. Which means, Kotoko was being manipulated by someone other than me.”

Matsushita nodded. “Well, then, you should be accusing one of those three instead!”

“Everything I went to the cafeteria, you and Kotoko would always be there, getting snacks at the same time. And each time, you’d get the same kind of snack. You and Kotoko were secretly communicating in the cafeteria. Both of you were just pretending that you were being controlled.” Chishiya spoke.

“No one knows what being controlled looks like until they’ve seen you in the bedroom.” Niragi chuckled in your ear. You wizzed around and slapped his chest. “Niragi, now is so not the time. Chishiya is showing off his sexy smarts, so please shut up.”

“There were four different flavors of the snack. You would confirm your symbols by checking the packaging. Using those snacks as a code with each other. I caught on pretty quickly.” Chishiya finished.

Yaba then spoke up. “And then, you told Kotoko to give me the wrong symbol. I did trust her. Except at the end.”

Matsushita gasped. “When did you lot start working together?”

“Well, the very first announcement said that this game is about how much we can trust one another. So we simply followed that principle. To gain someone’s trust. You can’t control, manipulate or guide them in any way. You can’t brainwash or hypnotize them, lie to them or instill fear.” Yaba spoke with every step he took. Only stopping once he came to stand beside Banda. “It’s called equality.”

“Wait, what makes you so sure it’s me? The Jack of Hearts could easily be one of your five. Okay, maybe I did try to blame everything on you by setting you up, but look! But that’s not enough, huh? You guys don’t have any proof that I’m the Jack of Hearts, huh?”

“You sure about that?” Chishiya asked.

“Huh?” Matsushita turned to face him. Chishiya stepped forward. “Just think about it. If they suspected that you were the Jack, then why did you survive this last round? Why didn’t Banda Lie? Tell you the wrong thing?”

Niragi stepped forward, a sick grin on his face. “The reason you’re still alive is because you’re the Jack. And these guys planned to keep you alive. Because they decided they wanna get information out of you.”

‘Round fourteen begins now.’

—--

Walking out of the prison, the boys opened a gate each, letting you walk out first. The three of you walked about before stopping to look at the blimp as it blew up and set on fire. You each had a bag, filled with food and drinks.

“Well, that was fun.” You told them, causing the two to look at you. You smiled up at them. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so chill about a game before.”

“That’s because Chishiya did all the work, baby.” Niragi told you with a raised eyebrow.

Chishiya nodded. “Well, you made some good commentary.” He said to Niragi, making him puff out his chest a little.

“And I had the hardest job of all. Looking pretty and eating all the Pocky.” You told them, mocking a sad expression. Your hand on your chest.

Suddenly, your bag was snatched from you by Chishiya. “Hey!” Niragi grabbed you and lifted you from the ground.

The sound of your laughter filled the streets. The three of you are happy and heading off to find your friends.

Taglist: Thank you for supporting me.

@thecheshireprincess @mocchii-writes @moonchild323232 @potato-vagina @monkey4lifer @kimsrie @so-dramatic1 @28361573 @onceinablueberrymoon @spanish-delulu-23

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ghostlynightpanda · 3 months ago

Note

Could i please request aib x reader where reader always has trouble sleeping so everytime reader cant sleep reader goes to their s/o room and makes it their problem too, reader either makes them stay up with them or go to sleep with them :3

Feel free to decline this request, i understand making these types of works take a long time and esp considering how many people request so take your time with this! I really like your works, keep it up!! :D

AIB Character react to reader having trouble to sleep

content/warnings: Ann, Kuina, Mira, Aguni, Niragi, Last Boss, Chishiya, fem!reader, fluff, 6.589 words

Ann

The Beach was quiet, its usual chaos stilled for the moment. The only sound was the distant murmur of conversations between survivors, but in your room, it felt far too empty. You had been tossing and turning for hours, unable to find any peace, the uncertainty of your situation weighing heavily on your mind.

You tried everything—counting the cracks in the walls, staring at the ceiling, and even trying to drift into sleep with thoughts of a peaceful life before the games. But it was all in vain.

And so, you did what you always did when sleep wouldn't come: you left your room and quietly made your way down the hallway towards Ann’s.

Her room was always a place of calm for you. Even in the madness of the Beach, Ann's presence had a soothing effect—her soft demeanor, her calm voice, the way she always seemed to know what to say without overwhelming you. Tonight, though, you felt desperate for the comfort she unknowingly provided.

You hesitated for a moment outside her door, a little uncertain whether she'd be annoyed by the interruption, but when you pushed the door open, she was already awake, sitting by the window, her gaze distant but soft.

"Can't sleep?" Ann's voice was gentle, the words feeling more like an invitation than a question.

You shook your head, stepping inside and closing the door quietly behind you. "No... I don't know what's wrong. I just can't seem to get my mind to quiet down."

Ann didn't say anything right away. She just patted the bed beside her, a silent offer. You moved to sit next to her, the space between you comfortable, warm.

She glanced over at you, her calm expression never wavering. "It's okay," she said softly. "It happens sometimes. You're not alone in this."

Ann didn’t push you to talk. She simply stayed there, sitting next to you in the quiet. Her presence was enough, and the way she let you just be—without needing to explain yourself—was a kind of peace you rarely found anywhere else on the Beach.

"Ann..." you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know why I keep having trouble sleeping. It’s like everything just... keeps spinning in my head."

Her hand rested gently on your arm, her touch light but steady, like a constant that could anchor you in the storm. "I understand," she said, her voice low. "It’s hard when everything around us feels out of control."

She let out a soft sigh, as if contemplating something for a moment before turning to you fully. "Sometimes, you don’t need to fight it. Just let your thoughts pass by. And if you need to, let me be here with you until it fades."

You leaned into her warmth, grateful for her understanding. She was the kind of person who didn’t need to fix things to make them better. She just needed to be there, quietly supporting you in a way only she could.

Minutes turned into hours, and Ann didn’t move, never complaining about the late hour. Her steady presence lulled you into a sense of peace. You felt your eyelids grow heavy as the tension in your body slowly eased, your thoughts slowing to a dull murmur.

"Stay with me?" you asked softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Ann didn’t hesitate. She shifted, sliding down into the bed beside you, her body close but respectful of your space. Without saying a word, she wrapped her arm around you, pulling you gently closer. Her warmth was comforting, and you found yourself relaxing, finally allowing yourself to surrender to the calm that her presence always brought.

"You’re safe here," she whispered, her voice the last thing you heard before sleep claimed you.

And for the first time in a long while, sleep didn’t feel like a struggle. You drifted off in the quiet of Ann’s room, her embrace making the chaos of the Beach feel a little farther away.

Kuina

The dim light from the hallway filtered in through the cracks of the door, casting long shadows across the room. Kuina sat on her bed, her legs tucked underneath her, silently staring at the wall. She had always been a pillar of strength, calm and composed, but tonight, there was a quiet tension in the air. Something felt off, but she couldn’t quite place it.

The sounds of the Beach were distant, but there was no hiding the restlessness in the atmosphere—people moving, talking, plotting—but none of it mattered right now. What mattered was the unsettling feeling that had been nagging at her, the thought of not being able to rest or escape from the tension.

And then came a knock on her door.

You had been pacing in your room for hours, unable to find rest no matter how hard you tried. Sleep was a stranger to you these days, and tonight, it was particularly hard. Your thoughts raced endlessly, and with no one else to turn to, you found yourself in front of Kuina's door. Without hesitation, you pushed it open, your expression a mix of exhaustion and vulnerability.

Kuina’s gaze lifted to meet yours as you entered, the smallest hint of surprise flickering in her eyes. She had been expecting a peaceful night, but instead, here you were—looking for comfort.

"You’re still awake," she observed quietly, her voice tinged with concern as she set her book aside and patted the space next to her on the bed. "Can’t sleep?"

You nodded, not needing to explain. You never really had to with her. Kuina always understood.

Without waiting for a response, she leaned back against the pillows and pulled the blanket back slightly, her usual tough demeanor softened just enough to make room for you. She knew what it was like to lie awake, restless and trapped in your own head.

"You’re welcome to stay," Kuina said casually, but her eyes showed a softness you didn’t often see in the fierce warrior. "This bed’s too big for just me."

There was a comfort in her words, a sense of reassurance. You hesitated for only a moment before slipping under the blanket, the warmth of her body radiating gently beside you. The bed was, indeed, large, but it felt more like a vast, empty space that begged for companionship tonight.

As you laid there, the quiet of the room stretched on. Kuina, who was always full of energy and boldness, seemed unusually still. The rhythmic sound of her breathing, steady and soothing, filled the silence between you.

"You know, sometimes," Kuina started softly, her voice carrying a rare tenderness, "sleep doesn't come because you’re fighting it too hard. You’ve just got to let it happen. And if it doesn’t, then... just let it be. But I’ll stay here, and we’ll figure it out together."

Her words were simple, but they carried a wisdom that you hadn’t expected. In the chaos of the Beach, it was easy to forget that sometimes, all it took to find peace was someone who could offer silent comfort.

Kuina reached over, her hand resting on yours in a quiet gesture of solidarity. "You’re not alone in this," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, the restless tension that had been swirling inside you began to fade. Her presence was grounding, like a calm in the middle of a storm. Slowly, the urge to think, to worry, to fight the sleeplessness, began to slip away.

After a while, you found yourself drifting closer to her, the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her breathing calming your restless mind. You didn’t say anything, and neither did she. There didn’t need to be words. Just the simple act of sharing space with someone who understood your struggle was enough to soothe the fears that had kept you awake.

As sleep finally began to claim you, you felt a deep sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time. The chaos of the Beach, the games, the dangers—they all felt far away in this moment.

Kuina’s arm curled around you, pulling you closer, and the last thing you heard before you finally fell asleep was her soft, steady voice whispering, "Sleep. I’ve got your back."

And for the first time in ages, you were able to let go.

Mira

The Beach was quiet that night, the usual clamor of voices and the intensity of survival games left behind in favor of an eerie calm. You couldn’t shake the feeling of restlessness, your mind racing as you stared up at the ceiling, thoughts swirling in circles, too loud to ignore. Sleep had become an impossible task lately.

You sighed in frustration and glanced over at Mira, who sat nearby, flipping through a book in her hands. Her expression was unreadable, her usual composed and confident demeanor unchanged, even in the dim light of the room.

You were about to get up and retreat to your own bed when you caught her attention. She looked at you with an almost knowing smile, a slight glint in her eyes as if she had been expecting you.

"Can’t sleep, hmm?" she asked, her voice smooth and alluring, yet laced with a subtle kindness that felt strangely comforting.

You nodded in agreement, sitting at the edge of the bed with a sigh. Mira studied you for a moment, her gaze unwavering, before she closed her book and set it aside, leaning back against the pillows.

"I suppose I could help," she mused thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling with a quiet mischief. "But I don't want to just leave you to toss and turn all night. How about a story?"

Your curiosity piqued, you raised an eyebrow, unsure what to expect. Mira was never one to indulge in anything so simple, but you had learned that there were depths to her you hadn’t fully understood.

"A story?" you asked, a little surprised.

"Yes," Mira replied with a slight smirk. "A story to help you drift off to sleep. I happen to know quite a few."

She shifted, making herself more comfortable on the bed, her eyes now gleaming with the beginnings of an idea.

"Let me tell you a tale," she began, her voice lowering to a soft, rhythmic tone. "A tale of a queen who ruled with an iron fist and a heart full of rage—a queen who thought she could control everything, only to realize that there was one thing she could never control: herself."

Mira’s voice carried a smooth, almost hypnotic quality, and you found yourself relaxing into her words, your eyelids growing heavy as she spoke.

"Once upon a time," she continued, "there was a Queen who ruled over a land of wonder and chaos. Her name was the Queen of Hearts, and she was feared by all who lived in her kingdom. Her temper was as fiery as her crown, and she ruled with an iron fist. 'Off with their heads!' she would cry, whenever something displeased her, and the people trembled at the sound of her voice."

You shifted slightly to get more comfortable, your mind beginning to picture the strange world she described—an odd, almost dreamlike place.

"But despite her power," Mira's voice grew softer, drawing you deeper into the story, "the Queen had a secret. She ruled with fury, but her heart was as fragile as glass. She couldn't understand why the world didn’t bend to her will completely, why her subjects still dared to question her. Her kingdom seemed to be filled with madness, and no matter how much she tried to control it, everything seemed to slip through her fingers."

You could almost feel the frustration of the Queen in Mira’s words, the weight of her lonely, isolated throne.

"One day, as she sat on her throne, screaming orders to her subjects, a young girl appeared. She was unafraid of the Queen, standing tall with a quiet confidence that the Queen could not comprehend. This girl, who came from nowhere, brought a sense of calm and understanding into the Queen’s chaotic world. She asked the Queen, 'Why do you rule with such fear, when what you really crave is peace?'"

Mira’s voice became softer, almost conspiratorial. "The Queen of Hearts did not know how to answer. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. And for the first time, she realized that perhaps, in all her rage and all her power, she had never truly understood herself. Maybe her heart wasn’t as hard as she had thought."

You felt your body relax further, her soothing voice making it easier to imagine the strange world of the Queen of Hearts. Mira’s presence became the safe haven you longed for, her voice lulling you into a state of peace.

"The Queen thought long and hard," Mira continued. "And though she did not change overnight, the young girl’s words stayed with her. Slowly, she began to question herself, to wonder if there was another way to rule—a way that didn’t require fear, a way that allowed her to understand her own heart. And though she still ruled with strength, she began to rule with wisdom, knowing that sometimes, control was not the answer to everything."

By the time Mira finished, your mind had settled, the story weaving a soft blanket of comfort around your thoughts. She paused for a moment, letting the silence settle between you.

"Did you like it?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper now.

You gave a sleepy nod, your body heavy and relaxed, ready to drift into the embrace of sleep. Mira’s soft smile was the last thing you saw before your eyelids fluttered closed.

“Good,” she said softly, her voice a gentle caress as you fell asleep. "Sweet dreams, my dear."

And as you sank into a peaceful slumber, the words of the Queen of Hearts echoed quietly in your mind, the madness of the world outside slipping away, leaving only the comfort of Mira’s presence and the quiet, soothing power of her story.

Aguni

The night was still, the usual noise of the Beach fading into a distant hum. The only sound that filled the silence was the soft rustling of the wind and the faint crackle of a fire burning somewhere in the distance. You had been lying awake in your bed for what felt like hours, tossing and turning, but sleep refused to come. The thoughts in your mind kept swirling in a dizzying loop, and no matter how hard you tried to shut them out, they wouldn't leave you in peace.

After another long stretch of staring at the ceiling, you finally gave up on trying to force sleep. You had a habit of doing this—when sleep wouldn’t come, you found yourself seeking out Aguni. He wasn’t one for talking, but his presence always had a calming effect. There was something about his stoic nature that grounded you when the chaos of the Beach became too much to bear.

You quietly slipped out of your room and made your way down the hall to his. You didn’t knock; you simply opened the door and stepped inside. Aguni was sitting by the window, his broad frame silhouetted by the faint moonlight. He was staring out at the Beach, but his gaze wasn’t focused on anything in particular. It was the kind of look that suggested he had a lot on his mind.

He turned when he heard the door creak open, his expression softening ever so slightly when he saw you standing there.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his deep voice low, but not unkind.

You nodded, feeling the familiar weight of exhaustion settling in your bones. Aguni didn’t speak much, but there was a certain understanding between the two of you that didn’t need words.

Without another word, he patted the empty space next to him on the small cot. You didn’t hesitate, walking over to sit beside him. The warmth of his presence was a comfort, a quiet refuge amidst the chaos. You sat in silence for a moment, both of you gazing out the window at the dark expanse of the Beach.

"What's keeping you up?" he asked quietly after a while, his voice softer than you expected.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, the vulnerability creeping in despite your best efforts to hide it. "Just... everything. The constant noise in my head. The fear of what comes next... I can’t seem to turn it off."

Aguni gave a soft grunt, his hand resting on the side of the cot. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel him processing your words. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or try to give advice. Instead, he simply sat there, letting you speak, or not, if that was what you needed.

"Sometimes, it helps to just sit in the quiet," he finally said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "It’s hard to block it all out, but... if you can, even for a little while, it brings some peace."

You let out a long sigh and settled in a bit more comfortably, your body naturally leaning a little closer to his. Aguni was never the type to coddle or try to soothe, but his presence alone made you feel safe. It was a comfort you didn’t realize you needed until this moment.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt easy—almost familiar. Aguni’s presence, despite his usually tough and intimidating nature, was a calm anchor in the storm of your racing thoughts.

After a long stretch of time passed, Aguni’s hand moved, and you looked up to see him offering you a small, subtle smile. It was rare, but in moments like this, it was a sign that he was willing to show a side of himself that he usually kept hidden.

"Come here," he said quietly, his voice almost a murmur.

You glanced at him, surprised by the gentleness in his tone, but you didn’t hesitate. You shifted closer to him, and without a word, Aguni pulled you gently into his arms. His grip was firm but comforting, his body warm and solid against yours. You tucked your head into his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat ground you.

"Sleep," he murmured softly, his voice as steady as ever. "I’ve got you. Don’t worry about the noise or the chaos. Just for tonight, let it go."

The steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his embrace, and the calming presence of his silence worked in tandem, easing the tension that had been coiled tightly in your body. Slowly, your mind began to quiet, the anxieties that had kept you awake melting away as Aguni held you close.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Aguni didn’t respond with words. Instead, his hand gently brushed through your hair in a soft, comforting gesture. His strength and presence were enough to reassure you that, for tonight, you were safe.

And, as if by magic, the moment you let yourself sink into his embrace, your racing thoughts slowed, and sleep finally claimed you. The chaos of the Beach faded into the background, and you allowed yourself to rest, trusting Aguni to keep the nightmares at bay—just for a while.

Niragi

The night was unusually quiet on the Beach, the usual chaos and tension of the day now faded into the stillness of the evening. You had tried, again and again, to fall asleep in your room, but the overwhelming sense of restlessness refused to leave you. Your mind wouldn’t slow down, and the weight of everything—of the games, the fear, the uncertainty—pressed heavily on your chest. You could almost hear your own heartbeat in the silence, louder than any thoughts in your head.

In a desperate attempt to shake off the feeling, you slipped out of your room and made your way to the poolside. The soft moonlight reflected off the still water, casting a calming glow across the area, but it didn’t help to quiet your racing thoughts. You walked slowly around the pool, unsure of what you were doing or where you were going, just hoping that the movement might give you some peace.

You didn’t know how much time passed before you heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind you. A voice broke through your thoughts—low and rough, but oddly familiar.

"Can’t sleep?" Niragi’s voice was a mixture of irritation and curiosity, but there was something about his tone that wasn’t as harsh as usual.

You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, your gaze meeting his with a mix of exhaustion and frustration. You nodded, not really feeling up to explaining yourself. The last thing you wanted right now was a confrontation with him, but for some reason, his presence didn’t seem as threatening as it usually did.

"Yeah, guess I’m just... not tired," you muttered, your eyes avoiding his. You couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t that you were scared of him, but you certainly didn’t trust him either. Still, there was something about the way he lingered in the quiet of the night that felt oddly comforting.

He raised an eyebrow, his usual cocky smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You’re out here wandering around like a lost puppy," he said, taking a step closer. "Don’t know what to do with yourself, huh?"

You shrugged, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you both. "Just... trying to clear my head, I guess."

Niragi stood there for a few moments, studying you with his sharp, calculating gaze. He didn’t say anything for a while, but his presence was enough to make you feel like he was just as lost as you were, though he wouldn’t admit it.

"You know," he said after a beat, "if you’re just gonna stand around here, you may as well come with me."

You glanced at him, skeptical. His tone didn’t leave much room for argument, but you hesitated. You knew who Niragi was—his reputation preceded him. He wasn’t someone you’d ever go to for comfort, and you didn’t trust him at all. In fact, you’d bet that most people would warn you that he was the last person you should follow, especially at a time like this.

"Trust me," Niragi said, his voice softening just slightly. "I’m not gonna bite your head off. You’ve got nothing to lose."

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing him warily. "I’m sure a lot of people would warn me that you’re the last person to trust."

His expression remained unchanged, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement or maybe just a hint of curiosity. "Well, maybe they’re right," he said with a smirk. "But, you’re not gonna find peace walking around like this, are you?"

You felt a strange pull to his words, something that made you want to follow through despite the warning bells going off in your head. After a moment of internal debate, you sighed and gave in. "Fine," you muttered, "I’ll go with you. But if you try anything, you’ll regret it."

Niragi chuckled darkly, and for a moment, you almost felt like he was trying to get you to lighten up, which was both strange and unexpected. He didn’t say anything else, simply turned and began walking toward his room, and you followed behind him, your heart thudding in your chest.

The halls of the Beach were quiet, almost eerily so, as you made your way to his room. You couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, unsure of what to expect. Niragi opened the door without a word and stepped inside, motioning for you to follow.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a single light casting long shadows across the walls. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and the remnants of the day’s chaos, but in this space, there was an odd sense of calm. Niragi didn’t make a big deal out of it, merely pulling back the covers on his bed and sitting down. He patted the spot beside him, his usual cocky demeanor returning.

"Sit. You’re not gonna get any sleep standing around out there."

You hesitated, but after a moment, you decided it would be better to just do as he said. You sat beside him on the bed, the silence between you hanging heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Niragi didn’t say anything for a while, as if letting the quiet settle around you both. It wasn’t the kind of silence that made you anxious, though. It was peaceful in a strange way. The tension that had been coiled inside you all night slowly began to loosen.

After a few minutes, Niragi shifted, looking at you from the corner of his eye. "You’ve been on edge all night," he commented. "I get it. But you need to rest. You’re not gonna last long if you keep pushing yourself like this."

You weren’t sure how to respond, but you found yourself nodding, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. Niragi’s presence, although strange, was calming in its own way.

"I’ve never been one for a lullaby," he muttered with a half-smile. "But, I can at least get you to sleep in peace for a bit."

You didn’t ask how he planned to do that. You didn’t need to. You were too tired to question it, too drained to care. For the first time that night, you found yourself feeling more relaxed. Maybe it was the warmth of his room, or maybe it was the quiet company, but sleep finally seemed within reach.

Niragi leaned back, stretching his legs out, and after a moment, you did the same, feeling the weight of the day’s stress lift off your shoulders.

"Sleep," Niragi said quietly, his tone surprisingly soft. "I won’t let anything happen to you."

You didn’t respond, too close to sleep now, your eyes fluttering shut. His presence was enough, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to keep fighting. With a final sigh, your mind cleared, and you finally drifted off, the quiet of the room—and Niragi’s presence—offering the peace you had been searching for all night.

Last Boss

The main hall of the Beach was unusually lively, filled with scattered conversations and clinking glasses as survivors gathered for one of the Beach’s frequent parties. Music played softly in the background, and laughter echoed across the room, but you weren’t really part of it. You never really were.

You sat alone on one of the large couches, tucked into the corner of the room, watching the chaos unfold from a distance. Your gaze lingered on the flickering shadows and the flickering faces, the noise nothing more than a distant hum in your ears. No matter how much you tried, you just couldn’t bring yourself to join in.

You had been trying to get some rest, but your mind wouldn’t let you sleep. The gnawing anxiety that had been with you all day refused to fade, and as much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t. So, here you were—sitting in the corner of the hall, far away from the center of attention, hoping for some quiet.

The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you glanced up to find Last Boss standing at the edge of the room. His usual stoic expression was unreadable, but his sharp eyes caught yours immediately.

He didn’t speak right away, as though contemplating something, before his gaze shifted, assessing the situation around him. Then, with his usual calm and precision, he took a few steps closer.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low, almost distant. "You don’t usually come to these things."

You gave a small, weary shrug, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. "I couldn’t sleep," you admitted softly, not wanting to make it a bigger deal than it was. "I’ve been having trouble with it for a while now."

There was a brief pause as Last Boss looked at you, his eyes unwavering but still carrying that quiet intensity. He didn’t seem surprised, but he didn’t press you for more details either. Instead, he simply nodded in acknowledgment and stepped a little closer, looking around the room briefly before turning back to you.

"Come with me," he said, his voice as calm as ever, with no hint of emotion.

You blinked, surprised at his sudden suggestion, but the idea of leaving the noise of the hall behind seemed like a relief. You hesitated for just a moment before getting up from the couch, following him quietly.

Without saying a word, he led you through the hall and out into the corridors of the Beach, where the noise of the party faded behind you. The quiet of the hallway was a stark contrast to the chaos you had just left, and you found yourself almost immediately feeling the tension in your body start to ease.

Last Boss didn’t say anything as he walked ahead of you, his steps steady and measured, his presence commanding without being overwhelming. He wasn’t a man who filled the air with unnecessary chatter, which, oddly enough, was a comfort to you. His silence felt like a steady presence beside you.

As you walked, the tension in your chest began to dissipate, and you found yourself taking in the calm around you. Last Boss didn’t rush you, didn’t make small talk or offer empty reassurances. He just walked beside you, his quiet strength providing a grounding force.

After a while, he stopped at a small window that overlooked the dark expanse of the Beach. The moonlight bathed everything in a soft glow, making the place seem less menacing than it usually felt during the day. You glanced at him, but he didn’t look back. His eyes were focused on the view, his expression as unreadable as always.

"You don’t have to keep walking if you don’t want to," he finally said, his voice a soft rumble. "If you want, I can stay with you for a while. You don’t need to be alone."

The simplicity of his words was enough to make your heart settle a little. He wasn’t offering anything grand or dramatic, just presence. And for some reason, that was all you needed.

You nodded quietly, still feeling the pull of exhaustion, but unable to quiet the thoughts racing through your mind. Last Boss glanced at you once more before turning and leading you back toward your room, his pace steady and unwavering. There was a quiet understanding between you both—one that didn’t require words to fill the silence.

When you reached your door, Last Boss stopped and turned to face you. His expression was as calm and neutral as ever, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel safe. He didn’t offer any grand promises or make unnecessary gestures. Instead, his next words were simple, and they carried a quiet weight.

"I’ll stay," he said quietly. "I’ll watch over you while you sleep. You don’t need to worry."

You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, or if it was the quiet sincerity in his voice, but you found yourself nodding without protest. You had never been one to rely on others, but in this moment, with him standing there, you didn’t feel quite so alone.

He didn’t ask for any more words, simply stepping into the room and making space for you to settle into the bed. His presence didn’t fill the space with chatter or unnecessary noise; it simply settled in the corner, still and reassuring.

You slowly made your way into bed, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders as you pulled the covers up. Last Boss stood near the door, his sharp eyes trained on you as if he were waiting for something.

"Sleep," he said quietly, his voice low and steady. "I’ll be here."

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling the tension of the night begin to slip away as you closed your eyes. Last Boss didn’t need to do anything more. His presence alone was enough to make you feel safe, and that was enough to finally allow you to drift into a peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.

Chishiya

The lights of the Beach had dimmed as the night settled in, and though the party was still ongoing in the main hall, you found yourself standing apart from the chaos. You hadn’t felt like joining in, and honestly, the noise and the energy only seemed to amplify the restlessness that had taken root in your chest.

It had been days since you’d slept properly, your thoughts constantly spinning, your mind too loud to let you rest. You had tried to ignore it, but sleep never came. You paced around your room for hours before you found yourself wandering aimlessly through the corridors, hoping the movement would bring some relief. But it didn’t. Your mind still raced, and sleep remained as elusive as ever.

You weren’t surprised when you ended up by the poolside, where the cool night air and the soft reflection of the water on the tiles provided some peace, though it wasn’t much. You sat down on the edge of the pool, feet dipping in the cool water, staring at your reflection as if the surface could somehow offer answers. But the stillness only left you with more questions.

A familiar voice broke through the quiet.

"You’re awake at this hour?" Chishiya’s voice was as calm and detached as ever, though there was a hint of curiosity in his tone. His presence was quiet but unmistakable, and he was standing a few feet away, arms casually crossed as he surveyed you. "Couldn’t sleep?"

You glanced up at him, and for a moment, the usual distance between you two felt even more pronounced. Chishiya wasn’t one to indulge in small talk, and you didn’t expect him to start now.

"Yeah," you admitted, rubbing your temples as if it might somehow push the nagging exhaustion away. "I’ve been having trouble falling asleep lately. My mind won’t stop."

Chishiya studied you for a moment, his gaze sharp, as if assessing your words. He was quiet, always calculating, always a few steps ahead. You weren’t sure if he truly cared or if he was just interested in seeing how far you’d go with your explanation. Either way, you didn’t feel like offering much more.

"You don’t seem like the type to just wander around at night," he said after a moment, raising an eyebrow, as if genuinely curious. "What are you hoping to find? Quiet?"

You nodded, though you didn’t have the energy to explain that you weren’t just seeking silence. It wasn’t just the chaos of the Beach that had kept you awake—it was the weight of everything. The games. The constant danger. The unknown. The fear of what was to come. But Chishiya didn’t need to know all of that.

"Something like that," you muttered, watching the ripples in the water as you swung your feet slightly. You didn’t mind the silence, but somehow with him standing there, it felt less empty than it had before.

He didn’t say anything else right away, but the quiet didn’t feel suffocating. Instead, Chishiya stood there, leaning against one of the nearby pillars, his expression as unreadable as ever. He was someone who rarely said much, and yet, somehow, his presence was a quiet comfort.

After a while, you sighed and glanced up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore."

Chishiya’s eyes flicked toward you, and for a brief moment, something flashed in his gaze—a hint of understanding, perhaps, or maybe just amusement. "You’re not the only one," he said, his tone so casually detached, it almost made you wonder if he was speaking about himself too.

A part of you wanted to ask him more, to pry into the layers beneath his cool exterior, but you knew better than that. Chishiya wasn’t the type to open up, and you weren’t in the mood to try. Instead, the silence settled between you like an old, familiar companion.

After another few moments, Chishiya pushed himself off the pillar and straightened up, walking a few steps closer to you. "Come on," he said, his voice almost languid, as though he didn’t particularly care about the time or your lack of sleep. "Let’s take a walk."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going. "A walk? At this hour?"

"Mm," he hummed, his lips curling into that familiar, half-bored smile. "Better than sitting around here, right? If you’re not gonna sleep, you may as well do something."

You hesitated for a second, but the thought of walking with him, away from the noise and the chaos, did sound appealing. Maybe it wouldn’t solve anything, but at least it would give you something else to focus on.

"Alright," you said, standing up. "I’m in."

Chishiya didn’t wait for you to catch up. He started walking, his pace unhurried, as if the night had all the time in the world. You fell in step beside him, the two of you moving through the quiet halls of the Beach. It wasn’t particularly long before you found yourself outside, the night air cool against your skin.

You didn’t talk much, not even as you walked down the dark paths that led through the Beach, the sound of your footsteps the only noise between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable—just the way things were with Chishiya. There was an unspoken understanding, a kind of peace in the silence.

After a while, you found yourself slowing down, feeling the weariness settle back into your bones. Chishiya glanced over at you, as if sensing your exhaustion.

"Want to head back?" he asked, his voice still as calm as ever, his expression unreadable.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak without it betraying how tired you were. You didn’t have to explain it to him; Chishiya understood without needing much.

The two of you returned to your room, and when you stepped inside, the quiet of the night was almost overwhelming after the noise of the hall. You sat on the bed, feeling the tension in your body start to release now that you were back in the safety of your own space.

Chishiya didn’t sit down. Instead, he stood by the door, his figure leaning slightly against the frame. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you.

"Sleep," he finally said, his voice still as lazy as ever. "I’ll make sure nothing happens."

You looked up at him, a little surprised, but you didn’t argue. You didn’t feel the need to. You were tired, and though you weren’t sure why, Chishiya’s presence made you feel like it might be alright to finally rest.

"You don’t need to stay," you said softly, though there was no conviction in your words.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp as ever, but he didn’t argue. "I know," he said simply. "But I’m here. Go to sleep."

And, in the strange comfort of the quiet room and his calm presence, you finally closed your eyes, letting yourself drift off to sleep—knowing that, for the first time that night, you weren’t alone.

Masterlist

#alice in borderland #Ann x reader #Ann Rizuna x reader #Kuina x reader #Kuina Hikari x reader #Aguni x reader #aguni morizono x reader #niragi x reader #Niragi Suguru x reader #last boss x reader #takatora samura x reader #mira kano x reader #mira x reader #chishiya x reader #Chishiya Shuntaro x reader

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sk1ndx0 · 3 months ago

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˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪You. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Niragi x fem!reader

TW: Niragi in general, mentions of smut, cursing

A/N: I honestly can’t tell what kind of relationship dynamic I put these two into but…. It’s there.. I guess 😔💔 IS IT ANGST, IS IT FLUFF????? IDKKKKKKKKKKKK

Summary: You. You took too long to come back to the beach, and Niragi wasn’t very fond of it.

Fucking YOU. You who always got in the way.. you who always had some dumb shit in your head. You couldn’t have died. No.. not yet, at least. You were the only thing keeping Niragi from burning this whole-

Wait. What…??

The fuck was he thinking?? He didn’t care for you. He didn’t give a shit about anyone. He didn’t care if you went on a game by yourself. He wouldn’t allow himself to. He could deal with a couple hours by himself. All those thoughts rushed out at the sound of the hotel door clicking open. Niragi almost tripped getting up from the couch. He met your eyes, some type of emotion ranging between anger and anxiety lacing them. It was silent.. but not for long. Niragi had a habit of ruining such things..

“Where the fuck were you??” He spat out, looking you over once.. twice.. “Took too damn long.. it was just a fucking diamond game for fucks sake.” You had a few cuts and scrapes. Nothing huge. You heard him let out a soft exhale of relief..

“Went out a little longer than expected.” You answered calmly, almost used to this behavior, “It’s almost like you care.” You retorted, as you usually do.

“No I fucking don’t. Don't you know me, Y/N?”

“I do.. maybe not as well as I thought.”

“Well, you still seem whiny as always.” Niragi smirked, softly punching your arm.

Was he usually this tolerable??

“Oh, yeah, no I’m fine, the game was great thanks for asking.” You cross your arms. Your words never held any real bite. Oh no, you saved that hate for better times. “If I knew any better I’d say you were worried about me.”

Niragi shifted, slightly, just enough to show a reaction to the words before slouching in his normally horrid posture. He scoffed slightly and flashed his signature smirk. “You fucking wish.” You just ignored him and watched as he finally became less tense, plopping back down onto the couch. You looked at his rifle, sitting beside him like it was his girlfriend or some shit you couldn’t really explain by yourself. “Are you married to that thing?” You mumbled, jabbing a finger at the rifle like it wasn’t a weapon he could shoot you with at any moment. “Okay Ms. Bitchy-Mood-Switch.” Niragi held up his hands in mock surrender. “You know you’re just jealous.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, “Ridiculous. You’re insufferable.”

“You can’t live without me, we both know it. Who’s gonna keep you on your toes all the time?” Niragi smirked, his arms loosely on the back of the couch. Faint partying could be heard from below. The people of the beach getting drunk, high, fucked, etc.. it’s almost like this is all they can do to forget about the bloodshed out in the real Borderlands. Oh wait.. it is.

Niragi stared at you, his eyes narrowed.

“Thinking about them again? Seriously I don’t know why you fucking bother. They’re not gonna quiet down soon anyways. Besides, you should join ‘em.” Niragi finally spoke, once again, breaking the really needed silence.

“I don’t want to. I won’t. Thanks for the offer though.” You turned to look at him, kicking off your shoes and walking to the couch, sitting down right next to him.

“You know I’m not a party animal. That’s you. You should be down there.”

“Don’t get me started. I fucked almost every girl down there. They’d be all over me.” Niragi snaps back, running a hand through your hair. It wasn’t playful, it wasn’t hurtful.. it was just there. Just enough for you to know that he was real. That you were real.

Honestly, after that game you really needed it. A diamonds game, yes. But a lot of people died in front of you there.

You didn’t lean into his touch, though. Nor did you move away. You just sat there. Like you enjoyed Niragi’s terrifying company..

After more silence, you spoke.

“We should find something to eat. Or maybe drink.” You stretch, standing up. “Or maybe you should go to your own hotel room. This one is mine.”

Niragi slowly got up, as if suddenly all the weight of the world on his entire shoulders. He had a smirk plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now.”

“What? I’m getting up.” Niragi contested, nearly busting out into a state of laughter.

You groaned, grabbing his arm and pulling him up from the couch, making him stumble a bit before catching himself. He grabbed his rifle and slung it over his shoulder before walking to the doorway, turning around and staring at you with something unfamiliar in his eyes.

“If you need me-”

“I won’t.”

You interrupted before shutting the door in his face, letting out a huge breath. God, it felt lighter in here.

What the fuck was that about??

Niragi stood there, a bit dumbfounded before he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, exhaling shortly before walking up to his room.

This wasn’t the end of it. This playful but hateful banter. Honestly, Niragi thought it would never end. You hoped it would end.

Because it wouldn’t.

Not yet.

A/N: OKAY.. this was my first little fanfic thing, and I hoped you liked it. Honestly, I know it was a bit out of context, but I might add parts to this, I just wanted to know if you guys liked it in any way so TYSM FOR READING PLEASE GIVE SOME ADVICE AND IF I SHOULD MAKE THIS A SERIES!!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

-Love Sk1n

#niragi x reader #niragi #aib #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #niragi smut #help idk how to tag #Fanfic #omg these tags are crazy #MY SHAYLAAAS 💔💔💔💔

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thecheshireprincess · 20 days ago

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Birthday

Suguru Niragi x F!Reader

Summary: Niragi has decided to make today your birthday in Borderland, and he’s gathered everyone to worship his queen

Content Warning: Porn with plot, more plot/fluff in this one than in most of my smutfics, OOC Niragi (this is intentional, Reader has changed him), super talkative Niragi, kind of dubious consent at the end (Reader is more drunk than Niragi, but this is an established relationship so let’s just assume they’ve had a conversation about it), as always, Niragi pushing boundaries, some public action, cock-warming I guess, some Daddy kink (look who your author is, just be grateful it isn’t breeding kink this time)

I won't tell anyone what or what not to do, but please interact responsibly ✨️

A/N – Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in - it's Talia!

I wrote this for my sweet friend's birthday last month - I'm sorry it's so late, but I guess it's the thought that counts. I know that if you ever see this, you'll know it was for you. I love you always and hope that you're living the best life ❤️

This will be one of the last updates for the One Look Collection (I have one more story in progress that I hope to push out very soon). Unfortunately, thinking about writing this collection and Niragi in general is just too much right now and I feel like it's holding me back from writing other things.

For now, I'll be putting the collection on hiatus, but it may just become the first work I've ever officially abandoned; I just don't know right now. I hope you enjoy this one anyway, it is a real treat 🥵💕

A groan of protest falls from your lips when you stir from slumber to find your boyfriend's side of the bed empty and cold. You reluctantly pry your sleep-dusted eyes open, wondering if somehow you'd overslept and the man was off attending to his Militant duties already. But the light filtering through the curtains is still tinged red, a tell-tale sign that the sun had just recently begun its ascent from the horizon. Your otherwise empty stomach feels as though you've swallowed a rock, heart pounding thickly in your ears; your body instinctively springing up in concern. In a normal world, his absence would be no big deal, but in this particular world, anything could have happened to him and now you're filled with adrenaline and panic.

Just as you're pulling your thumbnail between your teeth in anxious contemplation of what to do, the door creaks open slowly, the missing man in question appearing in front of you unscathed. A brief once over tells you that he's dressed for the day, balancing a full tray in one hand. Niragi's surprised eyes instantly lock with your wild ones, his expression morphing into a fond smirk at your flustered appearance. You, on the other hand, are scowling and ready to smack the expression right off his face for scaring you like that.

Your boyfriend moves smoothly across the room to close the distance between you, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. One hand gingerly brushes through your untamed locks, the other tilting your chin upwards towards him. "Why are you awake, baby?" he wonders, "Miss me that much?" He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, as if you were acting weird by being awake at this hour when he was the one fully dressed and traipsing around the resort before the sun was even fully awake.

You glare up at his smug expression quizzically, narrowed eyes scanning his face to determine whether he's messing with you or not. It wouldn't be entirely surprising if he was. Niragi's quick to placate your attitude with another tender kiss, this time targeting your pouty, sleep-swollen lips. You melt easily into him, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck to pull him ever closer, knocking him off balance. He catches his weight from crashing down on top of you, his hands pressing into the bed behind you, and his knee nudging your legs slightly open for him. Your lips move gently in a soft dance with his, your noses grazing each other as you switch angles. But when you bite at his lower lip to deepen the kiss, your boyfriend pulls away to leave you breathless and confused.

With a wink, Niragi tucks you back under the still warm covers, guiding your body to relax back against the mountain of pillows behind you and pressing the long forgotten tray onto your lap. It's only now that you notice he’s brought you breakfast in bed, complete with two flutes of what you suspect to be mimosas. Your favorite. He must know that you're still confused because he proceeds to explain himself, sitting gently at the edge of the bed facing you. “You once told me that you missed your birthday party the night you ended up here, and I started thinking that we should celebrate it. Why not today?”

A sniffle escapes you as your eyes fill with happy tears, realizing just how much Niragi had changed over the course of your relationship. Once touch-starved, aggressive, and selfish, the man had become so unbelievably thoughtful and loving, at least towards you. You can’t hide the excitement that blooms in your chest at the thought of actually having something to celebrate in a world so filled with doom and gloom, and allow the grin to stretch across your face. Your fingers eagerly wrap around the glimmering stem of one of the champagne glasses, looking to your boyfriend expectantly to take the matching flute. "Thank you," you whisper, emotions still bubbling in your chest at his gesture. He grins, lightly tipping his glass towards yours with a tiny clink, "Happy birthday, angel." The tangy orange juice coupled with effervescent champagne flows between your lips and burns its way through your insides in the most sinful way.

“Now eat up, pretty girl. I have a lot planned for you today, and we need to get you moving soon,” he instructs with a sparkle in his eye. You nearly choke on the sweet strawberry you'd popped into your mouth, having expected to be kept in bed for the day, assuming Niragi’s definition of celebrating your birthday was more on the you and him only side of things. Niragi had brought other people into his master plan, and for some reason that thought only stokes the flames of desire you feel burning in your core.

For a few moments, you sit in comfortable silence while you graze your birthday breakfast. You find yourself occasionally shifting your thighs together to find some sort of friction - what can you say? Domestic Niragi is hot. “Want some?” you eventually ask your boyfriend, holding out a piece of buttered toast in offering. You were never one to eat much this early anyway. A cocky grin spreads across his face, the man lifting the nearly empty tray off your lap and setting it back on the nightstand. He shakes his head, slowly peeling back the comforter and blankets he'd cocooned around you.

"Think I’d rather have a taste of you,” he whispers suggestively, "I see that needy look in your eyes, baby. Want me so bad, don't you?" Before you can answer, your boyfriend is already settled flat on his stomach with large hands coming to gently part your thighs. Niragi growls lowly, obviously appreciating your choice of sleepwear last night - an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. "No panties last night, princess? My naughty girl," he praises, one lithe finger stroking boldly up through your folds. Your breath stutters in your chest at the sudden intrusion, the man's breath hot against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

"Already dripping for me, angel?" his voice rumbles with desire, his warm tongue flattening to lick an experimental stripe against your wet heat. You’re already panting and gasping for air before he's even really begun, hips wriggling restlessly in search of more. Niragi's forearm comes to lay across your hip bones to hold you still, stapling your body down into the mattress with very little effort. “Take it easy baby, I’m just getting started,” he groans against your pussy, the vibrations traveling delightfully through your molten core. Niragi's tongue eagerly laps up your juices, his pace growing persistent. An obvious goal in mind.

His lips suction around your swollen clit, the cool metal of his tongue ring making you shudder. Two long fingers take the opportunity to stretch easily into your tight hole curling perfectly against your gummy spot with practiced ease. Pleasured pressure builds quickly this way, both of you know it, the rough pads of his fingers bullying the soft spot with purpose. “Soak my face, princess, come on,” he’s growling against you, pupils blown wide as he watches your gorgeous body writhe and pant underneath him. The coil in your belly tightens and tightens, Niragi playing your body like a fiddle, back arching almost painfully toward his hot mouth, “Cum for me, my good girl.” The relentless stimulation and his praise overwhelm your senses, the pressure in your core squirting out on the silky sheets and all over your boyfriend's face. White hot light creeps into the edges of your vision and despite your hearing being temporarily disabled, you know that you're squealing loudly. Shaky legs attempt to snap shut around Niragi's head, but he's having none of that.

The man in question firmly holds your legs open, stroking nonsensical patterns over your inner thighs and tongue hurriedly lapping up all that you've offered him. "That's my good girl, you did so well for me," he soothes, voice raspy as he carries you through your blinding orgasm. Niragi’s pierced tongue continues slurping up through your wetness, your entire body jolting when the cool metal presses against your ultra-sensitive clit. “Niragiiiiii, too much,” you whine, gripping into his soft, black locks to pull the man up and away from your oversensitive pussy. “Too much, hm? I haven’t worshipped this body nearly as much as it deserves. You ready for a break?” he wonders, licking and biting at your chest. You nod weakly, phantom spasms from your previous orgasm still wracking your body.

“Well then, angel, let's get you off to your next destination,” he tells you, wiping his chin that was shiny with your slick. "But first . . ." He trails off, leaning over to his nightstand drawer and pulling out a wrapped package. You accept the present with widened doe eyes, pressing your lips against his, humming in pleasure when you taste yourself on him. Your tongue runs along his lower lip, taking the opportunity of his low groan to lick into his mouth and tangle with his. One hand comes up to press tantalizingly at your throat, squeezing once in warning, "If you keep that up, you'll never leave this bed, baby." Your eyelashes flutter innocently at him, the man leaning back with a groan. You'll be the death of him.

Your fingers delicately peel apart the wrapping paper, suddenly trying hard to cherish the feeling of opening a present - something you had most definitely taken for granted back in the old world. You're met face to face with a stunning emerald green bikini set, intricate gold and white beading along the strings. "Wear it for me today?" Niragi asks, studying your reaction with bated breath.

"I love it, baby, thank you," you tell him, voice a little watery with emotion again. You leap from the bed to try it on, lifting the oversized t-shirt over your head uninhibited and teasing. You slip the bottoms on over your still shaky legs as Niragi helps to situate the top over your chest. His nimble fingers loop the strings into a bow, arms instantly looping around your exposed belly, pulling you tight into his chest to hold you in front of the floor length mirror. He watches you for a moment before bowing his head to suck a bruise into the delicate skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You aren't shy about rubbing your ass back on his rock hard length, wondering briefly if you should just stay like this all day. The hand splayed on your belly travels slowly down and under the new bikini bottoms, the man groaning when he feels how you've already soaked through them. "I have half a mind to cancel everything and fuck you to the edge of your life, you minx," he tells you, middle finger circling your aching and puffy clit.

You decide that you're good with that. But your boyfriend somehow has more self control than you today, and he's quick to remove his fingers from your wetness, lewdly sucking the arousal from his digits. His hand finds yours before he can change his mind, guiding you quickly down the hall to a door you’re very familiar with, Kuina’s.

Niragi knocks three times on the hard wood, the woman popping her head out almost immediately as though she's been waiting. "You're late," she grumbles at him, tapping one foot impatiently. The two of them are still frenemies at best, even after all this time. Your boyfriend shrugs with one shoulder, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Had to take care of some things," he tells her, quirking his eyebrows, making her grimace. Her face brightens, though, when she catches sight of you, throwing the door open with a loud bang to pull you into a tight hug. “Happy birthday!” she shrieks, her loudness making Niragi scowl. “You look stunning in that color. Seriously, you are perfection. Come on, are you ready for your birthday makeover?” she asks, eyes wide and filled with excitement. Makeovers were her favorite thing, after all.

You tilt your head in confusion at her, turning back to look at your boyfriend for confirmation. He’s leaning lazily against the opposite wall, waiting for you to go inside with your friend. He nods, reaching a hand out to grip your arm and pull you close to him for a moment. “Part of your birthday celebration is getting all dolled up,” he tells you, nose brushing lightly against yours. You grin up at him, pulling yourself up to meet his lips with yours in thanks. A low groan slips out as you taste yourself still against his lips, the man licking into your mouth as he pulls you closer.

Kuina clears her throat, knowing that you’ve completely forgotten she was standing there. “Get a room if you’re going to do all of that,” she whines exasperatedly, jokingly slapping a hand over her eyes. Niragi pulls away to look up at the woman, hand still cradling the base of your neck. “We have a room,” he reminds her, “It sees plenty of action.” Kuina shudders just thinking about it, turning to walk back into the room, “Trust me, I know!”

Niragi's face is pulled into something smug and cocky, and you know you should be afraid of whatever is about to come out of his mouth. "Don't even think about covering up my marks, hm?" Kuina groans, casting a look to you to find your neck and collarbone covered in swollen red bites and bruises, "Do you have to be so possessive?" she shrieks at him, "You're like a feral dog!"

Niragi is already strutting away in the opposite direction, head tilted back in a wicked cackle.

Once it's just the two of you, Kuina leads you to sit in the squishy desk chair, rolling you to the makeshift vanity you'd helped her build over the last few weeks. The mahogany surface is littered in hair care products, make up, and a wide array of hair accessories, every that you could possibly [not] need in a post-apocalyptic world.

Hands on your shoulders, she catches your gaze in the mirror. "Are you sure we can't find you a better boyfriend?" She teases, beginning to run a brush delicately through your hair.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Niragi hadn’t cut corners. The entire pool deck is decorated with streamers, balloons, and pretty twinkling lights that would easily be the star of the show once the sun went down. You wonder briefly how many people Niragi had threatened to make all of this come together, but decide you don’t really need or want to know the answer to that. A pink, fruity cocktail is pressed into your hands by a grinning Usagi, her and Arisu pulling you into a tight hug and showering you with birthday wishes. You're completely taken aback that everyone is here to celebrate with you, the emotions threatening to spill over once again.

For the first time in forever, you feel like you can imagine your life still being somewhat normal. Like you're celebrating your birthday at a beach resort. You beat Last Boss and his presumed crush (you still need to get more information about this) at beer pong; partnered with Niragi, you beat Arisu and Usagi at chicken in the pool; and Chishiya even helps you win your first ever game of Blackjack. Between shots and lots of flowing cocktails, you find yourself passed around between all your friends at The Beach, taking a turn dancing and chatting with each of them. You're laughing harder than you have in weeks, especially as the alcohol begins to takeover and you all get a bit clumsier on your feet. Even Aguni moves you to the beat for a little while, dancing much like you would imagine a dad would his daughter. It's really sweet. It is he who eventually twirls you back into Niragi’s arms, the man pulling you close, cradling you against his chest as he rocks in tandem with you. Though he's not one for dancing very often, he humors you for a few songs before passing you back to a rosy-cheeked Kuina to dance longer. You dance until your legs won’t hold you up any longer, opting to get more drinks from the bar with your friends.

Before you know it, it’s late and the sun’s been asleep for hours; your skin sun-warmed to the touch and your head fuzzy from spending all day in the sun and drinking nothing but liquor. The majority of The Beach has filtered out from the party at this point, everyone drunk and sunburnt, but filled with joy from a great day. You and Kuina stumble arm-in-arm over to the table that Niragi is sitting at with a couple of other Militants, the latter dropping you off with your boyfriend before stumbling away to sleep it off. You give Kuina a quick, sloppy kiss on the cheek before flopping down in the plastic chair beside Niragi, the man instantly looking at you with a crooked smile. He pulls you into his lap, shielding you from the chilly night air with a blanket he'd brought from the room. His tongue and teeth effortlessly find his favorite spot on your neck, making your insides light up in desire. “Did you have a fun birthday, angel?” he asks between kisses, your dazed body responding to his hardening length underneath you. You nod in affirmation, shivering as his hands ghost along the waistband of your bikini bottoms.

"Still nice and wet for me, baby?" He wonders lowly, enticing a breathy moan from you. His impatient fingers slip under your bikini bottom hidden under the guise the blanket, collecting your wetness and circling your clit.

“I can think of a thing or two that would make it the best birthday ever,” you tell him, voice cracking as white hot desire licking up through your core and ribcage. A low growl reverberates in his chest, boldly sinking his middle finger into your needy hole. His mouth presses hot against the shell of your ear, “Is that right, angel? Cum for me without getting caught and I’ll reward you with what you really want.” Your stomach flips at his request, adrenaline surging at the thought of being fingered in front of the Militants around you. You lean back into your boyfriend's chest with a shaky breath out, the combination of his thumb swirling around your clit and his finger fucking into you leaving you buzzing and breathless.

“Ya doing okay over there, birthday girl? Didn’t party too hard, did ya? Lookin’ kind of sweaty,” one of the Militants sitting across from you calls out gruffly. The four others sitting around the table with you look up to see what he’s talking about, all of them nodding and agreeing that you seem a little flushed and maybe you aren’t feeling so well? Your stomach sinks as you think you’ve been caught, but the pleasure Niragi is giving you is too delicious to pull away from. You nod your head with a strangled hum of affirmation, Niragi taking the opportunity to slip another persistent digit inside you. Your tight pussy stretches so well around him, you can feel his length under you growing impossibly harder with a twitch. Niragi tilts his head down to study your face, “Aww, she’s okay, aren’t you angel? You just feel so good after all that attention you got, right?” If pleasure and alcohol weren't coursing hotly through your veins right now, you’d smack your boyfriend for his insinuation.

But as it stands, you’re already getting close to your high. The familiar coil has begun to wrap itself tightly in your lower belly, and you wish you weren’t sitting in front of a group of Niragi’s friends so you could beg him to get you there faster. Instead, you attempt to covertly take matters into your own hands, subtly grinding yourself into his hand and by proximity, his still covered and untouched cock. The man’s breath catches in his throat, obviously drunk off the way you're moving against him. His lips once again latch at your collarbone, nipping tiny welts into every inch of your skin that he can reach. “Go on, angel, show Daddy what you need,” he whispers just for you to hear, matching the pace that you're grinding your hips at. You suppress a whimper that threatens to give you away, the dam inside you breaking with a warm gush of arousal, soaking Niragi's fingers and jeans.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls lightly in your ear, the tiniest whimper escaping your lips as your tight cunt spasms around your boyfriend’s fingers. You dig your nails into Niragi's wrist, body shaking under the blanket from your concealed orgasm. You're left breathless and jittery and still so damn needy for him. A whine slips from your swollen lips, and you quickly turn to look up at your boyfriend, "C-can we go to bed now? Really tired." He clicks his tongue, eyes trailing almost mockingly over your flushed face, "Of course, baby. It is your birthday after all." He stands, lifting you and your guardian blanket with ease, saying the shortest good night to the Militants of all time before hurriedly carrying you to your shared room.

The second that your body hits the fluffy cushion of your shared bed, your boyfriend is crawling up the bed towards you, pants and boxers already abandoned by the door and rapidly unbuttoning his shirt. “That was fun and all, but now I want to really worship my queen,” he growls, teeth and tongue nipping a path up from your feet to your dripping cunt. You whimper pathetically when he spreads you open further with his thumb, his tongue licking straight up through your folds and suckling on your clit. “Tastes so divine, angel, fuck. You’ll make me cum completely untouched,” he whines against your sensitive skin.

Your head is thrown back from all the stimulation of the day, everything suddenly catching up to you and you want to cry. “Please, Daddyyy,” you whine, desperate to finally be spread on his cock. He hums in faux contemplation, eyes shining with mischief as he licks slowly up your belly. His pierced tongue makes your cunt drip arousal onto your comforter, swirling briefly around each of your perky nipples.

“You were such a good girl for me today, baby,” he tells you, jerking his cock in his hand a couple of times, “You ready to cum on Daddy’s cock?” A lewd moan rumbles from your chest and you nod frantically, you have been waiting all day for Niragi to finally spread you open. In one swift motion, he thrusts his leaking member up through your tight channel, filling you and stretching you so completely you nearly forget how to breathe. Your cunt feels like home to him too, the man pulling one of your legs up and around his waist, fingers pressed tight into your skin as he holds you there for a minute. You think for a moment that he’s giving you the chance to adjust to him, but really your pussy is clenched so tight around him that he has to take a moment to try not to blow his load inside you immediately.

“Fuuck, baby. No matter how many times I stretch out this perfect pussy it’s always so tight for me,” he whines, balls instantly feeling heavier against the rounded swell of your ass. “Please Niragi, moveee,” you whimper, hands reaching out for him – to touch him? For support? You don’t know, you just want more. The man responds in earnest by collecting your wrists in one of his large hands, yanking both of your arms up over your head as he pulls out to thrust all the way back in. Your other leg comes to instinctively wrap around his waist with the other one, Niragi fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He is so hard from all the teasing all day that you can feel every vein and groove in his member, all of them serving to add to your growing pleasure. “Look at how well you take me, angel,” he demands, his free hand coming to rest on your belly where you can see the outline of him pounding into you. He groans when your pussy flutters at the view, you are such a good girl for him.

It doesn’t take long for him to have your eyes rolling back into your head, his free hand having traveled down from your belly, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit for extra stimulation. Both of you are transfixed on the white ring that forms at the base of Niragi’s cock, proof that you’re getting closer and closer to climax once more.

“N-niragi . . .” you whimper, each deep thrust reverberating through your body and making you stutter, “I-I’m so close.” The sweat is beading at his forehead and dripping down his flushed shoulders, the effort he’s putting in to drill you into your shared bed at a high. A gorgeous moan leaves your boyfriend’s kiss swollen lips as he tips his head back, “Fuck, me too, angel. Gonna fill your pussy up, claim what’s mine.”

“Please,” you beg, your tight little hole clenching even tighter around his length, desperate for him to fill you with his cum. “Cum, my birthday girl. Cum for me,” he snarls, desperate for you to let go before he finishes. One, two, three more thrusts and you’re wailing, head thrown back as your back arches off the bed. You see the moon while your cunt spasms, milking Niragi’s cock for all he’s worth. He’s quick to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, rope after rope of his sticky white seed shooting into your womb. You swallow each others' moans as your tongues tangle aggressively, a mess of saliva and arousal proof of your lewd encounter. Your boyfriend pulls back, sticky forehead pressed against yours, allowing him to take in your glowing form underneath him as you work through your aftershocks.

Niragi catches himself from collapsing on top of you, rolling the two of you gently so his softening cock can stay inside while you rest on his chest, never once tearing his eyes from the way your gorgeous, dewy skin. You tilt your head up to capture his lips in another lazy kiss, lips moving gracefully against his as cum starts to leak out from inside you.

Tiredly, you lay your head against his bare chest, eyes barely staying open after such a long day. Your boyfriend’s nails scratch soothingly along your bare back and arms, effortlessly lulling you into a heavy slumber. You can get cleaned up in the morning, it is your birthday after all.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, “I love you.”

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

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s0ullove22 · 3 months ago

Text

- I Know You, I Walked with You Once Upon a Dream - part 1

Pairing: Niragi × Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, mention pre-borderlands, Slow Burn, Dark-kind of

⸻

The last time you saw Niragi, it was in a time when the world still made sense. The world wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t this broken. He was still… human then. Still someone you could trust.

You remember those late nights in the city—before everything crumbled. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Niragi had another side. He was always loud, always angry, but there was something underneath that, something real. His laughter, his smile—those moments were fleeting, but they were yours, and they meant more than he ever knew.

But then came the chaos. And the games. And the Borderlands. Everything shifted.

You thought you’d never see him again. But then, there he was, standing across the battlefield in the dark, his eyes wild, filled with a something that barely masked something else. Something darker.

Niragi, the man you knew, was gone.

But there was still a trace of him—just beneath the violence and the madness. And as you locked eyes with him, the past rushed forward like a storm.

⸻

“I knew it was you,” Niragi’s voice broke the silence, his tone rough, like he hadn’t used it in years. His eyes swept over you, tracing every detail of your face, as if he was trying to piece together a memory that had been buried. “Always knew I’d see you again.”

You froze. His voice hit you like a punch to the gut. How long had it been since you last heard that voice?

You didn’t want to show the shock, the sudden pain that flared in your chest, but it was impossible to ignore. Niragi, standing there in front of you, in this world, was nothing like the man you once knew. The man who smiled without hesitation, who used to whisper things like “I’ll protect you,” in the quiet hours of the night, as if those words could still mean something now.

But now, those words felt like a ghost of the past—gone, hollow.

“So, you’ve become one of them.” You tried to sound indifferent, but your voice cracked. Your heart ached at the sight of him—no longer just a friend, no longer someone you trusted. He was broken, like the rest of this world.

He didn’t answer at first, only watched you closely. There was a hunger in his gaze, something more than just the violence of the Borderlands. It was the hunger of someone who hadn’t been able to hold onto anything pure. Of someone who had lost everything.

“You’re still here,” Niragi muttered, his voice a low growl. “You should’ve stayed gone. Should’ve stayed out of this place.”

You shook your head, trying to control the lump in your throat. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to be here, seeing you like this?” You wanted to lash out, to hurt him the way he was hurting you. But instead, you swallowed your anger. “I didn’t ask for any of this. None of us did.”

A bitter laugh escaped Niragi’s lips. “But we’re here now.” He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I’m not letting you go this time. You were always too good for this place… But you’re here now, just like me.”

You didn’t know if it was his proximity or the way his words felt too real, too close to home, but your chest tightened. This wasn’t the Niragi you remembered. He was colder now, more dangerous. But the connection between you hadn’t faded— it was buried deep under the chaos and violence, waiting to surface.

“What do you want from me?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He smiled, but it was empty, cruel. “What I’ve always wanted,” he said, taking another step toward you. “To make sure you remember who you belong to.”

Before you could respond, he was close enough to feel the heat of his breath on your skin. The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. His hand reached out, touching your face with a gentleness that felt wrong coming from him. “I knew you once,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft. “You were mine before all this. You belong to me still.”

You wanted to push him away, to reject his words, but you couldn’t move. The weight of his gaze was too much. This wasn’t the man you used to know. This was someone different, someone more broken. And you hated yourself for still wanting to believe in the past, for wanting him back.

“No, Niragi,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re not the same. We’re not the same.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Maybe not,” he said softly, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “But I know you. I always will.”

And as his lips brushed against yours, you couldn’t tell if it was a kiss born out of love or hatred—or if it was something darker, something that only the Borderlands could create. But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew the truth: he was still the same Niragi you once knew, only buried beneath a monster made by this broken world.

And no matter how much you hated it, part of you still wanted him.

_______________

Part 2 will be better trust me!!

Bye my loves~❤️

#fanfic #niragi alice in borderland #niragi x reader #niragi suguru #aib niragi #niragi x oc #alice in borderland #aib x reader

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niragixpsych · 2 years ago

Note

"Staying late again you say..." Kukki sighed softly, in an attempt to not give away that this kind of made her sad. It's been like this for the past few days too, Niragi having to do overwork hours to advance on the project. She missed the evenings they spent together and the sweet time in his arms, but Kukki also knew that voicing how lonely she felt would only cause Niragi more stress. So for now she just had to endure and wait a little bit longer. After he'll be done with this project, things will go back to normal, right? "Studying is going well." The silver haired masked her slight disappointment with one of her warm smiles and proceeded with serving him with the delicious food.

The soft sigh coming from Kukki let him know more than she certainly wanted him to know. He knew well that she didn't like it if he had to stay at work late, but from time to time he simply couldn't help it. Some of the games he was working on took longer to develop than they had anticipated and he always wanted to help to make it as perfect as possible. "I will try to set myself a time limit so I won't come home too late so you will be sleeping already." Niragi tried his best to reassure her and then he focused on what she told him about her studies. "It's good to hear that. I hope you're taking a break now and then." He said before watching Kukki unpack all the food she got for them. Once all the food was out he grabbed one pair of chopsticks and tried a bite. "It's good." He commented before grabbing another bite to hold it in front of her lips in a casual manner.

#ask niragi #answer #your sweet cookie #kukki.#wildcat.#niragi interaction

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kuinaoflight · 2 years ago

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Under the blanket of night, a tapestry of stars, clouds cushioned the moon during whatever ungodly hour it was. Closer to daybreak at this point? All Kuina knew was that she needed to rest. Her body craved it, weary and broken from her past games. The knife wounds and bruises that decorated her skin were still screaming from the relentless assault she’d endured from the Jack of Spades game and all of her muscles ached from the Queen of Clubs game more recently. She was tired of fighting. But her brain was restless, far too exhausted to have a civilized conversation with the person who took every thought and feeling she attempted to form into words from a logical perspective. It had always been like this, hadn’t it? With Kuina trying to explain how she felt and Chishiya’s computer-like brain unable to download and process exactly what she’d been trying to convey. Emotionally led, Kuina’s words flew from the tip of her tongue before she had a chance to fully register what it was she was trying to say. Repetitive, surely, from their argument in front of everyone else. But would they at least land this time? ‘That’s not true.’ Her gaze fell to her lap, drawn to watching Chishiya's thumbs gently trace her knuckles, his touch soothing the dull ache they still held, miraculously not broken from each final blow that had landed. Chishiya’s tenderness had always surprised her, the complete opposite of his usual demeanor sharp as a blade. Touch light as a feather, caring where she was used to being met with hands that expected her to fight back. He’d taken her broken pieces and healed them with each wound he’d patched and stitched. A tenderness that almost brought her to tears. Or it was the effect of the words she so desperately wanted to believe? Always their plan. Followed by a logical explanation influenced by a persuasive tone Kuina was taken aback to hear...but what might've been led by a desire to be fooled again and to live in blissful ignorance.

She dared to meet Chishiya’s gaze once more, the tone that underlined his words coaxing it involuntarily, immediately wishing she hadn't. Actions spoke louder than words, Kuina had to remind herself of that. “You let Arisu take the fall for breaking into the wrong safe and questioned my sanity when I hinted we should go back for him…and apparently you attempted to murder Niragi back at the Beach too." Somewhere along the way...Kuina hadn't fathomed exactly what Chishiya was capable of...and perhaps that's what scared her the most. "All decisions made by you and you alone. ...you didn’t even think to discuss such sacrifices with me first?” Oh, it was in the form of a question, not an accusation. If Chishiya had brought it up, would it have changed the trajectory of their path now? Would they be spending this last night entangled together whispering promises they wished to fulfill in the real world? But there it was, the truth...her death was once a consideration for his gain. ‘Say you’re not done.’ The timbres of his voice almost a plea sent a shiver down her spine. A selfish wanton desire stirred within her that Chishiya seemed to sense time and time again no matter how hard she tried to hide it. ‘You know you still care about.. whatever this is between us.’ How cruel to call her out so effortlessly. Had she always been so easily read? Kuina could only watch as Chishiya lifted her bruised hand to cradle his cheek, faltering under the softened expression he wore the second the palm of her skin connected with his face. Believable and so soft it made her want to melt. Curse the way electricity flooded through her veins when Chishiya took initiative to engage physical touch between them rare and fleeting. “Why…?” She dared whisper, a silent beg of her own while refusing to be the one to yield or shy away from the proximity between them. “Why are you suddenly so desperate for me not to be done when it’s all you’ve ever expressed wanting, Chishiya?” The harshness from before had left her voice, leaving her with nothing but defeat under crumbled resolve.

@hoodedchishiya

Once her hands finally ceased their merciless feud on her backpack, Chishiya made it a point to hold her stare when her gaze finally met his, eyes boring into hers with the exact same intensity he’d regarded her with back when they’d first met. Intense as it was, the blond wasn’t going to be the first to break eye contact. ‘Talk to you..?’ Those parroted words were almost enough to make him wince. Clearly she still wasn’t in the best of moods. His mouth fell open immediately in a futile attempt to expand on what he meant, however.. Kuina was quick to cut him short with more accusing words, ones that were equally just as sharp and bitter as the ones spat at him earlier and delivering their intended blow to his heart.

The best way he could describe the feeling was that someone had taken a sharp dagger and plunged it right through his chest. Right through his ribcage and into his heart which had been left in critical condition.

’With you everything is and was a secret.’ ‘It wasn’t ours.. it was never ours.’ What was she saying..? While Chishiya knew that it was best to let her get everything off her chest first before even attempting to smooth things over with her, he couldn’t help but to interject. “That’s not true.” The blond was quick to speak up, thumbs smoothing over her bruised knuckles which were now black and blue due to her struggles. Did they hurt as much as his heart did? “It was our plan. It was always our plan. I waited for you. I could’ve left you to burn with the Ten of Hearts card safely secured, but did I?” The hurt in his voice was clear as day, yet his expression remained schooled into one of calm.

Expressing emotions had never been his thing. Often described as having an emotional range of a teaspoon, it wasn’t hard to see why people thought that of him. A devious smirk or a blank stare.. there was simply no in between. However, with Kuina he was learning. Finally becoming the person he has always wanted to be. Or at least he had been before she started giving him the cold shoulder. When had she decided she’d had enough of him? Was it Arisu and Usagi’s betrayal that had done it for her? Or maybe hearing about his failed attempt to kill Niragi on the rooftop of the hotel? Or did her doubts creep in before all of that?

How typical of him, right? Happiness was within his grasp. Having someone to potentially spend the rest of his life with.. and now that image has been tarnished all because of himself. He thought he’d found that with Kuina, but.. clearly not. After all, it wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t bear the sight of him anymore. With dozens of second chances failed on his part, it was only natural that she was fed up of him and his condescending nature.

And just when Chishiya thought that she couldn’t hurt him anymore than she already had.. her next sentence broke the short silence between them. ’I’m done, Chishiya. I can’t do this anymore.’ Did she really mean that after everything they had been through? It was enough to earn her a dumbfounded stare. “..You’re letting everything get to your head. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to survive. I’m not the only person who made sacrifices here, but everyone seems to forget that.” He scoffed, eyebrows furrowing just slightly to convey his annoyance. “And to answer your question.. No. I wouldn’t leave you to die. Maybe I’ve debated it in the past, but I didn’t.” An admission that didn’t help his case at all, but this was a time for being honest. All truths needed to be aired, pleasant or not.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Chishiya risked scooting further into the tent to get closer to her. He could still win her over, right? Just like he always did. Just like he always had. “Say you’re not done.” His voice was lower this time, tone a hushed whisper as if begging for another chance. “You know you still care about.. whatever this is between us. So how about you drop this?” Leaning in ever so slightly in hopes that the close proximity would be a reminder of all the good memories shared together before the Ten of Hearts game, he took her hand and moved it up to rest against his cheek, expression instantly softening from that simple touch alone.

@kuinaoflight

#alice in borderland roleplay #alice in borderland rp #aib rp #aib roleplay #kuina hikari rp #hikari kuina rp #hoodedchishiya

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ankababy · 1 month ago

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Also In That Another Universe…

Niragi x reader

Part 2 of In Another Universe bc y’all wanted more of them, so I granted the wish. Started writing a cute bathtub scene and it ended in sex, sorry.

cw. MDNI, unprotected p in v(please use protection y’all), happy sex(? if that’s a thing), bathtub sex, nicknames(“sunshine” and the overuse of “baby” bc they’re corny and in love and cute), loving relationship, reader not shutting the FUCK up because she’s sugar spice and everything nice

Also in that another universe…

The bathroom was fogged over, mirrors blurred with steam. The bathwater was a little too close to boiling, the kind that makes your skin turn pink and your brain go floaty. It was perfect—at least for you.

For Niragi? Not so much.

He was sitting across from you in the tub, long legs bent under the water, arms resting behind him like he was just barely tolerating the situation. His jaw was tense, like he was trying not to say something snarky about the temperature, and the tips of his ears were flushed—not from embarrassment, just from borderline boiling alive. But he didn’t say shit.

Because you liked it this way.

You sat facing him, legs tangled lazily between his, skin glowing and damp, eyes bright even through the haze. Your hair was twisted up in a loose bun, but he liked it more than anything that took you two hours and a YouTube tutorial. You were bare—nothing on but water and heat and that calm little smile that said you were in your element.

“So I started taking those biotin gummies I told you about.” you said, swirling the water absentmindedly with your fingers. “The strawberry ones? They’re amazing. When I was a teenager I ate a whole box in a day but they didn’t have to wash my stomach or anything. Might try to do it again.”

Niragi grunted. It wasn’t anything really, just to tell you that he’s still listening.

“I went out with the girls yesterday.” you said, dipping your hands under the water again, letting them skim up your legs. “We saw this little boutique in the plaza, right next to that coffee shop we sometimes go to. And they had this gorgeous lingerie set in the window. Like, satin, black, sheer, all strappy. I loved it.”

His eyes flicked up, finally interested. “And?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t buy it.”

He squinted. “Why the fuck not?”

You smiled at the way his voice dipped—that mild disbelief that you denied yourself something he would’ve killed to see on you.

“It was expensive.” you said. “And it’s not like I need it. You never care what I wear.”

He blinked. “Yeah, ‘cause I’d fuck you in a paper bag.”

You kicked your foot under the water, hitting his thigh. “You’re such an asshole.”

You were so soft in moments like this. So open. Talking about nothing like it mattered. Because in a way, it did. You didn’t need anything more.

And he liked that.

He liked that you didn’t demand these big, emotional conversations every time you were alone. You didn’t want to dig through his trauma, or beg him to pour his heart out over dinner. You just wanted to be with him. Here. Now. In too hot water, talking about vitamins and lingerie and whatnot.

The water sloshed softly as you moved again, shifting forward a little, your knees brushing his. Your skin glowed in the low light, beads of water catching on your collarbones, the curves of your shoulders, sliding down between your breasts. You didn’t notice. You weren’t trying.

That was the thing, you were never trying. You were just this. Bare and unbothered and golden with affection, talking to him.

His eyes tracked you—always watching, always on you. You talked. He didn’t. Not really. But his knee pressed against yours. His foot slid along your leg. One hand slipped under the water to rest against your thigh, fingers spreading.

It was his body that did the loving. His touch, not his voice.

“Your piercings.” you said, scooting in closer, water rising with the shift. “You ever tell me why you got them?”

His brow lifted. “They’re piercings, not ancient runes.” he said dryly.

“I know.” you said, reaching forward, fingers brushing the silver thing in his eyebrow. “But still. You had to pick this one, right? That’s a choice.”

He tilted his head but didn’t move away. Your touch was featherlight, tracing the metal, the line of his brow bone beneath it. You leaned in, face close to his, studying the way it glinted in the foggy light.

“You look good with it.” you murmured, thumb brushing over the silver. “A little mean.”

“That’s the goal.”

You tapped his cheek gently. “Asshole.” Then your eyes dropped lower. “Tongue.”

He raised an eyebrow at the “ask,” then he opened his mouth and poked his tongue out for you before drawing it back in almost immediately.

“Still there.” he said. “Why?”

You leaned forward, completely unbothered, elbows on your knees now as you stared at his mouth. “No reason. Just… you don’t show it a lot.”

“I don’t do party tricks.”

“You could if you wanted to.” you said. “Bet someone would love to see that silver ball roll across your teeth.”

“You volunteering?” he asked, giving you a look.

You laughed, light and warm, then kicked him gently in the side with your foot under the water. “No.” you said, smiling.

Your fingers trailed down from his brow to the line of his jaw, then under his chin, tilting his face up slightly. You weren’t trying to seduce him. Not really. You were just curious.

“Did it hurt?” you asked softly, fingertips just under his lip now. “When you got it?”

He shrugged. “It’s a needle in your tongue. Hurts like a bitch. Then you can’t eat for two days.”

You smiled, because he was so bad at admitting pain in an actual serious way. Like it made him less. Like softness was poison. But then there he was, letting you touch him this gently, letting your legs tangle with his. And you knew the truth, even if he didn’t say it.

“You’re such a baby.” you said sweetly.

He pinched your thigh under the water—just a little. Enough to make you squeak.

Your hand moved to his chest, tracing the line of his collarbone, the faint scar you always meant to ask about but never did. You let your palm rest there for a moment, flat against the thrum of his heartbeat. Slow. Steady.

“You look tired.” you said quietly.

“I am.”

“You should sleep.”

“I will.”

“When?”

“When you do.”

You didn’t say anything to that. Just slid a little closer in the water, so your knees pressed into his side and your arms hooked around his shoulders.

Your cheek rested against his, warm and wet, and you breathed in the scent of soap and heat and him.

“You’re not so scary.” you whispered.

His hand came up under the water, slid around your waist, fingers splayed on your lower back. Tight. Holding. Still no words. But he didn’t need them. He never did.

Your fingers moved over the side of his neck, brushing damp hair behind his ear. Your touch was slow, casual, familiar—the kind of intimate that didn’t ask permission anymore. He just let you, eyes half-lidded, like you weren’t completely rearranging his chemistry with every soft word and inch you inched closer.

“Your skin’s all flushed.” you murmured, tilting your head. “I knew it. You hate this. You’re dying in here.”

His jaw flexed. “It’s fine.”

“You’re boiling.”

“You like it hot.”

You laughed, leaning in so your chest brushed his, nipples dragging wet and lazy over his skin beneath the water. “Thank you.”

You moved again, water sloshing around your thighs as you straddled him without warning, knees bracketing his hips, the tip of his cock brushing up along your inner thigh where the water shifted. His hands making themselves comfortable around waist out of instinct. One slid down, fingers curling under your ass, dragging you flush against him.

You smiled, pressing your mouth to his jaw. Softly, once. Then again. Then his cheek. His temple. You didn’t rush it. You kissed the side of his mouth next. Then again, slower. This time, he turned his head just enough that your mouths brushed fully. Not quite kissing. Not pulling away, either.

Your hands curled behind his neck, pulling yourself in closer. You shifted your hips just slightly—not to start anything. Just to feel him. The way his cock stiffened under you without effort. The way he held you tighter with that one hand under your ass, gripping into the flesh like he couldn’t help it.

“You always touch me like this.” you murmured, rocking just a little in the water. “Even when you don’t say shit.”

“I am saying shit.” Niragi said lowly, his thumb tracing over your hip. “You just don’t listen.”

You reached for his face again, thumbs brushing over his brows, down his cheeks. You kissed his mouth—longer now, with tongue, wet and deep and slow. His tongue piercing brushed yours, sudden, making you moan into him.

That seemed to hit something. He pulled your hips down harder, chest flush with yours now, water rising against your torsos, sloshing between you as his mouth moved rougher. Still not fast. But more.

Your hands moved to his hair, tugging gently, your knees tightening around his waist. You let your hips grind down on him, not enough to push things over, but enough to make a point. To let him feel it. Your laugh bubbled out of you, sweet, echoing off the tiled walls as his hand slid down your spine, wet fingers splayed low across your back. You let out a little shriek, the delighted kind, as you jolted at the sudden heat of his palm groping lower again.

“Hey!” you giggled, squirming in his lap, the water sloshing up over the edge of the tub. “Don’t grab me like that if you’re not gonna do something about it!”

He smiled, eyes lazy, head tilted against the edge of the tub like he wasn’t being driven crazy by the way you rocked your hips against him, slowly, teasingly, water slipping and sliding between your bodies.

“Keep talking.” he muttered, low and flat, his fingers sinking harder into your ass, pulling you tight against his cock. “Let’s see how long you last.”

“Oh my god.” you laughed again, shoulders shaking as you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, still riding that line—not quite fucking, not quite innocent. Your body rolled over him in slow, playful waves. “You’re so mean to me. You know that?”

“Yeah.” he said, “And you love it.”

“I do.” you said sweetly, kissing the corner of his mouth again. “I love you so much, you asshole.”

He let you kiss him, let your mouth linger there, and then again on his jaw, his ear, your soft breath warming the side of his face. Your legs tightened around his waist as you rocked your hips again—this time slower, deeper, dragging your slickness over the length of his cock beneath the water. The feeling was muted, wet and warm and perfect, the steam curling around both your bodies as you moved.

You pulled back just enough to look at him again, hair clinging to your shoulders, water dripping off your chin. You looked happy. Really happy. Glowing in that way that had nothing to do with the light or steam—it was you. That deep, real happiness that came from being with him, even when he barely spoke, even when he gave nothing but his hands and the hard weight of his cock under you.

“You feel so good.” you whispered, biting back another breathy laugh as he shifted his hips just slightly, grinding up into you, slipping in a bit. “You’re always so—fuck, shut up.”

He didn’t reply, but the muscle in his jaw twitched. His hand gripped your ass harder. Your eyes fluttered. Water sloshed and spilled over the edge of the tub with every grind of your slick skin on his cock, not even in you yet—just sliding through the wet mess between your thighs, rutting against the underside of you like your body couldn’t wait for more.

One hand slid up to your waist, while the other dipped lower, under the water, rough fingers sliding between your thighs, teasing where you were swollen and soaked for him.

You shrieked—a high, shocked sound of joy—and slapped his chest with a wet smack.

“Asshole!” you giggled, clinging to him, thighs trembling around his waist.

“Mhm.” he replied flatly, dragging his fingers back through your folds, middle one circling slow and firm around your clit now, not teasing anymore.

You whimpered, face buried in his neck, voice trembling between laughter and something rawer, almost crying now from how good it all felt.

Then, he stopped. Grabbed the base of his dick, guiding you up.

“…Oh.” you whispered, still smiling, still panting. “Wait—oh.”

“Sit.” Niragi told you, voice low.

You held his eyes. You could’ve made a joke. Something about being a good girl, or asking please, or teasing him one more time. But you didn’t. You just sank down.

The stretch knocked the air from your lungs.

Your mouth opened in a silent gasp, fingers digging into Niragi’s shoulders, your chest trembling with the sound of it. Your laughter was gone now—not lost, just tucked behind something bigger. You were swallowing him inch by inch, slow and perfect, your eyes fluttering shut as he filled you.

“Holy shit—” you breathed out, head falling forward. “You’re—oh my god—fuck.”

You rocked. Just once. Deep. Slick and hot and full. And then again, hips circling, water rushing between your bodies, both of you soaked in heat and steam and each other.

“I should be asleep right now.” you said, half-laughing, even as your voice shook with the way he filled you. “But no. I’m here. In your lap. Getting fucked stupid. Because I’m so nice.”

“Shut up.”

“And you,” you said, leaning in, kissing his mouth hard, slow, wet. “are in love with me.”

His hips bucked up into you at that—a sharp, involuntary thrust. Your moan caught against his lips.

“Tell me.” you giggled, mouth open against his, voice dissolving into a moan as your pace picked up. “Tell me I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you. That my pussy’s made of—of fucking heaven, and you’re—”

He slapped your ass—hard. You yelped, cried out—the sound turning into a squeal of laughter. Because even when he barely spoke his body was yours. He was yours. And in that bath, soaked and steaming, choking on your own moans, laughter, and his cock—you never felt more loved.

You dropped your forehead to his shoulder for a second, laughing softly into his skin.

“Rude.” you giggled, voice thinner now as your hips started to find a rhythm, not too fast, but deep enough to make your thighs shake a little. “Is this why you won’t talk? You’re scared you’ll say something nice?”

He shifted again—not answering. Just driving you harder onto him with both hands, cock thick and firm and stretching your walls so good.

“I think,” you gasped, barely able to shut your lips, voice breaking into another shriek-laugh as his hand slapped lightly at your thigh under the water. “I think you’re secretly the sweetest man alive and you just don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Jesus.” Niragi muttered. “Shut the fuck up.”

You laughed, a soft whimper mixed in, arms tightening around his shoulders as you buried your face against his neck, rocking harder now. “I wooooon’t.”

He just pulled you tighter, harder, his mouth brushing your shoulder as you sunk down onto him again and again, the sound of your water sloshing echoing through the room as your body worked with his like you were made for this. Your head tipped back, moaning softly, hair stuck to your temples, your smile still breaking through all the pleasure on your face.

You looked like heaven.

Niragi looked like he was losing it.

You giggled again, high and breathless, as his palm smacked lightly against your thigh under the water again—not hard, not even really meant to hurt. Just a little bite. A little warning.

“Hey!” you gasped, grabbing at his wrist. “What the hell was that for?”

He smirked, eyes half-lidded, his other hand squeezing a firm handful of your ass under the water. “You were talking too much.”

You shrieked as you rode him, laughing hard now as you swatted at his chest, water splashing up between you both. “You love when I talk too much!”

He tilted his head, lips twitching—and god, that little twist of a smile was so rare it made your heart squeeze. “Do I?”

“You do.” you grinned, leaning in closer, nose brushing his. “You just like acting like you hate it. Like you’re too cold and serious for this much affection.”

You reached out and flicked his nipple under the water, just because you could, and he flinched back an inch with a scowl.

“Do that again and I’m drowning you in this tub.”

You burst into laughter, full and unrestrained, even as you felt each inch of him slide into you again and again. Your laugh was so happy, so real.

He just leaned forward—the tiniest shift—and kissed you. Hot. Quiet. You moaned into it, giggling again even as your tongue slid against his. You were too soft to be taken seriously, but your hips were still rolling slow and sweet onto his cock.

He groaned under his breath, and you felt it in your belly.

You pulled back from the kiss, breathless and shining, and pinched his cheek just to annoy him.

“Baby.” you said dramatically. “I’m gonna fall in love with you all over again if you keep being this sweet.”

“I literally just slapped you.”

“And it was so hot!” you laughed, pressing your face to his neck, biting gently at the skin there, sucking a small mark that made his fingers clench in your flesh.

“Jesus.” he muttered, but his hands slid over your back anyway, fingers spreading across the curve of your ass and squeezing until you gasped.

You retaliated immediately, slapping his chest—not hard, more like a playful thump with your palm. “You’re such a dick.”

“You’re riding it.” he said, deadpan.

You lost it at that. Giggled so hard you had to drop your forehead to his shoulder again, your entire body shaking as you choked on laughter. “You are so stupid, oh my god—”

He gripped your hips hard, shifting under you so the thick head of his cock dragged right up your walls just perfect.

You froze a little at that, breath catching. Then exhaled slow, eyes fluttering open, mouth parted as your hips rocked forward just once in answer.

“Oh.” you whispered, voice soft, awed. “Oh, fuck.”

You felt high on it. On the heat, the slick grind of his cock trapped between your folds, the sheer weight of him under you, arms holding your ass so tightly, like you’d vanish if he didn’t. Gripping your ass with both hands again as you lifted your hips up, pulling out of you, dragging you forward so your clit rubbed hard over the ridge of his cock, trapped beneath you and rock-fucking-hard. You cried out—not from pain, not even pleasure, but from the sheer shock of it. The friction. The heat. The way your whole body flinched and then melted into his, flushed and frantic and still giggling.

“I hate you.” you gasped, curling your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make his head tilt back.

“You wish.”

“No.” you said, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt, breath ragged against his mouth. “I do. I hate you. You’re such a fucking bully.”

“Uh-huh.” His hands were everywhere now—slippery and tight, gripping the backs of your thighs, the curve of your ass, squeezing and slapping and pulling you over him again and again. “That why you’re whining like that every time your pussy rubs up on me?”

You made a noise. Not a word. Just a desperate, shocked moan that fell right into a laugh again, a giggle that shook through your spine as you collapsed against his chest.

“Shut up.” you whined, voice muffled against his shoulder. “You’re so fucking rude.”

He kissed the side of your head.

Quick. Like a reflex. Like it didn’t mean anything. Which meant it probably meant everything.

You pulled back a little, mouth still open with another laugh about to fall out, but he caught it this time. His mouth met yours like he was tired of letting you do all the kissing. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t slow. It was teeth and tongue, his little tongue ball sliding against yours like ice in whiskey. His hand came up to your face and grabbed your jaw—firm, fingers pressing into your cheeks just enough to hold you in place. To make sure you felt every inch of his mouth moving against yours while you felt every inch of his dick slip back into you. And you moaned into it, high and helpless and happy as hell. Because even when he was like this—especially when he was like this—he was yours. Yours to touch, to tease, to climb on top of in the bath and laugh in the middle of sex and kiss until you were dizzy with it.

“You’re gonna make me pass out.” you whispered into the kiss, completely honest.

“Then stop bouncing like a fucking rabbit.”

“I can’t.” you whined dramatically, rolling your hips before continuing the up and down motion just to prove your point. “You feel too good. I’m not built for restraint. I’m built for—ah, fuck—”

He’d shifted his hips again, pushing up into you slow, trapped and pulsing and perfect between your swollen walls. Your whole body jerked with it, hands grabbing at his shoulders, breath cracking apart.

“Fuck, fuck—fuck—”

He felt you clenching around him. Heard it in your voice. The way your moans were getting breathier, shakier. He felt that you were getting close, so he asked, “Just from this?”

You grinned through it, eyes wild and shining. “Yeah, actually. Because you’re fucking perfect and I love you and—oh my god—keep—fuck, just like that—”

Your laugh cracked open mid-moan, breath catching on the way out as your hips stuttered. Water splashed up against the sides of the tub, crashing over, dripping from both of you onto the floor you’d definitely have to mop later—not that you cared. Not now. Not when his cock was buried so deep inside you, stretching you wide, heat pulsing between your thighs like you were made to take him.

You rocked your hips again—not graceful, not teasing anymore. Just needy. Desperate to keep him there. Desperate to feel everything, even if it was too much.

“I can feel you in my stomach.” you breathed out, eyes wide and glassy, voice still warm, high, full of awe. “Jesus Christ.”

Niragi was flushed now—chest pink, neck red, a single drop of water trailing down the side of his face. His hands clutched at your hips. He was still—but barely. His cock throbbed inside you with every shift of your body.

You ground your hips in a slow, deep circle, your mouth parting at the pressure, the perfect stretch of him, your voice falling to a breathless whimper.

He made a sound in his throat—low, strangled. Something he almost swallowed.

You leaned in, mouth brushing his ear, your hair wet and clinging to your back, your tits pressed to his chest, nipples grazing him every time you moved.

You bounced, rocked, deeper, little gasping moans slipping from your lips as the water sloshed high around your torsos, every sound obscene and wet and perfect.

You laughed through a broken little cry. “God, you always try to be so in control, huh?”

His hand smacked your ass again—a slap dulled by the water that made you cry out and laugh, the water rippling from the movement.

“Fuck—” you moaned, panting, clinging to his shoulders. “You really don’t like being talked back to, do you?”

“You like running your mouth when you’re this full.” he muttered—low, tight.

You smiled down at him, breathless, flushed, a little wild. “I like you.”

He looked at you—really looked. Eyes heavy, pretty, mouth parted, cock twitching inside you like he might fall apart any second.

And it was beautiful.

You leaned forward and kissed him, slow and deep, letting your moans melt into his mouth. Your hips never stopped moving—rolling now, tighter, faster, grinding down until the friction was just enough to make your legs shake.

Your body went tighter, your breath shorter. You were trembling.

“Shit—baby—fuck.” you gasped, voice breaking. “I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

He grabbed your hips, slammed you down—once, hard—and held you there, full, stretched, completely pinned. You screamed—a bright, raw sound, halfway between a sob and a laugh as the orgasm hit you like a wave.

Your body snapped, your back arching, hands scrambling across his shoulders, thighs squeezing around him as your whole body trembled with it. You came hard, mouth open in a silent cry, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from how full, how deep, how perfect it felt. You came on him like a sunbeam—laughing into it, gasping, shuddering, clinging as your whole body went tight and flushed and overwhelmed. Your head dropped to his shoulder, voice sweet and broken against his neck.

His hips snapped up, just once, hard and fast.

Your whole body jolted.

“Fucking hell—” Niragi growled, his sweet voice cracking for the first time that night, rough and vulnerable and real.

You barely had time to look up, eyes fluttering, lips parted—before he was pulling you down, fucking up into you in short, brutal thrusts, his hands bruising on your ass now, and every time he bottomed out, you cried out again.

He grabbed your chin with one wet hand, forcing your eyes to his.

“Smile for me.” he said—voice wrecked. “Come on, sunshine.”

You beamed.

And that was it.

He came hard—buried inside you, pulsing deep, his jaw tight, hips stuttering as he emptied everything into you with a low, broken moan that he barely let escape. His arms wrapped around your back, holding you tight, fucking you through it until you were both spent and shaking, tangled together in the fading steam, water lapping at your sides like waves crashing against wreckage.

You stayed there. Still in his lap. Still full.

Still smiling.

Always smiling.

You kissed his cheek, soft and slow, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth. “Told you I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

He didn’t answer.

But his arms didn’t let go.

And that was all the confirmation you’d ever need.

Steam clung to your skin like silk as you stepped out of the bathroom, warm towel wrapped around your chest, still damp and flushed from everything. The hallway lights caught the shimmer on your legs, your collarbones, the smile that just wouldn’t leave your face no matter how bruised your hips were or how jelly your knees felt.

Niragi followed close behind, towel slung low on his hips, wet hair dripping onto his shoulders, eyes already half-lidded in that post-release haze. He looked a little ruined—and not just because you’d ridden him into the fucking earth. He always looked like that around you, actually. Like having you around was too much and not enough all at once. Like you were messing with the steel trap of his brain just by existing.

His hand landed on your waist like a reflex. A small one, maybe. But it lingered. It always did with him. His knuckles dragged along your side, catching the edge of the towel, fingertips brushing the swell of your ass like it wasn’t even intentional.

You looked up at him, lashes wet, lips bitten pink. Smiling. Always fucking smiling.

“You’re such a boy.” you whispered, giggling under your breath. “Touchy and mean. You gonna let me get dressed or just keep groping me until I melt into the wall?”

He raised a brow. “You wouldn’t complain.”

You kicked him. Soft. Barefoot. Just a little jab to his calf. “Still mean. Even after I made your eyes roll back.”

“Hm.”

“What was that?” you asked, voice syrupy and warm, your arms winding around his neck.

His hand slipped to the back of your thigh. Squeezed. No words.

You grinned. Kissed his cheek. “Yeah. Thought so.”

You pulled away then, the towel barely hanging on as you made your way into the bedroom, humming something tuneless and girly under your breath. You were already moving on—body buzzing, giddy, your head somewhere between love-drunk and just dumb in love. You peeled your towel off and let it drop to the floor, rifling through the drawer he’d long ago cleared for you, even though he still pretended he hated having your “shit everywhere.”

(He didn’t. He liked it. You knew.)

You tugged on a pair of soft, pale panties and one of Niragi’s shirts—oversized, worn, smelled like detergent and him. It hit mid-thigh and practically swallowed your shoulders. You loved it. You always picked the one he’d just worn the day before. It made him insane.

“You’re not gonna wear your own clothes?” he asked from the doorway, now shirtless, towel discarded, sweatpants halfway up his hips.

You turned, all cheek. “You like me like this.”

He said nothing. But his eyes dragged over you—legs bare, hair dripping, soft and sweet and wearing his shirt—and you saw the way his jaw flexed. He came up behind you before you could say something smart, hand landing heavy on your hip again like he couldn’t help it. You were warm. Always warm.

You beamed.

He let you go when you turned to crawl onto the bed, laying back like a little goddess, all glow and legs and bare thighs, kicking your feet in the air like the picture of bliss.

Niragi climbed in after you, already sighing like your presence was going to kill him—like your brightness was both a blessing and a chronic fucking headache. He laid beside you, arm slung over his eyes, pretending to ignore you, but you caught the way his free hand rested just close enough to touch your thigh if he needed to.

You kicked him.

He didn’t move—didn’t open his eyes—but his fingers brushed your thigh once. Soft. Intentional.

You leaned over, kissed his cheek again, voice sweet. “Love you, too.”

Yeah, he was horrible. Closed-off, cold, didn’t like people, didn’t like noise, didn’t like talking unless he absolutely had to—but you were an exception. You were light. You were sugar and bare feet and the smell of soap and the hum of the city outside and your laugh in his ears when everything else felt like a fucking war.

And him? He was just the asshole lucky enough to get all of you.

Plus the sheets were a little wrinkled, the air smelled like his body wash and the faint trace of sex still floating in the steam left over from earlier.

Your feet was bare, hair still wet and curling where it wanted to, his shirt falling off one shoulder and bouncing around the bed like the mattress was your playground. Your legs were tangled in the sheets, your phone was abandoned somewhere near the pillows, and you were kicking at him again—half-hearted, bratty, toeing his thigh until he huffed and finally caught your ankle with a death grip.

“Stop.”

You just grinned. Bit your lip. Tilted your head with that knowing, irritating, irresistible look that made him want to kiss you and strangle you at the same time. “I’m not doing anything.”

He tugged your ankle, dragging you toward him, until you let out a little squeal—high and breathless—falling onto your back with your leg still in his grip, head thrown back against the pillow, laughing.

“You’re holding my leg.” you pointed out, smile splitting your face. “You’re so weird about touching me. Always saying you don’t care, but then your hands are on me.”

He didn’t look up from your leg. But his grip didn’t loosen either. “You’re soft.”

“And you’re emotionally constipated.”

His eyes did flick to you then.

You blinked, sweet as ever. “What? I’m in psych. I can diagnose you with that.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a real disorder.”

“Not officially.” you said with a little shrug, rolling onto your side and propping yourself up on your elbow, the leg he was holding bent slightly at the knee. “But if it was, you’d have it. Classic symptoms, blunt affect, low empathy presentation, defensive sarcasm, obsessive work habits, clearly compensatory. And that’s just what I picked up today.”

He squinted at you.

You smiled wider. “Also you’re mean.”

He smirked at that—barely. “You’re meaner.”

“No.” you said, crawling toward him now, dragging your sheet with you. “I’m good. I’m an angel. Ask literally anyone.”

“No.” he muttered as you finally reached him, straddling his thigh without asking and tossing your arm across his chest like you owned it. You leaned in, rested your chin on his chest, right over his heart.

“You don’t let people in. Because every time you did, they either left, or hurt you. You got used to silence. You got used to fighting your way through everything alone, even if it meant getting kicked around a little. And now that you have someone—someone who loves you soft and silly and stupidly—you don’t know what to do with it.”

His jaw ticked.

You kissed it.

“And that’s okay.” you whispered. “I don’t mind figuring it out with you. I’ve got time.”

He finally looked at you—eyes heavy, jaw tight, guarded in that way that made you ache for the boy he used to be. The one who got picked last. The one who had to get sharp and cold just to survive.

“You’re fucking strange.” he said eventually. Voice low.

You grinned, warm and gentle and annoying. “So are you.”

His hand slid back up your leg, palm dragging over your thigh. You didn’t stop smiling.

You pressed your cheek to his chest, right over where his heart beat a little too fast, and let the silence stretch out—soft and easy now.

You traced circles on his chest.

He rested his hand on the back of your thigh.

You didn’t need to say more.

You already knew.

So yeah, this was your relationship. It didn’t make sense, not on paper. People didn’t really get it when they saw you two together. Not really. You were all softness and warmth, eyes lit up with curiosity about the world, voice like a song even when you rambled about nonsense, which was often. You were the kind of person strangers smiled at on the street. The kind of girl who remembered birthdays, brought snacks to study sessions, stopped to compliment people’s nails and outfits even if you didn’t know them. Kind. Gentle. Smiley. Lovely.

Niragi was horrible. The guy who barely looked up when someone walked in a room, who got irritated just by existing around other people for too long. He was the walking embodiment of don’t talk to me, and half the time he looked like he was one eye twitch away from throwing someone out a window. Hell, even his compliments sounded like complaints.

But then there was you.

And something about you just fit.

It shouldn’t have worked—but it did. Only because of you, honestly. You were the bridge. The reason he learned how to breathe when the world made him feel like he was drowning. It was you who opened the door to his apartment and made it feel like home. You who pulled him out of his own head when the self-loathing got too loud. You gave softness without asking him to be soft, gave love without conditions, gave affection without asking for it back in equal measure—because you knew he didn’t know how to love like that yet. But he was trying. God, he was trying.

And it showed in the quiet ways.

The way he kept your favorite snacks stocked in the kitchen, even though he claimed he didn’t eat junk. The way he always pulled your phone charger closer to your side of the bed before you even realized your battery was low—though that was because his insecure side made him look at your phone at all times—The way his hand never didn’t touch you, even in silence, even when you were arguing, even when he didn’t say a word for hours. There was always a hand on your thigh. An ankle hooked around yours under the sheets. A palm resting on your lower back as he passed behind you in the kitchen.

That was his love. Not big words. Not loud declarations.

Just presence. Just touch.

And you accepted that. You loved him like it wasn’t hard—even though it was. Even though Niragi was frustrating and complicated and built from the ruins of too many years spent hurting in silence. You loved him even when he didn’t love himself. Maybe especially then.

Because you saw it. You saw him.

The kid underneath the scowl. The man who kept the armor on because no one ever made him feel safe enough to take it off.

Until you.

He still didn’t say much. But you didn’t need him to. You’d lie in bed with your head on his chest, rambling about school, or the dream you had, or a TikTok someone sent you, and he’d just listen—quiet and grumpy and pretending not to care—but you’d feel his thumb stroking lazy lines on your shoulder, or his nose nuzzle against your damp hair, and that was all you needed.

You could love for the both of you.

At least, until he learned how.

But sometimes, he surprised you. Like the time he texted you “wear that thing from last week,” out of nowhere, which made you laugh in the middle of your seminar. Or when he leaned into you one night, unprompted, face buried in your neck, and whispered, “Don’t leave.”

He never said shit like that. Never admitted to needing anything. But that night? He said it like it hurt.

You didn’t tease him. You just kissed the side of his head and said, “Not going anywhere,” like it was the easiest promise you’d ever made. Because it was. You weren’t going anywhere. Not when you’d spent all this time peeling him back, cracking open the shell he thought was a fortress and finding the soft, scared, loyal soul underneath. Not when every day with him felt like a victory—a tiny, hard-earned, precious victory.

He was still fucked up. Still stubborn and angry and quiet.

But with you? He was good.

And no one could touch what you two had. No one could understand it. That didn’t matter.

It was strange. Messy. Half broken. And perfect. In your own weird, private, beautiful way.

You ran the tip of your hands along his chest softly, his hand sliding up your thigh automatically, and you let out that soft little hum of contentment he always pretended not to love.

And for a guy who never smiled in photos, never laughed at parties, never liked much of anything—Niragi swore, sometimes, he could feel himself smiling, just under the skin.

Just because you were there.

It was early.

Too early for how warm the bed was. You were already dressed—tucked and sweet and ready to take on the day. Your hair was done, lip gloss perfectly glossy, tote bag full of color-coded notebooks and your headphones tucked into the pocket with a little granola bar you didn’t even really want. You were standing at the foot of the bed, adjusting the strap of your bag, and Niragi was half-curled under the blankets, shirtless, hair messy from sleep—that unfair kind of messy that made him look beautiful. He had one hand behind his head, but the other? Gripping your wrist. Firm. Relentless.

“You’re gonna make me late.” you warned gently, not pulling too hard. “C’mon. I have class.”

Niragi didn’t even open his eyes all the way. Just squinted at you. “Skip.”

You scoffed. “I’m not skipping abnormal psych to lay in bed with you all day, you caveman.”

“Your loss.”

You tried to pull away again. His grip tightened.

“Baby.” you whined, a little. You didn’t mean to, but it came out soft and full of air, because you were always weak in the morning. Especially when he touched you like that.

He just dragged your wrist down until you stumbled a little closer to the edge of the bed, until your knees hit the mattress.

You laughed under your breath, leaning on the bed with your free hand to balance yourself. “I’m better than everyone, baby. Can’t let them get ahead now.”

His hand slid from your wrist to your thigh. He squeezed. “Come prove it.”

“You want me to be late and be your whore this early?”

“Exactly.” He reached with his other hand, tugged your bag right off your shoulder and tossed it to the floor. “Stay.”

You bent forward, nose scrunching as you kissed his cheek. “You’re literally the worst.”

He looked smug, all sleepy and stretched out under the blanket, eyes half-open but still devouring you like breakfast, like he’d pull you under the covers and make you forget your own name if you stood there a second longer.

You pulled away, trying to grab your bag. He grabbed your wrist again.

“Baby.” you said, exasperated.

“What.”

“I need to go.”

“No you don’t.”

You made a soft sound, part frustration, part laugh. “You’re just horny and lazy.”

“Mm.” he said, tilting his head. “And you’re better than whatever stupid thing you’re about to learn about.”

“I’m a psych major.”

“Exactly.”

You glared.

He didn’t blink. His thumb stroked your inner wrist.

You leaned down again, lips brushing against his just barely. A sweet kiss. “You’re not keeping me hostage in your bed, sorry.”

“You’re not even sorry.”

You giggled, finally pulling free again, though you had to reach way too far across the floor to grab your bag.

Niragi watched you the whole time. Watched you straighten up, adjust your skirt. Watched the way your necklace shimmered against your throat. Watched your glossed lips pout slightly as you checked your phone. You looked like the epitome of light. Sweet and bright and put together. So girly it was unfair. It was a fucking miracle you ever gave him the time of day.

You turned, standing near the doorway of the room now. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Niragi didn’t say anything. Just leaned back into the pillows, stretched, lifted a hand lazily—and flipped you off.

You blew him a kiss.

That was your relationship.

You, glowing in the sunlight, cheeks pink and bag bouncing on your shoulder, laughing on your way out the door.

And him, grumpy and hard to love, trying to drag you back to bed because he didn’t know any other way to say I miss you already.

And god, did it work.

Because the second the front door clicked behind you and the cold of the hallway touched your skin, you just… stopped. Froze there, blinking at the dead silence beyond the apartment walls. And then, like the dumb, in-love little creature you were, you exhaled something close to a groan, dropped your head back against the door, and turned right the fuck around.

You shoved the door open, tossed your coat somewhere near the wall, your bag thudded against the floor, and your shoes didn’t even make it past the threshold before you were squealing—actually squealing—on your way back down the hall.

“I hate you!” you shouted, all breathless glee, skidding into the bedroom. “I hate you so much, oh my god!”

Niragi’s head lifted from the pillow just enough to see you launch yourself across the room. His lips quirked—just barely—as you jumped back into bed with enough force to bounce the mattress.

“Changed your mind?” he asked, deadpan.

You were already crawling under the covers, the hem of your skirt bunched up around your thighs. “You ruined me! This is your fault!”

“I didn’t do shit.”

“You ruined me!” you repeated, dramatic as fuck, wrapping your arms around his bare chest and smooshing your face into his neck. “I was ready! I was cute! I was gonna be productive!”

He snorted. Full-on this time. Tried to stifle it behind his hand, but you heard it.

“Don’t laugh.” you mumbled against his skin, voice muffled. “You’re toxic. You’re the reason I can’t be normal.”

“Good.” Niragi muttered, rolling to press you deeper into the bed. “Normal girls don’t moan the way you do.”

You let out a scandalized little gasp and kicked him with your knee. He caught your thigh instantly, gripped it and pushed between your legs again like his body was wired to know exactly how to make you stop fighting.

“Baby!”

“What?” he murmured. “You came back. Don’t act like I’m the problem.”

“I am the problem.” you said, like a confession. “I’m obsessed with you. Like sick. Mentally unwell. I literally smelled you on my coat just now and had to come back.“

His hand slid up your back under your shirt. Not urgent. Not impatient. Just there—skin to skin, warm and steady.

“I’m not sorry.” he whispered.

“I know. I hate you.”

“You already said that.”

And he was right—you had. Said it a million times. Said it even now, curled against his bare chest, his hardened cock pressing firm against your thigh through his pants, his hand up your shirt, his mouth brushing your collarbone. You said it all the time, because you knew he didn’t take it to heart.

But the truth was obvious.

You weren’t thinking about your textbooks. You weren’t thinking about your schedule or your attendance record or your meticulously highlighted calendar back at your place.

You were thinking about Niragi.

His piercings. His face. His style. How tall he was. The low hum in his throat as he kissed your shoulder and palmed your ass like he had nothing else to do today but love you the only way he knew how—with his hands, with his body, with his unbearable, addicting, asshole self.

You wiggled closer to him, if that was even possible.

There will food be in the kitchen if you get to that. Warm sheets here. Your charger on the nightstand. Your toothbrush in the bathroom. Your bra on the floor. His shirt on your back.

And Niragi.

That was the whole list.

What else could you possibly need?

You shifted your face on him. “Baby…”

“Hm?”

“Your dick’s poking me.”

“Yeah.” Niragi said, not even pretending to be sorry. “Been poking you.”

You lifted your head. “You’re so annoying! I came back here to cuddle and you’re—baby.”

He blinked, completely unaffected. “Not my fault.”

You dropped your head with a groan, kicking your legs under the covers like a tantrum but still staying wrapped around him like a baby koala.

“It’s like sleeping next to a loaded gun.” you whined, rubbing your face against his collarbone. “I can’t even be sweet to you without getting dicked up.”

“That’s not a complaint.”

“It is a complaint!” you insisted, voice muffled now. “I’m trying to be a good girlfriend. I came back to snuggle you and now I’m thinking about—” You paused. Pouted. “About stuff.”

“That’s all you.” Niragi said simply. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Because you don’t have to. Your dick’s doing all the talking.”

“Good. That one’s smarter than me anyway.”

You snorted so hard you actually slapped his chest, light and playful, which only made him pull you closer, one hand sliding lower to squeeze a handful of your ass as if to prove the point.

“I hate how cocky you are.”

“You don’t. You love it.”

“No, I love you. The cockiness is just, like…” You paused again, scrunching your nose. “…part of the starter pack.”

Niragi’s fingers squeezed your ass again. “That mean you’re gonna take care of it?”

You whined. Slapped him again, this time on the arm. “You’re gross.”

“You’re the one rubbing your thighs together like a slut.”

“Baby!”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Because it wasn’t his fault, really—it was your own. Your fault for being such a sucker for him in the morning. Your fault for wearing this skirt. Your fault for crawling into his arms like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. And now here you were, legs tangled up in his, skin warm, brain stupid, mouth dry.

Still smiling.

Still blushing.

Still so damn sweet, even when he was driving you crazy.

Niragi leaned in suddenly, mouth at your ear, voice low and beautiful. “We don’t have to do anything. I just wanna hold you.”

You melted, instantly, which only made you more annoyed. “Don’t say it like that…”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re sweet now.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, kissed your cheek, and rolled you over so you were flat on your back, tucked beneath him. Not heavy. Not crushing.

“You are sweet, though.” you whispered, breathless again. “Even when you pretend not to be.”

He kissed your shoulder.

Then your collarbone.

Then the underside of your jaw.

“I’m not sweet.” he muttered into your skin, so in the mood. “Just obsessed with you.”

“Oh.” You blinked. Heart thudding. “Well… okay then.”

That was all you could say.

Because yeah. His dick was still poking you.

But his mouth was soft, and his hands were steady, and your world was warm and stupid and safe, right here.

So yeah—you’d come back for that.

You’d always come back for that.

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

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