#how it feels to disappear: Descent

[tokkiwrites]

ㅤ⠀ ˚̣̣ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣⠀⠀⠀⠀토키⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀( ✿ . )⠀⠀⠀⠀† ꯭ ⎯⎯

꒰ ꪆ୧ ꒱ SUℳM𝛢RY ⌢ ꒰੭. You always thought things would change after high school. College was supposed to be your escape. But things don't change. You drop out and move back into your small home town, where you are still invisible, still too soft, still too dumb. Then people start dying. People who hurt you. People who laughed at you. People who touched you when they shouldn’t have. It feels like fate. Like someone’s watching out for you. And when you finally meet him it doesn’t feel like fear. It feels like being chosen.

˖˙ ᰋ ── 𝖙ags ˚ DARK JOEL MILLER FIC, killer! joel miller x fem! reader, afab reader, no outbreak au, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, violence, mention of bullying, slow descent into obsession, delusional reader, outcast reader, age gap (mentioned once), morally grey characters, made up characters and places, semi public sex, rough p in v (unprotected), creampie, knife play, marking/branding, cum eating, degradation, dumbification of reader, choking, slight size kink, slight breeding kink.

𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒﹙ʚɞ˚﹚ 𝖓ote: hey...how yall doin...? im sooo sorry i disappeared on you guys :( uni has been kicking my ass but i promise i will be more active from now on!!! had a chance to write for some of the requests so those will be coming soon! here's a small spring gift for you all :p i hope you enjoy it! 🎀🌟🐇

You thought it would feel different, leaving.

You thought that when high school ended, you’d find something different waiting for you. You imagined a new beginning, a fresh start, maybe something exciting—something where you wouldn’t fade into the background. But the reality was far from that.

You were always too soft. Too nice. You never knew how to be anything else, even when everyone around you told you to toughen up, to stop being so stupid.

In high school, they made sure you knew how weak you were. How easy it was to push you aside. You were a target for the mean girls, the ones with sharp smiles and even sharper tongues. They loved to mock you, but you didn’t have the heart to fight back. Instead, you retreated into yourself, hoping that one day, they’d stop.

You thought maybe things would change when you went off to college. It wasn’t like you had high expectations—it was just supposed to be a chance for something different. You imagined that the people there wouldn’t see you the same way. But it wasn’t different. It was the same. It felt like rot.

College was just high school in a bigger building. Louder rooms. Longer halls. The same laughter behind your back.

Your professors barely knew your name. The other students walked past you like you were invisible. And no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you smiled or how polite you were, it was always the same. You thought that maybe it was just a phase. That things would get better after a few months. But after three years, it just felt like you were fading. You didn’t belong anywhere. You didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. You didn’t feel like you were living.

That’s when you decided to come home.

Your parents didn’t question you at first. They asked once, maybe twice, but after a few months, the questions stopped. They stopped expecting anything from you. And so did you.

Now you live in a small apartment above an old antique store in Northridge, a place where no one expects anything from you. It’s quiet except of the floors that creak beneath your feet, and the window by your bed is stuck halfway open, even when you beg it not to. You don’t even bother trying to fix it anymore. It’s just easier this way.

You work at Sloan’s Bakery, a quiet little shop that smells like cinnamon and fresh bread. It’s nothing glamorous, but it’s safe. You like the routine. You like the silence. Now, you don’t mind being unnoticed.

Today isn’t supposed to be different. You’re just doing your usual thing, putting the price tags on the pastries like you always do. The oven hums in the back, the cash register dings every so often as customers come and go. You feel like you’re in a bubble, watching the world outside through the small window at the counter. Nothing remarkable. Everything in its place.

And then, the bell above the door rings too loudly. You glance up, expecting some sleepy regular—maybe Mr. Hanley, or that tired-looking woman who orders oat milk but forgets every time that you don’t carry it.

But you were never the luckiest person.

It’s Macy King. Her heels click too sharply against the floor, and for a second, it feels like you're back in high-school. You haven’t seen her since then. You don’t know why, but the second you see her, you freeze. You’ve never forgotten her face.

“Oh my god,” she says, too loud, too fake. ���It’s you.” She laughs. That same high-pitched laugh you remember from the cafeteria. It scrapes something raw inside you. You don’t know what to say. You feel like you’ve been caught in something. “I haven’t seen you in, like… forever.” She giggles like it’s funny, but you know it’s not. She’s looking at you with that same old smugness, that always made you feel small. It funny really, she's at the same level since high-school yet she still believes everyone is beneath her.

“Didn’t you go to college or something? I thought you’d be, like, doing something by now.” You can’t find your voice. You nod slowly, trying to force the words out, but your mouth feels dry. “IㅡYeah… for a while.”

She doesn’t ask why you’re back. She doesn’t care.

“So this is what you’re doing now?” Her eyes sweep across the bakery. She’s sizing you up, like she’s inspecting the life you’ve built. “Wow, that’s… cute. Really, though, I didn’t expect you to end up here.” She doesn’t say it mean. But that’s the trick with Macy. She never said it mean. Not directly. Just enough to make you feel like dirt on the floor.

You don’t answer. You can’t. You want to scream, but it’s like your throat’s closed up, and the words aren’t coming. She steps closer, running her fingers over the glass of the pastry case like she owns the place.

“Oh my god, do you still make those little cookies?” she asks, peering into the display case. “The ones with the filling in the middle? What are they called? The jelly blobs?”

“Thumbprints,” you say softly.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll try one.” You give it to her, unsure of what to expect. She bites into it immediately, but her face twists in distaste.

“Ew,” she spits out, loud enough for the whole bakery to hear. “This is disgusting. Too sweet.”

You don’t move. You just watch as she drops the half-eaten cookie on the floor, the soft thud of it making your stomach turn. “Oh, wait. Let me try that one,” she says, pointing at a different pastry. You give it to her. She bites into it and immediately frowns, dropping it to the ground too.

“Ugh, all of these are gross,” she says, shaking her head like you’re the one at fault. She turns her back on you like she’s bored, her eyes scanning the other pastries, dismissing them with a flick of her wrist. “Do you ever get anything right?” she adds, but it’s not a question. It’s just another jab.

You bend down to clean up the mess she’s made, your hands shaking as you gather the pieces of pastry from the floor. The crumbs stick to your skin, like a reminder of how small and invisible you are.

She doesn’t say goodbye when she leaves. She just walks out, her footsteps echoing in the silence she leaves behind.

It’s hours later and it's finally time for you to close up. You don’t know why you turn the radio on, but you do. It’s the static hum of the local station, the voice on the other end dull and distant.

“…Body discovered behind the Valero gas station early this morning. Authorities have confirmed it’s a local man in his twenties…” Your heart skips a beat and you sit up straight, the words striking you harder than they should.

“…Multiple stab wounds to the chest. Police are investigating but no suspects have been identified. More details to come as the investigation unfolds.” You don’t know why it strikes you so hard, but you can’t shake it. The voice continues, but you’re already lost in your own thoughts.

Its not long until the whole town starts talking. Brandon Haynes. You remember him. He was just like everyone else. He touched you. Too much, too harsh. More than enough to make you feel small. To make you feel like nothing.

You don’t know why it’s so strange. Why it feels like you’re holding your breath. It doesn’t matter.

You don’t feel anything for him. But you feel something for the moment. For the chance that maybe something’s shifting. Something is moving. And in that quiet, empty way, you realize that maybe you’re not the only one who’s been pushed aside.

A few days later and it is close up time again. As always the radio voice drones on as you wipe the counters. “Macy King found dead this morningㅡ”

You don’t need to hear more. You already know.

Macy is dead too. How is this even possible? Was it all a dream, or was it the karma they couldn't escape from? You don’t feel sorry for her. You don’t feel sorry for Brandon either. But something’s stirring deep inside you. Something darker. Something that’s been waiting for a long time. It feels liberating. Maybe it makes you broken. But you don’t care.

Because some quiet part of you smiles.

You never said it out loud, but you hated them. For how they made you feel. For how they touched you, laughed at you, stepped on you. And now they’re gone. You tell yourself it’s not coincidence. How could it be? What if someone saw you? What if someone knows?

What if someone did it… for you?

The thought makes your breath catch. Makes your cheeks flush. It’s stupid. Delusional. But it feels like the first real thing you’ve had in months. Maybe longer.

Someone out there, somewhere in this cruel, gray little town, might’ve done what you’ve never had the courage to. And that makes you feel seen. Wanted. It doesn’t scare you. It makes your chest flutter.

So you hope, quietly, selfishly, shamefully, that whoever it is, does it again. For you.

Days later, the radio talks about Macy's death like it’s a warning. Like the whole town should be afraid. They now know the crimes were done by the same person. A man. But you’re not afraid. You’re captivated.

You walk home that day in a daze, the cold air biting at your cheeks, and for the first time in so long, you feel like someone is walking with you. Not beside you, but behind you. Somewhere. Watching. At least thats how it seems, or that's what you hope for.

And that thought that maybe someone sees you, maybe someone is thinking of you, it makes you ache. It makes your chest feel full. Like you matter. Like you’re real again.

So the next morning, you get up early. You shower longer than usual. You put on perfume, the one you wore back in college when you thought someone might notice you. You do your hair, just a little lipstick, and put on that soft sweater that hugs you just right. You don’t know why you’re doing it.

Except you do.

Because maybe he is out there. Maybe he's watching. Maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of him one day— maybe at work, across the street, reflected in the bakery window. Maybe he’ll come in and ask for a loaf of rye bread. And you’ll know. It’s stupid. But you don’t stop.

You start waking up earlier. Dressing softer. Smiling, just in case. The town is still cold and gray, but inside you, something is blooming.

A few weeks pass. You’ve stopped keeping track of the days. Everything just folds together now—sugar, flour, radio static, names whispered on the news.

The third victim throws you for a loop. Julian Moore.

He wasn’t like Macy or Brandon. He never laughed in your face, never whispered about your thighs or stole things from your locker. He wasn’t cruel.

But he stood by. That's your reasoning.

He was there, every time you were shoved into a locker or had your tray flipped in the cafeteria. He saw you crying in the girls’ bathroom after gym, after someone stole your clothes. He saw everything. And he never said a word. So when they find Julian’s body slumped behind the old church parking lot, throat cut clean through, something inside you hums. Not with guilt. Not even with relief.

But with a kind of satisfaction.

'You see me', you think. 'You’re doing this for me'. You’re too far gone now. You know it. But it’s like slipping into warm water. Soft and quiet and too easy to sink.

You don’t pray to God anymore. You pray to him.

Whoever he is.

Some nights, you whisper your thoughts aloud. Just in case he can hear you. You tell him about the people you hated, the ones that ruined you, the ones that still smile like they got away with it. You tell him about your dreams. About how sometimes you think you feel him just outside your apartment, under your window, in the creak of the floorboards that shouldn’t creak. You leave your curtain open a crack at night.

Just in case.

More days pass. The sky is bruised purple and gold, streetlights humming like quiet thoughts, the pavement still sticky with sun. You smell like sugar, yeast and a little vanilla, your apron folded neatly in your bag, your perfume still clinging to your collarbones. And you feel good.

It’s not something you admit often. But tonight, the wind is soft. Your chest feels light. And there’s that quiet, persistent buzz in your stomach that maybe—just maybe, he’s proud of you.

You walk slower than usual. You want to be seen. You smile at the window reflections. At your shoes. At nothing.

And then it shifts. At first it’s subtle. There's a sound that doesn’t belong. A presence you can’t place. But it thickens around you slowly, like fog, until you know you’re not alone. There’s someone behind you.

It's ot a feeling anymore. Not a maybe.

Someone is there. Slowly, your steps falter. You stop, you turn. And he’s there.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Older. He’s standing under the glow of a flickering lamppost like it’s a spotlight and he is the misunderstood actor, with shadows cutting across his face. His hair is dark and slightly curled, his jawline sharp, mouth neutral. He doesn’t move.

But he’s looking at you. Your heart slams up into your ribs. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak. Just watches. You don’t know him. Or maybe you do. Maybe you’ve seen him before, in your dreams, in your prayers, behind your eyes when you’re alone in bed with nothing but wanting. Maybe he’s always been there.

The street is silent. The street lights glow faint behind you. Somewhere far off, a dog barks. And you— God, you don’t run.

You take a step forward. And he doesn’t move. Not until his hand shifts just a little and you see something glint. A blade. Maybe. Or maybe your mind wants it to be. You gasp, but it’s soft, almost reverent. You don’t feel fear. You feel certain.

You open your mouth, voice trembling but real. “I am not afraid o-of you…” He laughs. It’s a quiet sound. Deep and low and almost surprised. “Oh?”

But you mean it. You’re not afraid. You’ve wanted this—him, whatever this is, for so long, you’re not sure there’s any room left inside you for fear.

For months you’ve been dreaming of this. Not of murder or blood, but of him. Of being seen. Of being chosen.

And now he’s here. You don’t blink. Don’t breathe. “Stupid girl…” he mutters. His fingers brush the knife at his belt. And you? You smile.

He steps closer. You don’t move. Can’t. Your mouth is dry, breath catching somewhere between your chest and your throat, your heart trying to crawl up your neck. He’s beautiful. Not in any way you’ve ever known. He’s rough, a scar curling just near his temple, his face carved from something too human and too wild at once. His eyes are dark, unreadable. His mouth is stern, unmoved. You feel heat flush up your neck and to your cold cheeks. He’s right in front of you.

Close enough to see the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the way his eyes linger on your face for just a second longer than they should. “I—I know what you did,” you whisper, voice trembling, breathless.

He raises an eyebrow. You swallow hard. “Those people… Brandon. Macy. Julian. They hurt me. Back then. You—you knew, didn’t you? You did it for m-me…”

He doesn’t say anything. Just watches.

And that silence, it pulls more out of you. “I mean, it makes sense. Doesn’t it?” You laugh, soft and shaky, hands trembling at your sides. “No one ever remembered me. No one ever noticed me. But you—you saw me. You must’ve. That’s why you…” You trail off. You can’t bring yourself to say killed. Not out loud.

His expression shifts. A little. One corner of his mouth twitches. And then he laughs. It’s sudden and deep and rough, like it bursts straight from his chest.

You flinch, but not away. Never away.

“You’re a real sweet thing, aren’t you?” he drawls low, the faintest southern rasp brushing the words. You don’t know what to say. You just stare up at him, cheeks burning, stomach a mess of tangled knots. Then he leans closer. Close enough that you can smell leather and smoke and something more darker. Close enough that his voice grazes your ear when he speaks again. “I might just keep you longer.”

The words burn. You feel them everywhere. Your legs tremble. You’re too warm. Too soft. You feel like you could fall straight into him and vanish.

And still, he doesn’t touch you. He just watches the way you unravel—eyes wide, lips parted, breath shallow, as if it’s his favorite pastime. As if he likes watching you break.

The space between you is so tight it feels like you have been touched. Brushed. You wonder what his hand would feel like on your throat. You shouldn't want that. “I…” you whisper, barely audible. “Can I know y-our name?" He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even blink but you see his jaw tighten. Just a little. Like maybe something in him twitches when he looks at you too long.

“Why me?” you ask, stupidly, helplessly, hopelessly. His eyes flick down to your mouth, then back up. And he smiles. Barely. “You talk too much,” he mutters. He leans in again “I liked you better when you were just starin’.” You feel heat bloom low in your stomach.

“You ever wonder what it’d feel like,” he murmurs, his voice a low drag in your ear, “if I just took you right here?” Your breath stops.

Right here. This alley. The air thick and sticky with heat, the only light coming from the weak glow of the streetlamp at the corner, flickering like it’s about to die too. He pulls back just enough to look at you.

“No one can see you out here. No one can hear you.” His hand trails down slowly, fingers dragging across your arm, your waist, until it rests low on your hip.

“What if I held you up against this wall,” he continues, voice crueler, “fucked you until you beg for me to stop, and then put a knife in your gut?” You should run. You should scream. But your breath comes out shuddered, and your eyes go wide, not in fear, but something closer to desire.

You want it. You want him.

He sees it. He feels it. Your body leaning closer, your thighs shifting, the way your lips part and tremble. And he stills. For a second. A long one.

“…Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “You like that?” You nod. He stares at you. Quiet. Like he’s trying to figure out whether you’re the dumbest girl he’s ever met or the most dangerous. Maybe both.

He shoves you back against the alley wall and kisses you like a punishment, like he hates that he wants you, like he wants to see how deep the rabbit hole goes.

You moan. Loud. Needy. And that’s all it takes. His hands are everywhere—on your hips, your ass, your throat. One knee forces your legs apart and he grinds against you through your clothes, a low, guttural sound in his throat when he feels how soaked you are already. “You’re fuckin’ filthy,” he growls. “Gettin’ wet from me talkin’ about killin’ you. You sick little thing.”

You nod again, whispering a barely-there, “please—” And then it happens. Just like you have dreaming of. His mouth was on your neck, his breath in your ear, his body pressing you into the wall like he’s carving your shape into it. He quickly takes off his pants, leaving you no time to react to the sheer size of him. He forces the head inside of you, leaving you mewling under his touch. “Look at you, lettin’ a killer fuck you in a goddamn alley like a whore.” In no time he was in your guts, each stroke sending you further into oblivion. Your fingernails dig into his skin and he growls, rough hands wrapping around your throat as he whispered dirty nothings into your hair. “This little cunt’s never been touched, has it? Feels too fuckin’ tight to beㅡ shit!" He uses you like he owns you, like you’re a soft and stupid doll made just for him. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—feels so good…”

“I could kill you right now, and you’d still thank me for it, wouldn’t you?” he gloats, each snap of his hips hitting deeper into your cunt. Your tear stained cheeks press agains his hard chest, sobs muffled and eyes blurry from crying. Your head is spinning, brain melting into nothing but thoughts of him. “You’re gonna remember this every time you sit down, darlin’. Gonnaㅡ fuck, feel me for days.”

You hiccup, head bobbing up and down, as he hastily chases his high. He groans low into your neck, voice cracking like gravel, rough fingers digging into your hips as he jerks once, twice, then stills as he spills his cum inside of your ruined insides.

“Fuck… that’s it, girl. Take it. Take all of it, you stupid thing.” He stays inside, breathing heavy against your cheek, his hand slipping down to hold your belly like he’s wanting to feel how deep in he still is. “Maybe it’ll stick. God knows you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod, dazed, breathless. You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to. But you're full. Of him. Of this moment. Of something filthy and real and unforgettable. It’s dripping out of you already and you shudder as it drops onto your newly bought underwear.

Your thighs still trembling, your skin still burning where he touched you. “I hope it does…” you whisper, blinking up at him, lips swollen, brain a haze of sugar and sin. “I really hope it sticks…” And he just laughs, sharp and cruel. He is entertained. “You're so fuckin’ pathetic.” But he doesn’t pull out. Not yet. The words sting. But not in the way they should. Not in the way a normal girl would cry over.

There's that filthy slickness between your thighs, and his rough hand moves down, slow, before dragging fingers through the mess he's left inside of you. You gasp.

He brings his fingers back up, slick and warm, and pushes them against your lips. "Open," he commads. And you do. You part your lips like it’s holy, like it’s something good, something earned. You wrap your mouth around his fingers and taste salt, heat and him. He watches you, slow and dark, chest rising. “ God dammit...”

Your eyes flutter shut as you suck, as if this will anchor him to you. As if this will mean something. And when he finally pulls his fingers away, wiping them on your cheek with something like contempt, you're still there, ruined, breathless, glowing in it.

He pulls away from you slowly, lazily, like he’s in no rush to care. His belt’s already half-fastened, knuckles grazed from the rough press of brick and skin. You’re still trembling, ruined and bare and aching in places you never knew could ache.

He pulls out like it means nothing. Like you mean nothing. The air cools around you instantly, and so does he. Zipping his jeans, flexing his jaw, his gaze flickers down at you once more, lazy and cold.

Then he turns. One step. Another.

It shouldn’t hurt this bad. But it does. Your voice cracks before you even know what you’re saying. “Please don’t leave—please—I’ll be good, I swear!" You’re shaking. Still sore. Still wet. Still his, in some awful, ruined way.

“Don’t go fallin’ in love, dumb girl. I ain’t your savior. I’m the reason people like you go missin’.” His eyes are sharp, unreadable.You're on your knees, legs trembling, underwear pushed to the side and forgotten, dress wrinkled and twisted halfway around your thighs. Your elbows ache from where you caught yourself against the brick, and your lips are raw from biting down too hard. There’s a stream of his come between your legs and bruises blooming along your skin. The alley smells like him. You do too.

Your heartbeat is still stuttering, off-kilter, your body stuck somewhere between shame and a high you never want to come down from. You blink up at him through damp lashes. “That’s all you wanted, huh? Someone to fuck the stupid outta you. Thought you’d get a happily ever after?”

It feels like you're begging without even saying a word. He should leave. He said he would. But he's still here, isn’t he? He just stares. Something in his brain ticks. And then, slowly, he pulls the knife from his belt. The steel hits the streetlight close to him and you freeze. He doesn’t say a word as he shifts closer. One knee between your legs again. Hand under your chin, tilting your face up to his. Finally, the blade touches your skin. “Stay still,” he mutters.

The metal is cold when it drags along your collarbone, slow. You whimper, but don’t pull away. It’s not deep. Just enough to hurt a bit. Just enough to bleed a little. When he leans back, satisfied, there’s a rough little 'J' carved just above your heart.

“Now you’re mine,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. Then louder “ So don’t go forgettin’ who you belong to, girl.”

You don’t say anything. You’re too out of it. Your fingers come back red as you touch the small mark.

He tucks the knife away. “I’ll find you again. Same spot. Don't make me come lookin' for you." And then he’s gone. Just like that.

You stay there, knees scraped, heart pounding, sticky, aching and marked. You should be afraid. Instead, your fingers ghost over the wound, and all you can think is he’s coming back.

You walk home with your head light and your lips smiling. So stupid. So giddy. You’ll clean yourself up, cover the mark with something soft and cottony. And maybe tomorrow, you’ll wear something nicer to work. Just in case he’s watching.

[sugarwarachan]

TODOROKI SHOTO AND ICE KINK ????????

(i am thinking about this extensively at work today)

18+ - you and best friend shouto finding out how much he likes using his quirk on you (cws: mdni, f!reader, oblivious idiots)

-

the heat hasn’t let up for days. at this point, you’ve forgotten what it feels like to be cool, the minimal amount of clothing on your body already sticky and damp.

condensation drips down the side of your beer. it’s gone lukewarm like tepid bath water, and you nearly chuck it over the side of the porch in frustration.

“are you hot?” shouto asks genuinely. you quell the urge to roll your eyes. it's sweltering.

“you could say that.”

one slim eyebrow rises.

“what if i said i could help?”

he shifts behind you, widening his stance—one knee up, one leg out—and pats his chest.

“lean back a little.”

calloused fingertips skim the sweaty hairs at the nape of your neck. your breath hitches; you’d expected his touch to be slightly softer, and the drag against your skin makes you want to arch your back into his touch.

“i’m going to try something. let me know if it feels weird.”

tendrils of ice whisper down the back of your neck, following the descent of sweat disappearing into your shirt. relief and unchecked pleasure race through your veins; you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

“how’s that?” his breath tickles your ear.

“it, um. feels good. cold, obviously.” a laugh squeaks out. “but good.”

his forearm cages you closer.

"will you relax against me?"

your traitorous body obeys before you can stop it. his fingertips bracket your ribs, thumbs on either side of your breasts.

"this okay?" it’s his usual monotone, which seems so at odds with your sweeping realization that your relationship with him is tilting on its axis.

"yeah," you breathe out.

the sweat pooling under your tits slowly crystallizes.

your nipples pebble sharply, twisting against the thin material of your tank top. a drawn-out whimper erupts from your chest before you can stop it— you scramble away from shouto, upending your beer bottle and making hasty excuses to check on your plants at home.

(the only reason shouto’s happy that you leave as quickly as you do is because he was seconds away from holding you down and tracing patterns of ice down your waist and tummy until he reached the swollen bud of your clit)

[misssakuramochi]

A SENKU x READER DRABBLE

Synopsis: Normally, you're perfectly happy to idle away at Senku's side as something of an assistant, helping wherever he might need you. It's not until a few hard-hitting comments by the campfire that you start to think you might be overcrowding your favourite scientist.

Requested by: A Lovely Anonymous Requester

Request: 'I am sorry I am distrubing you but do you open for request now? I apologize if Iam impolite but if yes, can I request drabble of senku x reader (dr.stone) where reader is a clingy person who follow Senku everywhere and do things Senku ask that are within her ability. Reader love language is physical touch though doesn't show it to Senku because afraid of annoying him. Basically , How do you think Senku will react if Reader suddenly doesn't cling to him anymore because afraid of annoying him.'

Age Rating: N/A

Warnings: Topics of insecurity and self-doubt

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

There was no way to sugar coat it, or any more flattering way to splice it; you were, for better or for worse, clingy. You knew it - Senku knew it - everyone knew it. It wasn’t a secret you exactly tried to keep hidden. Mindful as you tried to be of others social energy and where it might not align with yours, you couldn’t help but find your days more enjoyable when you had those you cared for at your side to enjoy them with you. It wasn’t always romantic - you tended to cling to your friends, too, often finding yourself craving the company of some manner of companion over the entertainment of your own thoughts. Of course, that wasn’t to say it was entirely unromantic either. Once the spark of attraction was lit, you couldn’t help but crave the attention of the person who interested you most over that of anyone else. So, once you had finally realized just how much you had come to like Senku, you had begun to find it hard to keep yourself apart from him.

Very much contrary to yourself, Senku wasn’t a person for such sentiments. He had a goal in mind, and if he wanted to finish it in time to see it come to fruition he had a lot to get done. For better or for worse he was level-headed, practically minded, and extremely logical. If spending time with someone would take away from his goals, he wasn’t going to be inclined to do it nearly so often, enjoy their company or not.

Drawbacks as they may have had, the machinations of Senku’s mind were something you’d come to love about him. His over-logical, straightforward responses often triggering fondness in your chest where others may have faltered under his blunt-faced words. Respect his nature as you might, though, none of that stopped you from wanting to spend time with him. So, you resolved ever-simply to make yourself useful.

It wasn’t as though that was a particularly tedious goal for you to start. It had always been important to you to be useful, to help the people you cared for however you might be able to. After the world’s descent into stone it was more important now than ever to work together, anyway, so helping Senku rebuild what was lost hardly seemed to be any sort of burden.

Before long you’d earned yourself the honorary title of Senku’s loyal assistant. Though it was a name first given to you in jest by Gen, who’d opted to poke a little fun at you for your ever-obvious feelings for your mad scientist of a leader (and he had been chastised rather quickly by Senku for it) it hadn’t taken too many more days of you following around after Senku to help with whatever work he happened to find for himself for the nickname to catch on. 

It had embarrassed you at first, a little, to be called out so bluntly for the way you followed Senku about, admittedly a bit like a lost puppy. But, behind the teasing words were kind smiles and supportive friends, and soon you’d settled into the moniker. Once you’d begun to take the jabs with teasing pride Senku’s disdain for them all but seemed to disappear, the joke becoming commonplace.

A loud voice pulled you from your reminiscence and a slight inclination of your head brought Yo into view, arms waving enthusiastically above his head as he beckoned you to join the group he sat with at the fireside.

“Yo! It’s [Name]! Rare to see you out of the lab. Senku finally pass out on his paperwork?” The bellowing laughter that came to follow would have told you Yo was drunk even without the wafting smell of stone-age alcohol that coated him like overapplied cologne, hitting you like a wall as you came closer. Still, rambunctious as he got, he wasn’t… bad, exactly. So, even as a bulky arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into a sloppy, sideways hug, you just gave Yo an awkward smile.

“Oh, no, he just told me I should take a break. We’ve been working since lunch so I thought maybe I’d bring him someth--”

“Ahhh, that’s rough!” Yo’s sudden exclamation took you by surprise, especially as one dramatic arm (the one that wasn’t still holding you in a drunken embrace) raised to hold his brow, lips downturned in a deep frown, “No wonder you came to grab a drink, eh? You! Go get them a double.” Though you initially met Yo’s apparent sympathy with blank-eyed confusion, the solemn nods of the others around the fire had your brow slowly curving in concern. While the agreement of Yo’s men was questionable, even Magma and Mantle were nodding along as if witnessing some unspoken tragedy that you, despite being the star of, had yet to be informed about.

“Can’t say I blame him though. A man needs some space every now and again.” Magma’s shrug, heavy but dismissive as he threw a clean-gnawed bone into the fire, put together the missing pieces for you.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. Don’t get me wrong, Senku’s a good guy but he’s like. Weird, you know? Here, don’t beat yourself up.” Though Yo seemed to pick up on your shift in mood as your face fell, and you knew he was well intentioned as he pushed the drink he’d had one of his subordinates fetch you towards your face, but the acidic smell of alcohol against your nose burned like insult on top of injury, and as your mind swirled in new-found paranoias you found your feet moving, quickly untangling from Yo’s light grip as you found yourself needing to be anywhere else.

“Um, sorry I’m not really thirsty. I have something I need to take care of, so…” Polite as ever you tried not to trip over yourself as you made your exit, struggling to keep your voice even over the lump aching in your throat. Too distracted to catch the way Yo turned to chastise Magma, you found your thoughts all-encompassing, your walk back to the small hut that served as your sleeping quarters a blur of whirling emotion and the strained effort to hide it.

You had been trying, for a long time, to tell yourself that you weren’t a bother. There were others in the village who were stronger than you, smarter than you, more dexterous and more inventive. But, you had always told yourself that none of that mattered. Maybe you couldn’t be as intelligent and persistent as Senku and his unwavering spirit; maybe you couldn’t be as quick to learn and improvise as Chrome; maybe you couldn’t be as fast as Kohaku, as strong as Magma, as charismatic as Gen, but if you could just be useful, it didn’t matter. If you could just help everyone, anyone, in whatever way you could, you had told yourself that that would be enough. But, maybe you were a liar. Maybe all of that, all of those thoughts, were nothing more than an elaborate way to free yourself of the guilt of trying to steal all of Senku’s time away for yourself; of being deeply, whole-heartedly selfish. Were you even trying to help him, anyone else, at all? Or did it just benefit you?

It would be those thoughts that kept you paralyzed for the next week. Each temptation to find Senku, to check in on his progress or see if he might be in need of a hand, was met with the icy thought that he may very well prefer that you didn’t. Hesitation held a cold grip on your heart, squeezing when you pictured the confrontation. If you asked Senku if you were a bother, you knew he wouldn’t lie to you. While Senku’s honesty usually made you feel safe, right now you couldn’t help but admit that it scared you. And so, you found yourself spending your days shying away from the lab you’d spent the last several months in, time spent with the others keeping you sated and perhaps sane as they drove away the chattering demons of self-doubt. Living to keep the demons at bay led you into a pattern of monotony, empty-eyed and unenthused as you painted on a smile you knew wasn’t as convincing as you wanted it to be. Still, it was better than being a burden.

It was the final evening after your week of reclusion that you finally felt something other than cold emptiness and choking depression; hysterical terror. Though, this stint of horror was blessedly short lived.

When the end of your work days came you had, as of late, found yourself longing for the thoughtless bliss of sleep almost desperately. Shrugging free of your clothes as you walked into the mud and straw building you’d come to call home you’d drop into a bed of straw and wait for the darkness to come. It had become such a standard routine that, when it was broken, you thought yourself viable to have a heart attack. Stepping into a dark home and hanging the leather overcoat that kept you warm through the change of seasons and seeing movement in the dark would have been enough to set you on edge; the lighting of your bedside candle from across the room made you scream.

“Wh-- hey, it’s me! Calm down!” Standing at the opposite end of your hut, illuminated now in the flickering orange of candlelight, Senku had the audacity to look annoyed by your reaction to his break-in. As you stared at his familiar, flat expression you found your fear begin to ebb - only for it to flow back as your eyes caught the shadow cast on the wall. In the unsteady light of a tiny flame his hair swirled in angry shadows behind him, limbs overlong and twitching; Senku, and the version of him you’d been so afraid to face. It didn’t look like he was going to let you run anymore, either.

“What are you doing in my room?” Senku’s frown only dipped as you posed your question, eyes locking with yours with a stern hardness that told you he wasn’t here to play games with you.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Seeing you open your mouth to protest Senku raised and hand and continued, not giving you the opportunity to defend yourself; he didn’t want to waste time with the argument, “You’ve spent approximately 10 hours each day in the science lab working on projects with me each month up until last week - when you stopped coming altogether. You also haven’t been to any of the places you normally go, which means you’re avoiding whoever might look for you there.” Senku’s eyes dared you to challenge him, crossed arms speaking of his rigidity. Still, with your shoddy plans and simple intentions laid so plainly bare, it was hard to find any genuine argument.

“Well?” His simple response in the face of your downtrodden guilt snapped your eyes back from the floor to his, the casual, brow-quirked expression on his face only surprising you further. He hardly seemed upset - just impatient, perhaps as his hands found his hips and he inclined his head slightly towards you, “What did I do?”

This time your shock seemed to surprise him, too. Still, you couldn’t help your wide-eyed stare as, once again, the pieces clicked into place. You’d fit in the ones Magma had given you before, but you hadn’t stopped for even a moment to consider if they were even a part of the right puzzle. So overwhelmed with self-doubt and anxiety, you hadn’t stopped to see if they added to the right picture. While you’d been busy drowning yourself in your own tears, Senku had been trying to figure out how he’d upset you.

“N-no, Senku, it wasn’t--”

“Seriously, don’t bullshit me. If you’re mad at me I can’t fix it if--”

“Senku.” It wasn’t often that you spoke so softly and so genuinely, old habits of smiling to appease and speaking to placate carrying over even in this new world. It took Senku off guard to hear you speak his name that way, your smile somehow both guilty and earnest as you finally crossed the room to stand closer to your friend.

“I mean it. You didn’t do anything.” As his eyes pushed you for explanation you found yourself becoming bashful, gaze escaping his as nervous hands began to play with grown out strands of your hair as if you'd find an excuse less embarrassing than the truth within their tresses, “I just got worried that I was bothering you so I decided to give you some space.”

Senku’s eyes, narrowed as his lips pursed to push out a small hum, told you that explanation wasn’t quite enough for him - he could tell there was more, and he wasn’t about to let you go with any unspoken turmoils. Not after he’d gone through all the effort of learning your ever-changing schedule to corner you just to address them.

“Yeah? Who told you that?” The way your shoulders stiffened at the question told Senku immediately that he’d hit the right nail, and rather directly. It made him pause, for just a moment, thinking about how you specifically must have felt being made to think of yourself as burdensome; he was quick to sigh off the dull ache it caused in his chest, shrugging to himself. He’d found you and cleared the issue, which he supposed was all that really mattered now.

“Yo and Magma said that maybe… I should give you… space…” Senku had finally been ready to let it go when you opted to answer. The way he looked at you as you spoke, though, took away what little steam you’d had starting the sentence. Mouth having cocked ever so slightly ajar as brows flattened and eyes focused in on you, Senku’s reaction to this information was obvious. It did little to ease your embarrassment when his words came out to echo what his face already spoke clearly.

“You took advice from Yo and Magma?” Despite himself Senku found a grin quirking his lips as your cheeks tinged pink, pouting over your light-hearted embarrassment at having your actions laid bare so logically. As you began to whine about his assessment, Senku found himself unable to hold back a laugh. He couldn’t deny that you were cute.

“Look.” The sudden serious shift to Senku’s tone took you off guard once more, pout-protruded lips parting as you snapped back to genuine attention, “You don’t bother me. If I needed more time to myself I’d just say that.” Though the casual way he scratched at his ear feigned ease, you knew he was trying to settle your nerves.

“Besides,” Senku’s grin turned sharper as his voice took on a teasing lilt, fingers raising to give your cheek a teasing pinch, “who’s going to test out all of our experiments if I don’t have my assistant with me, huh?” As often as others had referred to you as Senku’s assistant, he’d never admitted it himself; hearing the words from his mouth made your heart clench and you moved despite yourself as your arms came to wrap around Senku’s waist, pulling him in for the hug you’d been aching to give him for ages.

Much as Senku groaned a mild complaint about the overly-emotional contact he made no move to resist you, fighting only the smile that threatened to show his thoughts more honestly on his lips than he wanted, for the moment. Rather, he allowed you your moment, reciprocating by means of a somewhat stiff hand resting atop your head.

“If you’re worried about something just talk to me about it. That makes the most sense.” Even under the light chastisement you just smiled, nodding into the loose leathers of Senku’s clothes. You’d spent more than enough time to find comfort in his bluntness, knowing he had just as much told you not to be stupid next time as he had told you that he was there to support you, and he didn't want you hesitating to rely on him.

“Thanks, Senku.”

“Yeah.” A soft scratch to your hair made you hold tighter, and Senku was quick to take to surprise.

“You can let go of me now.”

“One more minute.”

“Eh?!”

xxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Hello Anon! Please do not worry, my requests are open and I am always happy to have more things to write! You were not rude at all. Thank you for your request. I hope you like how it turned out!

As always, thank everyone else who took the time to read as well, and I hope you enjoyed just the same.

Safe travels, readers!

[emily--prentiss]

I LOVE YOU, ALWAYS FOREVER

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

cw: mentions of pregnancy/childbirth, no use of Y/N, just pure fluff and love

a/n: I’ve caught the writing bug again! after so long not writing anything, I now can’t seem to stop. anyway, please enjoy this short fic of aaron just being absolutely smitten with his girls <3

word count: 1.2k

You hadn’t thought it was possible to love him more.

From the moment he’d first asked you on a date - uncharacteristically timid, stumbling over his words, so unlike the fearless leader you’d come to idolise and respect since joining the team all those years ago - he’d treated you as if you’d hung the stars in the sky yourself.

He wasn’t overly affectionate in public, but you didn’t mind. You were well aware that he had an image to uphold. When you were alone, however, he showered you with affection. It was overwhelming at first, and you’d felt undeserving, not used to being in a relationship with someone that adored you, that loved you completely, that respected you all the more. But as time wore on, you’d become accustomed to these little romantic gestures that, even now, had your cheeks tinting a light pink, butterflies forming in your stomach, and a smile that you tried (and failed) to suppress tugging at your lips.

On the nights where you were apart, back when you were still living in your own apartment, he formed small, affectionate habits. He’d send a text to check you were home safe, following a date or a long day at the office. He’d have flowers delivered regularly, bright bouquets waiting on your doorstep when you returned home from a gruelling case, always accompanied by the sweetest, handwritten note (you had a shoebox full of them tucked away in your closet, a physical reminder of his love for you). He’d call you as you settled into bed, his voice gentle over the phone as he was wished you sweet dreams, told you how much he missed you, how he couldn’t wait to see you again.

When you moved in with him, just a few short months before he proposed, his gestures changed in tandem with your relationship. If he had to be at the office early, you’d wake to a note left atop his pillow, hastily written messages of love and adoration ensuring a beautiful start to your day. After a particularly difficult case, he’d usher you into the bathroom the moment you got home. He’d run you a bath, help you ease into the water, and disappear into the kitchen to cook you one of your favourite meals while you allowed the hot water and bubbles to melt away your troubles.

On your wedding day, he’d allowed himself to be less reserved. The moment he saw you, as you began your descent down the aisle, he was consumed by emotions, his beautiful eyes shining with unshed tears. He’d leaned into you as you took his hand, matching smiles on your faces, and whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you just how beautiful he thought you’d looked. He seemed unable to resist touching you after that initial contact. At any given moment, his hand was pressed to the small of your back, or his fingers were intertwined with your own, or his lips were pressing tender kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. Though he kept reminding you of his love for you throughout the day, whispering it into your skin, you could feel it through those small gestures, too.

He held you close to him as you danced together for the first time as man and wife. His eyes were on you the entire time as the pair of you moved effortlessly around the dance floor, surrounded by your loved ones, his ever present smile unwavering. During his speech, you’d cried tears of happiness, so overwhelmed by the life he’d given you, the joy he made you feel every day.

He loved you wholly, and you didn’t think you could love him more.

That was, until the first time you saw him hold your daughter.

It had been gruelling, the birth. Long. Tiring. Aaron had been by your side constantly. He held your hand, wiped the sweat from your brow, and told you over and over how proud he was of you.

And the smile that had consumed him, all teeth and dimples as your daughter had come kicking and screaming into the world, left you breathless.

He was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on her. Had waited for your subtle nod of assent before he left your side to be with her while the nurses weighed her and cleaned her up, unable to take his eyes off of her for a moment. When she was placed in your arms for the first time, he’d wrapped his arms around the two of you as a choked noise left you, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. And although you weren’t alone in the room, midwife and nurses alike still floating around, it felt as though the world had shrunk to just the three of you - husband, wife, child.

He whispered against your cheek how perfect, how beautiful she was. Just like her mother. You’d scoffed then, partly because you’d always been unable to accept a compliment, mostly because you were certain you were anything but beautiful in that moment. Your hair most definitely resembled a birds nest, your lips were chapped and dry, and the sweat had dried uncomfortable onto your skin. But as you’d looked up at him and found his gaze settled on you for the briefest of moments before he’d leant forward to press a gentle, loving kiss to your lips, you thought perhaps he’d truly meant it.

Aaron didn’t hold the baby - Ivy, you’d settled on fairly quickly - until the three of you were finally alone. Though he’d refused to stray far, he knew how important those initial moments of bonding were between you and your tiny speck of a baby, so had refrained for as long as possible. But after a while, you’d looked over at where he stood towered over your bed, eyes roving over the baby as if trying to memorise every tiny detail of her little body. When you’d finally caught his eye, you’d tilted your head in a silent invitation that he join the two of you on the bed, a small laugh bubbling out of you at how quickly he shuffled in beside you. The baby was transferred into his awaiting arms, and as you curled yourself into his side as best as you could, you felt your breath catch in your throat at the sight of them.

Ivy, who was already a little small for her age, appeared even more so as she nestled into her father’s chest. The palm of one of his hands encompassed her back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against her through the blanket she was wrapped up in. The baby had grizzled as she’d been moved from her mother’s arms to her father’s. But as Aaron whispered into her ear how much he already loved her - something he’d done to you countless times over the years - she settled, as if she knew she was safe. Protected by the first man to ever love her.

And as the three of you rested in comfortable silence, you felt it again.

That love for him, a love that already felt all encompassing, growing even more.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 22

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, feeling of betrayal, mentions of loss of appetite, arguments, this ones a looooooong one

The sun is beginning its slow descent by the time I finally drag myself out of bed. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been carrying the weight of the world in my chest. I need something, anything, to ground me, and right now, a cup of tea sounds like the only thing that might help.

That’s the plan. Go to the kitchen, make it, and come straight back up to my room. I’ll sit on my balcony and watch the last bits of sunlight disappear while I think about what to do next.

 But my main goal: avoid Matt.

I slip out of my room, moving as quietly as possible. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. The house is silent apart from the distant murmur of voices outside on the patio. I catch a glimpse through the window, figures sitting around, but I can’t make out exactly who. Not that it matters. I’m not stopping to find out.

The only sound that gives away my presence is the low whirl of the kettle. I stand there, staring at it as it heats up, feeling every second drag out like an eternity. I grab a mug and put the tea bag in it so as soon as it clicks off, I can pour the water and milk, moving quickly but carefully. Just get in, get out.

Successfully, I make my tea. 

Mission accomplished. 

Now, I just need to make it back upstairs.

But just as I start up the steps, the sound of the patio door sliding open sends a jolt of panic through me. 

Shit.

I don’t even turn to see who it is, I just pick up my pace, practically going up the steps two at a time.

I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner, then..

BAM.

I nearly spill my tea everywhere as I slam into someone, my breath catching in my throat. I look up, and my stomach drops.

Matt.

For a split second, time slows. His eyes lock onto mine, searching, but I don’t give him the chance. Like I’m on autopilot, my feet keep moving, my mouth stays shut, and I walk right past him without a single word.

I don’t stop. I don’t hesitate. I reach my room, step inside, and lock the door behind me.

I let out a shaky breath, gripping my mug a little tighter. I try my best to shake it off. It was just a few seconds. Just an unfortunate encounter in a house that now feels way too small.

I know I’m going to have to face him sooner or later. There’s no avoiding it forever. But I’m not ready right now, not for a one on one, not for the inevitable conversation.

So, instead of dwelling on it, I step onto the balcony. The sun is slowly dropping lower, so I sit here and try an appreciate the sky, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe..

Until there's a knock at my door.

I freeze.

No. No, no, no. If this is Matt, I swear to god.

But then I hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Y/n? It’s me.”

Nick.

Relief washes over me so quickly it almost knocks me over. I exhale, setting my tea down on the small table before walking back inside. I hesitate for just a second before unlocking the door.

Nick steps into the room, his expression soft but searching mine. "How you doing?"

I shrug lightly, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay.. I just made a cup of tea. Was gonna sit out on the balcony while the sun sets."

Nick nods, his eyes flicking toward the open balcony doors. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not" I say, stepping aside so he can follow me out.

We settle into the chairs. The silence between us is comforting, a huge difference to the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

After a minute, Nick clears his throat. "I ran into Matt coming up the stairs."

My body stiffens, fingers tightening around my mug. "Oh."

“I just asked if he had spoken to you yet, and he said no."

I huff out a breath, looking back toward the view. I take a slow sip of my tea before turning back to Nick. "So, what's your plan for the night?"

He leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I'm gonna go meet that guy."

I raise an eyebrow. "That guy? You’ve been talking about him for days, and I still don’t even know his name."

Nick hesitates, his expression shifting slightly. He looks at me like he's bracing for something.

I narrow my eyes. "Nick.. what?"

He winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "His name is.. George."

For a second, we just stare at each other. Then, at the exact same moment, we both burst out laughing.

"George?!" I manage between laughs.

"I know! I know!" Nick groans, covering his face. "I was hoping you wouldn’t ask."

"I'm sorry, but that’s just- " I laugh harder, shaking my head.

Nick grins, finally giving in. "I know I never pictured myself with a George but I swear, the way he is makes up for it though!"

"I'm sure it does.." I say, still giggling. "It's just.. George."

We end our fit of laughter and I don’t bother asking what everyone else’s plans are, especially after overhearing Chris earlier. My guess is he’s going to meet Rachel. Whether Matt tags along to meet Christina too is a different story. I don’t want to know. All I know is that I’m not moving from this room.

Nick doesn’t press the conversation any further, and I appreciate that. Instead, we sit there, laughter lingering in the air between us. I'm glad Nick came into me because suddenly I feel a little bit lighter.

Eventually, he checks his phone and sighs. "I should probably start getting ready."

I nod, still staring at the sunset. "Yeah. Have fun."

Nick hesitates for a second before standing. "You sure you’re good?"

I glance at him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’m good." I mean it is a lie, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

He squeezes my shoulder before heading out. I exhale, setting my empty mug down on the table beside me. I know I should eat something, try to distract myself, maybe even attempt to sleep, but I don’t move. I stay curled up in my chair, staring at the fading sky, wondering how everything changed so fast.

When I finally move to my bed, I pull the covers up around me, but even laying here feels weird. The sheets feel awful against me now, tainted with memories that once brought comfort but now only make my stomach churn. My mind spirals, picturing how easily our history could be replicated in his bed, with someone else. The thought makes my chest tighten, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting it all to stop.

I take a deep breath, then another, but it doesn’t help. My mind keeps circling back to the same place, the same questions, the same ache in my chest that refuses to go away. How could he do this? Did any of it mean anything? Was I just another passing moment for him?

I need to make it stop.

I turn onto my side, curling into myself, exhausted from it all. Being honest, my eyes hurt that much from crying, I don’t find it hard to fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning determined to be a new woman. I have a shower to wash away all of yesterday's sorrow, before pulling out the smallest blue bikini I could find. I make my way downstairs and throw myself together a small breakfast, considering I haven't eaten in over 24 hours but not forcing myself too much as my appetite still isn't fully back yet.

I take my breakfast outside to the patio and I settle onto a lounger, my plate resting on my lap. The villa is silent. Everyone must still be asleep, sleeping off their drunken choices, their reckless mistakes.

Good. I need the peace.

I take a slow bite of my food, staring out at the water. The pool glistens under the morning light, the water undisturbed. Today is a new day. A fresh start.

I adjust my sunglasses and stretch out after putting my plate under my lounger, determined to soak in the sun and let it warm the parts of me that feel cold and bitter. If anyone sees me out here, I want them to see that I’m unbothered. That I’m fine.

A few minutes pass in silence before I hear the sliding door creak open behind me. I don't turn to look. I don't react.

I realise it’s Nate and Nick coming out, both looking more awake than I expected.

"Morning" they say in unison, and I greet them with a small smile “Morning early birds.”

I turn to Nick first. "Soooo? How was your night with George?"

Nick rubs the back of his neck, and I can tell he’s holding back his excitement for my sake. "It was good" he says simply.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Nick."

He sighs, then finally lets the grin slip through. "Okay, fine. It was great, actually. We got drinks, had a laugh. He’s funny, really easy to talk to."

I smile at him, genuinely happy. "That’s what I like to hear. You deserve a good time."

Nick gives me a look, like he’s checking if I really mean it. I do. Just because my love life is a disaster doesn’t mean I want everyone else to be miserable with me.

I turn to Nate next. "And what about you? What were you up to?"

Nate stretches his arms over his head, looking far too well rested. "Didn’t move from my bed. Best sleep I’ve had in weeks."

I laugh. "Of course you did. You look like you just got back from a spa retreat while the rest of us look like we barely survived the night."

The three of us settle into conversation, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the lightness of it. But in the back of my mind, I know this moment won’t last. The rest of the villa is still asleep, for now. And soon enough, I’ll have to face the reality I’ve been trying to avoid.

"Is Chris up?" I ask Nate, trying to sound casual.

Nate shakes his head. "Don’t think he even came back here last night."

I swallow hard, nodding slowly. "Oh right"

There's been no sign of Matt either. That tells me everything I need to know.

Guess that means he went out with Chris and stayed with Christina last night again.

I should’ve expected it, but expecting something doesn’t make it hurt any less.

For the rest of the morning, it stays just me, Nick, and Nate chilling outside. The sun climbs higher, and the villa remains quiet, no sign of Chris or Matt. I sip on my water, listening to the distant waves crashing on the shore, slipping in and out of conversation with Nick and Nate as a distraction.

By midday, that peacefulness is interrupted. I hear the sliding door open, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching.

I lift my head slightly, peering through my sunglasses. Chris and Matt step outside together. Just seeing them like this, together, appearing at the same time, only further confirms what I already knew. 

Matt was with Christina last night.

I can feel my heart break over again, but I refuse to let it show.

Without a word, I rest my head back down on the lounger, keeping my sunglasses on, blocking them out. I’m not ready for any type of conversation. Not yet.

Nate and Nick casually greet them, like nothing is out of the ordinary. Chris stretches, rubbing the back of his neck, and asks if anyone’s hungry.

My stomach twists at the thought of food. The second I saw Matt, my appetite vanished again. So I keep my mouth closed.

Nate says he is and disappears inside with them, leaving just me and Nick alone by the pool.

The quiet settles between us for a moment before Nick turns to me. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?” His tone sounds like he wants me to be there, even though he understands If I don’t want to.

I hesitate. The idea of sitting at a table with Matt, pretending everything is fine, feels impossible. I open my mouth to say no, but Nick is already cutting me off.

“You don’t have to talk to him at all” he reassures me. “I’ll be there the whole time.”

I exhale, chewing on my bottom lip. I do feel bad if I don’t go. It’s just dinner, right? I mean, the tension between Matt and I is like old times, nothing I haven’t had to deal with or experience before. The only thing is, the feeling in my chest is a hundred times worse than it ever was before.

“Okay” I finally say. “I’ll come.”

Nick grins, tapping my arm lightly. “We’ll have a good time, I promise.”

I nod, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift.

By now, it’s nearly 3pm, and the sun has drained me but nowhere near as much as the situation with Matt has. The exhaustion clings to me, both physical and emotional, and I know if I don’t rest now, I’ll be useless later.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap” I mumble, pushing myself up from the lounger.

Nick gives me a small smile. “Good idea. I’ll wake you if you’re not up in time.”

I nod again, grateful, and make my way inside. The second I hit my bed, the world around me fades.

When I wake up, the air in my room feels heavier, the remnants of my dreams still in my brain. I shake them off and head straight for the shower.

By the time I step out, wrapped in a towel, I feel better. Maybe, tonight won’t be as bad as I think.

I walk out and go to sit at the vanity, but I feel like I need to lift the vibe even more.

A drink and music.

That’s what I need if I have any chance of enjoying myself tonight.

Still in my towel, I make my way downstairs, moving quickly so I don’t run into anyone. I pour myself a vodka lemonade, throwing pieces of ice into the fancy glass.

Running back up to my room, I shut the door, take a sip, and set my speaker on full blast. I turn on It’s ok, i’m ok by Tate McRae, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home. I let the music drown out my thoughts as I start getting ready, determined to feel like myself again, even if it’s just for tonight.

I move through my routine on autopilot, letting the music and the slight buzz from my drink carry me through. I’m not overthinking my outfit, my makeup, or my hair, yet somehow, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I look effortlessly put together. Maybe it’s the lighting, maybe it’s the fact that I’ve just given up on caring, but either way, I feel like this is the best I’ve ever looked.

I pick up my phone and text Nick, asking him to come to my room to take pictures. It barely takes a minute before he’s knocking on my door, slipping inside with an approving grin.

“Damnnnn!” he says, dragging the word out. “You look amazing.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my lips. “You have to say that.”

“I really don’t” he laughs, already pulling his phone out. “We need evidence of this moment.”

We take a few pictures together, Nick hyping me up between shots, making me laugh just enough to keep it natural.

When we’re satisfied with the pictures, I wonder where it is we’re actually going to eat. “So, where are we even going for dinner?”

“Some Italian place Chris booked” Nick says, glancing at his phone. “He said he made the reservation earlier.

I nod, I love italian food, so I’m hoping this whole thing is just easy. I grab my purse, double checking that I have everything, phone, keys to the villa, money. I take a deep breath before heading downstairs with Nick.

The moment we step into the foyer, I see them. Chris, Nate, and Matt are all standing together, talking casually like nothing has changed, like the last few days haven’t flipped my world upside down. Matt looks up first. For the briefest second, our eyes meet, and I swear I see something flash across his face, it’s something, but I can’t make out what. But I don’t let myself dwell on it.

I adjust the strap of my purse on my shoulder, forcing my expression to remain neutral. This is the closest I’ve been to Matt since the nightclub, since everything, but I refuse to let it get to me. Not tonight.

I tilt my chin up slightly, gripping onto my confidence like it’s my lifeline, and step forward like I don’t have a care in the world.

I stay locked in conversation with Nick as we leave the villa to make our way to the restaurant, trying to distract myself from the tension in the air. Chris lingers back slightly, eventually matching my pace as we walk. His presence next to me is quiet at first, almost hesitant, before he finally speaks.

"You okay?" His voice is low, careful, like he already knows the answer but feels the need to ask anyway.

It’s a weird one. I haven't heard from Chris since everything went down. He’s been distant, not in a hostile way, but in a way that tells me he didn’t know how to approach me. And now, here he is, finally asking.

I glance at him briefly, weighing my response before settling on, "I will be."

Chris nods slowly, seeming to accept that answer. “Can we talk later? About everything?”

I exhale softly, not quite ready to dive into whatever everything entails but knowing that it’s overdue. I don’t think there was any malice from him in this situation. And I’m not mad at him at all. I would like to know what his thought process was throughout all this. And maybe, he's actually done me a favour. “Yeah,” I agree. “Later.”

That seems to be enough for now. The group keeps moving, making our way toward the restaurant. When we arrive, the guys step inside ahead of us, but I notice them mumbling amongst themselves, their voices low and almost hurried, like there’s some sort of confusion.

Something about their body language makes me pause, and I follow their line of sight before realizing exactly what has caught their attention.

Rachel and Christina.

They’re seated at a table near the back. Five empty seats are pulled out beside them, waiting.

A sharp, sinking feeling settles in my stomach.

Of course. 

Of course they’re here. It was already bad enough having to see Matt, to sit across from him and pretend I wasn’t still breaking, but now, this?

I don’t even have to look at him to know. I can feel his presence, his hesitation. I wonder if he knew they’d be here. If this was always the plan.

My fingers tighten slightly around the strap of my purse as I will myself to keep my composure.

This night just got a whole lot harder.

Nick squeezes my hand gently, a silent reassurance that he’s here, that I’m not alone in this. “What do you wanna do?” he asks quietly, his voice just for me.

I take a breath, steadying myself. “Sit at the other end” I say, keeping my voice even, refusing to let this shake me any more than it already has.

Without hesitation, Nick follows my lead, guiding me toward the farthest end of the table, away from Rachel and Christina. I slide into my seat, positioning myself as far as I can from them, while Nick sits beside me, his presence like a barrier between me and whatever mess is sitting across the table.

Matt and Chris take their seats. Chris next to Rachel and Matt next to Christina. Whether it was planned or just happened naturally, I don’t know, but it doesn’t make a difference, the damage is done. 

The tension is suffocating. You could cut it with a knife. I never thought at the start of this trip I’d be sitting diagonally across from Matt and another girl.

Nobody speaks at first. There’s an awkward shuffle of menus being picked up, the quiet clinking of silverware as waiters move around us, but no real conversation. 

I keep my gaze down, focused on the menu even though I’m not really reading it. My appetite had started to come back earlier, but now? Completely gone again.

Nick, ever my lifeline in this nightmare, leans in slightly constantly making sure I’m okay. “You good?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

I nod once, though I’m not sure if I mean it. “Yeah” I lie. “I’m fine.”

But we both know I’m not.

I try to keep my focus on the menu, pretending to be absorbed in the options, but it’s impossible to ignore Christina. She is relentless, shifting in her seat so she’s angled toward Matt, her body language screaming interest. The way she leans forward, the way her fingers reach out casually to graze his forearm as she talks, it’s all so intentional.

“Oh my God, Matt, you look so good tonight” she purrs, tilting her head as she studies him. “Did you do something different? Your hair? A new cologne?”

Matt barely reacts, only offering a tight lipped smile as he glances at her briefly. “Uh, no. Same as always.” he replies, going back to his menu.

But Christina isn’t deterred. She lets out a soft, exaggerated sigh. “God, I can’t believe we’re all in Hawaii together. It feels like such a movie moment, don’t you think?” She flicks her gaze up at him through her lashes. “Like, if this was a movie, we’d be the main characters.”

Matt huffs a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t know about that, don’t really take myself as the main character type of guy.” His tone is light, but there’s no real engagement. He’s keeping it neutral.

She’s not giving up, though. She leans in again, dropping her voice to something more sultry. “You know, I had so much fun the other night” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. 

My stomach twists, but I don’t react. I refuse to. Instead, I lift my glass of water to my lips, taking a slow sip as if I’m completely unbothered.

Nick shifts beside me, subtly kicking my foot under the table as if to say don’t react. I know he’s watching me closely, waiting for me to crack, but I won’t.

Chris, who’s been silent this whole time, suddenly clears his throat. “Christina, didn’t you say this was your first time in Hawaii?”

It’s so obviously a distraction tactic, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to get her off Matt’s back or because he knows I’m sitting here, silently absorbing every word.

Christina finally tears her gaze away from Matt and glances at Chris. “Oh, yeah it is.” she says, waving a hand dismissively. 

Matt doesn’t say anything. He just flips a page of the menu, like none of this is even phasing him. Meanwhile, Rachel is watching me like a hawk, waiting for a reaction.

I meet her eyes for a split second and give her the most nonchalant look I can muster before turning to Nick. “What are you getting?” I ask, my voice steady.

Nick glances at me, eyes scanning my face for any sign of weakness before answering, “Probably the carbonara.”

I nod. “Good choice.”

Nate, ever the sweetheart, seems to pick up on everything, the way I’m keeping my head down, the way Nick keeps a protective presence beside me, the way Matt and Christina’s exchange is unfolding just within earshot. Without missing a beat, he slides into conversation with me and Nick as he’s seated opposite us, as if we’re in our own little bubble, separate from the tension on the other side of the table.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Nate asks, leaning forward with a smile. “I was thinking of heading down to the beach early. Maybe rent a jet ski or something. You two in?”

Nick catches on immediately, grateful for the shift in attention. “Absolutely. I’d love to see you wipe out within the first five minutes.”

Nate pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his chest. “Excuse you, I’m actually a professional. Very experienced!”

I can’t help but smile at their antics, grateful for the distraction. “Professional, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Nate smirks. “Oh, you will. And when I leave you both in my wake, don’t come crying to me.”

Nick scoffs. “Yeah, okay, Nate. Keep dreaming.”

As we laugh, it’s almost easy to forget the rest of the table exists, almost. Because out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris sitting stiffly, glancing between me and the rest of the group, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hasn’t even touched his menu. He just sits there, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he’s caught in the middle of something he never signed up for.

At one point, he opens his mouth like he wants to say something,to me, but then he hesitates, pressing his lips together instead. His fingers drum restlessly against the table. It’s almost like he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but he can’t.

I keep my focus on Nate and Nick as everyone gives their orders, letting them carry me through the moment, keeping me occupied. And for now, that’s all I need.

The food arrives shortly after, and I focus on my meal, keeping my eyes down, keeping my composure. If I just get through dinner, I’ll be fine.

But Christina doesn’t make it easy.

She just doesn’t stop, her voice carrying just loud enough to ensure I hear every flirtatious remark, every exaggerated giggle. It’s all so obvious, the way she leans toward Matt, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger. 

“Oh my God, Matt, you’re so funny” she forces, brushing her fingers against his wrist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hasn’t even said anything that funny.

“We should totally do something after this!” Christina continues, tilting her head. “Maybe check out that tiki bar? It would be so fun.”

Matt doesn’t commit. “Maybe.”

Maybe.

That single word twists something in my stomach, because it means he hasn’t outright said no. And I know it shouldn’t matter but that doesn’t stop the sting.

As everyone starts discussing where to go next, I stay quiet, already knowing my answer. The only place I want to be right now is home. I only ever agreed to dinner, nothing more. The idea of trailing behind while Christina continues her performance, while Matt does whatever he’s doing, is unbearable.

I lean toward Nick and quietly tell him, “I’m heading back.”

He nods in understanding, not even questioning it. “That’s fair. I’ll go for one drink, then I’ll be home after. We can debrief, I’ll try to get more info.”

I manage a small smile at that. If there’s anyone I can count on to feed me the details later, it’s Nick.

We both stand, and I feel Chris’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. If he wants to talk, he can find me when I’m not on the verge of either snapping or crying.

Nick walks me to the taxi rank just outside the restaurant, following behind me as we weave through the crowd. I should want to stay out, to drown out my thoughts with drinks and distractions, but all I want is to be alone.

“You sure you’re okay going back on your own?” Nick asks as we wait for a taxi to pull up.

I let out a breath. “Yeah. Just over it.”

Nick doesn’t push. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

A taxi pulls up, and he opens the door for me. Before I get in, he squeezes my hand briefly, just a reminder that I’m not alone in all of this.

I nod my thanks, slide into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, I finally let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

I pull up to the villa and thank the taxi man, paying him for the fare. I step out of the car and as I do one pulls up directly behind me.

I freeze for a second, my stomach tightening as I watch Matt step out of the taxi behind me. Of all people, of all times, it has to be him.

I don’t wait for him to say anything. I turn toward the villa, walking quickly up the steps, my heels clicking against the cobblestone pavement. I take my keys out of my bag, unlocking the front door.

I can hear him behind me, his footsteps unhurried, like he’s debating whether to call my name.

“Wait” Matt’s voice finally breaks the silence, and I feel his presence closer than I expected. “Can we talk?”

I let out a slow breath before turning to face him, the front door slightly open behind me. His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to figure out where my head is at.

“Talk about what, Matt?” My voice is steady, but I can feel the exhaustion creeping in.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost.. nervous? “About this. About everything.”

“I’m not too sure what there is to talk about” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’ve seen it all. I saw Christina in your bed. I saw how she was with you tonight.”

Matt’s face falls, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I don’t let him.

“And now, what? You think you can stand here and make some sorry excuse for your actions? Do you even realize how disrespectful that is?” My voice rises slightly, frustration taking over. “You can’t just act like nothing happened, Matt. You don’t get to do that.”

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, it’s a bit too late for that now.” I say, my voice sharp. 

"I’m sorry." he mutters.

I let out a short laugh. "Yeah. So am I.”

Matt stands there looking at me, almost confused.

“I'm sorry I let you play with me for so long. Sorry I let you in, that I actually believed there was something real between us. But it’s clear now, isn’t it? Whatever tension was there, it was only ever sexual for you."

Matt steps forward, opening his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

"So what now?" I snap, my voice shaking with anger. "What’s your next move? You feel bad for how you’ve treated me, so you’ll do what? Buy me flowers? But never actually give them to me? Did you ever track down Christina’s ex to get her locket back too? Or was that just a special little stunt for me?"

I let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking my head. "And don’t you dare try to tell me you haven’t been with anyone else since that night in the house. Christina basically spelled out what happened in Vegas to me at the club.”

Then realisation hits me. “It makes sense to me now, the real reason you customised your jacket that way. You didn’t do it because you felt something for me. You did it so if the topic of her in Vegas came up, you had something to sway me from believing it, so you could keep stringing me along.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Can you please listen to me? I didn’t even know they were coming out here” he says quickly, almost desperately, like that one fact will make any of this better.

I scoff, shaking my head. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot” he insists, stepping forward. “Chris was the one that brought them out here, he has a thing with Rachel and probably just-”

"-wants to smash?" I finish for him, my voice sharp. 

"Yeah, Matt, I know. Just like you said before, that Chris only gave me a job because he wants to smash?" I tilt my head, watching as realization dawns on his face. "Yeah. I heard you when you said that."

Matt shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never meant that" he mutters. "I swear, I didn’t mean it like that."

"Oh really?" I fold my arms, my patience running dangerously thin. "How exactly did you mean it then, Matt?" My voice is sharp, no bullshit. "Because it sounded a lot like you were trying to discredit any of the work I do."

Matt exhales sharply, looking away. "It wasn’t about that, okay?" His voice is tight, like he’s struggling to find the right words. "Maybe I was jealous, maybe I was pissed off at the whole situation, maybe I just-" He stops himself, his jaw locking.

"Maybe you just what?" I push, my voice rising slightly.

His silence is louder than anything he could say. And then, it hits me.

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "Oh my god. It was projection, wasn’t it?" I take a step closer, my words like a slap to the face. "You said Chris only gave me a job because he wanted to smash, but really, that was just you speaking for yourself. You only ever kept me around because that’s what you wanted."

I take a breath, my heart pounding. "And congratulations, Matt. You got it."

Matt’s face falls completely.

"And then you got it from her too, only a matter of hours later." My voice is laced with disgust, and I see the tears welling in Matt's eyes, but I don’t stop. "It’s obvious to me now, you never had feelings for me. You never cared."

I take another step closer, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve kept inside. "I know you saw me leave the club that night. I know you saw me walk out. And not once did you check on me. Not once did you care enough to see if I was okay. It was like, out of sight, out of mind. I disappeared, and you moved on like I was nothing."

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "And then you brought her back here, to the same villa I’m staying in, to rub it in my fucking face? Like this is some sick joke to you?" And then to keep doing it, over and over again, like it wasn’t enough to break me once?" My voice shakes, but not from weakness, from the sheer weight of the betrayal burning inside me. "You didn’t just move on, Matt. You made sure I saw it. You made sure I felt it. Like twisting the knife wasn’t enough, you had to keep pushing it in, again and again."

I shake my head, my breathing uneven. "And for what? To prove a point? To get back at me for something you thought I’ve done? Or was it just fun for you? To watch me fall apart while you played pretend with her?"

Matt’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, to defend himself, but I cut him off before he can even try. "No. Don’t. Because there’s nothing you can say that will make this okay. Nothing you can do that will undo the fact that you chose this. You chose to hurt me. And I’m fucking done." I spit, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve held back. 

"Because all you’ve ever done is choose to hurt me. Over and over again, like it’s second nature to you." I stop for a second to catch my breath, realising how pointless this all is. "I don’t even understand why you’re standing in front of me right now, when what you want is down at the bar with everyone else. Stop bothering me, and go back down there and get it."

Matt looks at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, like he wants to argue. Like he wants to fight his case. But he doesn’t get to, not now. Not after everything.

"In fact" I breathe out a bitter laugh, shaking my head, "don’t ever think of speaking to me again. Because it’s clear now, Matt, we were always better off when we didn’t speak. When we just ignored each other. Maybe that’s what we should’ve stayed."

My heart is hammering in my chest, my entire body shaking from the adrenaline coursing through me. 

I turn around and storm into the villa, slamming the door so hard behind me that the walls seem to shake with the force of it. But he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even try. Probably heading straight back down to the bar to get exactly what he wants. What he’s always wanted.

My blood is boiling as I march into my room, every step fueled by the sheer rage burning inside me. I feel like a bull, seeing red, ready to destroy everything in my path. But I don’t, because I don’t have time to waste on any of this anymore.

I grab my phone with trembling fingers, my vision blurring from unshed tears as I unlock it.

 I can’t stay here.

I refuse.

I pull up the American Airlines website, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling too fast. I don’t even hesitate as I search for the first available flight back home. 

The sooner, the better.

And when I find one, first thing tomorrow morning, I don’t even think twice. I press confirm before I can second guess myself, before the pain can catch up with me.

I’m leaving.

I’m done.

a/n : OOOOF. thats gotta sting.

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[theonlyonesora]

The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Chapter 7 - What Happens in Vegas...Stay in Vegas?

The plane hummed beneat you, soft and steady, but your mind was anything but. You stared out the window, clouds stretched like cotton over the desert below, Las Vegas disappearing behind you—leaving glitter and secrets in its wake.

You had your earbuds in, music low, pretending to sleep so no one would talk to you. Not Lily, not Oscar. You needed this silence. Because your brain was loud.

That weekend had been wild. Amazing, unforgettable. One for the chaotic friendship history books. Something to laugh about at a dinner table one day when you were older, wine-drunk, saying, “Remember that night in Vegas when we were young and hot and reckless?”

You’d meant for it to stay there. Really.

But somewhere between the second round in bed and the third round of tequila shots with Lando, it had stopped feeling like a one-time thing.

And now…

Now Lily was resting her head on Oscar’s shoulder in the seat beside you, scrolling through photos on her phone. He was smirking at something she showed him. Then he leaned slightly over to you, tapped your arm, and held out the screen.

It was a selfie—the three of you, tangled up on a hotel couch, cheeks flushed, laughing. You couldn’t even remember when it had been taken.

Oscar grinned. “Should we post this one?”

You blinked. “Seriously?”

“Why not?” Lily said, smiling. “We look really cute.”

You didn’t answer. Just smiled faintly and went back to your window.

Because cute was one thing. Trending as a poly ship on F1 TikTok was another.

You didn’t miss how Oscar added you to their group chat bio: 🏎️+🛠️+💰 = chaos trio ♥️

You didn’t say anything when Lily started tagging you both in stories. Or when fans began commenting things like “okay but if they’re not a throuple I don’t want it” and “Oscar is literally living the dream: two queens??”

And you definitely didn’t say anything when the three of you trended on Twitter after someone filmed you hugging Oscar a little too long in the paddock while Lily was laughing beside you.

But still, it sat in your chest like a knot: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?

Because it wasn’t looking just sex anymore.

It was them making space for you. Constantly. You hadn’t asked for it. But it was there. Growing. Shifting.

And for the first time since college started, you didn’t know how to define your place in someone’s life.

Friend? Lover? The third?

The plane dipped in descent. You sighed, deep and quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked gently. “Nothing,” you lied, smiling as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Just… tired.”

But in truth? You weren’t tired. You were terrified. Because what if this wasn’t just Vegas?

What if this was your life now? And you didn’t know how to love both of them.

.

You hadn’t exactly ghosted Lily and Oscar, but the vibe had shifted. Hard.

After Vegas, you came home and built your emotional sandcastle—tall walls, no entry, no lifeguards on duty. You didn’t answer late-night FaceTime calls. You muted the group chat. When Oscar DM’d you a meme about “3am mistakes and champagne logic,” you left it on read.

Exams were your official excuse.

Because nothing screamed “I need space” like a stack of unread finance textbooks and a spreadsheet of mock exams that could rival NASA's launch prep.

But really?

You needed to remember who you were before all of that. Before shared beds and breathless kisses and the way Oscar's hand slid over your spine like he already knew the map of you. Before Lily's eyes darkened with something unspoken when she whispered “just once” in Vegas and turned it into twice, and then again before coffee.

You weren’t trying to erase it. You just didn’t want to live in it.

So you took refuge in the library and your dorm’s study room. You crashed group study sessions with Jessy and Meg. You laughed louder, stayed longer, and leaned into the version of you who was just (Y/N)—finance student, night owl, meme queen.

Not (Y/N), the third point of a beautiful, confusing triangle.

And yet, no matter how far you pulled away, Oscar followed you on Instagram.

The wrong kind of symbolic.

Then came the tag in a carousel post by some F1 account: 📸 “The unexpected trio of the season?” With a photo of Lily, Oscar, and you on the grid. You in his jacket. Him looking at you. Lily laughing.

The comments were a battlefield:

“I KNEW they were all together. No way they’re just friends.” “Oscar pls share the tutorial.” “So is this like, a throuple orrr?” “(Y/N) is the luckiest girl alive.” “Lily is queen behavior for this.”

You turned off your comment notifications. Then your story replies. Then your visibility in tagged posts.

You didn’t unfollow him—but the thought hovered.

What got under your skin the most, though? Lily didn’t seem to care.

You tried to bring it up once, mid-latte, in the campus café.

“Do you ever feel… weird? About all the posts? The fans and stuff?”

She stirred her drink. “No. They’ll say what they want anyway.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

Lily shrugged. “It’s just noise. They don’t know us.”

Maybe she was right. But you didn’t know you either, anymore.

Because you’d spent the last few months swimming in something undefined—intimacy with no shape, love with no boundaries, friendship with its hands all over you.

You needed space. To breathe. To reset. To not crave something that never came with a label.

And if that meant slowly stepping out of the frame, so be it. You just weren’t sure if either of them would let you go so easily.

Tag List:

@freyathehuntress, @mimisweetz, @aleatorio1234, @totallynotluluu, @rorabelle15, @prongslena, @linnygirl09, @mangotaitai, @forensicheart, @devilacot, @lilorose25, @landofotographyy, @paolexsstuff, @sanctify-mp3, @emma-manuhpe

[yorshie]

sees your requests open and slides in like a penguin on ice 🧊

possibly showing off a new swimsuit in front of the turtles in hopes it gets Raph's attention because every other hint you've dropped has gone wayyyy over his head (...or so you assume) 👀

showers you in love and sparkles!!! ✨️💕🫂

Kkkkkeeeeeiiiiisssshhhhhhaaaaaaa. *clings to you like a wet noodle*

I scrolled all the way down to the bottom of my requests and gasped when I saw your name. >:3. I gladly shower in the love and sparkles, and hope you forgive me for the amount of silent pining I’m about to shove down everyone’s throat. lol.

Bay Raph x fem reader (I think the only gendered terms are two pieces bathing suit but idk does that count in 2025? Question mark? Idk I’m tired)

SFW

Ok. Breathe. You can do this.

The mid-morning sun cut through the lacy curtains and across the tiny vanity surrounding the sink. The bathroom you were holed up in was better suited for the sixties, with the chair rail topped with faded, flowered wallpaper and the worn floor that couldn’t quite hide the handmade nails driven in to hold the boards in place. You knew plans had been made and then discarded over and over concerning updating it, but no one could quite agree on how to update it, and hardly anyone came up to use the little bathroom cooped up at the end of the hallway to be reminded about it.

Which was precisely why you were holed up in it now. Even though the door hadn’t locked for years, it was the safest place to hype yourself up.

You were failing miserably.

“You got this,” You told your reflection for what felt like the hundredth time, gaze flicking down below your chin before resolutely jerking back up to your face.

A second ruled by your thundering heartbeat, before you gave in. “Nope. I can’t do this.”

It’s just a bathing suit. You reasoned with yourself. Just a bathing suit, modest even for two piece standards if you were being honest but…

God, it….. it was so red.

The exact same shade of red as Raph’s bandana.

You’d hunted for that exact shade of color, of course. You practically had it tattooed to the back of your eyelids, had lost countless hours imagining what the feel of that bandana would be like under your fingers if you were only brave enough to reach out.

You’d contemplated it, once, when leaning against the back of the couch while bantering with Raphael. Had thought about just… reaching out, twirling the nearest loop of fabric about your fingers and wrist like it was something commonplace, something you were allowed to do-

But your bravery had deserted you the moment Raph had looked over his shoulder at you, eyes crinkled soft in silent laughter, relaxed and carefree in the conversation. Something you had thought impossible when you had first met him.

You couldn’t have handled it if that soft look had disappeared, if the armored walls he had slowly lowered during the time you’d known him snapped back into place.

You stared at the red bathing suit again, tugging on it gently in the hopes it might cover up more perceived flaws, like it might answer your unspoken questions, like it might give insight on whether or not this would work.

None of the other things you’d chanced to show Raph how you’d felt had worked, after all.

You wanted… You just wanted to show him…

You let out a pained, warbling curse, head dropping to rest in your hands as you contemplated sneaking back to the room you were sharing with April and pretending you were too sick to go downstairs.

A heavy knock sounded on the door, a muffled voice quickly to follow. “Hey, princess, ready to go?”

You startled, badly, tripping on the worn, warm rug laid out in front of the claw footed tub and having to catch yourself to keep from going completely ass over tea kettle into the cold porcelain.

It hurt, no matter what, slipping on the rim and sliding into the hollow, swim suit bottom riding up painfully on the descent.

Raph called your name out in question while you internally panicked, staring at the door while dread coiled oily and dark beneath your sternum.

”I’m- fine!” You called back, wincing internally when your voice cracked in a lie between the two words.

Evidently Raph heard the tell as well. “uh, huh. Yeah, sure. Try that again, peaches. You good?” There came a testing rattle of the doorknob, and your heart leapt. “You didn’t fall, right?”

“Don’t-“ you struggled to get back on your feet, hands and hip slipping on the tub with a loud squeak when your skin stuck to the cold surface. “Don’t open the door!”

The testing jiggle of the doorknob stopped, and you could feel the stare Raph was leveling at the door through his pointed silence. “You did fall.”

Accusing. You flinched at the sound, stumbling towards the door and leaning both hands against it like that might succeed in keeping him out if he decided otherwise.

“I promise I’m fine!” You hurriedly looked around for your T-shirt, anything, a towel for god’s sake, to wrap yourself in. A helpful thought flitted through your mind that you had left your clothes on your borrowed bed to avoid the exact scenario of trying to hide the bathing suit, and your head thunked against the door in internal shame.

Raph shifted on the other side, feet scuffing slightly. You could hear the sound of stiff fabric rubbing against scales, and realized he must have been on his way out to the pond when he came to check on you, the stiff sound of swim shorts unmistakable.

“Ok…. Well, I got a towel for ya, if you want it, so you don’t have to sit on the grass when we’re done swimming. You ready to go?” It was a lot, you knew, for him to give up the line of questioning. It made the answer you were about to give him sour all the more.

You gripped the door knob tight, your other hand clenching tight enough to drive your nails into your skin as you waffled. “I- I don’t think I can.”

A pointed silence. Then: “What? Why?”

It was your turn to shift, weighing each word. “I’m uncomfortable.”

Raph turned that over for a moment in silence, before you heard another rustle of cloth. “Here- open up.”

You gripped the doorknob tighter, parroting him in words and tone without meaning to. “What? Why?”

“S’ my shirt,” The door opened despite you clinging to it, just a smidge, just enough for him to wedge the article of clothing through the crack. “You can cover up with it, so you can still have fun.”

You took the shirt automatically, staring at it like it was a foreign thing while Raph shut the door once more with a soft click.

It was worn, likely years old, the seams frayed and a number of small holes dotting along the neckline. It would likely swallow you whole, take several rubber bands to hold to your frame, but…

It was red. A more muted color than your bathing suit, but-

You swallowed, hard, setting the shirt on the sink and laying a hand on it for comfort, before steeling your spine.

You heard Raph take a preemptive step when you turned the knob, backing up out of the way, but your eyes were fixed somewhere on his midriff as you stepped out into the hallway next to him.

”You…” His words trailed off, sounding a bit higher pitched than you were used to, and you chanced a look up at his face.

Green eyed wide, he stared at you, gaze tracking down over your torso before he seemed to remember himself and his eyes snapped back to your face. The finer scales around his beak and cheeks mottled, turning a more muted color, as blood rushed to his face. “You -ah, s’… nice-”

He snapped a hand up to his face like that might stop the train crash of words leaving his mouth, and you felt the first warm ember creep alive in your chest, that oily feeling lessening.

Silence, for a long moment, as you both considered each other. Sunlight streamed through the far window across the opened space beyond the bannister, backlighting the side of Raph’s shell and his face a golden color. Somewhere below, you could hear Donnie humming a song.

“I… liked the color.” You told him softly, finally, wrapping one arm around yourself and leaning against the door jam, breaking the stand off.

Raph made a low noise, muffled, behind the meat of his hand, and your gaze dropped in time to see his other fist clench tight before tracking back up the scutes covering his chest.

”You good?” You asked him with that same, quiet voice, feeling that beat of self consciousness grow the longer he stayed silent. Chancing another glance up at him, you found a deep look settling over his face, thoughts flashing like rapid fire hits as microexpressions twisted the features around his fist with an alarming rate.

’Yeah,” he finally breathed, hand dropping to clench at his side with the other. “Yea, m’fine. You uh- you ready, then?”

He still had that slightly hunted look, barely stepping to the side as you nodded slowly and moved past. Your elbow grazed the hard plating of his plastron as you stepped past him, and you heard him suck in a sharp breath at the sensation.

Goosebumps erupted down your spine as you felt him move to shadow your steps down the hall, but when you turned to look over your shoulder his gaze wasn’t on you, that still rather thoughtful scrunch between his eyes. “Your shirt?” You reminded him, gesturing back down the hall.

Narrowed green gaze considered you for a moment, not looking back towards the still lit bathroom. They tracked down your form for a moment, and you felt that kernel of warmth once more.

”Leave it… unless you need it?” The second part was intoned like a revelation, half turning like he’d go back for it.

Your hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. ‘No,” You squeezed, and felt the muscle ripple in response. ‘I don’t.”

[themissingnumbers]

HOW IT FEELS TO DISAPPEAR. (Part 1: DESCENT)

FLASHBACK: ABANDON LONLINESS.

A retelling of Abandon Lonliness in how it unfurled in Missing Numbers. This story will contain: Psychological Horror. Implied Animal Neglect. Animal Death. Implied Child Death. Unreality. You never belonged here.

EXPLANATION | FIRST | NEXT

........................................................................

YOU ARE A 12 YEAR OLD GIRL WITH LONG BROWN HAIR, AND HAZEL EYES THAT SEEM TO TOE THE LINE BETWEEN BROWN AND GREEN. AND YOU’VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER, PROUDLY HOLDING THE TITLE OF THE CHAMPION OF KANTO AS OF ONE WEEK AGO.

TODAY, YOU ARE WITH YOUR FRIEND, BLUE. A BOY WHO STARTED AS YOUR ENEMY, BUT BECAME YOUR FRIEND THROUGHOUT YOUR JOURNEY. YOU ARE GLAD YOU UNDERSTAND HIM. YOU ARE GLAD HE TRUSTS YOU.

YOU ARE KEEPING HIM COMPANY AS HE GRIEVES A LOST POKEMON.

...

Your mind keeps wandering to the Championship fight. You’ve been trying not to feel too guilty- you won fair and square, after all. Neither of you held back. And even though you could see the hurt in his eyes when you did, he only forced a smile and congratulated you, leaving before Professor Oak arrived. You’ve talked about it several times since then, but he always repeated that you deserved it more than him. 

It didn’t sit right with you, but you’ve been determined to ensure that this didn’t cause a rift between you two. You care so much about him, especially after he opened up… Even proving to you how he seemed to know just what to expect every step of the way- everything except for you.

Either way- you made a point to be a better friend to him than ever before. And if that means coming with him to this creepy, haunted graveyard, then… So be it! You’re not scared! No sir!

Being there for him matters more, anyways. 

Though it’s been pretty quiet… A part of you must have expected for such a loud boy to grieve more openly, but you suppose he’s always been more… Restrained in this place. More respectful. As for you, though, you’ve never lost a Pokemon… Not yet, anyways. So, maybe you just don’t understand. 

Still, you can’t help but feel a bit bored. You wouldn’t dream of doing anything disrespectful here, but your gaze does start to wander. You skim over the names on each headstone- loving nicknames of Pokemon since passed, usually settled over sentimental messages and last goodbyes, forever etched into stone.

But as you look around, you nearly jump out of your skin when you spot the movement of something small scampering away through the gaps of nearby graves. It takes a moment to soothe yourself enough to realize that it couldn’t have been a ghost… They don’t dwell on this floor of the Pokemon Tower, and this wasn’t the angry purples of a restless spirit, or a mischievous Ghastly or Haunter… You’re pretty sure that was… Brown?

Blue seems to have missed it, caught up in his own silent mourning.

[theswordmaiden]

𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬

Larissa Weems x f!reader

“Come on,” Larissa tried again. “Talk to me. Please.” There was a crack in her voice this time, a pleading sound that she no longer could suppress. She hated this—the way you disappeared into yourself more often lately, leaving her stranded on the outside, only to look in. Hated how powerless she felt, how no matter what she said or did, she was never able to reach you.

∙ CW / Mentions: hurt/comfort, feelings of worthlessness, mental health issues, low self-esteem, emotional distress? r! is stuck in a depressive state. Should be it?

∙ Word Count: 2.8k | ao3 link in title

The rain drummed relentlessly against the windows of your small apartment, and each droplet seemed to echo the dull, insistent throb that had settled in the back of your skull. It made the panes rattle against the warped wooden frames each time there was a strong gust of wind. Everything was too loud, too overwhelming to handle. The curtains were drawn tightly shut. It did little to block out the dim light that filtered through the edges, but it was enough to keep the room dark enough so that it didn’t hurt your eyes.

You hadn’t moved all day. Not really. You were too exhausted to get out of bed. It didn’t help that the sheets clung to your skin, damp with sweat despite the noticeable chill in the air. They kept you trapped in its embrace, limbs twisted in the blankets. Your body felt… foreign, leaden, as if gravity had doubled its hold on you and wanted to keep you there. You hadn’t even bothered to open your eyes properly yet; instead, you lay there with them half open and stared blankly at the ceiling when you were not sleeping the day away.

It had been weeks—no, months—of this slow, suffocating descent. It started with the little things. Forgetting to take the trash out to the curb, skipping a meal, or neglecting to give yourself water. But now? Now it was everything. The dishes were piled up in the sink, you hadn’t showered in days, and you couldn’t find the energy to do anything about it.

You were always prone to these little bouts—it was only natural, you tried to tell yourself for the hundredth time. Surely everyone had bad days, right? This wasn’t just a bad day, not anymore. It was a relentless string of days after days where you could do nothing but fall into something deeper than you could describe. And now it felt like you were being swallowed whole by it, consumed by something unyielding. You hadn’t really been awake. You just… existed somewhere in that liminal space between consciousness and oblivion, where time lost its grip on you, and the sharpness of your surroundings softened and blurred.

Your chest tightened as that familiar hollowness settled in again—that little ache that wasn’t quite pain but wasn’t simply nothing either. It sat there trapped between your ribcage, heavy and unmovable as if you were dense stone.

Too lost in your spiraling thoughts, you hadn’t heard the front door open or Larissa’s voice as she softly called out to you. She had decided to take some time off of work to dedicate her time solely to you—which you would have known if you had ever bothered to check your phone earlier when she first texted you that she was coming over. Footsteps muted by stockings padded across the house, shuffling around in the kitchen.

You hadn’t noticed her approach your bedroom door, either, her figure framed by the faint glow of the bedside lamp. The dim yellow hue cast shadows across her features, accentuating the tension etched across them. Her brows pulled together as she frowned; the crease between them carved by worry, deep and persistent, as though it had taken a permanent residence.

From where she stood, Larissa could vaguely make out the outline of your body beneath the heavy blankets, tucked securely away from both her and the world. Her eyes followed the gentle slope of what she assumed was your shoulder, yet even that seemed defeated like the rest of you.

“Hi, my darling,” she uttered softly, her voice low to avoid startling you. The floorboards creaked as she slowly stepped into the room, and she cradled a mug between her fingers. Larissa sat on the edge of the bed beside you, a careful distance away. “How are you feeling? I made tea. I thought it might help with your migraine.”

The only response was the subtle rise and fall of the blankets—so slow and shallow that it seemed like even the act of breathing was too laboring for you, another unbearable weight that pressed you deeper into the mattress. Larissa’s fingers twitched as if she had to resist the urge to reach out and yank back the covers, to shake you from whatever dark place had wrapped its claws around you this time.

Her sigh broke the fragile silence, the sound heavy with helplessness. Larissa placed the warm mug on the nightstand before she ran a hand through her hair. She was a patient woman, far more than you thought you deserved, but it wasn’t enough for her. Not when her gaze flicked toward the blankets again to make sure you were still breathing. Not when every fiber of her being screamed at her to do something, anything, to pull you back from this funk you were in.

“Come on,” Larissa tried again. “Talk to me. Please.” There was a crack in her voice this time, a pleading sound that she no longer could suppress. She hated this—the way you disappeared into yourself more often lately, leaving her stranded on the outside, only to look in. Hated how powerless she felt, how no matter what she said or did, she was never able to reach you.

“I know you’re hurting, my love… But shutting me out like this won’t make it go away. I can’t help if you won’t let me in. . . You don’t have to say anything, just… can you at least let me see you? Just for a second?”

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, Larissa thought she might have pushed too hard, said too much. Then came the shuffled movements from beneath the blankets. Slowly, cautiously, you tugged the fabric down just enough for your face to emerge. You looked so fragile—your eyes red and swollen, cheeks streaked with tears that dribbled down to your chin as it wobbled. 

“There you are, my sweet girl,” Larissa murmured, and her heart broke at the sight of you like this. A tender smile broke across her features—the kind only ever designated for you, the one that made her nose scrunch and her eyes crinkle in that familiar way that spoke of her love for you—despite the tears that welled in her eyes. She resisted the urge to reach out and cup your face, afraid it might startle you back into hiding.

Oh, but the gentleness of her voice, the tenderness in her eyes, and the genuine relief that settled over her once she saw you was enough to break something deep inside of you… It was too much and not enough all at once. A broken sob clawed its way up from your throat before you could stop it, and suddenly, the tears were spilling over your cheeks, hot and relentless. The sound of your cries tugged at her heartstrings terribly.

Larissa’s expression softened further when she saw the first sign of tears, now melted into something more tender and warm. “Come here, sweetheart…” She reached out to coax you closer, to welcome you in the comforting space between her shoulders. The distance between you dissolved in an instant as you leaned forward, and Larissa encircled her arms around you snugly to bring you closer to her chest. “I’ve got you. Let it out.”

The warmth of her body against your own was so comforting, and God, you needed this—needed her. Her embrace was firm but not suffocating, as if she knew exactly how much pressure you needed as she held you together like you were about to unravel on her entirely. Larissa didn’t mind when you buried your face deeper into the hollow of her neck or when your tears soaked into the collar of her dress. She didn’t mind when your sobs turned ragged and uneven, when your apologies poured out in broken words between hiccuped breaths.

No, she only pulled you closer, ran her fingers through your disheveled hair, and softly cooed against the outer shell of your ear until you settled down.

You sobbed against her chest until nothing more could come out and your chest no longer heaved with each breath. The palms against your back gently soothed you back down to reality, where your heartbeat finally began to settle. Larissa felt so gentle, so caring and loving.

When you inhaled deeply to try and grasp ahold of yourself, you were overcome by her familiar scent. It filled your lungs so heavenly, made you float off into the stars and bury your nose deeper against her skin. She smelt of jasmine, vanilla, and something so uniquely and intoxicatingly hers that made your head spin. It grounded you, reminded you that you were home within her arms.

“No more apologies, darling.” Larissa’s thumb came up to brush away a stray tear from your cheek as she coaxed your chin upward with gentle insistence. “Look at me and listen.”

Slowly, reluctantly, as if you feared to see disappointment lingering in her eyes, you lifted your gaze until it met hers. 

“You don’t have to be sorry for feeling this way,” Larissa said firmly. “You’re allowed to cry. You know I’d never be upset with you for something like that.” The back of her knuckles traced against your cheekbone as she spoke, and she smiled as you leaned into her touch. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed and shut everything out for a while, just… not forever.”

She leaned in to press a kiss against your temple, her breath warm against your skin. “Don’t shut me out. Please. You’re not a burden to me; you never have been. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I don’t want to ever find out.”

Again, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and your throat tightened at her words—too many emotions at once poured into you that it was difficult to grasp. It wasn’t just despair; no, there was something else. Relief, perhaps, or maybe gratitude. You opened your mouth to respond but faltered, unsure of how to put everything you felt into words. Instead, what came out was meek and riddled with self-doubt.

“I don’t know why you continue to put up with me… why you don’t just give up and stop trying,” you admitted under your breath, your gaze lowering as shame crept up your spine. You were too much to handle, and you began to convince yourself that Larissa would be better off without you… “I don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore. I can’t figure out how to fix it. I don’t even know why I’m… why I’m still here.”

Your words were thick with guilt, that familiar, suffocating weight you slowly became accustomed to. Guilt for being like this, for dragging Larissa down with you, for being a burden, for being a waste of space…

Larissa’s brows knitted together in an expression that was somewhere between frustration and heartbreak—not at you, but at whatever had planted such thoughts into your head. She reached out and cupped your face between both hands, keeping you from looking away from her even if you tried.

“How could I ever give up on the person who means so much to me? I would not abandon you. Not now, not ever,” she spoke firmly, hurt laced into her words at the mere implication that she would leave you over something like this. There was no anger in her tone, just an aching kind of love that she wished you could see so that you’d know her heart is forever intertwined with yours. “Would I still be here if I didn’t want to be? If I didn’t care about you, even when you’re like this? My love for you is not conditional—it does not ebb and flow when you lose yourself.”

Her thumbs moved slowly as she brushed away the fresh set of tears that had spilled over your round cheeks, as if she wasn’t just trying to remove the dampness from your skin but also the guilt that accompanied them. Larissa’s fingers trembled slightly, betraying her own emotions. But she had to put on a brave face for you.

She tilted her head, and her eyes searched yours. “Do you understand me?” Larissa’s voice was soft yet firm as she tried to get through to you. “I am not here because I feel obligated to be. I’m here because I want to be. Because I love you. I will only ever choose you every single day, in every lifetime that we are together.”

You wanted to believe her words; you really tried to. A part of you did, somewhere deep down, yet the ache in your chest refused to relent. It gnawed at your conscience, and you hated yourself for siding with your thoughts instead of your lover. You tried to laugh, but it came out weak and hollow.

“I’m such a mess though, Larissa,” you rasped. The words felt jagged as they rolled off of your tongue, as if admitting them aloud would make them more real. Your eyes searched hers desperately, looking for something, anything, that would settle the brewing thoughts inside of you. Instead, more guilt festered in your chest for doubting her, for not being able to accept her love as easily as she gave it. “I’m not the person I was when we first got together, and I hate it. I’m just… broken, and I don’t know how to go back to the way things once were.”

It felt like the truth of your words, so raw and unfiltered, might crush you entirely. You hoped the floor would open and swallow you whole. At least then you could wallow in self-pity without having to drag Larissa down with you.

But Larissa’s gaze did not waver. It never did when it came to you.

“You are not broken,” she said firmly, her brows furrowed together as she took in the sight of your defeated face. “You’re trying to heal, and healing takes time—time that you have to first allow yourself to take and accept where you are right now. I’m here with you, always.” “But I don’t deserve this… don’t deserve you. You’re too kind, and. . and considerate, but I’m not getting any better, it’s just getting worse and—”

“You deserve this,” Larissa interjected softly. She didn’t want you to start spiraling again; that wouldn’t do either of you any good right now. Her thumbs soothed along your jawline, then trailed lower until she held your shoulders. “You deserve this and so much more than what you’ve allowed yourself to believe. You deserve to be loved and tended to, deserve to have someone hold you while you cry, deserve to be shown the same kindness that you so freely offer everyone else…”

The genuine sincerity in her tone sent a fresh surge of emotions through you. You tried to speak, to argue and deflect her words more, yet nothing came out. Your throat tightened painfully as tears blurred your vision, and all you could manage to let out was a pathetic whine of her name.

Larissa’s hands slipped away from you only so she could wrap her arms around you once more. She pulled you into her chest with a kind of determination that left no more room for doubt. Her hand found the back of your head, and she guided it to rest against her chest.

“Until you're able to see that for yourself,” she mumbled against the top of your head, her lips soft as they brushed against your hair, “I’ll spend the rest of our time together reminding you, my darling girl…”

You closed your eyes tightly as you tried to fight off the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you again, and you let yourself sink fully into her embrace. Her hand began to trace slow circles on your back while she whispered how much she loved you against your hairline. 

It wasn’t as if Larissa and her love was a cure. She was, unfortunately, not some sort of sudden, miraculous miracle drug to aid you in your recovery. The rain still drummed against the window, the darkness still surrounded the room, and the uncomfortable weight in your chest was still there. Perhaps it would always be there, in the back of your mind, always nagging in your ear. But something had shifted. You still felt weighed down, yes, but it wasn’t as unbearable as before. As though her words were like a seed, something fragile, meant to nurture, that had been planted in the cracks where your self-doubt had taken root. And maybe that would be enough for now.

—

A/N: This isn't something I'd typically do, much less share, so I know this is probably the weakest piece I've done and won't be liked all that much from those who prefer nsfw. But that's alright. I wrote it in a single sitting while crying off and on, so bear with me if there are any errors lol — I have no one to beta my work these days.

I feel pretty shameful for my feelings, and this just happened to be the next best outlet to somehow deal with them. I did not sleep last night, so I'm also very sleep-deprived at the moment. Whoops. The next piece I post won't be like this nonsense, don't worry.

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part1. my new roommate

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: you`ve got a new roommate as you moved for uni, you are trying to built a descent relationship with her but she is stubborn. the main problem is that she makes you really nervous.

・❥・ genre: grumpy x sunshine

・❥・ word count: 2k

✎ warnings: drug use (weed), smoking, swearing

RIDE ON ME masterlist

after moving to another city for university, you found out that there was no room in the dormitory and you were put on the waiting list. the dormitory staff reported that the approximate waiting time for a place in a room is about 2-3 months. unfortunately, you weren't accepted to the university right away due to problems with documents, so booking a bed beforehand didn't make any sense, because you could be refused by university at any time.

however, everything has its advantages, living in your own apartment provided those: you cannot worry about the curfew, your things will not suddenly disappear, smoking was not prohibited, although you tried to rid yourself of this disgusting habit - periodic slips were not an exception, unfortunately.

that's why you decided to find a place to stay a week before the train to the new city. either housing on the outskirts of the city, which would entail an hour and a half to get to the university or renting for two – that’s your options that would fit your budget. so, the neighbor it is. you tried to reassure yourself that this is also better than a dormitory, in your case you could at least choose a roommate...

after several days of searching, you came across an ad in which it was stated that a 23-year-old female is looking for a roommate, the apartment has 2 bedrooms and a kitchen, there are appliances, shared utilities. according to the map, it was only 20 minutes away from the university. isn't that great? you immediately responded to the ad and a girl named Vi gave you all the necessary details. if you only knew how much she would change your life.

--------------------------------------------------------

"I'll be there in 15 minutes. see you later" - you sent a text to your future roommate, exhaling from tension, you were nervous before meeting her. she wasn't very chatty on text, you didn't even see her pic, if it wasn't for the verified website, you'd think you were walking into a trap for some pervert.

"no, no, come on, she's probably just very quiet, it`s even for the better, you won`t disturb each other" - you thought to yourself - "no need to make myself nervous, this is a new step in my life and I'm sure that everything will be great"

after you arrived at the station of a new city, your phone vibrated. this is a text from Vi - "ok".

“are the letters expensive or something?” - you said, pushing your suitcase, the poor thing's wheels came apart from the load of the amount of your things.

indeed, exactly 15 minutes later, you were standing at the door of your new apartment, but you could feel an unpleasant excitement throughout your body. you were so tense that the air could be cut around you, exhaling slowly, you mumbled under your breath

“hello Vi, I'm your new neighbor, it's nice to finally meet you in person”, “hello Vi, I'm your new neighbor..”. "enough, why am I nervous at all, it's not that we're going to actually live together, I might not even see her, all day at university, after that I have a job to find, she's just the girl in the next room"

after another minute of self-soothing speech, you finally knocked.

“it`s open” - a voice from inside, somewhat breathless, you noticed. you entered the apartment, from the threshold you smelled the mixture of sweat and weed, this aroma was so unexpected that you thought for a second about whether you had come in the right place. a moment later a muscular figure appeared in front of you, a rather stocky girl with short pink hair was looking at you, she was a little sweaty, her hands were tied with bandages that go under boxing gloves. it's not at all what you expected...

“are you going to keep staring or will you finally come in?” - the girl turned to you a little annoyed

“yes, yes.. hello, Vi, I'm your new neighbor, it's nice to finally...” - you started to say the already prepared phrase with a strained smile, but you were immediately interrupted.

“I know who you are, come in and close the door behind you”

rude.

“follow me, I'll show you your room and the kitchen," - Vi said and immediately went to the left of the exit. out of anticipation, you didn't even take off your outer clothes, but immediately ran after her. the tour took only 30 seconds, you realized that you definitely won't communicate more than you did by text.

“thank you, and your room is on the right of the exit then?” - you asked, trying to keep the same tight smile on your face.

Vi's eyebrow arched – “well, obviously, I see you are smart” - she threw the phrase with painful sarcasm. - "any other questions or can I go now?"

“no, that's all, thanks...” you answered slowly as your smile faded from your face.

“I'll be in my room, if the music disturbs you - knock twice” - you just managed to nod in response. left alone in the middle of your empty room, you felt that you would definitely not become friends.

after such a "warm reception" you decided to start unpacking, before that you cleaned the entire room and the toilet. Vi's music was really playing loudly the whole time, but somehow the thought of making a remark about it scared you a little. after an hour of unpacking, you finally looked around your room.

“very cozy, a few string lights, posters and it will be just like at home” - you were very proud of what you did, but your thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling in your stomach. no one canceled dinner, that's when you had a brilliant idea. even though Vi is not very friendly at first glance, you decided to follow your grandmother's advice - good food always brings people together. after a quick trip to the store, you came home with all the ingredients for pasta carbonara.

"an Italian dinner in less than half an hour is perfect." when all the ingredients were ready - you started cooking, until suddenly you felt this scent again... weed, so it`s treu then, she does smoke in the apartment, this was not in the ad. not that it really bothers you, but actually you just wish you did too.

half an hour later, everything was ready, you found the dishes and necessary utensils, prepared everything for two and went to Vi's door. your palms were a little sweaty from nervousness, for some reason before every thought that there would be even minimal communication with Vi – you were nervous. you stopped in front of the door and as soon as you thought to knock, for some reason you started to worry even more. you started to rub your hands together and shuffle a little, when all of a sudden, the music in the room stopped.

“do you understand that I see you standing outside my room?” - Vi's voice in almost half a tone sounded from the door.

"fuck, there is a gap under the door. this is so embarrassing" - you flinched

“yes, um, sorry, I didn't want to distract from... what whatever you are doing there... well, I prepared dinner... for the two of us. yes. and I would be very happy if you would join me” - you said with a smile, as if she could see you.

the pause of a few seconds seemed like an eternity as the door opened in front of your face and Vi's figure appeared in front of you close enough that you could feel her smell.

“why?” - this question confused you a little.

“well, I want to get to know you, I already understood that we will not communicate closely, but we will still share this apartment, so I think that this time will be useful for us” - you said with your head raised, you wanted to look confident, even though everything was trembling inside you.

unexpectedly for you, Vi smiled a little to herself. just now you noticed what a beautiful face she has, thick eyebrows, little tattoo, deep eyes and an attractive smile, her lips were like... "hey, enough, what am I thinking?" - you stopped yourself.

“ok”

“what?” - you returned to reality.

“dinner. ok. I'll be there in two minutes” - Vi closed the door in front of your face again.

"everything went well... I think..." - you began to reassure yourself, because at least she did agree.

exactly two minutes later Vi came to the kitchen, since there was no table for some reason, you sat down with a plate on the soft sofa in front of the TV. your roommate slowly walked over to the stove that had the food on it, while she was putting food for herself, you got a chance to get a closer look at her. she has a tattoo, it was very hot, the whole back was very well painted, Vi herself was wearing a white tank top that allowed you to admire her muscles a little better. you watched her muscles move depending on what she was doing, how her rather large hands handled the kitchen a little awkwardly. you smiled at this fact, and began to stare at her hands more carefully. they were so big, you started to wonder how they would feel on your body...

“like what you see?” - Vi smirked.

you snap back to reality, this is the third time in a day you're staring, what's going on?

“yes... NO! I mean, yes, but…” - you blushed - “I'm just thinking about what kind of sport you do” – "great, and who is the possible pervert here now?"

Vi smiled again - “boxing, there is a punching bag in my room” - she liked the reaction she made on you.

at dinner you spoke little, but you spoke, it`s a beginning. she didn't tell much, she mainly asked where you came from, what university you're going to and what major.

“international relations, ha. why am I not surprised?" Vi laughed. her laugh was also attractive, just great, you were already nervous around her, now that is added to your list.

“what is this supposed to mean? why are you laughing?” - you asked in surprise.

“your approaches to people and the way you communicate are very... diplomatic,” - Vi admitted.

“thanks, I think...”

after Vi finished her portion, she was about to leave, when you called her – “and what about dessert?”

“I'm already full, but thank you” - "that smile again, why does it affect me so much" - you thought.

you went to the fridge and took a cupcake, then handed it to Vi, hoping she wouldn't notice how you blushed – “maybe you'll want something sweet at night” - you said with a smile, looking into her eyes.

“yes” - Vi looked at you with that smirk again  – “I might want to”

she took the dessert from your hands, your fingers touched each other for a few seconds, you felt as if you were electrocuted. how can a person you saw for the first time in your life evoke so many feelings? after a short silence, you decided that you should go to bed earlier, because tomorrow is an important day.

“okay, I'm glad you liked dinner, I'll clean up and go to bed, I have to go to university tomorrow, so if possible, don't turn on the music loudly” - you took your eyes off Vi.

“fine. good night, cupcake” - Vi's eyes looked at you with a smile and went to her room, closing the door behind her.

“cupcake?”

[moonydustx]

How does it end?

info: yes, we have reached the end of this story! obscenity, of course. Presence of a slightly toxic ex. Sweet boy (and jealous) Law.

italicized text blocks are flashback

MDNI | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART 01 - PART 02 - PART 03 - PART 04 (you're here)

"Do you intend to stay alone there for long?" Your captain's voice caught your attention, dragging you out of a book. "Everyone's going to drink. I think we deserve a celebration."

"I'm right here, captain."

"I insist." He held out his hand, lifting you from the cold floor of the submarine. "I can tell you the end of the book while we drink."

The vivid memory still made you laugh a little. That night, Law not only told you the story of that book, but also the sequel to them, and even so, you read them one by one. At that time, you were still just captain and subordinate. It seemed like something very distant.

You never imagined that you would spend nights stuck in his room, feeling on the edge of precipices full of pleasure. You couldn't imagine that your favorite place to sleep would be one, in your captain's bed, two, in his arms when he refused to go to bed in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, some nights this was impossible, which meant spending a few hours a day in his office, even if it was just to work together and do nothing else.

Your right ear was ringing with the explosion near you, an annoyance that nauseated you and made you dizzy. Who would have thought you would fall into an ambush? Before you could gather the strength to stand up, your feet left the ground and you felt yourself being thrown against someone's shoulders, someone who wasn't wearing the same uniform as you. It was impossible to see the person's face, so you could only pray that they were taking you to a safe place.

The beaten earth floor that you saw below you soon turned into simpler footsteps and cracks against a metal ramp. Trying to stand up, you noticed that you didn't have that much strength and that you could see the symbol of your crew against the yellow wall. You were home.

The sounds were still muffled when you were placed back on your feet.

"You?" Your voice was exasperated as soon as you noticed who had carried you into your submarine.

It wasn't that you hated him or held a grudge against him. But the last thing you expected was to be saved by your dear (not so much) ex-boyfriend. Teru still looked the same as when you broke up and he left the crew, the only thing that had changed about him was his normal civilian clothes.

"Let's disappear from their radar. Everyone at your posts now!" Law's voice sounded too loud for you, forcing you to hide your own head between your arms.

"Captain, I need to talk to you."

"Later." Law's voice sounded even lower as you felt his hands gently rest on your arms. "I'm going to take you to the infirmary."

You expected him to guide you to the place and not transport you with his powers. As soon as the environment transformed into the small white room, you felt one of his hands hold you by the waist and the other lean on one of the walls.

"It's going to be a difficult descent, I'd rather not take any risks."

As soon as the submarine stabilized and you were far enough away from the reach of enemies, Law guided you to the nearest bench, lifting you up and sitting on it without any effort. Quietly, you watched him walk back and forth gathering what he needed. You could tell he was too quiet. The first touch near your ear made you flinch.

"Sorry babe, this is going to bother you a little." He simply said, focused on cleaning the injured area.

He spent a few more minutes cleaning and medicating the area in complete silence. As soon as he finished the area around your ear, he started treating the few wounds spread across your face.

"Is there any salvation for my case? I mean, you didn't say anything."

"Your eardrum is a little damaged, it'll be fine in a few days. Some shrapnel caused the whole problem, so it's pretty easy to heal." he explained in an almost professorial tone.

"Are you sure? You're all tense."

"Do you want the honest answer?" he asked and laughed when he saw your eyes widen in fright. "I'm kidding."

"Still, I can see that something is bothering you."

The hands that were caring for your face went down, contouring your body and resting around you as a sigh that bordered on frustration escaped him.

"I don't know how comfortable I am with seeing you on the shoulders of a man with blood all over your head." he finished, seeing you blink a few times and nod. "Now I'm relieved that it was just that."

"Well, we have to consider that the man who brought me was Teru."

"I couldn't care less about that." Law's professional demeanor slowly faded, allowing him to fit between your legs.

"So I'm discharged?" the tone of your voice along with your fingers trailing a dangerous path up his shirt, towards the back of Law's neck. "I could really use some other treatments."

"You make things a little more difficult." Even if out of the corner of his eye, he followed your nimble fingers and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. "Very difficult."

"I think there's too much adrenaline in my body." The last words came out as a whisper from your lips before you stole his for yourself.

Occupying the little space that still existed between the two of you, Law pulled your thighs in order to fit between your legs while he felt the taste of your tongue against his. Your nails had already found his tattooed abdomen and slid as if you knew every inch of his skin. A path that was becoming increasingly familiar.

"Captain?" Teru's voice caught the attention of both of you, forcing you to move away just enough for Law to be able to answer.

"What do you need?"

"Can I talk to you?" Law's eyes met yours and for a brief moment they seemed to ask permission for him to leave you there and solve whatever problem awaited him. Seeing you nod, Law completely disconnected himself from your body.

"Meet me in my office, I'll be there in a few minutes." the captain replied and took the silence on the other side of the door as an agreement.

"Work calls you." As much as you tried to avoid it, the discouraged tone remained in your voice, which earned a simple smile from the man in front of you.

"Before I go…" Law approached again, this time with no other intention than conversation. "I have a feeling he's going to ask for something and since we're en route, it's going to be very difficult to return to the surface now."

"So we're stuck here with Teru?"

"Is that a problem? I know you broke up amicably, but I don't think it's right to let him stay here without at least asking what you prefer."

"I'd be lying if I said I think it's the most amazing thing in the world to have my ex back here, but he saved me, I think it's the least I owe him."

You explained and saw him nod, processing the words into something that only his head could understand. Law considered walking away for a few seconds, but the doubt that plagued his mind would never allow it.

"Do you still feel something for him?"

"For Teru? I believe that, besides being grateful for his help today, nothing more than that." When you noticed Law's vacant gaze, you didn't hesitate to turn his face towards you. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing you should worry." He said in a gentle tone. His lips quickly found the top of your head. "Now go rest."

"But I…"

"Captain's orders." He mumbled with an almost cretinous smile drawn on his lips. "If you behave, maybe you can include a few more things in your rest."

Well, resting wasn't exactly the easiest thing. The injury had been minor and as much as you took Law's considerations into account, something told you deeper down that it was an exaggeration of concern. However, from that moment on, some things started to get strange.

Immediately, it seemed like all eyes were on you. You wondered if they had seen, heard or suspected something about you and Law, but it seemed unlikely. Even more so when Ikkaku pulled you by the arm.

"So… Teru?" she whispered as if you weren't alone there. "Don't tell me you're back together."

"Are you crazy? Never!" the idea would never, ever cross your mind. Even if you were single. Well, technically… "He just happened to be in the right place and time."

"And what happened, were you hurt badly?"

"No, the captain said it was just some shrapnel." You preferred to avoid the more detailed explanation that Law had given. The truth is that the little incomplete session between the two of you had taken up a good part of your memories.

"Hey, I found you!" your ex-boyfriend's voice filled the entire room, with a joy that sounded shrill to your still sore ears.

"I'll leave you two alone." Ikkaku blinked and walked away with a gentle smile towards his former crewmate.

"So, how can I help you?" Your solicitous voice hid your laziness. Honestly, it wasn't like you wanted to avoid him, but you would certainly trade those minutes there for a few more lying in your bed. Maybe with someone else.

"You're still here under Law's orders." He said, trying to bring up a subject that was still unclear to you.

"Of course, it was never in my plans to leave. And you, how has your exploration been?"

Exploring. Ah, the dear excuse for exploring. When Teru decided to leave the crew, he wanted to take you with him. "A great adventure awaits us." But you weren't interested, not at all. In a way, it was as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

"Teru will leave us tomorrow morning." Law leaned against the doorframe, analyzing your figure sitting on the bed. "Have you made your decision?"

"Of course, I never really had any doubts."

"Then why can I see your red eyes from here?" He walked over, leaning on the edge of the bunk. "Do you need me to fix something before he leaves?"

"Fix something?"

"You know, in case he messed up everything." Law explained as if it were obvious, seeing you immediately deny it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Captain. Unless he wants you to solve something for him before you go. Then we'd have a problem." You tried to sound more humorous, smiling slightly when you saw the same trace appear on Law's lips.

"Nah."

"Now you take sides?" Your voice came out intoxicated by a light laugh. "That's surprising."

"I mean, you've been here since when Sachi and Penguin couldn't decide on a menu or when my voice wavered much more than my mood." He himself laughed at the realization. "I mean, there are no sides to be taken." He emphasized the plural.

"He and I don't want the same things. I think it's been a while." You simply answered.

"That relieves me. You know, not having to put up with Ikakku burning panties or Bepo devouring everything in the submarine as a form of protest to defend you." he commented still humorously, but his smile quickly disappeared. "Promise you're okay?"

"Yes, Captain."

For a while you lost yourself in the memory, knowing that it had been so long since Teru had left there and things seemed to improve exponentially.

He wasn't bad or that typical evil guy from the books, he just wasn't the right one for you and that was okay.

"And you, after we broke up, did you meet anyone?" the direct question dragged you back to reality, even though you had ignored the entire summary he had given about his last years.

"Yes, I did." you limited yourself to answering. Theoretically, the person you met you already knew, but those were extremely different circumstances.

"Is he here?"

"Can we not talk about it?" you asked and saw him look suspicious. You didn't want to let this conversation go on long enough for a piece of information to be revealed. important thing escaped. "I believe the captain gave you some tasks, I highly doubt he would leave you idly by."

"Of course! Actually, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. He asked me to accompany you during these days."

Law asked Teru to accompany you? That didn't make any sense. Could that be why he had asked if you still had feelings for your ex? No, that wasn't like him. But after the chaotic morning and the flurry of events, you chose not to question Law. Before you were… (again that question in the depths of your subconscious screamed, questioning what you were)… you were captain and subordinate.

These should have been peaceful days. They should have.

You didn't expect that by accompanying you, Teru would practically become your shadow. Lunches, dinners, absolutely all of your free time, the man seemed to occupy every available gap of air that you had. In the distance, beyond the not-so-warm jokes of your friends, you could see a pair of curious eyes. But you had known him long enough to know that there was nothing curious about that.

What used to be an arm's length away seemed like miles and miles. Law seemed to be looking further and further away, and with Teru at your feet, it was almost impossible to find him alone. This forced you to drag him towards the first bathroom you saw, not caring that it was occupied - thank whatever god that could exist, it was emptier than your brain had been in the last few days.

"Why are you avoiding me?" the question came out harshly from your lips, and with Law looking you up and down, it didn't make you any more comfortable.

"I don't want to take up your precious time…" the sentence seemed to die there. "With Teru." except that the last words came out full of venom.

"Law, you misunderstood."

"No, I didn't misunderstood." He had to control himself and stop acting like a bratty child. But it was impossible. Since when was it so painful to see you interacting with someone else? "I understand that maybe the distance between you two made you rethink something, I understand that…"

"Law, look at me." You tried to reach his chin, but insistent knocks on the door stole your attention.

"Hey, are you there?" Teru calling your name, what a surprise! "I need your help."

"You can go." Law murmured, nodding in the direction of the path.

A few more days, a few more days and this whole deception would be over. Maybe you would sit with Law and finally open your heart and let out all the thousand questions you had. Inside you, there was the fear that he didn't have any of the answers.

The answers lost their importance on one of the nights when a weight settled on top of you. As soon as your eyes opened and met Teru's, you saw your life fly like an arrow between your eyes. That was crossing all limits, absolutely all.

Without needing to hold back, you threw him out of bed and flew at him, your hands reaching for his neck. However, his hands raised as if he were surrendering.

"Calm down, calm down." he asked, trying to get away. "I didn't do anything, I wasn't going to do anything. I just wanted to wake you up."

"And this is how you do shit like this?" you yelled, getting off of him. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"I just wanted to take advantage of the fact that you're alone here and talk." Your trembling hands slid through your hair, trying in vain to gather some calm. "I realized that I still love you and after all this time. Aren't you tired of this, of this life? I can give you something better if you give me a chance."

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, ferocity and indignation drawn on the expression illuminated by a small lamp that you barely know how you turned on.

"Get out of here." Your rational side spoke louder. Your colleagues who occupied the other dorms didn't deserve to have to hear you freak out.

"I believe…"

"Teru, I'm trying to be rational here so please leave. Don't wait for me to decide to be irrational, beat you up and throw you out to sea. We both know in a fight like this who would win."

The man still had the nerve to give you a hurt look, as if you were the crazy one in the whole story. That night, you didn't sleep anymore. Nor the next two.

Teru continued to be inconvenient, the others, unaware of everything you had been through, continued to laugh. Law continued to become more reclusive. Apparently the hurricane of things was limited to your brain.

Three days of stolen shifts, after all, if you were busy working you could find excuses to avoid Teru. Three days without sleep, with only light meals and a more than questionable amount of caffeine in your body.

The room was full, a dinner almost in a celebratory tone for the farewell of a long-time friend. Coincidentally, it meant that your martyrdom was coming to an end the next day.

Your colleagues - and the enemy in question - chatted animatedly around you. The fish on your plate had already swum more than it should have swum when it was still alive. You were exhausted. It was just another day dawning…

"I mean, I can stay a few more days…" Teru's voice stood out, as he flicked your plate, catching your attention. "I just need the right chance."

The jocular tone, the false humor surrounded by a promise that was taking away your peace. It was as if the entire Polar Tang or all the seas decided to go silent at the same time. Maybe your exhaustion didn't allow you to notice that your voice had escalated many, many decibels. Your hands slammed hard against the cafeteria table, silencing everyone around and forcing the man in front of you to retreat.

"Shut the hell up." you shouted, not caring about the higher scales your voice reached. "Shut up! I'm tired, exhausted! I don't want to go back to you, I don't want to give you any more fucking chances. I want to be able to go to my room or at least eat in peace." The dark circles under your eyes and tired expression even indicated that you were exhausted, but everyone knew that you had lost your limits by letting yourself go like that. "It's your fault that I'm in this state, the man I love barely looks at me and I haven't slept for days! I don't want to hear your excuses, I don't want you to grab me or invade my room in the middle of the night. I'm tired of trying to be even the slightest bit polite, that's enough. I don't want to know about you!" After saying each word slowly, you noticed the scandalous silence around you. Damn, you had put on quite a show.

Leaving Teru, your plate and the curious looks aside, you left the room, looking for the first place you could hide and try to think about what you had said. And you had said too much. Back in the Polar Tang cafeteria, curious looks alternated between looking at Teru and where you were.

At one end of the room, a pair of attentive eyes followed you, while each drop of blood seemed to heat up.

"I hadn't noticed." Law heard someone say, in a low tone.

"I thought he was a good person." Another comment hit him.

He didn't want - in fact, he couldn't - think about anything else after the avalanche of information. As his mind permeated with the man I love that came out of your lips, he couldn't deny that he was seeing red in front of him. There was no anger - in fact, he knew very well that that wasn't the feeling he had for you - that would stop him from wanting to protect you at that moment.

"I need to go…" Teru began, ready to follow you. "I need to apologize to her and…"

"Move and you'll be dead." Law's voice came out in an almost monotonous tone, like someone listing some items to buy for the next trip to the market. For those who knew him, they knew that it was almost the same as a death sentence.

With one last look in Teru's direction, the captain of the Heart Pirates decided to follow you. He knew that by the surprised and furious expressions he saw around the room, Teru wouldn't be able to leave so easily.

Finding you was easy. The door to one of the rooms was open and you were circling around nervously.

and from one end to the other even though there wasn't much space for your hasty steps to go around. Law closed the door behind him and that was enough to pull you out of that trance. The two of you remained still for a few seconds, just contemplating each other's existence. It had been days since you had barely been close, let alone locked in the same room.

"Forgive me." He began, intertwining his fingers and trying not to appear as nervous as he was.

"About what? The one who made a scene now was me."

"For not realizing that so much wrong was happening beneath my ignorance." He took a small step towards you. Looking at him was like approaching a small, defenseless puppy, shy and tired eyes looking at him. "I was blind."

"You were busy." Your trembling voice was almost the same as having a thousand daggers cutting him.

"I should never be when it comes to you. But the fact is, I was blinded by silly jealousy." He confessed and released all the air he barely knew he was holding as soon as his hands reached the sides of your arms. "Tell me what I can do for you."

"I think after this, there's not much else to do, right?" You tried to give your best smile. "I think I just want to get some sleep, that's all. Try to clear up all this mess."

"Do you mind explaining to me better what he did to you?" Law saw you lower your head trying to avoid the question. "If you prefer, we can treat this as captain and subordinate, you fill out some things, everything formalized."

"Because I have a feeling I have more than one option."

"Either you tell me here or in my room, not to me as your captain, but as someone who really cares about you, someone who…" He paused, trying not to pressure you or corner you even more. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

"I have this feeling that either choice will result in him being kicked out of here."

"That's up to you." That came out of his lips, while his mind was hoping that you would decide to let him torture Teru in the worst possible ways.

"You're the captain here."

Law took off the hat he was wearing and placed it on your head, carefully adjusting it under your messy hair.

"I'm temporarily naming you captain. I could get some tattoos or find a cooler outfit, but that's going to take a while." He smiled as he heard a light laugh echo from you. "You decide what to do with him. I'll do it, you don't have to deal with this problem anymore."

"Let's just let him go, please. He made a mistake, I know, but I want this to just end, without too much drama." You suggested and saw him close his smile immediately. "Is there a problem?"

"I thought it would be something more like please cut him into a thousand pieces or please beat him up." He tried to imitate it poorly and realized that you weren't joking. "Consider it done."

"Law?" your hands brought him even closer to you and it wasn't like you needed to bring into the world what you wanted.

Before he even reached your lips, Law allowed his face to slide along the side of your neck as he pressed himself against your body. Something exquisite like feeling you there, something possessive like marking you as his.

Only then did his lips capture yours in a way that seemed calm but the more he stole your mouth to his you noticed even more urgency, more repressed desire after the long week apart. He tried to move away just enough for the two of you to catch a few seconds of air to remember that you were in the middle of some random room at Polar Tang and that there was an entire crew waiting for the man to reappear and make a definitive decision.

"I need to go." He murmured even though he didn't want to. There was a strange feeling of belonging every time his arms were intertwined with your body. "I need to tell everyone…" he made a move to walk away but was stopped by your hands.

"We can't leave it for later, it's just… I missed you." you confessed and he nodded, as if he was savoring the words that came out of you.

"I'm sorry, but no." he genuinely seemed disappointed. "I missed you, but I think I need to go there, take sides."

"And then?"

"Then you'll accompany me to my room, more precisely to my bed…"

"Law." your voice sounded like a warning and ignoring what you were saying, he pressed his body against yours, however you couldn't feel any malice in that.

"More precisely to my bed so you can get a decent night's sleep. No one will disturb you there, I promise." he finished, seeing you smile shyly. "I told you, I just want to take care of you."

Like magnets, your hands once again intertwined around him at the same time that your lips sought his. It didn't seem necessary to deepen the kiss, it was as if your own body just needed to feel Law's presence there, his scent.

His lips were mixed with yours, his lips glued to your mouth. Your tongues danced slowly like a small intimate rediscovery between the two of you. It didn't last long, long enough for him to hold you against his arms.

"I was an idiot, I know, I promise never to act like that again." He murmured against your skin, hugging you tightly before letting you go. "Ready to go?" He held out his hand to you. "I just need to talk to Bepo and Clione first."

"But this…" First you put his hat back on him and then you handed him your hand, and he immediately started walking with his fingers intertwined with yours.

"I said. I'm ready to take sides." He simply replied.

The big room seemed intact like a work of art. Everyone was standing in the same position, except that you could hear some murmurs. One of the only things different was Teru. His confident posture had been replaced by him with his hands under his face, looking nervous. As soon as he noticed the presence of the two of you, he seemed to regain a little of what had disappeared. You didn't want to argue anymore, things seemed clearly resolved. So when you saw him walking towards you, your only reaction was to hold the hand tied to yours even tighter, which seemed to catch Law's attention.

"Hey, I wanted to apologize for…"

"Stop talking." Law limited himself to saying even though he refused to look the man in the face. "Bepo, Clione, please let me know as soon as we're ready to dock at the next island. Until I'm informed, no one leaves the Polar Tang."

"Yes, captain!"

"Do you want to go to our bedroom and rest?" Ikkaku approached you, proposing with a gentle smile. "We're sorry we didn't notice anything before."

"It's okay." You nodded, smiling in her direction. "I just needed to get that off my chest."

"Ikkaku, don't worry." Law turned to her. "On second thought, I think it would be a good idea for you to sleep with Shachi and Penguin or with someone, wherever is more comfortable." Law pointed out, unable to resist glancing at Teru sideways. "I won't cage his, but I also don't know how comfortable I am knowing that someone is capable of breaking into other people's rooms."

"That's a great idea, thank you, Captain."

"You're all dismissed."

Law once again began to guide you, this time to the opposite side. As soon as he opened the bedroom door, he made room for you to enter. The environment became increasingly familiar to you, even though it was still full of books and comics scattered around.

"Are you sure I won't get in your way?" you insisted and instead of hearing the answer come out of his lips, you only felt his arms encircle you and guide you in not-so-aligned steps to the bed. "Can I take that as a no?"

"You can take that as a no, it's my pleasure to have you here." He said in a light tone, the opposite of what you had heard earlier. "Before you rest, I need to know something."

"What do you want to know?" Your voice was shaky, thinking about what you had shouted at the top of your lungs. As soon as you sat up in bed, you had to hold back a light laugh when you saw Law lift your legs and arrange some pillows.

"What did he do?" He sat up, indicating that you should lie down. "I mean, I know he did enough to upset you and that you asked me to take it easy, but I need to know under what exact conditions I can send him away from here."

"And what would the options be?"

"That depends on what you tell me." One of his hands rested on your thigh, in an almost imperceptible caress. "He can leave here, walking on his own two feet or he can leave here in pieces, straight to the bottom of the sea. In short, of course."

"He didn't do anything serious. I think that, apart from the day he broke into the room, he was just being inconvenient. I think most of my outburst was just a rant." You explained and saw that he seemed to be thinking about the next words he was going to say. "What I said there…"

"It's okay." He tried to reassure you even though he was mesmerized by how lovely you looked lying on his bed. "You need to rest, we have all the time in the world to talk later."

"Law?" Only a low grumble came from his lips, encouraging you to continue. "Can you stay here?"

"Yes, of course."

The idea at first was to climb over you and head to the other side of the bed. However, you seemed to have very different plans. Your legs closed against Law's waist and your torso raised enough to pull him towards you.

He didn't need any more tips than that. As soon as his body fell on top of yours, your lips were locked against his and even with all the desire, you could feel him withdrawing.

"I need you." You mumbled against his neck feeling him growl against you, fighting against his own will.

"Babe not today."

"I missed you so much, I just need to feel you even if it's just a little." Again the sly tone against him.

God, Law knew he had never needed to have as much self-control as he was having at that moment. And it wasn't that he didn't want you - quite the opposite, since his hips moved in search of some kind of friction against you. It was just a mix of guilt for everything that had happened and concern. He just wanted to see you well.

"You just need to feel me, huh?" His tone was a few octaves lower and rougher as his hand slid down your body.

His lips didn't leave yours as his hand roamed your body. Fingers slowly gliding over your skin, pushing aside any type of fabric he could find along the way. Wet kisses ran down your neck to your nipple, eliciting gasps that matched the arch that was forming in your back. More contact, more pleasure, you needed more Law.

Two fingers slid through the damp fabric of your panties, sliding there unpretentiously, waiting for you to release the last thread of sanity.

"Law, please, I need you."

"Me? What do you need?" He set the fabric aside, letting his finger slide away from where you needed it most.

The blue dome formed over the two of you before you could understand the word he had said and there was something almost poetic about how he could use the same thing to do devastating things - like dismember, kill or press his fingers into the place that burned you the most.

"M-more." A strangled moan escaped your lips in a brief moment you forgot you didn't need to hold back.

"Babe you need to rest so let's not go through much of this today." He said with a mischievous smile as he noticed the frustration in your expression. "I think I can give a little more to my girl." His middle finger penetrated you slowly feeling you contract and moan slowly as your hips sought more and more. "Do you want anything else?"

You mumbled something he could barely understand not that he cared much about it at the moment. The way your body tangled against his made it clearer than any words could.

"Can you take one more?" His ring finger joined his middle finger inside you as his palm began to rub against your clit. "It's right here, isn't it, sweetheart? I can feel it."

"Just don't… don't stop."

"It's just you and me here, babe. Come on, I can feel you squeezing me. I've missed this pussy, so much." The dirtiest words were whispered against your ear as if someone could break the dome between the two of you. "Do you want to cum? I know you do, give it to me. Just give it to me, sweetheart."

Legs trembling, a blank vision and a scream that would surely be etched in your throat. Before you opened your eyes, you could feel something against your face. Once, twice, three times. A few small kisses spread almost chastely across your skin.

"Are you okay?" Law's eyes were immediately above yours. "It seemed intense."

"It didn't just seem like it."

You laughed, feeling the weight of his body on top of yours, but not for long as he adjusted himself and lay down, forcing you to fit into his arms. You could feel his breath against your skin as his fingers caressed your skin. At that moment, you wanted to say so much. So many feelings that could easily become a waterfall of words, but in the end, they were summed up in just three of them. Three words that you felt like they were being said against your skin before your eyes closed.

Maybe it was tiredness or maybe it was because you were sleeping in a much more comfortable place than you were used to. You were definitely getting used to being there, or else you wouldn't have rolled over in bed looking for someone else.

As soon as you did your morning routine and went to find your tasks, you found your corner of the board empty, your tasks redistributed to others.

"You need this." Shachi tapped your shoulder as he passed, knowing that you were probably confused by your huge list. "Take a rest, after all, we're only going to give you this gift today."

"Thanks, I guess."

You could use a few more hours of rest, even though you didn't know if you'd be able to sleep any longer. The small memory of the night before came to your mind. You couldn't have gotten it wrong, could you?

The walk to Law's room seemed like an eternity and you made sure to distract yourself with anything you found along the way, a way to gain even more time for your final decision.

When you opened the bedroom door, you found Law sitting on the bed as if he already knew you'd be back there.

"I heard you got the day off." In an unexpected gesture, your legs guided you until they stopped in front of him.

Your fingers itched, gathering courage or at least trying to find something to do with your hands. They had never been so restless, so lost. Maybe that was reflected in your frightened expression since the reaction didn't come from you but Law. His hands pulled you by the waist until your legs circled his body, fitting on top of him without any kind of malice. It was as if that path had become the favorite route for both of you.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked and you nodded. "And did you eat?" Again, the same gesture. "What's going on then?"

And then there it was. Law's worried yet sweet tone and his eyes attentive to your every move, his hands clasped around your waist as a mix of marking himself present and also as a guarantee that he would keep you there, next to him.

It was almost cathartic to understand that, something so big and in such a few milliseconds. It bordered on frightening while at the same time taking away all the fear you were facing.

"I love you." The words came out like that, light as someone saying a simple good morning. As if it was the thing you said to him every morning. "I think I love you. I'm sure, actually, I love you." and there it was, all the confusion, all the butterflies in your stomach wanting to fly out at once.

Cathartic. Just like the smile that appeared on his lips, that lit up your captain's eyes.

"I love you." Coming from him, it sounded like a relief. As if that secret had been kept for too long. "I've loved you for longer than I can even calculate and that's a little scary. I hate myself for acting the way I have in the last few days."

"Don't worry, I think I love you enough for both of us."

For a long time, you were against romance books. The story of the kiss of love, all the drama surrounding it seemed not to suit you. Or your other relationships. Or Law's stolen kisses. Or the idea that your greatest closeness began with something that goes beyond a kiss.

But there it was, lips on lips, his hands moving up your back and your mouth giving way to him. That was a kiss, one of those that took your breath away before his tongue even explored yours.

His hands on your back were replaced by the comfortable mattress. His white t-shirt was thrown somewhere you would worry about later. Your clothes met the same fate and you both couldn't be less worried about it.

"Just tell me you need me, please." He whispered against your skin, his lips descending to your belly. "Babe, please."

"I'll always need you."

This time he didn't tease you, he just dove into your intimacy. Honey and saliva mixed in his mouth and that was certainly the best thing he had ever tasted. Your hips sought more and more and he would give it to you, with all pleasure. Your explosion didn't take long to arrive and before you became too sensitive, your fingers tangled in his dark strands, pulling him back.

"Any lessons for today?" you teased him as he fit between your legs.

"No. Today I want to learn." His cock rubbed against your thighs, a hard resistance as he was getting closer and closer to where you both wanted. "I want you to tell me what you like, what you want."

"Just you." Your legs circled him, you could feel the tip of his cock brush against your entrance and sink in inch by inch. "Fuck!"

"That's my intention." He chuckled against your skin and swallowed your moans against a kiss as your intimacy swallowed him completely.

Slow thrusts drew small moans from you. Damn, it would be hard to control like this and Law knew he was in no condition to focus on anything other than you. Other than your body around him, your moans and requests for more and more against his ear.

The speed increased and by that time someone had certainly already heard you, not that he cared. His fingers intertwined with yours.

"I can feel you… oh fuck, babe I can't hold it in much longer." He moaned against your skin, thrusting without much rhythm, but more and more intensely. "Cum with me, love, please."

The request was enough, the simple request for you to contract against him and for him to spill himself against you. Almost like a perfectly orchestrated symphony.

Law didn't want to let you go, ever, but even more so at that moment. Only when he managed to breathe properly again - and you were still a little breathless and airy - did he pull out of you, only to let himself go and pull you against his chest.

"Shit." Your mumble caught his attention. "You know everyone heard, right? They're sure to make fun of me."

"It's a shame." He laughed, letting his face sink into your hair. "Lucky for you you're off today."

"Yeah, lucky indeed. I can get locked up here."

"And lucky also that you're dating the captain." He blurted out the information, expecting a reaction from you. A complaint, a grumble, but in return, he only found your almost incredulous smile.

"Are you kidding me isn't it?"

"I can get down on one knee, I can buy you a bunch of flowers, I can book an amazing restaurant just for you." He started listing, seeing you look at him with shining eyes. "Whatever makes you happy, as long as you agree to be my girlfriend."

"I accept. Can you say that again?" you asked and saw him pretend to try to remember something, even scratching his head.

"Okay, low blow." he said with a laugh, as you started to give him some pinches. "I love you."

And little did you know that that morning he disappeared, initially to teach Teru a lesson, to make him regret every single thing. But your words remained in his mind, your request to just let him go and for the first time in a while Law wanted to follow someone's order - your request. That's how he changed his course and didn't add "give you a ring" to the list of things he would do for you, after all the jewel had been bought that morning and he couldn't wait to see you wear it.

[1117-yungi]

MOONSTRUCK. park seonghwa x gender neutral!reader [1.9k]

on a quiet rooftop under the moonlight, two strangers who have crossed paths countless times finally connect. as the night deepens, their magnetic pull becomes undeniable — they realize they might not need to navigate life’s uncertainties alone under the stars.

genre. neighbor!seonghwa, neighbor!reader, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

warnings. lowkey angsty, swearing, seonghwa has glasses, secret mutual pining, unprotected sex, kind of vanilla in a way, he does choke reader briefly, he's unbelievably cute and gentle with reader its sickening, reader is lonely. pet play? idk bunny used as a pet name. size kink, praise, rushed ending, implied monster cock seonghwa tbh, slight body worshipping, probably more...

note. i have been obsessed with moonstruck by enhypen so this is kinda based on that song and i broke the text where the smut starts so its optional guys...

the quiet hum of the city fades as you step onto the rooftop, the air crisp and cool against your skin. above you, the moon hangs impossibly bright, spilling silver light across the skyline. it's your escape, the place you go when the noise of life becomes too much. your apartment seemed suffocating at this moment, providing anything but comfort — maybe from the thought of finals approaching. it was quiet as always on the rooftop. but tonight, you're not alone.

he's there, leaning against the railing with a look of quiet wonder, as if he's never seen the stars this close before. you don't know his name, only that you've passed him in the halls of your building, shared shy glances in the elevator, and felt a strange pull whenever his gaze lingered a second too long. the idea of making conversation with him during those minimal interactions, if you'd even call them that, was overwhelming.

to your surprise, he makes that conversation. "you come here often?" he asks, his voice soft but carrying in the stillness. god, it was such a line and it made you crack a smile.

you nod, hesitant. "it's peaceful. feels like the world stops spinning for a while."

he smiles, mimicking your own and it's as if the moonlight shifts just to illuminate him. the slight shadow casting over him makes him look just that more attractive. "i get that. sometimes, it feels like we're all just… lost satellites."

the conversation flows effortlessly, surprising you both. you talk about the constellations, the city lights, and the quiet dreams you've kept locked away. there's something magnetic about him, something that feels both familiar and completely new at the same time.

as the night deepens, the gap between you closes. there was once a distance between the two of you, but he changed that. he takes a step closer, then another, until his shoulder brushes against yours. you can feel the warmth radiating from him, a stark contrast to the cool night air.

"i've seen you before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but i've never known how to start a conversation. you seemed… untouchable, like the moon itself."

you laugh softly, the sound caught somewhere between disbelief and vulnerability. "i'm not the moon. i'm just as lost as anyone."

his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, the world truly does stop spinning. "maybe we’re not meant to find our way alone."

and then, with the stars as your witness and the moon as your accomplice, he leans in, and the universe tilts in your favor.

for the first time, you're not just stargazing — you're falling, and the descent feels like coming home. you don't pull away. for a moment, neither of you move, as if the world outside the rooftop had disappeared entirely. it's just you, and him, and the soft murmur of the city below, distant yet somehow alive, like a quiet heartbeat. his breath is warm against your skin, his presence steady, like he’s been waiting for this moment, too.

the sound of a car horn blares far below, and you realize you're both still standing there, caught in the quiet hum of the night. your hand brushes against his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to reach for him — to hold on to whatever it is that's growing between you. his fingers are warm, his touch hesitant at first, but it's enough. just enough to feel real.

"is it always this easy?" you ask, your voice almost lost in the wind. you half-expect him to laugh or back away, but he doesn't. his eyes are soft, patient, like he's waiting for you to figure out what comes next.

"maybe we're just lucky," he says, his voice low, almost intimate. "or maybe we were meant to find each other tonight."

the words hang between you, like a secret shared under the stars. it feels like a thousand possibilities are unfolding in this one single moment, and yet you both stand there, just existing in it. there's no rush. no need for anything more. just the quiet connection that’s formed in the spaces between your words, in the way your hands fit together so perfectly.

you shift slightly, turning to face him more fully, and for the first time tonight, you meet his gaze with the courage to hold it. his eyes are deep, and you find yourself lost in them, like a new constellation you want to learn by heart. it's an unspoken question between you — about who you are, what brought you here, what you both want. but there’s no need for it to be said aloud. not right now.

"i didn’t think…" you begin, but the words stall in your throat. "i didn't think i'd meet anyone here."

"yeah," he says with a small, almost imperceptible grin. "i didn’t either. but maybe that’s the point. sometimes, the things we're not looking for are the things we need the most."

you smile then, the kind of smile that feels like it's been waiting for years to be released. it's not just about the words; it's about the quiet certainty that somehow, in the stillness of the rooftop and the light of the moon, you both understand each other more than anyone else could.

the breeze picks up, ruffling your hair, and you close your eyes for a brief moment, listening to the night. for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel like you're just waiting for something to happen. the world feels full — full of possibilities, full of moments yet to come.

"i guess we're not alone after all," you whisper.

he steps closer, if that was even possible, his breath warm against your ear, and the space between you is no longer a distance to be crossed. he leans down, just enough to make the air around you both thrum with something electric.

"seonghwa," he whispers. you frown before realizing that you hadn't even known his name. you whisper your name back, making him smile. he repeats it, as if it was a new flavor he hadn't tried before.

his lips brush against yours.

it's soft. a gentle connection. but it lingers, like the promise of something more. the moment doesn't feel like the beginning of something fragile, something that could easily slip away. it feels like the start of something solid, something you can build with each other. your arms wrapped around his shoulder and tugged him deeper into the kiss, offering a more passionate take.

you were breathless after a few moments. as you pull back, your fingers still tangled with his, you know — the city below, the stars above, none of it matters. this moment is enough. it's all you need. you and a stranger.

"you're right," you say, finally finding your voice again. "maybe we weren't meant to find our way alone."

"no," he agrees, smiling like he’s been waiting for you to say that. "we weren't."

the night stretches out before you, wide and endless. next thing you knew, he was guiding you towards his apartment, just down the hall from yours. you had grown so familiar with the front door that seeing the inside was strange. seonghwa was neat, more neat than you had expected.

words didn't need to be spoken between the two of you anymore. his lips found yours with ease; your lips were like a drug and he was becoming an addict, needing another fix. you raised your hands to cup his face, deepening the kiss. the tension had finally boiled over into a heated passion and lust between the two of you, with seonghwa pushing you down onto his couch, not sparing another moment as his large hands begin roaming over your body, worshipping your skin as you made out.

breathy sighs escaped your wet lips, and your gaze drifted along his body before tugging on his shirt, signaling you wanted it off. he let out a breathless chuckle from his throat. "as you wish," he whispered before removing the fabric.

wow.

your hands reached out to touch his abdomen, grazing each defining line on his stomach. he shivered at your touch, melting slightly. and soon enough all of the clothes creating distance between your bodies were removed.

seonghwa reached down, rubbing his hard dick up and down your entrance, attaching his lips to yours once again.  he kissed along your neck as a distraction as he started to slowly to push in, testing the waters, watching your face as he stretches you out. "fuck," you whispered. he was so patient. he watched your reactions and each facial expression you made carefully, making sure he wasn't hurting you in any way. "you okay?" he asked after kissing your temple, making you so overwhelmed with feelings and more importantly, pleasure. it had been a while since you had sex.

he kept placing gentle kisses on your forehead temple, keeping himself still until you give him the okay. you eventually nod against him, your face still buried in his shoulder, holding him to you.

setting a slow pace, he watches your body with an intensity you weren't familiar with. you had never felt so cared for; a strange feeling erupted from your chest. but after hearing your moans start to gradually increase, he picks his pace up, hitting something so deep inside of you that it makes your head fall back. he takes the opportunity to graze his plush lips against your neck as it becomes more exposed.

he's hitting that certain spot inside you, sending a euphoric feeling through your abdomen that makes your thighs shake deliciously. it was like your entire body is infatuated by him. the care, the attention, the fondness, even the angle of his hips as they snap against yours.. it all has your mind floating on cloud nine. and god, you don't want it to stop, you don't ever want this feeling to end. you needed for him to hold you close, to have him in your blood, even. you know addicted just like he was; you've had a taste of him and you knew it was him. just him. fuck, you were moonstruck.

"seonghwa," you moaned in a pornographic way. he visibly shook at the sound, his eyebrows and face contorting for a moment. "fuck, bunny, don't say my name like that, you're gonna make me come," he groans, lifting his head up while adjusting his glasses that had fallen to the tip of his nose. the same hand moved up, applying a slight pressure to your neck that made your head fuzzy with pleasure and emotions.

you barely even registered his words as he spoke. a chuckle erupted from his chest, repeating it. "are you close?" he asks, and you could only muster up a whimper in response, holding tight onto his biceps. "you make me go crazy over you," he says, his upper body falling down on top of yours again, as he holds you close. and then you come, the warmth and safety his body is giving you making you release, every part of your being comforted by the man above you as he orgasms as well, shooting his load deep inside of you.

and for the first time, as seonghwa breathes quietly on top of your sweaty body, you know that whatever happens next — whether it's the pull of a final exam or the quiet moments shared on a rooftop — you won’t be facing it alone. the city hums, but you're no longer lost. you've found your place in it. and maybe, just maybe, it's with a stranger you met under the stars.

[synthetickitsune]

Merman!Jeonghan (SVT) | Net angst | 0.9k | gn!reader cw: injuries, mentions of merfolk trafficking -> mermay masterlist

The one fucking day you’re on the boat alone.

Just your luck.

“How did you get stuck? Aren’t you, like, supposed to be as smart as a human?” you grunt while trying (and failing) to make sense of the net currently wrapped and tied and tangled all around the vaguely human-shaped being flopping on the floor. He isn’t making it exactly easier.

“My friends pushed me there,” he growls back.

“Some nice friends you got there,” you roll your eyes. A pale arm flashes among the dark rope for a second before it disappears again into the mess of the netting - disappears somewhere you supposed his throat would be. Shit. You stop and straighten, staring at the impossible task in front of you.

“Are you choking?” you ask because at this point being anything but straightforward is a waste of time.

“Your net is trying to strangle me, yes,” he hisses. Yet he doesn’t stop struggling.

“Alright, so can you please stay still?” you sigh. Your hand wraps around the handle of the knife strapped to your hip. Then you shake your head. The net is too expensive for that. “I will help you but unwrapping you is impossible if you keep struggling.”

“I’m bleeding and choking, sorry I didn’t think to sit back and relax,” he snaps but at least he listens.

You kneel down and get to work. This wasn’t what you had in mind at all - the reason you decided to sail out alone in the first place, despite the dangers, was to work. Because you desperately needed money and it doesn’t grow on trees. But you won’t catch any fish if the net is occupied by a mouthy merman. Then again he could fetch a nice price. If you were willing to abandon your morals and principles, that is.

It’s a challenge but a manageable one when the creature finally stops trashing all over the place. You’d be willing to bet he wasn’t this badly tangled before he started panicking once you pulled him out of the water. The worst is the hair. First because it’s everywhere and it basically wound itself into the rope and second because, unsurprisingly, untangling it is going to hurt regardless of how careful you try to be.

He’s trying to stay silent but the rope burns and irritates his injuries and his scalp must be in hell. You’re trying to be gentle because you do have sympathy, there’s just not much you can actually do. You wince with every roughly pulled out scale that leaves a bleeding hole in his skin.

It takes much longer than you expected to free him. The sky's still blue but the sun is ready to start its descent. You heave a sigh and lean back against the ship’s side. Finally you take a proper look at the only thing you’ve caught the whole day. And it certainly is a catch.

It’s hardly an exaggeration to say he takes your breath away. You think if you were a different kind of person, you wouldn’t have to work another day in your life if you just sold him to the smugglers.

“Stop staring, it’s rude,” he clears his throat and looks away. Is he… shy? You quirk a brow.

“Where’s your sass now?” you smirk and hold his gaze when he glares at you.

“It’s the bloodloss,” he nods towards the many cuts on his skin and tail. Right. The cuts. Red bloody streaks all over the floor.

“Stay,” you point your finger at him and get up to grab the first aid kit.

Only when you sit next to him and properly look at him do you notice that he’s paler than he should be. His breathing is more laboured. The cuts, at least most of them, aren’t too deep but there’s plenty.

“What’s your name?” you ask while you dab around the first cut. He hisses and jerks at the burn but soon forces himself to sit still.

“Jeonghan,” he answers and simply nods when you introduce yourself in turn. You focus on cleaning his wounds. You have no idea if there’s any point to it but it makes you feel better. Even though you’re still not sure how responsible you should feel for his injuries.

“Thank you,” he says suddenly, almost too quiet for you to hear, “For freeing me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, so find some better friends,” you huff. 

The cuts on his tail are particularly nasty. He doesn’t have the strength to hold back anymore and whimpers whenever you have to pull out the scales that got mangled by the net and embedded themselves into his flesh at painful angles.

“I usually manage to dodge at the last minute,” he pants out. You roll your eyes. 

By the time you’re finished, the sun is setting. The cuts stopped bleeding but Jeonghan can barely keep his eyes open so you let him rest while you start the slow return trip back to shore. 

Watching him sleep you realize how vulnerable he is. It could be an act of course, but the slow rise and fall of his chest makes something inside you hurt anyway.

You help him over the side of the ship before you get too close to civilization and watch his clumsy fall back into the ocean. You don’t expect to see him after he disappears under the surface so you jump when you hear his voice calling your name just as you step behind the rudder. 

“Come back here tomorrow around noon,” Jeonghan calls. He’s even more beautiful in water. “I’ll help you catch more than you ever did to make up for today.”

You smile.

“Sure,” you shrug and let your lips twist into a smirk, “If you don’t I’ll just catch you again.”

He grins. You consider your challenge accepted.

[watermelpm]

A "little" Kokichi Ouma analysis

WARNING - Spoilers for LOTS of V3

As a character, Kokichi Ouma is smart, skeptical, arguably selfless, absolutely obnoxious, and someone who would do anything for the greater cause. His forced role as the “antagonist” paired with Shuichi’s forced role as the “protagonist” makes for an intriguing, tragic dichotomy between the two that enhances his own descent into villainous extremities, up until the deadly climax of chapter 5. He is a fantastically complex character, partly due to being one of the most intelligent and forward-thinking in the entire franchise, despite how he seems on the surface.

Kokichi’s intelligence is evident from multiple elements of the game, even just as simple as his room (enhanced analysis abilities in particular are evident from the whiteboard and his ability to predict, anticipate, and plan for future room invaders). Additionally to his room, he also knew/predicted the Monokuma cameras that were around the campus WAY before anyone else noticed; kept track of all the events that were happening/things being said, placing importance on Gonta’s brief mention of “seeing little bugs”, asking Miu to make the BugVac for his suspicions; wrote the Horse A message, meaning he knew or at least hypothesized Rantaro’s perk before anyone else; and made every single move under the assumption the mastermind was one of them, which he was correct about!. Kokichi had a fantastic, well-rounded understanding of how he was perceived and meticulously planned every move he made around how others would react.

Another important aspect of Kokichi is his unrelenting skepticism, which I firmly believe was the crux behind every move he made in DRV3. He kept track of all the murders— hoarded pieces of each trial—, firmly doubted his own memories (which was almost unanimously accepted by everyone else, even the Ultime Detective), and was extremely careful around every other person in the game. His unexplained disappearances and generally less rambunctious, loud attitude at the beginning of the game makes me believe he was observing the actions of his classmates, getting to know their character, and analyzing their chances of becoming killer/victim, which informed his later attachment to classmates he deemed safer (i.e. Gonta in particular). My belief is a lot of his earlier lies were meant to paint himself as not vulnerable, lowering his chances of being killed, and his more innocent, earlier lies eventually grew into the astronomical falsehoods they became because he realized the survival advantage of no one knowing when he was telling the truth.

However, the most crucial reason I think Kokichi’s lies got as out-of-hand as they did is because his classmates immediately and unquestionably treated him like a villain. It’s practically confirmed in-game that Kokichi played up his sinisterness the entire game (playing the mastermind, acting like he was going to “win” the game, both of which are disproven by the end) and I believe it’s because all the other characters expected him to be that way. Everything he said was treated like something wicked and malicious because he phrased it playfully/mischievously, but his intention was almost always (at least until chapter 4) non-malicious. This can be easily seen from the very beginning, when he’s “getting on Kaede’s case” about forcing everyone to keep trying the manhole escape minigame when they were clearly unable to continue, and from him encouraging Himiko to let herself feel upset after the chapter 3 trial. Yet, from almost the first words out of his mouth, Kokichi was seen as the antagonist. Not to say he wasn’t sly, mischievous, playful, and a fucking smartass, but no one could see past the surface of undesirable speech characteristics to understand the intention beneath.

It’s my theory that, by chapter 4, Kokichi fully realized that no matter what he said, it would be perceived negatively. However, as stated, Kokichi was smart, and he ultimately used this epitome to his advantage— wrapping himself up in lies, going completely crazy with it, because it truly no longer mattered what the truth was in the eyes of everyone else. He was willing to lie, cheat, and let everyone else think he was a terrible person for one reason and one reason only: to end the game.

Kokichi hated the killings, as evidenced by D.I.C.E. 's rules about murder and his later confessions/efforts in ch 5. There were many other smaller motivations he practiced throughout the game (surviving was one of the biggest ones, but I’d argue discovering the truth about the game was just as important) but his hatred of the game was the biggest driver of every single action he made. This, in my mind, is the most important reason he “became the villain”: not because he wanted to, but because his classmates wouldn’t listen to him any other way, and he needed to have relative control/understanding of their actions to carry out his own efforts to end the game. None of them (except maybe Gonta, and Shuichi near the beginning) picked up on his ulterior motives, or even had general curiosity about why he acted the way he did. It’s this unfortunate perception of him that prompted Kokichi to intensify his behavior in an effort to reach his goal. Even if he wanted to stop the villain act, Kokichi had gone too far by chapter 4 to pull himself back out, so his lies only grew.

It’s impossible to talk about Kokichi’s character without talking about Shuichi’s because their arcs are so beautifully intertwined. Their separate journeys inform both their development throughout the game.

Kokichi gravitated toward Shuichi from the beginning. This is evidenced by his whiteboard (trustworthy?), his efforts to befriend him in chapter 4, and the general “togetherness” of their viewpoints during trials (99% of the time being on the same side in debate scrum and Kokichi’s lies almost always serving as a way to further the truth both Shuichi and him were seeking, even if they were seemingly at odds). Shuichi was different from everyone else, expressing curiosity about Kokichi rather than immediate resentment like the other classmates, and Kokichi clearly wanted him on his side. Yet, Shuichi, much like Kokichi, was forced into a role by his classmates: the protagonist. While Kokichi’s talent was immediately perceived negatively, Shuichi’s was perceived positively (due to the nature of the killing game, having an Ultimate Detective on your side was likely a factor). As the game progressed (and he grew more confident in his abilities) he proved himself as someone capable of investigating the murders and coming to the correct conclusion.

By chapter 3, everyone had begun to rely on Shuichi to get them through the trials. Even when he was shocked and sad about the deaths, he immediately jumped into every investigation because everyone else’s lives were dependent on him doing so. This ultimately just perpetuated him being driven into the role of the protagonist because he couldn’t stop doing what he was or everyone would die.

Shuichi’s “rivalry” against Kokichi was fabricated completely by the roles they were pushed into. Shuichi was led away from Kokichi the entire game by his friends (Kaito and Maki especially, who both despised Kokichi and vice versa) and Kokichi was isolated, the only person who could stand hanging around him being Gonta. The rest of his classmates’ hatred toward Kokichi also turned Shuichi’s feelings for him into resentment by chapter 5, with Shuichi often feeling like a villain for “siding” with Kokichi in trials. Shuichi was curious/skeptical about Kokichi’s motives the entire game, but it transformed into dismissal (ignoring Kokichi being hurt after he fell through the floorboards in ch 3) and irritation (how Shuichi acts in ch 4’s trial) because he began to perceive Kokichi as everyone else did: a villain.

None of these roles ultimately benefited them, in the end. Even Shuichi, who we usually see as someone who gained more self-confidence due to the uplifting of his friends, really didn’t come out of the killing game better off. He was stuck carrying everyone else through trials, pressured to perform under his intense anxiety/fears, which only made him more scared about making a mistake and inadvertently being the reason for everyone’s deaths, if he was. Kokichi put on a mask of lies to protect himself, not seem helpless, and to achieve his goals, but was pushed into decisions he never would’ve made otherwise in order to play the villain (sacrificing Gonta and using him to kill Miu, for example, discussed later.) Thus, they both suffered for the situation they were put into, forced to butt heads but just as trapped as the other was.

Their similar yet completely opposite directions in the game, as dictated by the people around them rather than themselves, is what makes their relationship so tragic, yet also that much more interconnected. It’s one of the reasons I’ve really started to grow fond of saiou. Here are two people, neither of whom wanted to be protagonist vs antagonist, but, because of the situation they were thrown into— a scenario dictated by fear— and the surface-level perceptions of their talents/personalities by people who didn’t really know them. Kokichi wanted to get closer to Shuichi because he knew Shuichi could help him end the game; his and Shuichi's smarts working together was sure to help them figure out a plan, or at least something to stop the killings from happening and end the game. But Kaede, Kaito, Maki, and everyone else made Shuichi steer clear from Kokichi (though Kokichi was at fault for this too by a certain point because he deliberately pushed others away by chapter 3) but he knew that if he could get Shuichi on his side, they could end the game. And maybe they would’ve.

It’s even more tragic to know that they were incredibly similar not just in their character arcs but even just at a characteristic level. Shuichi wanted to find the truth so badly in every single trial, much like Kokichi, but at the end of the game he CHOOSES TO LIVE A LIE— chooses to be Shuichi Saihara and defy the game even though he knows he’s not a real person anymore. I think that’s profoundly beautiful when we think about Kokichi, who was living a lie the whole time— who already had an understanding that being a lie was less painful and often more advantageous than the truth. Yet he was just like Shuichi, seeking truth even if he had to lie along the way.

Two truth-seekers, two liars, extremely similar characters on a soul-level who would’ve made such a good team had they not been forced apart.

By chapter four, Kokichi’s villain persona was solidified, but what he did was not inherently evil. Kokichi was smart— smart enough to figure out Miu’s plan (when even the Ultimate Detective didn’t). He understood, even without knowing exactly what Miu was planning, that if he let her murder him, everyone else would die, too. I believe he felt the work he made up to that point and the entire killing game itself would be useless if it ended the way Monokuma wanted. He desperately didn’t want that, and so he sacrificed Gonta for this reason: to keep himself and everyone else alive.

This is another aspect of Kokichi’s character I feel isn’t as easily seen on the surface-level: his selflessness. Even if his jokes/lies made the others mad, he was still thoughtful and would try to help them. For example: giving them those electro hammers that Miu made to everyone and telling Kaede to stop using toxic positivity to get everyone to keep on trying to escape through the tunnel they found in Ch 1. Even him telling them about the outside world was meant to act as a mercy— to stop the killings from happening to them. But Kokichi’s ultimate act of selflessness was killing himself in the end— giving his life so that the others could live on.

I believe Kokichi felt like a shitty person for doing that to Gonta— selfish, hopeless even, just because he decided to prioritize the majority. Gonta was the only person that actually trusted Kokichi; he believed in him. That love and appreciation from Gonta made Kokichi tell Gonta about his plans; he’d bring Gonta with him everywhere, tell him what he was trying to do, and Gonta always helped him. This proves to me that if someone else had just been nicer to Kokichi, he would have probably opened up more and much of Kokichi’s more extreme, desperate actions could have been prevented. I can’t even imagine what that was like for Kokichi, tricking the only person that had actually cared about him into killing someone. And it likely made his hatred for the killing game grow even more.

I personally think Kokichi was breaking down really really hard at the end of ch 4. Even if he acted like he didn’t feel bad at all after the execution, it was just that: an act. When he tries to go with Gonta to his execution, I don’t think his feelings were lies; and, if they were, it was a kind lie, meant to help Gonta feel cared for before he died. Kokichi was hurting on the inside while watching what was happening to Gonta, you could just tell, the one person that trusted him and believed in him, he screwed over and betrayed. Kokichi even went full-mastermind mode because he felt like the villain, felt like he was evil because he sacrificed Gonta just to save himself, and realized it was the only way to truly end the game.

Kokichi was an absolute asshole and smartass that knew exactly what was happening and what to do about it. No one listened to his ideas because he put on the villain mask. The others felt like they couldn't trust him, which is what he needed, so that he could pose as the mastermind. Kokichi probably figured out Tsumugi's secret at one point during the game and that's why he played as the mastermind, which is part of the reason he acted like he drank the antidote but gave it to Kaito instead. It was part of his plan to stop the game and expose Tsumugi for breaking the rules that SHE made. He tried to make an unsolvable murder, but he hadn't expected Maki to come into the hangar, which is part of the reason Shuichi was able to solve it.

I know that Tsumugi knew that if Kokichi and Shuichi had been friends, the game would have ended earlier. That’s why I believe her/Spikechunsoft wrote them to be the Protag and Antag duo. Which is sad because they would have been a great team. And yes, Shuichi did end up having to live a lie at the end of the day, which shows great resemblance to Kokichi. They both wanted the truth, they both wanted to end the game and figure out the truth to the trials, but they both did it in separate ways. Kokichi would often question Shuichi during the trials or just in general, that made Shuichi think harder about the situation, which helped all of them find the truth. Kokichi lied to find the truth. Others may think that his lies were useless and bad, but Shuichi had also lied to find the truth. Shuichi lied to everyone else during the trials just to get the truth out of them, and it worked. They both lied to find the truth, but they both would still tell the truth. Kokichi told more lies than Shuichi, and that's what helped him find the truth. Shuichi told more truths than lies, which helped him. Meaning, both Kokichi and Shuichi had different ways of getting the truth out of others. Kokichi lived in lies, he lied to himself about how everything was going to be okay, that the game would end soon, that if he just kept his jig up for a little while longer, he would find the truth of the killing game. Kokichi didn't like lying to himself, but it made him feel better about the situation, more positive, he even lied to himself so much that I could imagine he sometimes couldn't tell whether or not he was telling the truth. Which is one of the reasons I mainly believe he went through with his plan in ch 5.

Shuichi was more emotional than Kokichi, and that's why he couldn't lie to himself. Shuichi wanted to feel better about the situation, he wanted to feel like it would get better, but it was harder for him to lie to himself like Kokichi did. No matter how hard Shuichi had tried, he just couldn't.

I couldn't figure out where to include the last 3 paragraphs but I really wanted to include them lol. Also thank you so much to my sister @kiwi-luminaryofthestars for helping me edit this silly little thing! And an extra shout-out to @starredskys for being so nice and excited to read this thing!

[themissingnumbers]

HOW IT FEELS TO DISAPPEAR: DESCENT

WARNINGS: Disturbing Imagery. FIRST || PREV | NEXT READ THE STORY ON AO3 [Try to comfort him.] [DO THE RIGHT THING. AND GET RID OF THE EEVEE.]

You can feel such an awful lump in your throat, seeing how hurt he is. You breathe in deeply and calm yourself. Your shaking voice sweetens into something soft and comforting.

"Blue..." you call to him, "Hey, look...! I'm here- I'm here for you, bud, you're not alone..."

He curls in on himself even tighter. You hear him mutter something, but it's so soft, so muffled, you can't quite understand.

"I- I'm sorry about earlier," you continue, willing yourself to keep your composure. "I'm sorry I left you alone for so long... but I'm here now! Whatever you're thinking and whatever's going on, you don't have to deal with it alone anymore. I promise. I may not know what's going on, but..."

You watch him perk up a bit. You feel a twinge of hope. That your words mean something. That you're getting through to him. That things will be okay.

"I want to help you," you finish, holding a hand out to him.

Blue turns, slowly. He meets your eyes from where he cowers below you, allowing you to finally see the poor boy's face.

His eyes and cheeks glisten with tears, and with how red and puffy they are, you wonder how long he's been here, crying like this. His dusty-brown irises almost seem to reflect as an ocean blue, despite the dim lighting...

"Leaf..." he whispers, turning and shakily rising to his feet. Your full attention lands on him- anything he has to say. You'll do anything.

"Please... Please..."

You watch your friend wince. You swear- you can hear some kind of second voice- a voice that seems to illicit that reaction from him. But you can't strain to listen, can't even react. Blue lurches forward, barely catching himself on your shoulders.

"Don't listen to him- to THEM- it's all LIES, Leaf, they just want-"

He gasps, head snapping up to look at something to the side. He seems so scared. Dread bubbling in your chest, you follow his eyes.

The countless Ghosts of unfamiliar Channelers turn to look right at you.

"... Run," he breathes, and then he starts to yell, "JUST GO, LEAF! GET OUT!!"

You try to protest, "but you-"

"NOW! JUST RUN!"

The way the boy screams, the way he shoves you away, the way Eevee cries in your arms... and the way you can feel every last ghost lurch towards you-

Pure instinct and adrenaline overwhelms you.

Half-stumbling from Blue's push, every fearful word and question dying in your throat, you turn heel and run.

Somehow, you don't have to turn to know that the spirits all rush right past Blue, leaving him untouched, unharmed-

It's the only thing that you can understand in this frantic moment: You're the one they want.

Thank the Gods, the exit to this floor has reappeared.

As fast as you feet could possibly carry you, you practically fly down the Pokemon Tower, the chill of bloody hands and screams of souls in rapid pursuit driving you forward in blind terror. The floors on floors of the graveyard are nothing but a blur of tiles and tombs and stairs and candlelight. You give nothing even a chance to slow you down.

As you focus your hands on clinging tight to Eevee, you feel your hat fly off your head- a consequence of your frantic speed and lack of care.

Stopping to save it isn't even a thought in your mind at this point.

Suddenly, you burst out of the front doors of the tower, and you finally lose your footing and fall face-first, skidding gracelessly into the dew-soaked grass of Lavender Town. Eevee is flung out of your arms on the way down, and you feel your one slipper fly off your foot, leaving you both empty handed and barefoot.

It hurts. Your face, elbows, knees all sting like hell with how hard you went down. You know you can't get up to save yourself quickly enough, not like this- your heart stops, knowing that this could be it. You squeeze your eyes shut and hide your face in your arms, ready to accept your fate...

...

...?

... You hesitantly lift your head, looking back towards the entrance to the tower.

Nothing's there. The doors are shut firmly behind you. None of the things that pursued you down the tower followed you out. You take a deep, gasping breath- you hadn't realized you'd been holding it, and collapse fully back into the grass again, just taking a moment to rest.

Dazed, your mind wanders to the exchange you'd had with Blue in the tower.

More than anything, what perplexes you is that other voice you'd heard, for only a brief moment...

"... you? Do the right thing, and get rid of the Eevee, boy. It's..."

... You pray to the Gods that Blue will really be okay. Pure regret overwhelms you as you wish you would've grabbed him and ran together.

And yet... a part of you knows he wouldn't have followed you.

Something soft and furry bumping against you takes you away from your thoughts. You shake it off, pushing yourself up to look down at Eevee.

At least it isn't too hurt... Your fall must not have flung it too far, and you're sure you took the brunt of the damage from your momentum, if the stinging of your scuffed arms, legs, and face was anything to go by.

You push yourself to your feet, looking down at yourself with a somber expression. Mud and grass color your pale jacket with green and brown, while streaks of red color your skinned knees and forearms. And all of your clothes- what's left at this point, anyways- are damp from the dew you'd slid on. A feeling of bitterness strikes you at the loss of your beloved hat... But you wouldn't dare step foot in that graveyard again. Not in a million years.

... You decide not to bother with your lost slipper, either. Walking with only one shoe on was getting uncomfortable, you try to justify to yourself.

At the very least, you've still got the clothes on your back, your jacket, and your bag... and Eevee, of course. You open the bag up, kneeling down to give it its little perch back. It jumps right over the bag and back onto your shoulder, though. After everything, you can't really blame it for preferring the closer proximity.

Well! Nothing's broken, at least. Always good to consider the bright side. As put-together as you possibly could be, you turn to look at the rest of your surroundings. It's dim- seems like dawn, you figure, the dampness surrounding you most likely a product of a crisp morning signaling oncoming rain...

You're somewhere familiar, though. That's what strikes you most. You know where you are- from here, you could finally go home. You're out of that death trap, and you know how to get back to Palette from here... it's a long journey on foot, but maybe you could get help, or wait for Blue to emerge...

The thought of just waiting here doesn't sit well with you, though. So, you elect to embark down one of the nearby routes.

...

You should know better by now to even think that this could be over.

You've tried every exit. Every facility where you could get help. The Pokemart? Locked. Pokemon Center? Locked. And all three of the exits...

Each and every one, closed off by those old white fences, and a line of ghosts- each spirit, seemingly a resident of this town, you recognize a few of them as well as the Nurse and Cashiers from the vacant facilities. They all stared down at you, sneering at your fruitless efforts to escape at every turn.

“You can’t hide from us.”

“You can’t escape from us.”

“Do you really think you have a chance?”

So, you're stuck wandering the streets- still trying each home in the neighborhood here, knocking and begging for help, only to receive no answers. Why would you? Clearly, judging by the ghosts blocking off each road, nobody's home... and nobody cares.

“Do you really think he cares about you?”

“Do you really think you can trust someone like him?”

The cynical voices seem to follow you from all sides as you try to find someone who's still of flesh and blood around here. Each jab they make is trying to cut deeper than the last, and you find yourself trying to hurry up with each whisper. They're getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Why even bother with a kid beyond reason…?”

“He’s not who you think he is.”

“He’s not your friend.”

You're tired. You're exhausted, in fact. You feel about ready to give up. You haven't tried everything yet, though, so you can't. It's not like there's any choice in the matter.

You approach one of the only homes you haven't knocked on yet. You're running out of options. What you need right now is a goddamn miracle.

Same as every other home, you reach out. Knock on the door. It's silent.

You reach down. Try the doorknob.

And to your shock and relief... it opens.

You peer inside, feeling about ready to leap for joy. There's a few people inside of the house, as well as some Pokemon- a younger girl, a Bug Catcher, and someone else sitting by the window. The Lass spots you, motioning for you to hurry in.

You gladly oblige, slumping back against the door. Just by being in here, as if smiled upon by some distant, divine protection, it seems like a huge weight has been lifted. Your injuries sting a bit less, your heartbeat steadies, and it's like you can properly breathe again. You thank your lucky stars to have stumbled upon a place like this.

After a brief rest, you move forward to better take in your surroundings. It's only now that something clicks- the layout, the Pokemon in here... This was Mr. Fuji's house, wasn't it? It certainly explains the more welcoming atmosphere- he was such a kind man and cared so deeply for any and all lonesome Pokemon. If this were a safe haven for those Pokemon, then it'd only make sense for the same to ring true for you and the other children in here.

The girl doesn't directly acknowledge you, but you hear her sniffling, whispering to the Nidorino that had been a long-time resident. You faintly catch something about "wanting out of this nightmare," and you can't help but feel some relief in knowing that this isn't all in your head.

The Bug Catcher is much quieter. You meet his striking green eyes for a moment- they almost seem to bore into you with a vaguely familiar look, and a faint amusement... he doesn't say anything, though. Just turns his attention back to playing with the tiny Caterpie on the table- notably, the only Pokemon here that you don't recognize as one of Mr. Fuji's.

Whatever, you think. It's not anyone you know. As far as you're concerned, he's unimportant- just another lucky kid who'd gotten away from the ghost, just like you, that lass, and the other person at the back...

When you look up at them fully, your thoughts screech to a halt.

The jacket- the hat-!

You could practically leap for joy. This isn't just someone you know- this is someone you love, this is family, this is your brother-

"Red!!" you exclaim, hurrying over and nearly tackling him into a hug the second he turns to face you. You practically sob into his jacket, clinging onto him tight as if he'd fade away when you let go.

“Red- Red, oh my Gods,” you manage, “I’m so glad you’re here- I, I don’t know what happened-! I had this, this awful dream, I, I think- And now there’s ghosts, just- just everywhere, I– I woke up in Pokemon Tower, and- and Blue, he, he's…”

As you ramble, nearly manic as you confide in your brother about all the pain you've been through, your voice begins to grow weaker and weaker, until finally, you trail off completely. You're almost too exhausted for words, but that's not the only thing...

He's barely even moved a muscle, no less actually reacted to your presence. It's like you're hugging a rock. And yes, Red's always been on the more stoic side- but you pull back, and stare at his flat, borderline disinterested expression, the same as it's literally always been, and you feel a pang of frustration.

Even once, could he be bothered to try to show that he cares? To even try to comfort you? You know he struggles with this emotional stuff, but... After everything you've been through, not even so much as a single word, not even one movement...

It's like he's staring right through you.

It's like he doesn't even care.

You try to swallow back your brewing frustration. Relax, Leaf. He's... He's usually like this. You just need to give him patience. Just a little grace, same as always. You just need to be patient.

You open your mouth, your next words tumbling out as barely a whisper.

[maxispixels]

HANDPICKED

PART SEVEN.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

2k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy?

CW: Minor injuries, vague mention of politics

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Part ten. Part eleven. Part twelve. Part thirteen. Part fourteen.

The weather had not gotten any softer, but you felt much better. Apart from a few sniffles, you were all good. Naturally, you came back to work, and thanked Rose warmly for the soup. Not for bringing Hobie to your house, although you could’ve. 

He didn’t show up again for a while, but you weren’t as worried. You felt confident in the fact he would come back to you at some point. You’d gotten used to his habit of disappearing for a while every few days. Still, it felt a little empty without him, and you caught yourself turning to his corner of the shop to say something, only to be met with his absence.

Rose stayed in the shop with you the first few days after you came back to make sure you were okay. She was stern, and had a tendency for tough love, but you knew she meant well, and you could feel her caring underside. She even made you tea every morning and handed it to you with a look that said, drink this, or else. You’d laugh, but you drank it.

What you enjoyed a lot less was BBC radio 1 constantly on. The top chart was nice, but the news just made you anxious. A lot of strikes were going on across the country, something about coal miners, then about a car company, you weren’t sure. It was confusing and honestly quite scary. 

The government’s answer seemed unreasonably violent, and conflict with Ireland seemed to get renewed. You remembered how horrible it went a few years ago, and you shivered at the idea of it degenerating again. 

You wondered if Hobie cared, or if he was even involved. He still didn’t tell you about anything, and you could only take his secretive nature for so long. You guys were friends, right? Kinda? Somewhat? He could be honest with you. 

Your eyes drifted to the big front windows, as the sun was setting low behind the thick grey clouds. One thing you couldn’t hate here was the sunset in early winter. Sure, it looked a little ominous, but so did all great things. Your mind flickered back to Hobie for a second, before you well pulled back into reality as distant police sirens resonated in the streets not too far.

The newspaper beside the till taunted you with headlines that mirrored your growing anxiety. It dawned on you. There was no escaping your country’s slow descent into madness.

At least, the clock announced the end of your shift, and with a wistful sigh, you gathered your things and closed the shop. You made your way home, avoiding the streets where protesters usually marched in. You just didn’t want to get caught up in anything dangerous. Maybe it was a little cowardly, but you just wanted to maintain your peace. 

The ride home dragged on, each turn of the corner to your street tightening a knot in your stomach. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, if the constant assault of bad news you couldn’t shield yourself from was finally messing with your brain.

You felt the air shift as you climbed the stairs to your flat. It smelled like metal and tar, and it made your insides twist. This was definitely not your imagination. You held your keys in between your fingers inside your pocket.

A large, heavy hand slid on your arm, startling you, and you defensively pulled out your keys. Your heart leapt to your throat as you spun, but the familiar voice grounded you before your panic could spiral. “Not like that, sweetheart.” The relief that it was Hobie was short-lived as your eyes took in his battered state.

“Hobie…” you called softly, your lips parted as your eyes fell on his bruised and swollen cheek. 

“Lemme show ya.” He gently grabbed your wrist, adjusting your hand around the key so you held it more like a dagger, pointing downward. “‘ere. You’ll have more strength and you won’t risk breakin’ any of your fingers.” He breathed, his voice rough and low. 

You barely registered his words, your gaze scanning every little blemish or mark on his face. You instinctively reached to brush his skin.

In a now familiar gesture, he grabbed your wrist again, moving it away from his face, not allowing you to touch him. Your eyebrows furrowed but you let go, instead rushing to open your door. “How long have you been waiting?” You asked as you kicked your shoes off and held the door for him.

“For you? Forever.” 

You didn’t know if you were supposed to laugh at his cryptic words. You took another long look at his face. It looked like he took a good punch, at least. The skin on his cheek was swollen and inflamed. His lip had been busted, but the blood was already dry. You grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapping it in a cloth as you gave it to him.

“Thanks…” he muttered, holding the pack to his swollen cheek. With a quiet hiss, he sank onto your bed.

You looked down at him, your chin tilted down to your chest. “You know, I’m going to have to ask questions at some point.” You murmured, almost shy. 

“Mmh.” He laid his head on the pillow. “No one’s forcin’ ya to.”

You sighed at his retort. “First, are you hurt anywhere else?”

He shook his head, but you hesitated to believe him.

“Could use a massage.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “My shoulders are really sore.” You just pouted at him, earning a low laugh. “Kiddin’.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You insisted, your eyes scanning for more injuries. 

“Mhh. You shoulda seen the other guy.”

You puckered your lips a little, biting the inside of your cheek. You weren’t sure if you should be angry at him or not. It wasn’t your place anyway, was it? “Hobie.” Something like a plea bled through your tone, taking you both by surprise.

A moment of silence stretched between both of you, until you plopped down next to him, bouncing on the mattress for a second. 

“So, you were in a fight…” You assumed, as he spoke about ‘the other guy’. “What happened?”

His gaze flickered away in a moment of hesitation. “If I tell you, it’ll ruin the mystery.”  

Your fists clenched the fabric of your clothes tightly, and the way the corners of your lips tugged down made his throat tighten. Your heart sank. He wasn’t looking away, and you didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

Then, you noticed his hand getting cold and sore, holding the bag of frozen peas on his cheeks. You leaned closer and held it for him. “There.” He twitched and pulled back a little.

“Hold still—You’re going to make the swelling worse!” You scolded softly, careful with the bag and the cloth. You shifted on your knees, just slightly closer to him.

“Mh. Ain’t used to someone lookin’ after me like this. Dunno if I’ll get used to it or run away scared.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re scared of a frozen bag of peas?”

“Nah, scared of ya lookin’ at me like that, all soft an’ sweet.” His voice dropped. “Dangerous, you are.”

You weren’t sure just how much he was just trying to mess with you, and you just stared up blankly, blinking at him. Your jaw hung open, your breath uneven and he rolled his eyes. “You’re doing it again—”

Suddenly, your lap was the most interesting thing in the world as you couldn’t bear to meet his gaze. You caught a glimpse of his raw knuckles, and it reminded you of why you were in that position in the first place.

“You can’t keep dodging my questions…”

“How I’d love to prove ya wrong.”

You sighed softly, examining his face again, his slightly busted lip, his discomfort at the cold against his cheek. You looked at his eyes, almost able to count his eyelashes. Thick and long.

“Hobie…” You pleaded again, not sure what about.

“You can’t keep usin’ that on me.” He groaned.

“Why the secrecy?” Your voice softened, almost timid. “Don’t you trust me?” 

A silence lingered at the end of your sentence. 

“I don’t want to drag you into this mess.”

Your stomach twisted. 

“I almost did, but I don’t want to anymore.” He breathed softly. 

“What do you mean?” You asked in a murmur.

“I wanna keep ya in your bubble.” Your eyebrows knitted together, needing him to elaborate.

“Y’know, it used to frustrate me a little, how… Oblivious, you seemed. Nothing touched you. This place is sinkin’, people are dyin’ in the streets while the queen's parade for her jubilee and you… You just fuss about your flowers, an’ you do watercolors.”

You felt a little hurt at that. Not only did you just learn that you frustrated him, but hearing him talk about you like you didn’t care was upsetting. You weren’t the most involved, but every headline you read made you sick. You cared so much it overwhelmed you. 

“Am I supposed to stop living and sulk over everything wrong in the world all the time?”

He didn’t look away. “That’s not what I mean.” He pinched his lips, looking for his words. “On the contrary, that’s what I learnt to appreciate so much. I’d walk into the shop and feel like I could breathe again, that things could still be alright.” His voice dipped lower. 

“Flowers can have that effect…”

“T’was not the flowers, love.” His hand found the back of your head, gently resting on the nape of your neck. 

The hair on your arms stood up, and you almost did as well, just to try and run from the burning sensation in your stomach. The hand holding the frozen peas had started to shake a little, and his free hand grabbed the bag to let it on the bedside table. “I should put them away, not waste them…” You murmured.

“Shh.” He held you in place. “I’ll get ya the whole aisle of frozen peas if you want. Asparagus even. Stay ‘ere.”

His hand lingered on the back of your neck, his thumb tracing barely-there circles that made the hair stand up across your back. The air had never felt heavier, so thick it made it hard to breathe. He was touching you so gently, like you were something precious. Like you were one of the roses he picked up so carefully when you first met him. 

“Y’know,” he started again, his voice a hint softer. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m bangin’ my way on the wall, tryin’ to change a world that just don��t want to. But then there’s you.”

You blinked, unsure if he was still joking or if the warmth in his voice was real.

“Me?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. You. With your watercolors and your daisies. Remindin’ me there’s still somethin’ worth fightin’ for.”

Your heart twisted, caught between surprise and something warmer. “Hobie… That’s not—”

“Sh. Don’t argue. Don’t argue with me on that.” Your eyes were wide and his half-lidded. “You don’t know what it’s like to come outta all that chaos and find you.” He paused, his thumb stilling on your skin. “That’s why I don’t wanna tell you a thing. Keep you out of everythin’. T’keep me sane.”

Anything you’d try to say would come out in a jumbled mess, and you weren't even sure you could keep your voice steady. So instead, you remained silent, your eyes tracing the lines of his cheeks, the shadows beneath his eyes. 

His hand slipped away and you suddenly felt cold. He shifted, leaning back against the wall, his head tilted towards the ceiling. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it still felt heavy, full of bottled up feelings that refused to be shared.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You shouldn't let me stay too long. It's bad 'abit."

You tilted your head to look at him. "Hobie," you murmured quietly, like you were calling his name in a prayer. "I don't think I could stop you even if I tried."

His lips curled into something between a grin and a smile. "Dangerous, you are."

You let the silence fill the room again, it felt lighter somehow. You just stayed close to him, close enough to hear his breathing, much slower than the pulse you felt in your temple.

Part eight.

@hoe-bie (since you asked, hope that's how we do it)