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slu7formen · 4 months ago

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luke castellan x fem!reader

luke finds you after you went missing in quest. on the way back home, luke’s determined to take care of you.

warnings: mention of weight loss, wounds, bl00d, just overall crying, reader and luke shower together 🫣, intimacy, kinda angst ???? idk it’s one of my first times writing this

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There was a tense silence in the car. The cold night air hitting your face was refreshing yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of that nauseous feeling in your stomach and throat. Luke occasionally darted his gaze to you, but quickly looked back to the road, almost as if checking if you were still there or not.

"We´re almost there" he blurted out suddenly, glancing at you again. He´s been like this since he found you, trying to get you to talk, but you wouldn´t say a thing. It was ironic, how you used to spend so much time with Luke when you were younger and how he went through hell and back just to find you and yet, you were unable to form a word. Luke didn´t blame you though. He understood you more than anyone else. He didn´t want to talk to anyone when he came back from that quest that condemned him with more than one scar for the rest of his life.

And seeing you like this now, it was only like looking at his own reflection. He saw in you what everybody saw in him at seventeen.

The dirt on your clothes, or what was left of it, you were covered in a soft white blanket that Luke found in the back of the car. The dirt on your skin, your hair, under your nails. You didn´t have any old wounds visible, but fresh ones that were made just a few minutes ago when you and Luke had to fight your way out the cave of that cyclops. It stained the blanket.

You´ve lost weight, too much. Only you know how many hours or even days did that cyclops leave you to starve, weakening you more and more. Your skin seemed fragile, like a thin layer of glass, and that was your only protection.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

It took him time to find you, like a week or more. Chiron was convinced you´d find your way out of that mission, but when two weeks became three, and three became three more, that´s when camp started to get worried. No one dared to follow the same path you did, except Luke. What could he loose? Nothing but his own life. Chiron trusted him, and thank the Gods he did.

Luke couldn´t forget the sight of you when he found you, laying on the hard rocks, unconscious. If he hadn´t gotten there on time, you would have probably been eaten alive. When he lifted you up, he didn't want to admit the fact that you felt light, lighter than before. How weak he felt you.

He caught a glimpse of a tear when he got you into the car and put on your seatbelt, but again, he knew you wouldn´t make a sound. You both left the place silently, only trusting that Luke was driving you somewhere safe, that everything was over, that the cyclops stayed right in Tartarus where he belonged, and that Luke wasn´t going to be your second kidnapper.

At least the car, which was stolen, worked like wonders. The entire road trip was silent, sometimes broken by the sniffing of your nose or your uncomfortable movements. Luke couldn´t take you to camp, not yet at least, and as much as he wanted to, he also couldn´t. It was too far away now, and besides, you needed a proper rest.

"We´re here" he said as he parked the car. A solely motel stood there, on the side of the road, no sign of any other human or not human life around, just the dry and cold road, endless in the night. Luke knew this place was safe from any danger, he stayed there last night.

The receptionist didn´t even bother to look up and see that Luke was walking in with another person, wrapped in a white blanket and dirty. She just handed him the keys, her eyes glued to some fashion magazine.

The room was nothing special, just a small bed, a small table with two chairs, an old and uncomfortable looking sofa, a bathroom, and a closet. A tv was hanging on the wall, and a small fridge was standing in the corner. At least, you had a small balcony. You looked around, eyes trained and ready to decipher any type of danger, yet your head wouldn´t stop throbbing with pain, your eyes barely getting used to the artificial yellow light. Luke had placed his belongings on the bed, but as soon as your eyes caught them, he removed them and placed them over the table. "Sit" he demanded.

You obeyed, sitting on the bed and keeping a close eye on the older boy, watching as he opened the small fridge and brought out a bottle of water along with something wrapped in aluminum foil. "It´s what I have now" Luke stated, placing the wrapped food in your hands, if he was starved, he couldn´t imagine how your stomach was feeling. "I´ll get some more tomorrow, okay?"

You didn´t answer. Instead, you stared at the food. Luke was slightly startled when your fingers started to work rapidly around the foil, unwrapping the cold grilled cheese sandwich. You devoured it like a wild animal, taking big bites and barely even able to swallow before biting again. Luke chuckled slightly, placing a hand on your back, soothing slowly. "Easy there" he said, "It's all yours"

Your hands started to shake, your stomach protesting against the amount of food you were giving it after long weeks of starving. Tears started to prick your eyes, and Luke noticed. "Thank you, Luke" you sobbed out as soon as that sandwich disappeared. Your head crashed onto his shoulder, crying as Luke quickly wrapped an arm around you, "thank you" you kept repeating. Luke and you were close when you were younger, around fifteen or fourteen, but now a lot has changed. Yet, Luke never stopped looking after you.

It felt weird to cry on him. Your weeks of torture, pain, hunger and dirt and fear pressing onto Luke´s shoulders like a dark cloak, yet you couldn´t bring yourself to stop. You smelled the fresh air, clean one, how your back didn´t have goosebumps because you didn´t feel as if someone was behind you, waiting to attack. You felt safe and relaxed, but it was too overwhelming to feel thar way.

"Shh" Luke soothed, running a hand through your hair, "it's alright, I've got you"

And you stayed like that for a moment. You cried, and he held you. He knew how hard it was, and he didn't want to say anything that would hurt your feelings, so he remained quiet.

When your breathing evened out, your tears dried up and the shakiness of your hands died down, you brought yourself to stand up slowly. "I'm sorry" you whispered. You hated how your face got all red and puffy from crying, how the tears blurred your vision and how your voice sounded hoarse and shaky.

"No need," Luke smiled, "how about you take a shower?" he suggested, eyebrows rising softly.

You didn´t answer, Gods, you totally forgot what even a shower felt like. You suddenly felt embarrassed, what did you look like now? Your hair was probably way too dirty, all hard and tangled, not to mention the rest of your body. You were so disgusting, you didn't even know where to begin. That cyclops spat on you way too many times for you to not smell like his saliva, some of it even stuck to your clothes. Your breath must´ve been horrific, and you were sure you´d have to ask Luke for some extra underwear.

He stands up quick and jumps to the bathroom. You stand there, smelling your hair and immediately feeling as disgusted as ever. You hear the water running, Luke had turned on the shower for you. He must´ve noticed the way your eyes darted around nervously, a hundred thoughts and questions invading your mind in just a second. You wondered how much time you were there, standing like an idiot, for him to offer to turn on the water.

He came back quick, smiling softly and patting your shoulder. "It's all yours, don't worry, I won't watch"

You nod, a little embarrassed that you couldn´t even do the simplest tasks and he had to help you with it. "Thanks" you said again, removing the blanket over your shoulders and placing it over the bed. Luke watched as you walked away, the dried blood on your arms and fresh wounds decorating your pale skin like a canvas, he was sure he had some bandages or ambrosia to help you with that.

He sighed and threw himself on the bed, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv, trying his best not to think about you. He couldn't let his mind go back to the moment he found you, and the state you were in. It reminded him so much of him just a few years back. He promised himself to change, to not care, to foil his own heart with a thick layer of ice, but as soon as he realized how ugly things were turning after you didn´t come back, who was once his friend, that ice started to melt.

He wondered why were you even the one to leave in the first place, what were you thinking? Why did you accept the mission? Why didn't you say no? Luke couldn't bring himself to hate Chiron for sending you out there. It wasn't his fault, nor yours. You were young, and Luke knew it wasn't your first time either, but the danger was worse than any other mission you accomplished. He couldn´t stop thinking about you for some reason, maybe even way before you left, you were a part of his mind.

He was like an eagle, keeping an eye on you, watching, but never attacking. Never making his presence known. But then, the news of your missing broke his silence, his invisibility. It was just the same as if you were dead, and he was forced to watch as his friends cried over your absence.

"Luke?"

He jumped out of his position, startled by the sudden sound of your voice. The water was still running, he heard it, but you walked out of the bathroom with a towel around your fragile body. You were dripping little droplets, but you weren´t done, you weren´t clean. Still dirty, still bloody.

"What´s wrong?" he asked, maintaining his position on the bed.

"I-" you stuttered, embarrassed, "I can't do it"

Luke tilted his head in confusion "Do what?"

"Wash my hair, or- myself"

Your hair was wet, but not completely soaked, meaning you must´ve tried to wash it yourself but couldn't do it. "You can't reach it?" he asked, almost in disbelief rather than worry.

You shake your head, your cheeks red in embarrassment. You looked at Luke, and then at the ground, hoping that it would just open up and swallow you whole. "My arms hurt too much" you explain.

Luke stands up then, walking slowly towards you. As he does, you extend your arms to him, for him to see. Luke never noticed the purple rings that decorated your wrists, a clear sign of handcuffs or some type of chain. In the darkness of the night and the cave, he must´ve mistaken it with dirt on your skin, just as the rest of your body, covered in soot and dirt. He follows the path up to your forearms, which were a little better, but filled with cuts, fresh and old ones. He looks at your left bicep then, where a nasty purple bruise stood, three fat lines, just as fat as the cyclops’ hand.

Luke´s about to say something, that he understands, the he´ll help, but you turn around then. Luke sees the old wound on your other arm, your triceps, a clean deep cut probably executed with a knife or a pointy rock, the yellow, green and blue nebula-like image staining your skin.

His fingers tent to grab you softly, but he looks somewhere else. Slowly, he moves your hair out of the way, placing it over your shoulder softly. He stares then, looking at what the towel wasn´t able to cover. More bruises, although small, looked painful over your muscles. There were more cuts too. Scratches. Near your spine, a long pale pink stripe, stood proudly on your skin. It looked fine, but it must've hurt like hell, even more with such a slow healing. It would scar. If only Luke had come sooner.

"Get back in the shower" he demanded softly, placing his hands on your naked shoulders. "I´ll help you get clean"

You nod, not bothering to turn and look at him, but rather, just obeying. "Will you-, get in with me?"

Luke feels his heart race. He didn't mean to sound suggestive, no. His face was red. Your body was hot, he was sweaty, and the bathroom was filled with steam. His clothes started to stick to his skin, making him feel hotter and hotter, and the thought of being in the shower with you only made him want to slap himself and stay awake.

"Um-," he breathed out, trying to hide the way his voice cracked slightly, the way his throat went dry. "If you want to, I mean" he clears his throat, "I don´t want to make you uncomfortable"

"You won´t" you assure him. "But if it´s uncomfortable for you-"

"No" he interrupts you, way too quickly. "I mean, I´ll help you if that's what you want"

You don't bother to turn around, instead, you walk in the bathroom. Luke watches, his eyes trained on the back of your body, how some of your bones poked out slightly, the bruises, the cuts, the scratches. You close the door then, and Luke stands there, waiting. His heart starts to race and beat harder and harder, his hands sweat, his knees feel weak. He didn't even realize how bad his palms were sweating, and he rubs them over his shorts. Why was he so nervous? It wasn´t as if you were asking him to do anything weird, you just needed help and it was pitiful. You couldn´t even move properly, for God´s sake.

"You can come in" he hears you say.

He gulps, and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the air fill his lungs. He opens the door then, and walks in. He sees the towel hanging on the doorknob when he begins to remove his clothes. He grabs the edge of his boxers, wondering if it was really necessary to take it off. He takes a look at the shower, the curtain closed, the water running, he barely saw a glimpse of your shadow. Just the thought of walking in there made cold sweat drip down his spine.

He takes a deep breath, and removes his underwear. He figures that if nothing was meant to happen, and that you were fine with him seeing you, then he didn´t have to worry about you seeing him.

When he enters, the hot steam hits his body like a soft cloud, enveloping him in a warm embrace, and the water feels hot. He sees you, under the shower, the water running down your body, though it looked unpleasant. He doesn´t dare to look down or somewhere else that isn´t your face, yet he doesn´t feel like it´s a forced action. You make him comfortable, even when you´re in the most vulnerable state you´ll ever be in your life, he doesn´t feel anything else other than comfort.

You smile softly at him then, and he steps behind you. You hear him breathe heavily once or twice, but neither of you say anything. "Can I?" he asks then, pointing at the cheap motel shampoo. You nod, and let him do whatever he has to. It felt weird, having someone else take care of you this way. You didn´t know why you felt the need of him protecting you this way, but it wasn´t bad.

He pours some in his hands and places it over your hair, slowly working his way through the knots. You relax, the feeling was strange yet welcome. You forgot how pleasant and orgasmic showers were. He massages softly, avoiding to pull at any strand, and it feels nice. Soothing, almost. Your head throbs less, and the headache that had been bothering you since Luke took you out of that cave started to disappear slowly. His hands were gentle, caring, and his breathing was soft behind your neck.

It was hard for him, though. To pretend as if nothing was happening. His heart was beating harder and faster with each second, the blood rushing through his veins, his palms sweaty and his eyes wanting to look elsewhere. But he was afraid, he couldn´t risk losing his cool and making you feel uncomfortable, so he didn´t dare. He was thankful you were facing away, that way, you couldn't see the way his cheeks blushed.

"Thank you" you whispered, the water running down your face and hair. Luke had managed to get rid of all the knots in your hair, and you felt so much better already.

"Don't thank me" he replied, letting the shampoo fall of your hair to cleanse. He took the little bottle again then, and repeated the process. He figured that just one round of shampoo wouldn´t be enough for you.

He followed the same path with the hair conditioner. He looked down briefly when he was done, careful not to go too low, but he noticed the dirt still lingering on your skin, the one that the splash of hot water couldn´t clean. He grabbed the soap then, and lathered it softly in his hands. His eyes lingered on the scars that decorated your body, he wondered what did they come from, where were you hit and how, why did you get them and how did they look like before.

He got close to your ear, "Let me know if anything hurts, okay?" he asked softly. You barely look at him over your shoulder, and you nod. It was more than obvious that everything would hurt, even the water splashing on your skin, yet you wouldn´t complain about it all.

He pressed the soap against your skin, but he didn’t dare to touch you any more than that. His free hand remained in his side, away from you. You didn´t know if he was doing it because he didn't want to touch you, or because he wanted you to tell him it was okay to do so, and that he was allowed to touch. His hands rubbed the soap, creating a thin layer over the dirt and grime. You closed your eyes. it was better to think of anything else other than the feeling of his hands on you, but you found your mind wandering to his body, only separated by air.

His hand rubbed circles on your shoulder almost as a kind gesture for you to warm up, but you couldn’t help but interpret it more than that. It was such a small kind gesture, but your body reacted in such ways to it ― goose bumps spreading like wildfire across your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

You hissed when he started rubbing your back, the soapy water stung your wounds, the smaller they where, the worse it hurt.

Luke stopped. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, but it wasn´t convincing. "It just burns a little" you explain, little tears stung your eyes.

He understood, and continued. He was careful not to press too hard or anything, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you more. He watched as the soap did its magic, how it got rid of the dirt and grime that stuck on your skin.

He dared to step a little closer when he reached your neck. He felt warm, his hands were soft, his grip gentle. You felt like you could fall asleep in the comfort of his embrace, warm and soft, not daring to harm. You closed your eyes, the water running down your face. Your breathing was soft, and you didn't have a clue of what you were doing to him.

His fingers on your neck tickle a little, yet it feels as if the most precious touch someone could ever give you. It felt sweet, tender, and you couldn't help but lean into the touch. Just slightly, just a little bit, you let your hair fall. It reaches Luke´s shoulder barely, yet Luke feels a wake of warm comfort over him.

He feels the need to grab you, to hold you. He wants to wrap his arms around you, he wants to tell you it's going to be alright, and that he's got you, but he can't. Not yet.

The soap´s smell impregnates in your body. Though cheap, it´s sweet. It smells like peaches, a deep artificial version of it at least. It was relaxing, almost like a lullaby. He stops then, his fingers lingering over the bruise on your triceps. The cut looks a little better without all the dirt and irritation, yet the bruise around it remains the same. He brushes it softly with his thumb, like a comforting caress. It doesn´t hurt, so you say nothing.

That same hand travels up then, careful not to brush any other wound, not allowing himself to hear a single cry come out from your lips. The water´s still hot when he reaches your shoulder, and your breathing has slowed down, yet his heart beats faster than ever.

He lets himself get lower, his torso leaning into you, his head lowering. His nose grazes your shoulder softly, just a slight movement, almost an innocent gesture. Your skin was soft, delicate. And he lets himself go lower, his lips placing a kiss on your shoulder.

It´s small and tender, lasted less than a few seconds. But he stays there, his hair getting wet, the water dripping down the side of your body, like you and him got frozen in time. The waters keeps on running but the room is filled with silence, as if it had to be broken by one of you. You say nothing, nor him.

Luke doesn´t have the heart to pull away. He doesn´t know why did he kiss you, he doesn´t know why did he allow himself to be this close, but he wanted to do it again, and he couldn´t bring himself to regret it. It felt like the most natural thing, and he wonders if he had gone mad, if he was still sane or not. But you did not reject him, nor did you pull away.

Your hand is tentative when you reach for his, the one placed on your shoulder. You feel his chest pressed onto your back, and you can feel the heat coming from him, how the water droplets run down his hair, his neck and his face, and how his breath is soft against your skin, warm, and it tickles a little.

He kisses again, the same spot, and then once more. Your hand is warm in his, and your fingers brush softly against his knuckles, like an encouraging gesture. He kisses once more, and then his lips travel further up, reaching your neck, and the next thing you feel is his lips on your pulse point. They press there, and stay still. It tingles your whole skin, goosebumps travelling from your ribs to your toes, the feeling exciting you.

He´s the one holding your hand then, flipping it and taking a soft hold of your wrist, careful not to squeeze your bruises around it. He lifts your hand close to his face, but his lips travel directly to your wrist, maybe a little lower, kissing your forearm. Over the tiny cuts, the scratches. He doesn´t press, and he doesn´t hurt. The warmth of his lips is inviting, and his tongue is soft, the way his mouth opens and closes over your skin like a delicate flower. When you dare to look a little closer, to look at him, his lips go to your knuckles, pressing softly over the dry blood that stained your hands. His lips were soft, like a cloud, and tender. He kisses them all, so gentle and soft that it makes you forget about the pain, how sore you are, and it makes you want to touch him too.

Just from one of his kisses on your hand.

He stops then, his sweet lips separating from your skin, but his hand still held yours. He wrapped his hand around yours, your fingers curling inside the grip of his own, trapping it in his warm embrace. Your body still faces the front, the water splashing both of your bodies as you lock eyes with him. He presses his forehead to yours, and his nose gently brushes against yours, the tip of it going up and down your own.

Your hear and feel his breath, even though it feels steady. Your heart beats a thousand miles, and you can´t help yourself but to close your eyes and feel. He leans closer then, his lips inches away from yours, and you can feel his breath and taste the water that runs down his lips and his chin, and suddenly, the space between your bodies doesn't feel big.

But it was. Because when the distance was about to be broken and Luke´s lips would finally press against yours, you had to pull away.

He doesn't look upset, he doesn't look hurt, his expression doesn't change. He knows. And that's the best part, how he doesn't feel bad for the mistake. You pull away almost as if you were pulling yourself away from him fully, yet you didn´t. You stayed close enough to feel his presence pressing behind you, yet far enough for him to not be able to reach your lips. He lets go of your hand, and you can´t help but think of yourself as someone stupid. Such a warm feeling, such a comfortable and protected embraced, destroyed by you, and your fears.

"I, uh..." you darted, facing the wall, your wet hands pressed to your face. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, it's fine" he said, his voice was still soft, yet the way his tone changed was noticeable. You could hear the embarrassment in his words. ¨You don't have to apologize, really. I'm sorry"

"No, don't-" you breathed out, trying to find the right words. You didn't want him to apologize for something he didn't do. It was all your fault. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment, it's just... I-"

"Really, don't worry about it" Luke insisted, trying to keep the situation calm. The water was starting to feel cold, and the room was getting less steamy, but neither of you bothered. He placed a hand on your shoulder again, careful not to startle you. "Can I still help you?" he asks.

You look down at yourself, how weird your body looked like this now. Almost clean. "It's fine, I can clean my... front"

You slapped yourself in your mind for that. Luke chuckled silently behind you. "Okay" he sighed. He opened the curtain and slowly stepped outside the shower, partly because he didn´t want to leave, and partly because he didn´t want to slip in the wet floor. "Let me know if you need me for when you're done"

You nodded, and then he was gone. As soon as he walked out the door, you leaned back, letting your head rest on the wall behind you. Your breathing was shaky, and your legs felt weak. The room was filled with the sound of the running water and the beating of your heart. It felt like a dream, yet you couldn't believe how stupid were you. The both of you naked? In the shower? You let him see you like this? What the hell were you thinking?

You felt a little desperate for human touch, that was a fact but, did you have to go this far? What if he thought you were easy? He probably felt pity, and that was why he was helping you. What if you made things weird between you two now?

You finished quickly, cleaning yourself up the best you could, but the process was long. Your body hurt, and no matter how hard you tried, there were still wounds that refused to be cleaned, and it only frustrated you more. You got out of the shower nicely though, wrapped in two surprisingly cozy towels. You noticed the unfamiliar clothes resting on a wooden chair that wasn´t there when you got in the shower. You recognized those sweatpants; Luke brought you clothes.

Luke was lying on the bed watching tv, some old crappy show that distracted him barely from the previous shower experience. You walked slowly, the pain on your legs was almost unbearable. "Um, I'm done"

Luke turned his head to look at you. He was dressed too, wearing a plain shirt and some old sweats. A toothy grin appeared on his lips, "Too big?" he asked, eyes darting down to your covered legs. You blushed a little, startled by the sudden confidence and embarrassed by the fact that you had to hold tight onto those sweats as you walked or else, they'd fall. You sat on the bed next to him, looking for some miracle hairbrush in the empty motel cabinets. You weren´t lucky enough. "I wanted to get you something to eat from the vending machine, but I didn't want to leave you alone" he explained.

You shook your head, "You said we were safe here but it only works when you're in the same room as me?" you suggest, jokingly.

Luke shrugged, "I was sent to find and protect you, so that's what I'll do" he simply replied.

You looked at him, and smiled. How could he be so nice after all the stupid things you've done?

"Don't worry, I'm not even hungry" you stated, completely ignoring his bravery. "I'm just tired, I wanna sleep"

"Sure" Luke smiled. "I'll just turn off the lights and-" he said as he stood up from the bed, walking towards the light switch. "I'll let you sleep"

You frowned your brows though. "Wait, you won't sleep here?" you asked, confused.

Luke reached the switch, yet he didn't touch it. Instead, he glared towards the other side of the room, where the old sofa laid. Now, it was covered in sheets and a pillow, a homemade bed. You noticed the way he tried to avoid your eyes. "I thought you wouldn't want to, you know..." he pointed the bed, followed by a quick scratch on the back of his neck.

You couldn't blame him, honestly. After what happened in the shower, he had all the rights to assume that. But that didn't mean you were okay with it. You didn't want him to sleep uncomfortably on the couch, nor did you want to kick him out of the bed. It was big enough for the two of you. Luke has been having quite rough days, you couldn't help but notice on his tired face. It was his first time resting properly since the mission and he was going to sleep in an old and creaky sofa?

You hissed with pain when you positioned yourself differently on the bed, Luke attempted to grab you as if you were falling, but you got yourself comfortable fast enough. "Don't be silly. Sleep on the bed" you said.

Luke frowned his brows, followed by a shook of his head in denial "I don't mind sleeping there" he reassured, pointing the couch. "It's not even uncomfortable" he lied, remembering the way he struggled to make it into a bed. ¨At least the sheets are clean, I made sure of that" he added.

"Luke, stop it" you said, behaving tough for a second, "I know you want to sleep here. It´s a bed"

Luke stared at you for a moment, thinking of the way his body was already screaming at him to lay down and sleep. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep there, it was that he wanted to. He knew the bed was big enough, but the shower incident had him doubting himself. Was it alright? Did you even want him there? Or was he invading your privacy? The questions invaded his mind like a disease, and the way you looked at him with pleading eyes was almost enough to convince him, but the last thing he wanted was for you to feel pressured.

"You saved me. It's the least I could do for you now"

Luke felt his heart melt, and he had the biggest urge to hold you and protect you. But instead, he nodded and smiled briefly. He pressed his sweaty hands against his sweatpants as he started walking, but quickly walked back again to do the previous task he didn't finish; turning off the light. You took the sheets of the bed and slipped in slowly, Luke helped you by holding your arms softly. He slipped after quietly, trying not to disturb the peace.

The silence hugged the room, the only sound erupting from a bunch of crickets outside and the low volume coming from the TV. It was a weird sensation, sharing a bed with someone else after being rescued from a cyclops’ cave, and not knowing what was okay or not. It felt wrong, yet you didn't want him to leave. It felt right, though.

"Good night" you whispered then, closing your eyes, the fatigue in your body screaming for a proper sleep.

"Good night" Luke replied, turning to his side, giving you his back. The bed wasn't small, but it wasn't that big either, yet he didn't dare to move a single inch.

You weren't asleep yet. You heard him for a couple minutes, his breathing, the way he moved slightly, how the sheets brushed against his skin. It was a little distracting, but you felt the tiredness take over you, the darkness surrounding you easily. Luke closed his eyes, but the only thing he could think about was your warmth. It was like an oven, and even if he was sweaty, his whole body was hot. He knew exactly what he had to do, what to say, and he stood there, in that abyss in which someone doesn't know what to do, if step forward or step back.

He needed to get it out of his chest, or else, he would regret it forever.

"I've always liked you"

His voice was barely a whisper, but in the silence of the room, it was loud. The air hitched on your throat. You turned your head to see him, but you only perceived he was turning his back to you.

"What?" you asked. Fearing that maybe, he was talking in his sleep.

Your heart began beating fast. It felt like the shower, a hot embrace.

"I've always liked you, yn" he repeated.

There was a moment of silence. Your eyes were trained on his figure, yet he didn't dare to look back at you. You felt a knot in your stomach, butterflies. Your breathing was calm, yet your heart was beating a thousand miles. Why was he telling you this now?

"I know you have a million things running through your mind right now and I know I'm being selfish, but" he said, words coming out like vomit, "I was so glad that I found you. I'm relieved that you're alive. I guess I'm letting all my emotions get in the way and that's why I'm telling you this now"

It was hard to formulate the right words. He didn't know what was going on, or what he was doing, he didn't know why. Maybe the heat had gotten into his head. It was stupid, the feeling, but he couldn't deny it. He knew that, sooner or later, he'd have to tell you.

Fuck, and if he was telling you this he was going to have to do it the right way.

He turned his body around once again, the bed creaking with his weight. You couldn't see much because of the dark, yet the tv light did just enough for you to see his glistening eyes.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while" he admitted, embarrassed. "But I've always cared for you and you know it. I realized why I cared so much after I lost you"

You stared at him, his brown eyes shining under the yellow light. He was right, the two of you didn't speak since a few years ago, but he was the one to blame. After his own mission, he blew everyone away, every person that tried to help him, including you. He though you did it for pity; he hates pity.

"So seeing you now, after nobody knew anything about you, it's just..." he continued, unable to find the right words. "I'm just glad I'm the one who found you. And I'm sorry about the shower, I-" he rushed himself to correct that mistake before you thought of him as a pervert. "I don't want you to think that I'm trying to do something with you. I wouldn't take advantage of you, and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know that-"

You cut him off, "I know" you said, reassuring him. You let your hand fall back, placing it over the mattress. "Gods, relax, Luke" you breath out.

You let your hand hover his for a second, until he took the initiative to brush his fingers against yours, carefully and slow. The warmth spread from his hand to yours, and soon, the contact was enough. His eyes darted down, and his thumb brushed softly over the bruises and cuts on your skin.

He had so many things he wanted to say, but none of them left his mouth. He'd have time to do it later.

"Thank you" you said once again. One more time before the day ended didn't hurt anybody.

The corner of his lip twitched in a small smile. "Let's get to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah" you whispered, "But, can you still hold my hand?" you asked.

Luke chuckled softly, squeezing your hand softly, almost pressing it against his chest. "Anytime"

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan fic #pjo x you #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan x imagines #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan angst #angst #light angst #angst i guess

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ysaefinn · 1 month ago

Text

My sword ensures your crown

Yandere knight!Suguru Geto x royal!reader, crumbles of lady in waiting utahime x reader

Tw: mentions of blood and murder, yandere themes, suguru's obsessed.

A/n: This took everything out of me to finish in one day, i lost the earlier draft and had to restart all over again. It turned out better than the original, tho. It's 7 pm over here, and my brain is begging me for a rest. Please let me know if you find any errors >0<

-> amazing devider by the amazing @uzmacchiato (they're so delicious)

Synopsis: Durring the wee hours of the morning, word reaches you about your favorite knight. You rush to meet him only to learn about yet another one of his benevolent efforts.

Before you stands a vicious beast.

Suguru is dreanched in blood. He looks like a wild animal with all of the red painting his armor crimson, his heavy panting doesn't help his case, making him seem impossibly more feral. But, you know he's anything but. He further proves you right when he swiftly moves to close the distance between you by enveloping you in his arms and holding on as tightly as he can. You can feel his shaky breaths against the side of your neck, his tears catching on quicky after as well.

The blood is seeping into your clothes, lines of red intertwining with threads of silk, binding you to him. And you know suguru well enough to discern that this was indeed the intention.

"Sugu-" steel poleyns crashe against the marble floor, halting you in your tracks, you don't get to finish your sentence before your knight kneels on both of his knees, hands gripping your garments for dear life, face hidden in your lap. Suguru crumbles to the ground and so does the illusion of a monster.

A sigh of relief makes its way out of his throat, he shifts his body to wraps his arms around your waist. You stand there in the silence that follows, dreading the moment you have to ask.

"Its not my blood" the answer to your unspoken question reaches you in the form of a raspy breathless whisper. "Don't worry, your highness" suguru mutters before burring his face deeper, basking in your presence.

"I see..." the relief in your tone isn't lost on your knight, you can feel his content smile before he nuzzles deeper against your lap.

"In that case uhm....if you..if you don't mind, who exactly-"

"Don't mind that"

He almost snaps. The shift in his mood is loud and clear, it's like your question startled him, it has even him stumbling for an adequate follow up.

"Please. Your highness, don't stress yourself. Its my duty to protect you, no matter the cost"

The knight is not delusional enough to believe his own lies. Of course, he knows the noble man who was on his way to ask for your hand in marriage didn't pose any immediate danger. Of course, he understands that your marriage would be beneficial for the nation, of course he knows such extreme measures aren't necessary. You have your fair share of tricks. Your influence is nothing to scoff at, but not even you can sway the king when it comes to deplomatic matters such as these. Your father is a tough cookie, something suguru won't entertain. So it's his responsibility to shield you from what you can't handle.

"Alright then...i understand. Enough said" he doesn't have to say it outloud for you to understand. It's an open secret that suguru would go to unimaginable heights to insure your happiness, be it plucking fresh berries for you, or disposing of your suitors. It's what a faithful servant does, it's only natural. However, the topic of your marriage in particular, seems to stand out to him.

Suguru wants to believe that this is all for you. He wants to say that your smile is the only reward he would claim. But he knows his sword won't show any mercy even if you approve of the admirer.

The sight is straight out of a tragic opera. You look like lovers like this, a man on both his knees, his sweetheart in his arms, both covered in a blanket of red. The gruesome factor adds to the appeal. It's such a twisted yet intimate display but a shamless one given your status.

your attempt to pull away from the embrace is futile, Suguru only pulls you closer, and you'd be a foul to think you can match his strength.

"Suguru, we can't stay like this forever, come on you need to clean up before one of maids sees us like this"

Before one of the maids sees us, huh.

Your knight entertaines the idea for a moment, to be seen like this with you, this close and personal, your nonechallant reaction is just the cherry on top, already used to the knight's antics, he always acts like he has something to prove, as if he hadn't done enough of that already.

Suguru doesn't respond, he doesn't move from his position either, like a stubborn oversized guard dog, you have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to snap out of his love stick trance. The knight meets your eyes with his own pair, a devoted expression overtaking his visage. One that tells you he would throw himself back at the blood bath as many times as you ask.

"Let's get going. I need to change first. I don't want Utahime to worry"

Your lady in waiting is not going to like this one bit, for somone who fusses over the smallest paper cuts she detects on your fingers, she is not going to let this go no matter how much you explain.

Suguru's mood visibly sours, the smallest mention lf the servant woman bringing him back to reality. Suguru would love nothing more than to rid you of her, but you've made it abundantly clear that Utahime is off limits.

"Must you really mention her every time we are together, your highness? Am i not enough for you?"

You chuckle in response, and it's enough to bring his spirit back up. He takes both of your hands in his before giving them a squeeze, his lips follow soon after, pressing a long almost desperate kiss to the back of your hands, his thumbs linger on your knuckles long after he pulled his face away. Coating them with blood. Coating your soul with his love. His unconditional devotion.

An exasperated sigh from you is all it takes to bring him back on his feet, his smiles is fond, genuine, one of an innocent man, not suitable for a murderer.

"Shall we?"

He offers you his arm to hold, and you waste no time clinging to him. You don't get to do this anymore, you don't get to spend time with him like this, not when you're of marriageable age, not with all these little insects the king keeps sending your way, eager to have you married and out of his hair, something about inssuring the pure royal lineage before his majesty passes away, honestly suguru prays the old man gets on with it already, bite the bucket and leave you be. Suguru certainty won't shy away from spilling your father's blood if he kept causing you problems.

Suguru walks you to your powder room to clean up then to your chambers. Usually, you'd invite him inside for a late night cup of tea and a chat under the stars in your balcony. But the angry ravenette woman by the chambers door shooting daggers at your knight is enough to make you reconsider. It seems you'll have to cut your little midnight adventure short.

Utahime pulls you inside with a gentle hand on the small of your back. She closes the doors behind you both but not before throwing one last glare at the long-haired man. He stares back at her with just as much malice, something you don't see. Your lady in waiting rushes to over and begins to examine you, all while muttering incoherently under her breath.

"That senseless brute! I don't trust him one bit. Who does he think he is? Men can be such a pain! What did he want from you this late, your highness?"

Your sweet melodious laugh greets her ear and puts the woman at ease.

"All is well utahime, please don't worry"

Your hand finds her shoulder to rub soothingly, kind kind eyes meet her own, grounding her instantly, Utahime's tirade meets its end the second she gazes at you.

"He was just delivering something to me"

"A-at this hour?"

"Yup!" Your cheerful response leaves her speachless, utahime believes that no matter how much time you spend together, she will never be able to predict your antics.

And so she sighs.

"Your highness.....what am i going to do with you?" It's a light hearted question, never in a million years could she be upset with you.

"Yooouuuu could get us a glass of wine and join me in the balcony" you leave her no room to argue, making a B-line to the mentioned destination with a happy pep in your steps, mind clearly occupied. A moment later she joins you with a bottle of alcohol and a pair of stemware.

Under the moonlight Utahime clocks the blood under your finger nails.

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miainthestarsss · 6 months ago

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♯♡ Jealousy

Pairing: Enhypen¡Hyungline x fem¡reader

Synopsis: Enhypen¡Hyungline as your husband when they got drunk out of jealousy.

Content: mention of ex boyfriend, alcohol, jealousy, kisses, comfort, I don’t know what this is.

Heeseung:

You come home to find Heeseung slouched on the couch, a bottle of wine next to him, his usual calm demeanor nowhere to be found. His eyes lift lazily to yours, and there’s something off in his expression.

“Had fun tonight?” he mumbles, looking at you with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Yeah, I guess. It was just a work thing, nothing big,” you say, confused by his tone.

Heeseung scoffs softly, taking another sip from his glass. “That coworker of yours… he seemed to be enjoying himself though, huh?”

You blink in surprise. “What? Are you jealous? Heeseung, he’s just a colleague.”

Heeseung turns to face you fully, the frustration clear in his eyes, though his voice wavers. “I know that, but you were smiling at him like he was the funniest guy in the room. I couldn’t stop thinking… what if someone else makes you happier than I do?”

You move closer, sitting next to him and gently taking the glass from his hand. “Heeseung, you’re my husband. No one could ever replace you, let alone make me happier. Why didn’t you just talk to me instead of drinking alone?”

He rubs his temples, sighing. “I don’t know. I guess I was scared… and stupid. I just couldn’t help but feel jealous.”

You gently cup his face, making him meet your eyes. “You have nothing to be scared of, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re the only one I want.”

Jay:

When you walk into the house, you immediately notice Jay sitting at the dining table, a glass of whiskey in hand and a tense look on his face. You can feel the tension from across the room.

“Had a good time catching up with your friend?” Jay asks, not looking at you.

“It was fine,” you answer cautiously, setting your things down. “Why do you sound so upset?”

Jay finally turns to you, his eyes clouded with a mix of jealousy and something deeper. “I’m not upset,” he says, his tone betraying his words. “I just… couldn’t help but think about how you used to date that guy. And now you’re out there smiling and laughing with him like it’s no big deal.”

You sigh, walking over to sit across from him. “Jay, that was years ago. He’s nothing to me now but business partners. You know that, right?”

Jay laughs bitterly, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, I know. But seeing you with him… I don’t know. I got jealous. What if he still has feelings for you?”

“Jay,” you say softly, reaching out to take his hand, “you’re my husband. You’re the only one I want to be with. I wouldn’t have married you if I had any doubts about that.”

He looks down at your hands, his grip tightening slightly. “I just love you so much… I don’t want anyone else even thinking they still have a chance with you.”

You smile gently and move closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “No one does. You’re the only one I love.”

Jake:

When you come home, you find Jake sprawled out on the couch, a few empty beer bottles on the table. His usual bright expression is replaced with a lazy, slightly drunk smile.

“There she is,” he says, sitting up clumsily. “How was the party? Did your boyfriend keep you company?”

You furrow your brows, sensing the jealousy laced in his words. “Jake, it was just a work party. I wasn’t with him all night. And boyfriend? Guess you forgot to put ‘ex’. ”

Jake shrugs, his smile fading slightly. “Yeah, whatever, you guys were talking. Laughing, having a good time. I bet he was thinking about how he could have gotten you.”

You sit beside him, shaking your head. “Jake, you have nothing to worry about. He’s just a work colleague. That’s all.”

He reaches for your hand, his grip a little tighter than usual, his eyes reflecting the insecurity he’s feeling. “I know I’m being dumb, but… I don’t want to lose you. Not to anyone, especially someone from your past.”

You squeeze his hand gently, pulling him into a hug. “Jake, I’m not going anywhere. You’re my husband, and I love you. No one could ever take your place.”

He leans into you, sighing deeply as he wraps his arms around you. “Promise?”

You smile, kissing the top of his head. “Promise.”

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon’s sitting in the living room when you get home, sipping on a glass of wine. He looks calm, but the tension in his shoulders gives away the fact that something’s bothering him.

“Had a good time?” he asks, his voice quiet but pointed.

You sit down across from him, confused. “Yeah, it was fine. What’s going on, Sunghoon?”

He takes another sip of his wine before setting the glass down with a little too much force. “You were talking to that guy for a while. Looked like you were really enjoying yourself.”

Realizing where this was coming from, you lean forward. “Sunghoon, you’re not jealous, are you?”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away. “Why wouldn’t I be? He was looking at you like… like he could just take you away from me.”

You move closer, reaching out to take his hand. “No one can take me away from you. You’re my husband, and I love you. That guy? He doesn’t matter.”

Sunghoon’s eyes soften, though he still looks a bit unsure. “I know that… but it’s hard not to feel jealous. I just can’t stand the thought of someone else even imagining they could have you.”

You smile gently, cupping his face. “You don’t have to worry about that. I chose you, Sunghoon, and I’ll choose you every day.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes. “You better keep your promise.”

You press a kiss to his lips, smiling against them. “Yes, I will.”

#enhypen jay x reader #jay x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen x yn #heeseung x reader #enhypen jay x you #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #light angst #heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #sim jake #park sunghoon #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader

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oatmealwrites · 5 months ago

Text

Catch Kira, NOT Feelings! Ch.1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

L x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Ch.1 is finallllly done LMAO. This is probably gonna be a medium-long fic but I haven't quite decided yet so buckle up. Eventually some NSFW in later chapter but relative slow burn at the start.

word count: 5.1k

Synopsis:

As a graduate criminology student, you're more than ecstatic to jump at your mentor's offer to join the task force chasing down Kira. Mr. Yagami has prepared you for a successful career in the law and justice system, but with the public disappointment in the police's inability to catch Kira, finding a well paying job will be difficult. But a recommendation letter from L would open doors you can't even imagine. It's simple, you just have to catch Kira... NOT feelings.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Post time skip 1 - Aka Light in university now & helping the investigation. Just after ukita death)

November 4 -

You shift your weight from leg to leg inside the elevator, rehearsing your introduction and replaying the instructions from Mr. Yagami over and over again. The red LEDs indicate a higher and higher floor of the hotel and each second feels like an eternity passing.

“You’ll be fine Y/N. I’ve already worked it out with the task force, there’s no unnecessary expectation of you.”

You turn to Mr. Yagami and let out a slow exhale, feeling the pressure leave your lungs but the weight remaining on your shoulders.

“I know, it’s just big shoes to fill. Only the best are working with L to catch Kira.”

“Well Matsuda joined right away,” he replies, a small smirk on his lips, “If that makes you feel any better.”

You look down at your shoes and let out a light laugh, you’ve worked with Matsuda before. Interning under the Chief before he left the police force created lots of opportunities to work with lots of different officers. Matsuda was always one of your favorites.

“Ha, it kinda does. But he’s loyal and committed to the case-,”

“You are too. Don’t sell yourself short. I went through the interview with you regarding the risks in finding Kira and have seen your analysis take down a variety of other criminals. You have great potential to be an officer.”

Mr. Yagami gives you a paternal smile and his eyes hold nothing but honesty, “I’m glad to have you on this task force. I mean it.”

“Thank you,” a grateful tone leaves your lips and you can’t help but feel better at his compliments. It was a reassurance you needed to hear.

The elevator dings softly and the metal doors slide open with Mr. Yagami extending his arm over the sensor to allow your exit before his. As you step onto the plush carpet of the expensive hotel floor, a feeling of guilt washes over you. Mr. Yagami leads the way down the hall and you follow in silence, still comparing yourself to the other members of the task force.

While yes you were determined to catch Kira, the reasoning behind it wasn’t all about morality. To be honest you almost agreed with Kira at first - a new world where people who did wrong actually got punished compared to the slow and tedious bureaucratic pace of justice was appealing. Though after the killings of petty criminals and FBI agents, the resonance of Kira’s message faded to one of selfishness.

Though maybe I’m not much better. Truth be told, catching Kira was a priority for you ethically, but so were the very extensive benefits it offered. Being a graduate student in criminology and psychology there were very few jobs you could pursue upon graduation. That, combined with the over public disappointment in the very justice system you were about to work in, made finding a secure and well paying job almost impossible. But, if you could catch Kira and get a recommendation from someone like L on your CV? The possibilities would be endless.

The heel of your shoes has a muffled ‘click’ on the carpet as you walk behind Mr. Yagami and eventually reach a door near the end of the halfway. Almost no other room doors were present on this entire half of the hall, indicating this room was extremely large and extremely expensive to rent out.

Yagami gives you a small smile of encouragement and knocks a specific pattern before scanning a plastic room card and turning the knob. There’s a glow from the overhead ceiling lights that pour out of the room and into the hallway along with several hushed voices chatting just out of sight.

“I think we should review the – “

“Sshh.. I think Chief is back.”

You follow Mr. Yagami past the room entrance and enter what seems to be a penthouse hotel suite living room scattered with papers and boxes alike. A group of men stand around the coffee table and pause when you and Mr. Yagami walk further into the room.

Matsuda catches your eye and instantly smiles, “Woa, Y/N! I didn’t realize you were going to join us!-”

His expression is cut short when another man smacks him lightly on the back of the head, “Idiot! Wasn’t the first thing that L said to do was not reveal any names?”

Your eyes widen. These guys are serious.

Matsuda looks up at the man in worry and then at you apologetically, “Ah I’m sorry,” he scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to put you at risk there.”

You smile lightly and Mr. Yagami walks further into the room to pick up a few papers and scan them over, interested in what the group was working on before you two had arrived. “It’s fine Aizawa, L already cleared us all of being Kira. The only issue would be if Y/N was.”

The statement holds no threat of you actually being Kira but it’s enough to make you feel uneasy and the other members shift awkwardly. Has one of them already been suspected of being Kira? No way… not a member of the police surely?

You snap out of your thoughts and give a light bow to the group, “Hi everyone. My name is Y/N and I’m excited to join you all in the investigation to catch Kira. Let’s work well together.”

The group softens and smiles at your introduction and one by one introduces themself briefly. You already knew Matsuda, the man who scolded him was named Aizawa, and the tall man who was quietly skimming papers was named Mogi.

“This is a small group. You weren’t kidding Mr. Yagami when you said only the most committed are involved.” The statement has a light-hearted joke sense to it but no one moves to laugh.

Mogi shifts his weight awkwardly, “Well.. we actually lost a member, Ukita, not too long ago. Kira killed him.”

SHIT. You want to die right then and there. Kira if you can read my thoughts please strike me down too.

“Oh! Im so sorry I didn’t know-”

“It’s alright Y/N. We purposely keep super tight lips about everything and all our members. It makes sense you didn’t realize. But I hope this serves as a reminder of the gravity of the situation at hand. If you aren’t willing to die for this cause, I recommend you turn away now. You’re still young and have a lot of life ahead of you.”

You turn to Mr. Yagami and blink before shaking your head. A life ahead of me? I have no other career paths and no way to climb and earn a livable wage without doing this. I need this case and this recommendation.

“No- I want to do this. I want to be here. I want to catch Kira.”

The group’s tension dissipates and they all turn their attention back to the coffee table and it’s papers.

“Here,” Mogi starts, handing you a manila folder, “Watari dropped these off earlier. We should get started with the most Kira clues.”

You take the folder gently and sit on the edge of the armrest of the couch, skimming through the papers until a set of photographs tumble out. Gently closing the folder you reach down to retrieve the photos, only hesitating when you see the subject. Prisoner suicide notes.

Carefully you flip through each photo, quietly trying to take it all in. There’s four photos in total each numbered in the corner:

A male prisoner had stabbed himself in the cafeteria with a knife. His suicide note written on the back: “Theives deserve their punishment”

A male prisoner who was beaten to death in the prison yard. He had left a note in his cell: “Dead ends everywhere”

A male prisoner hanging himself with a note in blood on the wall behind him “The victims deserve justice”

A female prisoner who had jumped from the roof. Her suicide note written on the back: “Are you watching, L?”

You examine the photos and their suicide notes for a few minutes, your brows furrowed in focus. At first you lean over to the coffee table and place them all note-side up; after a moment you flip them over to show the images. A bead of sweat drips down the side of your face and you bite the edge of your thumb nail without realizing.

Before you can properly go through the rest of the contents of the folder, Matsuda speaks up, “Oh the photos? Those have stumped me all morning. But-!” He leans down to flip the images once again. He places them in the order 3,1,4,2. “In this order they say something. “The. Thieves. Are. Dead.”

You nod and look up at Matsuda, “Yes, in this order we can assume Kira is trying to convey a message to us.”

Something isn’t right; this feels off somehow.

You release the nail from your teeth and shake your head, eyes never leaving the images, “Yes we could, but it wouldn’t make any sense. Are all of these inmates thieves? Or is Kira referring to someone else?”

Matsuda looks at you wide-eyed and a bit embarrassed, “Oh, in the folder it mentions two of them were murderers now that you mention it..”

No, there’s something else wrong here.

You keep staring at the images, “it’s strange Kira would leave such a vague message with such a group. Mr. Yagami already informed me how Kira did his tests about the actions leading up to a death, so writing these notes would have some significance. But..”

You gently lift the images again, this time studying the attire of each inmate in the photos. “Each person is from a different jail. Their clothing and health state indicates they weren’t in the same prison system.”

Mogi leans over and shrugs, letting out a soft sigh, “why does that matter? Kira has killed from nearly every jail in the country at this point.”

You meet his gaze for a moment, “I mean this work is kinda sloppy. It’s obvious he didn’t do proper research on each prison.”

Mogi opens his mouth in slight shock, waiting for you to elaborate. You tilt your head and survey the image of the deceased female inmate, your eyes lingering on the background building of the prison. Without missing a beat you lift the photo to Mogi, “I mean this jail is only one floor. If you jumped 3.5m (11.5ft) maybe you’d break your ankle.” You stare at the image of the woman’s distorted body, “Not 4 ribs, both kneecaps, and skull.”

Mr. Yagami stares at the images over your shoulder in a mix of disbelief and awe; he places his hand on your shoulder supportively. Matsuda lets out a light gasp and takes the photo of the woman and looks at it incredulously with an audible ‘woa’.

You look up from the table and then at Mr. Yagami, “Are there any other fake Kira photographs in this pile?”

Before the chief can answer a voice rings out from the connecting bedroom door that is now swung open, “Naturally all of them were doctored for this test. But nice work Y/N. You solved that faster than I was expecting.”

The entire group turns to face him and you find yourself raising to your feet in respect. L.

Your eyes drift up and latch onto his; almost in a trance. Dark disheveled hair seemed to splay in every direction, covering where his eyebrows would be, and his awful posture rounded his back forward. His deep gray eyes and purple bags from lack of sleep contrasted the paleness of his skin. Rather than professional attire, baggy denim jeans hung low on his hips and an oversized henley draped his frame. He shifted his weight from side to side waiting for your response.

Any words paused in your mouth as you drank in the appearance of the man in front of you. Half of you was awestruck to see the famous detective you’ve only heard stories of in person; the other half was mentally scolding yourself to set some higher standards.

Maybe it’s because you spent too much time around men with pensions and none your own age. Yea. That’s it.

The bar really is in hell huh.

You swallowed any stupid remarks and extended your hand to him, “It’s nice to meet you, L.”

L looked at your hand apprehensively and slowly reached forward to complete the shake. The look on his face made it seem like he was forcing himself to shake your hand and only resolved into doing so just to be polite. Jerk. It’s not like my hands are dirty.

“Well, now that introductions are formally over, I have some other details on the Kira case I would like us to focus our attention on.”

L sauntered further into the room and slid the manila folder with the test photos and information to the side. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a senior-aged man appeared with a rolling cart containing paper boxes filled with miscellaneous files on the bottom and an arrangement of desserts and coffee cups on the top.

With a whisper of ‘thanks’, you gently lifted a mug from the cart and blew some steam away from the rim, lips hovering the ceramic. While L and Mr. Yagami began separating some of the files, you took a seat on the couch next to Matsuda, giving him a light elbow in the side.

“Hey, did you know that was a test?” You whispered.

Matsuda looked at you wide eyed, “What? No way! Ryuzaki never tells me anything when he plans stunts like that!”

You raise an eyebrow and turn to look at everyone else in the room, “Ryuzaki..?”

Your eyes stop when they meet L’s, who was staring at you as if he was involved in the conversation from the beginning. You avert your gaze awkwardly and turn your attention back to the warm mug in your hands, cheeks slightly warm. Most people look away when they get caught staring…

“My apologies for any confusion. I’ve told the group they can call me Ryuzaki or L during this investigation. Given that we know Kira needs a name and face to kill, it only makes sense.”

Mogi shifts in his seat with a slight tick in his eyebrow and mumbles lowly, “Yea as if you didn’t already know everything about us though.”

You turn to the man and then back at L, or Ryuzaki, or whoever, noticing the tension in the room.

“Ah I see.” You say lightly, trying to progress the conversation and go back to the main objective at hand.

With prolonged silence now hanging over everyone, you reach forward to grab two small sugar cubes and place them into your coffee before taking a sip. In your peripherals you can see Ryuzaki watching every movement of your hands but never saying anything. This time when you lock eyes he turns away first.

Mr. Yagami lets out a slight cough and begins passing folders out to everyone, “Alright enough small talk, these folders contain some of the tapes the Second Kira had sent to the news stations. Let's split into teams and see what we can cover.”

Placing the mug on the coffee table, you reached forward to grab a folder and flip through the contents.

“Lets have Mogi and Mr. Yagami compare the DNA found in forensics to what we currently have in the database. Matsuda and Y/N, please look at the transcriptions and real Kira suicide notes to look for any irregularities. Aizawa, please extend our list of contacts to include radio broadcasters as well,” Ryuzaki takes the hangnail on his thumb between his teeth while speaking, “We don’t know if the Second Kira has made contact with Kira #1… but there’s a chance they may get desperate and try other outlets of communication if they haven’t already. I’ll be reviewing the 4 different outcome tapes on the television if anyone needs my assistance. Ok?”

There’s a unified “yes!” after he finished speaking, the small teams immediately breaking off into separate sections of the hotel room.

You sit at the kitchen table of the vast suite, skimming your hands over various transcriptions, each one describing an unyielding obligation to the cause of Kira. You tilt your head and furrow your brows between the two documents in your hands.

“Hey Matsuda?”

“Hmm?”

“These two are completely different in terms of voice, grammar, everything..”

Matsuda looks up from his own set of papers and leans in over your shoulder, letting out an awkward laugh, “Oh I should have said this earlier- we actually wrote some of them pretending to be Kira in order to get the Second Kira talking. Why don’t we pile up the ones the team made and focus only on ones from Second Kira.”

Your mouth formed a small ‘O’ at his statement before nodding. Matsuda skims through the files, deftly collecting the papers of which the task force had authored into a neat pile and sliding you a different stack of notes to analyze. This time the stack included the real Kira authored suicide notes. You mutter a ‘thanks’ and go back to your position hovering over the table and straining your neck. For some reason you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to analyze the ones against the transcription the task force had authored. Just focus. You let out a breath and get to work.

****

After what seems like a few hours the group is called back into the main living room to discuss everyone’s progress. Mr. Yagami stands first, “Well the DNA on all the videotapes matches each other. It’s definitely the same person sending these.”

Mogi rubs his hand on the back of his neck with some frustration, “The DNA is in the police database; not for a criminal record but one regarding a victim of a crime. It may take some time before we can get approval to unseal the records… But at least we will know for sure who our suspect is within a few days; a week at max!”

The group hums with energy at the lead and Ryuzaki takes the nail of his thumb in between his lips again turning his attention to you.

Matsuda stands and points to a few lines on the paper, “We noticed a particular line about ‘showing notebooks in Aoyama’. It’s out of place and might be an indication that the Second Kira wants to use this as a meeting place.”

Ryuzaki nods and shuts his eyes, “I was thinking the same thing.. Now if there’s nothing else-”

“Wait.”

Ryuzaki opens his eyes and turns his attention back to you and Matsuda looks down with a slight puzzled expression.

You pick at your nails in nervousness for a moment and look at the group, “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions here but I noticed some similarities in the actual Kira suicide notes and the transcript you all had made..”

Mr. Yagami’s face pales and he stutters a few words out before Ryuzaki lifts his hand without even looking to silence him. The hangnail now forgotten, he leans in over the armrest of the couch only inches away from your face, as if he wanted to study every detail.

“Really? That’s very interesting Y/N please continue your reasoning,” his voice is the most energetic you’ve heard it.

The proximity makes you instinctively lean back until he closes the distance so far you have no more room to move. Almost smelling the scent of sweet coffee on his breath you nervously exhale and lift both the task force written transcript and a suicide note from Kira.

“The wording on the on the Kira suicide notes are very egotistical to me. It’s taunting like he’s one step ahead and in a position of earned authority,” you then tilt your head to the scripted video, “and this mentions about bestowing forgiveness. It’s an uncannily similar voice to a person in a position of power looking down on the recipient.”

Ryuzaki leans in almost a millimeter closer before sinking back into his seat with an eerie smile on his face. You hesitate, not putting either document down and seemingly staring back into the trance of his eyes.

“Isn’t that good though? Your ability to write an extremely good dupe..?” You're barely whispering it to Ryuzaki with your entire focus on him. His eyes don’t leave yours, and it feels like this is an entire conversation between just the two of you.

“Oh I didn’t write that.”

For a moment your eyes widen and the illusion of a private conversation comes crashing down around you. Before you can part your lips for clarification Mr. Yagami’s voice booms out from across the coffee table, “Enough of this Ryuzaki! I thought you invited Light to this investigation for him to help us!”

Light?

You were well acquainted with the Yagami family, having spent nearly the same amount of time with them as your own household. Light was extremely intelligent, well spoken, and borderline perfect at everything he did; it makes sense Ryuzaki would want him working this case.

Though where was he? You scanned the room quickly from your seat. Oh yea, class. An unfortunate situation you could relate to, considering you had a 9am lecture tomorrow morning and it was already 8pm.

“I did invite him for his help. I just find Y/N’s observation extremely interesting. I’m aware this situation makes you uncomfortable, but having now a second person make a connection raises my suspicion of him to 10%.”

“He was writing that note while trying to sound like Kira. Don’t you think questioning him for doing his task well is a bit much?”

Your head was beginning to hurt. Light was a suspect of being Kira? It didn’t make any sense, surely there had to be a mistake. You turned your attention back to the conversation between Mr. Yagami and Ryuzaki, noting the intensity of fire in each of their eyes. They were being serious? I guess that makes sense as to why L wanted to test me when I first came in. And why the group seemed so uneasy at the earlier mention of one of them being Kira.

“You’ve probably filled in the gaps haven’t you?”

Your eyes shoot up to meet Ryuzaki’s, the distance between your faces short, but not nearly as close as he was earlier. Unconsciously, you lick your bottom lip with a slight stress on your face and nod slightly.

Mr. Yagami sighs and sinks into his seat, his head cradled by his left hand. The group looks around each other awkwardly and Ryuzaki lets out a sigh of exasperation which indicates they’ve all had this conversation before.

“Let’s take a slight reccess please? Y/N you should probably start heading home for your classes tomorrow.”

You look up at Mr. Yagami, and the group mumbles in agreement, slowly standing up and stretching.

“Nice work today rookie. Can’t wait to see what you figure out next,” Mogi says genuinely while placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

You grin up at him and wave bashfully, it wasn’t like you solved the case. Yet. You could practically hear his recommendation letter now and the thought of it was enough to spark some energy.

As the group shuffled out to take either vending machine or smoke breaks, you noticed Ryuzaki staring at you while you slipped your jacket over your shoulders. He was usually staring at you anyways, but this one was different; before you could even raise an eyebrow he stood up and walked to the bedroom door. Glancing at you once before slipping inside.

With a quick scan of your surroundings to make sure no one was watching, you casually walked over to door and stepped inside as if it were the exit. The bedroom in question was barely a bedroom at all. A desk stacked with hundreds of papers sat by the window, bookshelves lined the walls, and the floor was littered with evidence boxes. The only thing that made it a bedroom was the king size bed made neatly and untouched against the wall jutting into the center of the room.

Ryuzaki was standing at the desk, digging through a box mumbling to himself about if ‘Watari had moved it’ before pulling out a small cellphone and turning to you.

“Ah, I’m glad you got my signal.”

Signal? He stared without blinking and then casually walked into another room. It wasn’t so much as following a signal as it was making sure he wasn’t having a stroke.

“Yea, is there something you wanted to speak about?”

Ryuzaki looked at the door and then motioned for you to come closer; which you obediently did without even a second guess. Only inches apart he studied your face again, “I’m glad you picked up on that note sounding a little too authentic. The very notion drives Mr. Yagami up the wall.”

You nod, “I mean it makes sense, it’s not exactly a light accusation.”

Ryuzaki follows your words and then twitches as if he were re-listening to them; only catching the joke on the third time through. A small smile cracks his face and he tilts his head to the side, “Yes I agree. Being accused of Kira is a heavy burden, especially considering the life in prison sentence or death penalty when caught.”

The air deflated out of you.

You suck in a breath defeated, “Yep.. so why exactly did you call me in here?”

“I needed to speak in private,” Ryuzaki gnaws at his bottom lip with his canines and then locks eyes with you again, “What I’m about to ask needs to remain between us.”

Immediately your eyes widen and heat rushes to your face. The proximity of him seems to magnify everything and a warm feeling began to brew in your lower abdomen. The low lighting of the room, the intimate whisper of his voice, and the large king bed in your peripheral skewed any assumption of what he was about to say next.

I need to go out and touch grass. Call some friends, go on a date, do something. This guy is a total weirdo and I’m standing here shaking like fucking teenager.

You nod, not wanting to even speak and risk the shakiness of your voice being heard by him.

“You go to the same school as Light, correct? I’d like you just to keep an eye on him while you’re both on campus if that’s alright.”

You look from one eye to the other, taking a moment to pause and reflect on his proposal. The length of your hesitation was enough to make L backtrack slightly, “If you’re uncomfortable with that I completely underst-”

“I’ll do it.”

His eyes widen and blink twice before a small smile breaks his lips again, “I’m glad. I don’t have much time to go to campus or classes anyways so it’ll be nice to have to monitor him while I stay here.”

You nod in understanding before double taking at his words, “Wait do you go there too?”

Ryuzaki now fiddles with the cellphone in hands, typing rapidly and not bothering to look up, “Hm? Oh yes I entered the school to keep track of Light, but I won’t need to follow him around there if you’re willing to help me.”

You swallowed, noting the way he casually mentioned going to the university you were initially rejected from as if you asked him the weather.

Before you can mumble anything under your breath, Ryuzaki gently takes your hand in his and flips it to be facing palm-up. With his hand still on your wrist, the other places a cellphone into the palm and he looks at you intently.

“It’s important to note that on the off-chance Light really is Kira, it means he’s willing to risk killing to protect himself. I have emergency belts for everyone, but I’d also like you to have this.”

His hand falls to his side after a moment of them lingering a beat too long and he takes half a step back; turning to face his desk but not looking at anything in particular.

You click a few buttons on the phone and notice the way he had already placed his contact information into the device. A small grin grazes your lips and you slip the phone into your back pocket, “This way I can text information without sending a SOS? Plus it probably looks more natural anyways.”

Ryuzaki turns back to you, his hands firmly at his sides like they weren't just around your own, “Exactly. Besides, Light will learn you work with us shortly and he’ll start being on guard. If he thinks that cellphone is your personal one, he won’t think twice about you using it in front of him casually.”

A wave of excitement washes over you, fieldwork was always your favorite and this felt like a borderline James Bond movie.

“You got it!”

Ryuzaki pulls out his own cellphone from his baggy denim pocket and begins typing into it, “I’ll have Watari drive you home tonight. Would you like an escort to class tomorrow?” His eyes briefly look into yours with an emotion that could almost be described as hope. Almost.

Instinctively you raise your hands, “No that’s alright. I can just take the metro.”

Ryuzaki nods curtly but you continue, “But if you can arrange a ride after my classes to here that would be nice.”

His eyes hold yours for a moment and he turns away to his desk, this time walking up to the wooden drawers and digging through them, “Alright. I’ll tell Watari, just send your course schedule when you have the moment.”

Ryuzaki never turns back around and after a few moments of an awkward silence you spin to leave the room without either of you saying a word. The weird intimacy of the moment left you feeling an emotion you couldn’t quite pin point.

After saying your goodnights to the group and following Watari to the black luxury Sedan in the parking lot, the image of a warm shower and snuggling into bed seemed to be calling your name. Shoes clicking on the ground, you slid into the seat of the opened passenger door Watari had opened and watched him walk around to get into the driver’s seat.

Quickly telling him your address you found yourself staring out the window and for a split second, seeing the figure of a man watching you from the penthouse suite you had just exited. But by the time you blinked he was gone; the only thing pulling you from your thoughts was the slight buzz from your back pocket of the phone Ryuzaki had given you.

Ryuzaki:

Please be careful tomorrow. Let me know if anything goes wrong.

#fanfic #death note #l x reader #lawliet #lawliet x reader #l x yn #lawliet x yn #oatmealwordslawliet #L #light yagami #misa amane

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fanged-fanfics · 5 months ago

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Hello! I hope you’re doing good! I’m not sure if this has been done yet, but I got an idea for a fluff (possibly a pinch of angst?) scenario!:

Any, all or two of the traffic light trio sillies (Mei, Red Son, MK), with an s/o GN!reader that’s an experienced healer who takes care of them after a tough battle against a monster of your choosing. Maybe they have a heartfelt conversation afterwards, or during the process of patching them up, about getting themselves in danger for the sake of saving the world? 👀

Been thinking a lot about this since s5 lmao. Haven’t fully recovered yet 💀

🍜💛 Healing a Trio —🐉💚 Traffic Light Trio x GN Healer!Reader HCs 🔥❤️

Genres: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜🐉🔥୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ . ݁˖

- It had been a fight with a huge hawk demon, one that MK was pretty confident he could take, especially cause Mei could use her bike to move closer to the threat. Red Son was roped in by circumstance, begrudgingly working with the heroes to defeat the threat. The attack was a surprise, so there wasn't much the Trio was prepared to do. Once it finally ended, they were sufficiently scratched, scuffed, battered, and bruised

- The three had come to you a little hesitantly. They didn't like feeling like they were bothering you, especially because these always ended in some deep conversations about the nature of self-sacrafice and priorities. When you'd opened your door to the three and allowed them in without many questions, they filed in, MK and Mei attempting lighthearted jokes right off the bat to diffuse tension

- MK, for as much as he gets hurt, sucks at getting patched up. He hisses and writhes if the topical medicine stings, yelping and whining at the unpleasant sensations. He's a very dramatic patient, but a very talkative one as well

- He tells you about the fight, reassuring you that he already remembers the conversations you'd both had before about these things. He's not exactly happy having to sit still while getting bandaids and bandages applied, but he's obviously still proud of his victory

- He's more quiet when you're closer, focusing on the feeling of your hands on his skin, the gentle and reliable touch providing a sense of safety and warmth. He feels his heart swell seeing the determined expression you have while working, and little flutters when you occasionally banter back. This routine between you was familiar, it was comforting. He felt safe under your care

- Mei, meanwhile, is also a pretty passionate speaker, but much less of a whiner than MK. Her problems are mostly just squirming from being hyperactive and wound up on adrenaline, frequently trying to hop off of your workbench to demonstrate a move

- Your gentle chastising with Mei is unique, specifically taking time to address how she feels being on the sideline of missions these days, and having to hold things together for MK most of the time. She feels like she can have that full honesty with you, your complete confidentiality and understanding helping to hold her together

- She flirts with you more openly than the other two. Any time you're close enough, she points out something about your face to compliment. She offers to help you do small things, asking questions about your job and what kinda stuff you see outside of the Monkey Crew

- Red Son, like the others, is a talker. His ramblings are closer to ranting and raving, and outside of waving his arms or doing grand dramatic gestures, he's more still than the other two

- Conversations about his family are what come up most often, when he isn't bragging about his villainy or latest attacks on the town. More recently he's been talking a lot about working as a food vendor. It's nice to see him happy about something that doesn't come from malicious intent

- He allows himself to show past his anger and be more vulnerable with you. He's a hint softer, a little more willing to be honest and open with you. He loves your willingness to do this for them, and he tells you frequently how much he admires you and your work

- The three usually stick around for a few hours after each appointment, talking with you and telling you about everything you my have missed in their lives. They treasure their individual time with you, and Mei and MK especially try to hype you up all the time to show their thanks

- They invite you out every once in a while to have some hangouts without medicine or injury in the picture. They introduce you as a vital member of the team to others and get protective of you during battles

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miyamoratsumuu · 9 months ago

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mane 6? more like the main 12!

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE! WE'LL BE WORKING TOGETHER FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR, MIGHT AS WELL GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER"

5 ⭐'S !!!

MS. Y/N'S FAV CAST‼️💯

LIGHTS, CAMERA, READY? LOVE ME!

ˎˊ˗ director y/n l/n, given the career she has, is a know-it-all when it comes to romance films. she's the best at executing and handling the cliches, plot twists, and narratives that come with them. so why is it that she was rendered clueless on what to do when anonymous love letters were constantly scattered around set and addressed to her?

ˎˊ˗ LIGHTS, CAMERA, READY? LOVE ME! masterlist

ˎˊ˗ a/n: in honor of my indecisive self finally settling on the chapter titles and this series starting this week, here are the profiles!!! 😋

(yes the title of this is an mlp reference I'm sorry i can't help it </3)

ˊ˗ taglist under the cut: open!! (reply or send an ask to be added<3)

@lunatiqez @rueclfer @the-hangry-otter @lainlovelain @dizzydreamerz

@maddie-rose-1 @iloveroblox48 @mylahrins @kovu-bunnbunn @daetko

@lounaticcc @justtryintolivebro @whosmiadotcom @wheezdostuff @miliondollagirl

@h0n3y-l3m0n05 @y2kmo @sourbbyxo @cherryvbomb @ipoopedmypants47

@blue-violin @rvoulte

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theangelbabies · 8 months ago

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𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑹.

♡𝑻𝒐𝒎 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕.

- summary : You give Tom all your love and loyalty but 𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌.

- warnings : toxic relationship, mentions of abuse (mostly mentally), strong language, let me know if there’s anything i missed.

Inspired by Lana del rey song.

Your relationship with Tom was quite.. interesting, but mostly destroyed and intoxicated by Toms behaviour. He was always toying with you. Playing cold and warm with you, as if he never took your relationship seriously. You never really noticed it because of your blind love for him. No matter how much you fought, he always found a way to manipulate you into thinking it was your fault.

You were always supportive of him. Always loved him even when he told you about his Dark Lord fantasies and plans. Tom on the other side was more possessive than supportive of you. You were that much into the rabbit hole, that you lost all your friends. He always controlled EVERYTHING in your life, and whenever you would talk with a boy, he would know even when he was not around.

You were sitting in the backyard, repeating your studies to your exam that you had in two hours when a year younger Ravenclaw boy tapped you on your shoulder.

“Hi, sorry for bothering you but i’m new here and i have potions now. I don’t really know where the class is and i just wanted to ask where is the classroom?” - He asked.

You turned to face him and looked around to see if there’s no one else to help him because you knew that Tom had his followers all around the school and you didn’t want to risk anymore arguments with him.. to your luck you were the only one sitting there.

“Umm, there is a really complicated way.. so i guess i can take you there..” - You replied with no enthusiasm at all. The boy noticed it and started saying that saying that it’s okay and he’ll find his way but you already risked it so you just started walking with the boy right behind you. Walking there the Ravenclaw started a few small conversation but you tried to stay silent as much as you could. All the way you could only think how fucked up it was that it’s possible that you can’t even talk or just show a boy that was younger than you a way to potions class without being paranoid about your boyfriends little slaves snitching to their lord on you. Once you were there you noticed you have enough time to get to your class, so you quickly said bye to the boy that thanked you and went to the class. The same time you turned when the boy disappeared into the classroom, Tom appeared in front of you. Great.

“Darling, care to explain.. how was that boy that you walked all the way from backyard, here?” - He said with scarily calm voice that announced anything but good.

You looked up at him with lovely, big eyes. “He was new, a grade lower and there was no one else to-“ You didn’t get to finish your explanation because Tom stared dragging you around the corner into an empty hallway. You could hear your heart beating out of your chest and eyes slightly watering. You could say you were used to it but you also knew that he IS capable of everything. Pinning you to the wall with a forceful grip on your forearm.

“Y/n don’t fucking lie to me. I knew there were people around that he could fucking ask. He saw you as pray and you fell for it. As you always do, for everyone.” - Tom argued while tightening his grip om your arm. Hot teras fell from your eyes on your flushed cheeks. You looked down shamefully with pouty lips while already sniffing.

“Why’re you crying? It’s your own fault. I told you, i showed you already what happens when you disobey me and my requests that i politely asked you to not fucking talk with any boy, yeah?” - He said with a smirk on his face. “I think i should remind you because you seem to like it.”

“Those weren’t requests, more like demands…” - You said quietly but of course Tom heard it. Suddenly he grabbed you roughly by the throat, cutting off any way for you to breathe normally.

“What was that!? You’re really that kind of whore to still argue with me when i’m trying to explain this whole thing but as always you’re making it hard.” - Tom yelled while you were sobbing, trying to catch a breath. Yet you still looked up at him with an apologetic look.

“I-i’m sor-sorry Tommy..-“

“Don’t ‘Tommy’ me right now. You’re fucking done. We’re done, don’t ever let me see you again.” …

“𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈?” - Tom said in the final, pushing you onto the floor.

You curled yourself while catching a breath. Yet you still wanted to go after him and try to explain everything when you’re sitting there sobbing uncontrollably watching him storm away with clenched fists.

After some time of sitting there the realisation started to hitting you. You know he’s only 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒅. You know he is going to come back to you, all loving and acting like he doesn’t see the poorly concealer covered his hand bruise.

This time you wanted to promise yourself that you’re not gonna let him back in and won’t give him anything because 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂𝒍𝒍 all your love, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂𝒍𝒍 of yourself until he makes 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆. Yet you know you’re going to fall for his manipulations again, again and again. It’s like never ending cycle.

･:*+.\˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'

Thats ittt!! Hoped you liked it. Sorry for any mistakes or if some parts are maybe a little confusing but it’s my first time writing any long fic. If you have any requests or fic ideas let me knoooww!!! Love yall <3

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #harry potter x yn #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #x reader #imagine #one shot #angst #light angst #tom riddle smut #lana del rey #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #lana stan

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ssapotter · 3 months ago

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Puzzle Pieces | Mattheo riddle x yn

cw: briefly mentioning mh, little fluff, angst (kinda), angry love confession, kissing

Sooo I found this scenario I wrote in dec of 2023 anddd figured if there’s anywhere imma put it..it’s here. I don’t write or anything and I’m sure the grammar is horrible so go easy on me😭😭😭😭

You and Mattheo had been enemies since the beginning of time, but everyone knew it was just a disguise for the feelings you two shared. Of course oblivious to the both of you.

You were up at the astronomy tower, sitting down with your back against the stair railings. It’s such a beautiful place that calms you, but currently you’re overwhelmed by everything around you— school, friends, your mental health, just life.

Staring blankly into the stars ahead as tears slowly fall down your cheeks, you suddenly hear footsteps close to you. Your body tenses as you look to your left, seeing the last person on your mind, but you knew that was a lie.

Quickly in one motion you turn in the opposite direction to wipe the tears off your face, “fuck off Riddle I’m not in the mood” you say as you get up to leave. You’re about to pass him but Mattheo moves to stand in your way towering over you, “what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” he says with genuine concern in his eyes. “It’s none of your business, why would you care anyway” you say conflicted, does he really care? You thought to yourself.

You turn and walk to the opposite side of the tower and lean against wall with your arms crossed around your chest. Avoiding eye contact you look towards the stars attempting to not feel his burning gaze. You turn your focus to him, his hands in his pockets as he tries to figure you out.

However you can’t look at him much longer without feeling weak. You take a few steps to the railing putting your hands on the bar, looking out to the black lake as the moon illuminates it. Mattheo walks over next to you mimicking your movements, minutes pass without any communication just the two of you standing there.

Though quiet it didn’t feel awkward or forced, his presence calmed you, you hated it. However all Mattheo could do is stare at you as the moonlight enhanced every single one of your features. He’d never seen you like this, casual clothes, no makeup, and especially not this vulnerable. This new side of you made him want you even more, he didn’t think you could be more stunning but somehow you proved him wrong once more.

“Why do you wear makeup?” Mattheo says suddenly, the question catching you off guard. “Well..no matter what I’ll never look good, so I guess I wear it just to look a little less worse” you say continuing to look out at the stars. “For what it’s worth, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen” he says. You look up at him in shock as he admires you. Your heart flutters not to mention the sight of him, but you know this truly isn’t real, this is Mattheo Riddle we’re talking about, you know how this really goes. Out of everyone in hogwarts he would never…and beside he hates me, you think to yourself.

You snap your head back try to contain yourself, gripping to the railing as you look down, “I hate you” you say. “What?” Mattheo says confused. “I said i hate you” you say louder, “Y/n what the fuck is your problem?” Mattheo replies now fully turned towards you. Tears start to fill your eyes looking at him, “You. You are my fucking problem! I hate you! I hate your pretty eyes and your stupid smile and how contagious your laugh is and how thoughtful you are and I hate you! I hate you for make me love you! And..I hate that you’ll never feel the same” , “god” Mattheo says as he rubs one of his hands on his face. Gently he grabs the sides of your face, “I hate to see that you’re so stupid to think I don’t feel the same. I hate that you think I haven’t felt this way since the second I saw you. Y/n..I love you too”

The same time you put your hands on Mattheos sides he pulls you in and finally connects your lips together. The kiss is soft but passionate, full of pent up emotion finally escaping.

It’s perfect, your lips fit like puzzle pieces meant to be.

#mattheo riddle #fan fiction #mattheoriddle x yn #mattheo riddle x reader #light angst #harry potter #shifting #one shot #shifting scenarios #first time writing #enemies to lovers #slytherin boys #shifting motivation #mattheo riddle fanfic

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latin5mamii · 9 months ago

Note

this might be a bit random but jude loses a super important match and the reader is best friends with someone on the opposite team (like known the other player her whole life) and jude sees them celebrating, and he’s like upset

Feelings - Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: angst but ends up well |SUMMARY: Celebrating with your best friend can have consequences... |AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by Euros final, hate writing angst

94th minute and the match was over.

Your boyfriend’s team lost and of course you were sad for him, but your childhood best friend's team won.Life’s unfair, isn’t it?

The reality is that now your best friend wanted to celebrate with you, because you’ve always been a part of his life, but of course you were worried about your boyfriend’s reaction, you know, watching your girlfriend celebrate with the team you just lost against isn't the best thing to see after an important loss, for him and for England.

In fact he was terribly mad at you.Your laughter, your smile.All of that hurt him, but it wasn’t really your fault.

You were just supporting your best friend’s match, the one that you knew from the moment you were born, your childhood friend.

But unfortunately you were also supporting the team that made your boyfriend’s team lose.

You saw Jude standing on the sidelines, his shoulders slumped, a deep frown etched on his face. The sight of him like that broke your heart. You knew how much this match meant to him. But before you could approach him, your best friend,Nico, pulled you into a hug, lifting you off the ground in his joy.You couldn’t help but laugh, sharing in his happiness for a moment.

But as your eyes met Jude’s across the field, you saw the hurt in his gaze. He turned away sharply, heading towards the locker room. Guilt washed over you, and you gently pulled away from your friend.

“Nico, I need to go check on Jude,” you said softly.Nico’’s smile faltered, but he nodded in understanding.

“Of course. I’ll see you later?” he asked.

You nodded, giving him a quick hug before making your way towards the locker room. You found Jude sitting on a bench, his head in his hands. The room was silent except for the soft sounds of his labored breathing.

“Jude…” you began tentatively, stepping closer.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and anger.”Y/N, what the fuck?Are you fucking serious?”

“Jude, I wasn’t celebrating their win over you. I was happy for Nico. He’s my best friend,” you tried to explain, reaching out to touch his arm.

He pulled away, standing up abruptly. “Don’t fucking touch me.It’s the team that made us lose, and then, i try to find you and i see you hugging that man all smiling and laughing?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Jude.But i’m here for you now”

He’s now watching at you, like he’s surprise of the words you just said.”Do you understand that you made me look like an idiot in front of my teammates and everyone in the fucking world?Take your fucking responsibility for what you did.”

“I did!I’m here talking to you and I'm trying to fix this”You knew that Jude really cared about his matches, and him being so hard on you really broke your heart.He wasn’t responding to you,he didn’t even look at you.Tears rolled up your eyes as you got closer to him,hugging him from behind and begging for him to forgive you.

“Jude, please… I never meant to hurt you. I love you so much. Please forgive me,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He stood still for a moment before slowly turning around to face you. His eyes softened slightly as he saw the tears streaming down your face. “Oh..don’t cry sweetheart”

He holds you slowly but very carefully. You hug each other as you cry on his shoulder. You can say you saw tears on his face too.

"I'm sorry, it's just that losing is difficult and seeing you there with him, it only hurt me more"

"I'm so sorry" You say holding him even tighter.

"It's okay, I forgive you. I shouldn't have been so strong on you."

"I deserved it." He chuckles at your expression, short and to the point. He can feel all your remorse in this sentence.

"No, you just wanted to be nice and I only resented you for losing."

A small moment of silence advances after this sentence, remaining embraced.

"How about we go home?"

#jude bellingham fanfic #x reader #fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #angst with a happy ending #light angst #jude bellingham angst #sadgirl #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham #yn fanfic #x you #x you angst #requests open #request

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melekhsn · 3 months ago

Text

on&off

when your situationship with eren hits another off phase, a chaotic night out leads to a desperate call. jealousy, unspoken feelings, and tension unravel in the quiet hours of the night.

wc: 1071

cw: alcohol consumption, toxic relationship dynamics, angst and jealousy

the clock read 2:37 am, and the apartment was silent. next to eren lay a woman whose name he hadn’t even bothered to remember. her perfume was heavy and sweet, lingering in the air—a reminder of her clear intentions tonight. but he hadn’t reciprocated. even in his sleep, he had turned his back to her, keeping as much distance as possible without falling off the bed. he was here, physically, but his mind was elsewhere. with someone else.

the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence, making him flinch. his hand fumbled for the device, and when he saw the name on the screen, his breath hitched: y/n.

his heart rate spiked, and without a second thought, he picked up. “y/n?” his voice was hoarse, still heavy with sleep.

“eren?” her voice was muffled, drowned by loud music and the chaotic background noise of people laughing and shouting. he could hear her breathing, as if she was trying to escape the commotion. “can you… can you come get me?”

“where are you?” he was fully awake now, sitting up straight, his focus razor-sharp.

“i don’t know exactly… somewhere near this club, um… blue light?” her words were slurred, her speech lazy. “i lost my bag. my keys… my wallet. everything’s gone.”

before he could respond, a male voice in the background chimed in: “you can crash at my place, no problem.

eren’s stomach twisted, a sharp pang of jealousy and anger cutting through him. “who the hell was that?” he growled.

“what?” y/n sounded confused.

“the guy offering you a place to stay,” eren snapped, his tone sharper now.

“eren, calm down,” she murmured. “he’s just being nice.”

“he can be nice and still back the fuck off,” eren spat. he swung his legs off the bed, grabbing his jeans and pulling them on hastily. “stay where you are. i’m coming to get you.”

“eren, you don’t have to—

“i’m coming,” he interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument. he hung up before she could respond, throwing a glance at the woman in the bed. she stirred, lifting her head groggily.

“what’s going on?” she mumbled.

“i have to go,” he said curtly, snatching his keys before walking out the door.

eren parked in front of the club, his heart pounding as his eyes scanned the crowd. the street was loud and chaotic, filled with the smell of alcohol, smoke, and cheap perfume. he stepped out of the car and pushed through the throng of people, his gaze sweeping the sidewalk until he found her.

she was sitting on a bench, arms wrapped around herself, her head slightly bowed. the black dress she wore hugged her figure perfectly, and her converse sneakers looked oddly out of place with the outfit, yet so distinctly her. she looked exhausted, vulnerable.

“y/n,” he called, and her head shot up. her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly swollen. she smiled faintly when she saw him, but it quickly faded as he approached.

“you smell like perfume,” she stated bluntly, her words slightly slurred.

eren froze for a second, his gaze flickering over her. a faint trace of cologne hung around her, a scent that didn’t belong to him. his stomach churned. “and you smell like some guy,” he shot back quietly, his voice tense.

“calm down,” she murmured as she stood, her movements unsteady. “it’s nothing.”

his jaw tightened as his eyes darted to her lips. “yeah? then what about your lips?”

she hesitated, her eyes dropping briefly. “it was just a kiss.”

he laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and humorless. “just a kiss,” he repeated as he stepped closer. “you disappear, do your own thing, and i’m supposed to just… not care? because it was just a kiss?”

“what do you want me to say, eren?” she snapped, her voice shaky but defiant.

“i want…” he stopped himself, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. his chest felt heavy, his mind racing with everything he couldn’t bring himself to say. “i just want you to stop being so reckless.”

“reckless?” she let out a bitter laugh, her hands balling into fists. “you’re calling me reckless? you’re the one who sleeps with other women, and i’m supposed to justify a stupid kiss?”

“that’s different,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

“oh, really?” she stepped closer now, her eyes burning into his. “because you get to decide what matters and what doesn’t?”

he didn’t respond, the words caught in his throat. instead, he reached for her hand, his grip firm but gentle, as he pulled her closer. “just come with me. please.”

she stared at him, her chest rising and falling quickly as if she was holding back tears. finally, she nodded silently, and he led her to his car.

the silence in the car was suffocating. y/n sat curled into herself, her head leaning against the window. eren gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, his thoughts a chaotic mess.

she had kissed someone else. that shouldn’t have hurt him; it shouldn’t have mattered—they weren’t exclusive. he’d made that clear from the start. but the thought of someone else touching her, even for a second, tore him apart.

“why did you call me?” he finally asked, his voice rough and strained.

“because i knew you’d come,” she murmured without looking at him.

that hit him harder than he expected. his grip loosened, and he glanced at her briefly. “i’ll always come,” he muttered. “but you’re making this really fucking hard, y/n.”

she turned her head to look at him, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “you’re not exactly making it easy for me either, eren.”

his jaw clenched, but he said nothing. sometimes, words just weren’t enough.

when they reached his apartment, he carried her up the stairs, her arms loosely draped around his neck. he laid her down on his bed, pulling a blanket over her, and stood there for a moment, watching her.

“you’re driving me insane, you know that?” he murmured softly.

“good,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible as she closed her eyes. “now you know how i feel.”

eren stared at her for a moment longer before sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. she was the only person who could break him like this – and he hated how much he loved her for it.

#eren fanfiction #aot x reader #eren jaeger #eren x reader #x reader #self insert #toxic relationship #on and off #situationships #alcohol #light angst #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #jealousy #x yn

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louloulemons-posts · 2 years ago

Text

Tea and Toast

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Eddie shows up at your house in the middle of the night.

Word Count : 1.1k

Warnings : Not proofread, another 2am fic, angsty, happy ending?, reader isn’t described with any pronouns or psychical features, Eddies dad, Eddie gets hurt, physical assault, talks of Eddies mom, sad Eddie, cuts and bruises, reader takes care of him.

A/N : This one is a heavy one, so please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Baby,” you hear, brain foggy with sleep. Whining in reply, you try to block out the noise. “Sweetheart,” you feel your body being shook.

You’re awake, rubbing your eyes, to wake up your mind. Looking around in the darkness you find Eddie. “Hey,” you say, voice thick with sleep.

Pushing up, you look at him, leaning over to your lamp. He stops your hand. “Eds?”

“Just leave it off.”

“What are you doing here, thought you weren’t coming over tonight?”

“I know, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come.” He stood from your bed, but you pulled him back gently.

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” you said softly. You pulled him closer to you, “But I know you, and I know you wouldn’t show up at,” you paused and looked at your clock, “2am, randomly without a reason.”

“I couldn’t stay there,”his voice broke.

“What?” you instantly become concerned.

“Im sorry I didn’t know where else to go. He showed up and Wayne’s at work and I-I couldn’t,” his breathing sped up.

“Hey, hey slow down it’s okay. You’re safe,” you pulled him into your arms. Rubbing his back and playing with his curls the way you know he loved. “It’s okay Sweet boy, I’ve got you.”

Slowly you felt him calm down. “My dad,” he began, you didn’t rush him, “I got back from dropping you home and he was at the entrance of the trailer park.

“Wanted to talk to me. To Wayne. Started yelling, saying we ruined his life, his reputation. I tried to get him to leave but he wouldn’t … a-and then … then he um ..”

“Baby did he hurt you?” you asked carefully, not wanting to overwhelm him. He nodded into your neck, letting out a sob. “I-if he wasn’t being so loud, and the neighbours didn’t come out … I just shut down … just like I used too.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“One of the guys at the front of the park threatened to call the cops and he bolted.”

“Cause he’s a coward,” you didn’t like bad mouthing people, but Al Munson was the worst.

“Eddie my love, will you let me see your face?” you softly kissed the top of his head and he nodded, sniffling. Pulling back slightly, but not letting go, you turned on your lamp.

Looking at his face, tears came to your own eyes, “Oh my baby, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” leading him to your bathroom, you pulled out your first aid kit.

His lip was popped, the side of his face bruised, he had a black eye coming and his eye brow was cut. “Can you sit here for me?” you motioned to the closed toilet. He sat on the lid silently.

Making your way to stand between his legs, “This is gonna sting,” you spoke, antiseptic wipe in hand. He hummed, you tried to be as careful as possible, touching his eyebrow, but he let out a hiss.

“Sorry, oh I’m sorry baby. I know it hurts.”More tears fell but you knew it wasn’t out of pain, well not physically, this was in his heart. “Why does he hate me?” he sobbed, resting his head on your stomach.

“Because he’s an awful person. You are everything he could never be. You are kind and loving and sweet and gentle. He is a mean man, a broken man.”

“H-he said it was my fault mom-“

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare listen to him, it was not your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“B-but he said-“

“I know, but that is because he is a broken man who never learnt how to deal with his emotions. He didn’t talk about your mom and took out all his feelings on you, but Eds you were a baby.

“You were your moms pride and joy, she would hate the way he’s treated you. You have such a good heart and soul, and you honour your mom everyday by being so strong and kind,

“The way you look after Wayne, the kids, me. She’d be so proud. So please do not listen to a thing that nasty man says.”

He calmed in your hold, still holding you tightly. “I love you, thank you for being here,” he said, pulling away from your tummy, his face now splotchy and swollen with tears.

“I will always be here. I love you so much.” You kissed his lips softly, not wanting to hurt him anymore. “Tell you what, if you’re feeling up to it in the morning, we can go and talk to Hop. Tell him what happened, how does that sound?”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Always. Now let me finish cleaning you up.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie had changed into a pair of clothes he’d left here, whilst you went to make him some toast and tea. Something your mom did whenever you were upset.

You also decided to call Wayne’s work place. “Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered, clearly tired. “Hi, um I was wondering if I could talk to Wayne Munson please.”

Soon enough you heard his voice, “Munson,” he said simply. “Hey Wayne it’s me.”

“Oh hello Honey, is everything okay?”

“Not really,” you then explained the events of the night. “Is he okay?”

“He was shaken up. I’ve cleaned him up, we’re going to talk to Hopper in the morning. I just wanted to tell you so you could be careful, keep an eye out for him”.

“Well thank you for letting me know. Just … tell him I love him okay, and thank you for taking care of my boy.”

“I always will Wayne, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wandered up to your room, finding Eddie sat on the bed, legs crossed, eyes skimming across your bookshelf, to keep himself distracted.

“Hey,” you said softly, not wanting to make him jump. “Hi,” he smiled weakly. Passing him the plate and the mug you sat next to him, sipping your own drink.

“I spoke to Wayne, just so he can keep an eye out. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you.” Eddie paused mid bite, almost choking.

“Really?”

“His exact words, he loves his boy. I love him too,” you nudged his shoulder.

“I love you.”

The rest of the night was quiet, you and Eddie drank your tea and ate toast. He lay on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, as you played with his curls.

Soon his soft snores were filling the room. He would be okay. He was surrounded by love, maybe not Al. But Al didn’t deserve him.

People like you, Wayne, your friends. Those were the ones he needed. His family, definitely strange and not at all normal, but a family nevertheless.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

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yuumenakaiser · 15 days ago

Text

Whispers of yesterday

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. Ken Kaneki x gn!reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. Word count: 8.7k ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. fluff, hurt, a lot of sad emotions, hospital, coma and so on I finally finished this piece of beauty and to be honest I'm really proud. It's my first longest fanfic ever and I hope people who read it, enjoy it as much as I wrote it. Before I forget it ima tag as a reminder for this fanfic @blu3-l0v3r hope you enjoy it too.

Please don't forget to reblog and like! I'm open for requests and comments, ideas etc.

The First Pages of Us

The first time you met Kaneki, he was crying.

You were five years old, standing in the middle of a playground, clutching a melting popsicle as you watched the little boy with dark hair wipe at his eyes. His knees were scraped, a little bloody and his lower lip wobbled as he tried to stop the tears from falling.

No one was paying attention to him. His friend had run off after pushing him too hard while playing tag, and now he sat on the ground, shoulders trembling.

You didn’t hesitate for a second, stepping forward and kneeling beside him as he sniffled, his scraped knee raw and red. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small plaster adorned with tiny purple flowers, its edges slightly crinkled from being carried around.

"Don't cry, I'll help you," you said softly, your voice filled with the same warmth your mother used to comfort you. You held out the bandage in your little hand, hoping it would make him feel better.

Leaning in, you gently blew on his wounded knee, just like you had seen your mother do so many times before. You weren’t sure if it actually helped, but something about the gesture always made the pain feel a little less sharp. His sniffles quieted as he watched you, his wide, watery eyes filled with curiosity and trust.

Carefully, you peeled the plaster open, your small fingers working delicately to separate the wrapper. With the utmost care, you pressed it over his scrape, smoothing it down with soft, reassuring pats. "There," you murmured, offering him a gentle smile. "All better now."

His nose ran a little and wiped it off his hoodie sleeve. He blinked his tears away and looking up at your face “T-thank.. you.”

You gave him a bright smile before snapping your popsicle in half, the crisp crack echoing softly between you.

“Here,” you said, holding out one half of the cold treat.

He looked up at you, his gray eyes still glossy with unshed tears. He sniffled. “But… it’s yours.”

You shook your head, your smile unwavering. “Now it’s ours.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his small fingers hovering uncertainly. Then, with careful movements, he reached out and took the popsicle from your hand. He held it delicately, almost as if he were afraid it might disappear.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice quiet but sincere. He sniffled again, rubbing his sleeve across his damp cheeks before taking a tentative lick of the frozen treat. Almost instantly, his face lit up with delight.

“It tastes good!” he beamed, his earlier sadness fading like a bad dream. His grip on the popsicle grew firmer, as if cherishing the simple gift you'd shared.

You nodded in agreement, mirroring his happiness.

And in that moment, without either of you realizing it, you and Ken Kaneki became inseparable.

---

Age 7 – A World of Books

The years passed like the pages of a well written love storybook, filled with soft laughter and whispered secrets.

Kaneki loved books—more than anything. And soon, you learned to love them too.

The library became your second home, you both spent your time together there after elementary school, a quiet sanctuary where the scent of old pages lingered in the air. You would sit in the corner, knees tucked to your chest, watching as Kaneki’s small fingers traced over the words on the page, his lips silently forming each syllable. He was completely entranced, lost in a world that only he could see.

He would read for hours if you let him, his gray eyes shimmering with quiet fascination. And even though he was usually shy—so soft-spoken that he barely spoke in class—books made him different. They made him come alive. He would lean toward you, excitement bubbling in his voice as he tried to teach you difficult words, sounding them out slowly until you got them right. He explained stories to you even when you hadn’t asked, rambling with a passion that made you forget he was ever the quiet boy who mostly just listened to your yap.

“Did you know,” he said one day, his expression alight with wonder, “that in this book, the hero isn’t really a hero? He just wants to protect someone, but that makes him do bad things.”

You blinked, tilting your head to the side. “So… is he bad?”

Kaneki hesitated, his fingers idly brushing the edge of the page. He thought about it carefully—just like he always did. Then, finally, he shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he murmured. “He’s just… lost.”

“Just…lost?” You thought about that for a moment, your gaze drifting to the book in his hands. Someone who wasn’t bad, just lost. Someone who did bad things for the sake of protecting someone they loved. The idea felt strange, complicated. Could love really make someone do something bad?

Slowly, you looked back at Kaneki, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Kaneki… if you had to do something bad to protect someone you love, would you do it?”

He froze.

For a moment, his small hands tightened slightly around the book, his expression unreadable. Then, his grip loosened, and he looked at you—his gaze lingering on you for a few seconds, as if he was trying to figure something out.

“…I think,” he started softly, “if it was you, I would.” his voice was steady, he meant what he said. He would try everything to protect his best friend.

Your breath caught slightly, and you felt warmth creep up your cheeks. Kaneki wasn’t looking at the book anymore.

Kaneki scratched the back of his head and smiled awkwardly at you, his eyes closed and his cheeks softly flushed into a light pink.

You didn’t really know what to say. Your fingers curled around the edge of your sleeve, playing with the fabric as your heart gave a small, unfamiliar flutter. You weren’t quite old enough to understand why that made you feel different—why it made you want to smile and hide your face at the same time.

But one thing was certain.

Whenever Kaneki got lost in his books, lost in the endless worlds and stories he loved so much, you would always be there to find him.

---

Age 12 – A Promise in the Rain

It started with a drizzle.

You and Kaneki were walking home from school, side by side, when the first raindrops fell from the overcast sky. You gasped, stretching your palm out and watching the droplets land on your skin. “It’s raining!” you exclaimed with a bright smile, tilting your head up to the sky. The rain drops on your palm feeling cold.

Kaneki, on the other hand, frowned, pulling his bag closer to his chest in an attempt to shield his schoolwork. “Great,” he muttered. “I just organized my notes and finished homework…”

But you weren’t paying attention. As the drizzle turned into a downpour, you let out a joyful giggle and twirled in place, arms spread wide. Your clothes clung to your skin as the cold rain soaked through, but you didn’t care. You felt free in the rain.

Kaneki sighed. “We should hurry before—”

“Come on, Kaneki!” you cut him off, your voice filled with excitement. “Let’s play in the rain!”

He stopped a few steps ahead of you, turning back with an unimpressed look. His lips pressed into a small pout, cheeks puffed slightly with air. “Are you serious?” Kaneki just wanted to go home, worried that all of his homeworks would get wet from the rain and to start all over again.

You only grinned and ran toward him, grabbing both of his hands before he could protest. His schoolbag in his arms falling on the ground. With a playful laugh, you spun around, pulling him with you. “We’re already wet! What’s the point in running now?”

Kaneki groaned but didn’t resist. “You’re impossible,” he mumbled. But as he watched you laugh, your joy infectious despite the chill of the rain, his frown slowly faded. A small chuckle escaped him.

And just like that, he gave in. Enjoying playing in the rain with you together, the street filled with children's laughter from you two.

The two of you played in the rain for what felt like forever—jumping into puddles, chasing each other through the empty streets, and spinning in circles until you were both dizzy. The cool raindrops slid down your faces, mixing with the warmth of your laughter.

But eventually, the cold began to creep in.

You shivered, hugging yourself as your wet clothes clung uncomfortably to your skin. “Okay… m-maybe it’s a little colder than I thought,” you admitted, your teeth chattering slightly.

Kaneki let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “I told you,” he said, but there was no real annoyance in his voice—only fondness.

Without hesitation, he reached for your hand and held it tightly in his own, his warmth a stark contrast to your chilled skin. “Come on,” he said, quickening his pace while grabbing his bag from the wet muddy ground. “Let’s get you home before you catch a cold.”

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, the rhythmic sound of raindrops filling the air. Your way home was the same as Kanekis, since you both lived next to each other, neighbours.

Then, suddenly, Kaneki stopped.

His expression softened as he turned to you, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly, raindrops falling down on both of your heads. “Hey… let’s make a promise.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by his serious tone. “A promise? What kind of promise?”

Kaneki nodded. “If something ever happens to me… I want you to keep going. No matter what.”

Your brows furrowed in concern, feeling a little unwell of the thought that something might happen to your best friend. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Kaneki… stop that.”

But he didn’t waver. “Just promise me.” His gray eyes held something unreadable—something deep, something heavy. Important to him.

You hesitated. You didn’t understand why he was saying this, why he suddenly looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world and that he was about to lose you. But despite the confusion settling in your chest and heart pounding fast, you found yourself nodding

“…Okay,” you whispered. “I promise. I promise that… if something happens to you, I will keep going. But with you in my heart!”

Kaneki smiled then, the tension in his face easing. “Then I promise, too.” he pulled you with him again in the direction of his home, his small hands wrapped around yours tightly. And as the rain continued to fall, soaking you both to the bone, you felt it—an ache in your chest that wasn’t just from the cold.

Something had changed between you that day. You just didn’t realize it yet.

---

Age 16 – Motion of Memories

The late afternoon sky stretched endlessly above you, painted in soft hues of orange and pink. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily, shifting shape as the warm breeze passed. The rooftop of your school had become your quiet escape—a place where the world felt smaller, where it was just you and Kaneki, lost in your own little universe.

You lay side by side on the cool concrete, arms folded behind your head, letting the warmth of the fading sun sink into your skin. The distant hum of the city below was nothing more than white noise, drowned out by the sound of each other’s steady breathing.

A comfortable silence settled between you.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kaneki shift. He parted his lips as if to speak but hesitated, brows furrowing slightly. His fingers twitched against the fabric of his uniform as though debating whether to voice the thought resting on his tongue.

Finally, he gathered the courage.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned your head slightly to face him, catching the way his gaze remained fixed on the sky. “Yeah?"

“…Do you ever wonder what it would be like to love someone?”

You let out a thoughtful hum. The question was simple for you, innocent even. For you love was warm, filled with butterflies and seeking for the affection of the other. But something about the way he said it—soft, contemplative, almost hesitant—made your stomach twist.

“What do you mean?” you asked carefully to get a better understanding, why he was asking this question and what exactly he had in mind.

Kaneki finally turned his head to meet your gaze. His gray eyes held a gentle warmth—soft and steady, like a quiet reassurance. There was kindness in them, a tenderness he often showed. And beneath it all, something deeper lingered behind those shy nervous orbs… something that felt a lot like love. “Like in books,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Where the main characters love each other so much it hurts”

You swallowed, your fingers curling into the hem of your shirt as your heart searched for the right words. “I think…” you began, your voice soft, uncertain. “I think love is supposed to feel warm.”

Kaneki’s lips lifted into a faint smile, but it barely reached his eyes. His gaze drifted, distant and unfocused, as though he was somewhere else—trapped in thoughts you couldn’t reach, couldn't enter. There was a strange weight to his expression, a kind of quiet sorrow that seemed to live just beneath the surface.

“Warm, huh?” he repeated, his voice low, almost to himself. But there was something in it, something fragile and heavy. While sitting up his eyes dropped to his hands, how his shoulders tensed slightly, made it feel like the idea of warmth was almost too painful for him. He didn’t believe it, not really. It wasn’t the love he had known.

Love, to him, didn’t feel like warmth. It felt like the cold ache of absence. Like the hollow ache that still lingered in his chest when he thought of his mother. The woman he loved so fiercely, the one who had wrapped him in a love that should’ve been comforting, but instead, it left scars—scars that hurt every time he let himself remember.

Because love had hurt him.

Love and kindness had taken her away. And every time he let himself think about it, about the warmth of her arms or her smile, it was like a wound reopening. His chest would tighten, his breath would catch. The warmth he should have felt always came with a sharp edge, a reminder that love could cut and burn just as much as it could heal.

“Warm…?” His voice was quieter this time, like he was testing the word, trying it on, but it didn’t fit. "I think... love hurts, sometimes."

You felt your heart twist. He couldn’t see love as warmth because it had hurt him so much. The only love he knew was the kind that ended in loss. And it was hard for him to believe anything different.

Your own heart pounded faster behind your ribs. The crush you once thought you understood had become something much deeper, something far more vulnerable. You had always cared for him, always felt the spark of something more when you were with him, but in that moment, you realized it wasn’t just a crush anymore. You loved him.

You loved him in the quiet, gentle way he looked at you when no one else was around. You loved the way he always tried to shield you from the darkness inside him, even though it leaked out in small, sad fragments. You loved him more than you knew how to say.

And it hurt.

Because you wanted to ask him, so badly. Why do you think love has to hurt, Kaneki? Why does it feel like no one’s ever shown you that love can be warm, soft, and lasting? Can you feel my love for you? Or does it cut you, too?

But you stayed silent instead, your chest tightening as the words got stuck in your throat. You were afraid—afraid of pushing too far, afraid of uncovering layers of pain he wasn’t ready to share.

So you just looked at him, hoping he could see the truth in your eyes, hoping he could see that love could be warm. That you could be the warmth he needed.

Slowly, you sat up, settling closer to him and wrapping your arms around him. He needed the support. You could feel his sadness—how it weighed on him. No words need to be shared for you to understand what's going on in his mind. You wished you could take the pain away, carry it inside of you instead. You hated seeing him filled with sorrow, the way his once bright, pretty gray eyes seemed to lose their spark.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you a little closer. You softly rubbed his back to comfort him, to show him you are there for him, caring. And he cared for you.

“Thank you…” he murmured out, to let you know his appreciation. Shaking your head and pulling a little away, to face him again. “Not for that, Ken.” He gave you a small smile that you immediately returned.

You wanted to tell him. I think of you when I imagine love. I think of you when I feel warmth. But you were afraid of his reaction.

The school bell rang, the fragile moment slipping slowly through your fingers, like sand. Was it too late?

Kaneki exhaled softly, his arms loosening on you, breaking the embrace. His fingers brushed against the rooftop surface as he stood up. “Let’s go back to class,” he muttered, his voice quieter than before.

He's standing now right in front of you and reaching his hand out for you, wanting to help you up. You slightly hesitated, your own mind filled with thousands of thoughts.

Grabbing his hand and with a little pull, you were also now standing on your feets. Both now ready to leave the rooftop, he started walking and you along with him. But after a couple of steps you took a halt.

This time… something felt different. You didn’t want to let the moment slip away like before. Something inside you urged you to speak, to be honest. You had to say it, even if you were terrified.

“Wait…”

Kaneki froze mid-step, turning slowly to face you. His expression softened, like he was already anticipating what you might say. The silence stretched between you, heavy, filled with unspoken words.

You opened your mouth, but hesitation still clung to your throat. The words you longed to say felt fragile, too precious. Yet, his gaze was warm and patient, as though he was waiting for something important, something you needed to say.

Your fingers tightened around your sleeves, your heart racing in your chest. In a breathless rush, the words finally spilled out: “I… I feel warm when I’m with you.”

Kaneki’s eyes widened just slightly. His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but his words were lost. For a fleeting moment, the golden light of the sunset danced in his gaze, and you saw it—a softness there, something you couldn’t quite grasp, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

He stood there for a beat, his lips pressing together as if choosing his next words carefully.

Then, he smiled. Not the teasing grin he sometimes gave, not the shy one—but something far gentler, something that felt like he was offering you a quiet piece of himself.

“I… feel warm when I’m with you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of something real. The truth. Holding the truth of his words in his voice and eyes.

You froze, stunned by his words, your heart skipping a beat. Your breath caught in your chest as warmth spread through you—an overwhelming, almost giddy feeling that made your hands shake slightly.

And then, the realization hit you. A huge, silly smile spread across your face, unbidden but so genuine, so full of joy, it made your cheeks hurt from how wide you were grinning.

Without thinking, you rushed forward and threw your arms around him in a tight hug. Kaneki let out a startled gasp, his body tensing as you practically knocked the air out of him. He half-choked, caught off guard by the force of your embrace.

“W-wait, hey—!” Kaneki stuttered, trying to calm you down, though there was a soft chuckle in his voice as he awkwardly patted your back and wrapped his arms around you. You only squeezed him tighter, your heart soaring as you buried your face into his chest. You wanted to hold onto this moment forever.

Kaneki laughed, a little breathless. “Okay, okay! We really should get going to class.”

You reluctantly pulled away, still smiling like a fool, and your fingers brushed against his. He looked down at your hand for a moment before, without hesitation, interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Come on,” he said, his voice now soft and steady, “we’ll be late.”

And with his hand in yours, you both started walking back toward the stairs, the weight of everything between you two still lingering in the air. As you walked side by side, you couldn’t help but feel like something inside you had shifted, something that wasn’t so heavy anymore.

Maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something far more than you’d ever expected.

---

Age 18 – Falling into Silence

You Promised. You both promised.

It had started as a childish promise. The kind you make when you're too young to understand how life truly is.

After a beautiful afternoon spent together at the library — getting lost between the pages, sharing thoughts about books, and picking out a few new ones to take home — you both decided to grab a coffee-to-go before heading back.

The sun was already beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow across the Tokyo sky, painting the city in soft, golden hues.

With your steaming cups in hand, the two of you walked side by side, shoulders brushing occasionally, until you reached a quiet little playground tucked away between the buildings.

“Wanna swing for a bit?” you asked, grinning at him.

He let out a soft chuckle — and then suddenly bolted toward the swing with the bigger seat. “Whoever gets there first gets the big one!” he called out over his shoulder.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” you shouted, laughing as you chased after him.

Of course, Kaneki got to the bigger swing first, leaving you with the slightly smaller one beside him. You both began to swing slowly, letting the quiet wash over you. The cool evening breeze brushed against your skin, and the soft hum of crickets filled the air.

Above you, the sky deepened into shades of violet and gold — the last remnants of daylight slipping gently beyond the horizon.

Kaneki kicked the dirt beneath his feet, making lazy arcs in the dust. “You know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “sometimes I wonder if things will always stay the same.”

You looked at him with a questioning gaze, tilting your head slightly.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” you asked gently, trying to understand — did he mean that things between you would always stay the same? That the world wouldn’t change? Or was he asking whether change was allowed at all — and if it was, how far it could go?

Of course, all you ever wished for was the good kind of change — the kind that leads to something beautiful. A future wide and open. One where he was always by your side.

He hesitated. His gray eyes flickered between you and the sandy ground beneath your feet. He looked tense, as if unsure whether to speak what weighed on his heart.

But then, he took a breath, gathered his courage, and asked quietly. “Like… what if one day we drift apart? What if we’re no longer friends?”

The mere thought of it echoed through your entire body. A tight, aching feeling bloomed in your chest, your heart pounding harder — not from excitement, but from fear. Even your mouth felt dry.

You shook your head quickly, your feet stilling the swing’s motion instantly.

“That’s never going to happen,” you said, your voice firm and serious. You would never let it.

A world without Kaneki felt impossible — dark, cold, and unbearably lonely.

Your fingers gripped the swing’s cold metal chains tighter.

“We’ll always stay together. Side by side. I’ll always be there for you. No matter what.”

You looked at him with unwavering certainty. You didn’t like that Kaneki had such thoughts, but you couldn’t be mad at him for them. He had always been like that — full of quiet doubts and questions.

Still, you were thankful he sometimes shared them with you, like now.

Because then, you could understand what was weighing on him.

And help lift it from his heart — as if reaching into his chest with invisible hands and taking the heaviness away, without causing him pain.

Kaneki gave you a small, uncertain smile. He had stopped swinging too, now just listening to your words, letting them sink in. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought.

Then, he looked up at you and asked softly,

“How can you be so sure?”

Without a second thought, you jumped off the swing and stepped toward him, turning to face him directly. Then, you stretched out your pinky finger toward him.

“Because we’ll promise.”

Kaneki blinked, a little confused.

“A promise?” he asked cautiously.

You nodded. “No matter what happens, we’ll always be there for each other. Our paths won’t separate. No running away. No disappearing. Forever and always.”

Kaneki stared at you for a long moment. Then slowly, he lifted his hand and wrapped his pinky around yours. His grip was gentle — but firm.

“…Always,” he whispered.

“…Always,” you echoed back, giving him a soft, sheepish smile as you leaned your forehead against his.

You stayed like that for a while. Just the two of you, held together by a quiet promise.

And after a few seconds… he began to smile too.

Back then, it was just a simple promise. But to you both, it meant everything.

A small vow that neither of you could live without the other — something you’d remember. In the best times… and in the hardest ones.

---

Kaneki was late.

The two of you had planned to meet again at your favorite little book café, that cozy place filled with the comforting scent of pastries, freshly brewed coffee, and paper worn soft from many hands. Books lined every wall, and the air always held a quiet kind of calm, like the world slowed down just a little inside.

You met there often after university, to study, to exchange notes, to simply read together in silence. Sometimes you’d talk for hours, sometimes you’d say nothing at all. And it always felt right.

Today, you had looked forward to it all day.

It hadn’t been a good one, heavy mood, heavier thoughts. But seeing Kaneki, talking to him… that always helped. He had a way of making things lighter, even without trying.

But this time… he didn’t come.

At first, you weren’t too worried. Maybe he was just running a little late. It happens. You’d been late before too. Maybe he’d gotten held up — or maybe he’d forgotten something. Forgotten the time? The meeting?

No. Kaneki would never forget your meetings.

So, you waited. And waited. And waited some more.

The waiter approached your table for the second time, politely asking if you wanted to order anything.

You gave him an apologetic smile and shook your head.

“I’m still waiting for someone.”

You didn’t want to order without Kaneki. It didn’t feel right. Besides, you’d promised to pay for his coffee this time, he covered yours far too often.

The waiter nodded and walked away, but you could feel his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary. His expression was soft. Sympathetic, almost.

As if he felt sorry, sorry that someone like you was sitting there… waiting for someone who never showed.

That was when the unease first crept in.

Seconds stretched into minutes. Minutes stretched into an hour. Still no Kaneki. You had already messaged him — several times.

Asking where he was, if he’d forgotten, if something important had come up. But your texts remain unread.

The screen of your phone stayed dark. Silent.

After another half hour, you called him. Again. And again.

Each time, all you got was the same voice:

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Kaneki Ken. Please leave a message after the tone… Beep… Beep… Beep…”

You still tried. “Hey, Kaneki… it's me, please call me back.” Your voice was soft, almost pleading. Then you hung up.

But still… nothing.

Maybe… maybe his phone died?

But that thought didn’t bring comfort. Not really.

Your nerves only tightened further with every passing minute. Your stomach turned with growing unease, uncertainty slowly giving way to worry.

And then… to panic.

Your breath came quicker now.

Kaneki always answered. Always replied. Usually right away.

This… This wasn’t like him. And then… hours later—the phone rang.

An unfamiliar number.

Your breath hitched. Your hands began to tremble as your eyes locked on the unknown digits glowing on your phone screen. Something in your chest tightened, a heavy, twisting feeling in your gut.

You hesitated. Your heartbeat was so loud, it felt like it echoed in your ears, pulsing through your whole body. But still…

You picked up.

A woman’s voice answered. Clear. Calm. Too calm.

“Hello, do I speak with L/N F/N?” she asked, her tone professional.

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face. Where did she get your number from and why was she calling you. Did she know anything about kaneki?

“Yes… that’s me. May I ask what you are calling me for?” Your voice was quiet. Uneven.

There was a short pause — too short to mean nothing, too long to feel okay.

Then the woman spoke again, gently but directly.

“Please try to remain calm. My name is Yumoi Nami. I’m a nurse. There’s been… an accident involving Mr. Kaneki Ken.” This was no good, your heart dropped down to your stomach. You felt dizzy and blood rushed through your veins faster. The world around you seemed to blur at the edges.

“Mr. Kaneki is in critical condition, right now he is in the OP-room.” she continued. Her voice sounded distant, clinical — like she was trying not to let emotion interfere.

“We ask that you come to the hospital immediately. You were listed as one of his closest contacts… perhaps the only one we were able to reach.” She kept yapping about Kanekis accident but you couldn't even think straight anymore. You only picked up a few words, something with steel beams, organ Transplantation. Your throat tightened and your mouth felt dry. Your eyes are burning. The world around you stopped, everything felt like slow motion.

The woman kept talking—saying something about procedures, about directions—but the words barely registered.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, hammering violently in your ears.

And then you were running. Running so fast.

You don’t remember getting in the car. You don’t remember speeding through the darkened streets, ignoring the traffic lights, ignoring the way your hands trembled against the wheel.

All you knew was that one second, you were in the street and the next, you were in the hospital.

---

You signed in quickly, telling the receptionist you were here for Kaneki – that you’d been called, contacted, told to come immediately.

She nodded, made a call to a nurse, then gently asked you to take a seat in the waiting room for a moment.

You didn’t like hospitals.

Too big. All the rooms looked the same. Waiting areas, restrooms, walls — everything felt cold and lifeless.

Of course, good things happened here too. Lives were saved. Babies were born.

But to you, hospitals felt like sorrow. Like fear and silence.

Especially now.

Your thoughts were consumed by Kaneki.

Was everything going to be okay? Would the surgery go well? Would he make it through?

You were terrified. Your entire body trembled. Your heart was still racing painfully fast. You kept fidgeting with your fingers — peeling at your skin again. You hated that. It always happened when anxiety gripped you too tightly.

After about ten minutes, another nurse stepped into the waiting room, calling out.

“Is L/N F/N here?”

You stood up immediately, stepping toward her. “Yes, that’s me…”

She gave you a quick once-over, then offered you a small, sympathetic smile. “Please follow me. I’ll take you to another waiting room — on the ward where Mr. Kaneki will be transferred later. You’ll be able to visit him once the doctors finish their rounds.”

You tried to listen, really tried. But you weren’t fully there. Everything felt unreal. Like you weren’t part of this world right now. You didn’t want to believe it.

You nodded, your expression helpless. “Thank you…” was all you could say, your voice barely audible. Then you followed her in silence.

She left you alone in the quieter room. And again… you waited.

You leaned forward, elbows on your knees, hands tangled in your hair. You tried to steady yourself. To breathe.

But then…

You felt the tears slip down your cheeks — quietly, gently.

And you couldn’t stop them anymore. Tears running down your cheeks more and more. You cried in silence, all alone by yourself. Consumed with worry and sadness over Kaneki, the boy you love and care so much for.

After about three hours, a doctor entered the waiting room, followed closely by a nurse. You looked up as the two of them walked straight toward you.

“I assume you are L/N F/N?” the doctor asked gently.

You gave a tired nod, your voice soft. “Yes… that’s me.”

He offered you a reassuring smile.

“My name is Kanou Akihiro – please, just call me Dr. Kanou. I’m the one who operated on Mr. Kaneki. I’m here to let you know that the surgery went well. He’s now in his hospital room.”

You listened closely, but the next words made your stomach twist.

“However,” he continued, “Mr. Kaneki is currently in a coma. We don’t yet know how long it will take for him to regain consciousness. When he arrived… he was in a terrible state.”

You didn’t even know how to respond.

So many thoughts flooded your mind at once.

You were grateful the operation had been a success – but devastated that he hadn’t woken up.

That there was no certainty. Only fear. The only thing you truly wanted now was to see him.

“…May I visit him?” you asked quietly. That was all that mattered to you now.

Dr. Kanou nodded without hesitation. “Of course. You may visit him anytime between 2 p.m. and 9 p.m., and longer if discussed with staff. If you have any questions, we are always available to assist. Thank you for being here for him.” He gave you another smile, but you didn’t return it. There was something about him you couldn’t quite place — something that made you uneasy. And the nurse beside him looked tense, even nervous.

You exhaled quietly and rose from your seat.

“This kind nurse will now take you to Mr. Kaneki’s room,” Dr. Kanou added. The nurse gave a small bow in greeting.

You didn’t speak, just silently followed her down the hall, toward Kaneki’s room. She left you alone with Kaneki, closing the large wooden door behind you.

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled your nose as you stood by his bedside, staring at the fragile, broken boy you had grown up with. His skin looked so pale—he didn’t look good at all. He clearly needed a lot of time to recover. His eyes looked terrible, dark circles carved underneath them, like he hadn’t slept in days.

Machines beeped softly beside him. The heart monitor pulsed in slow, steady movements. His chest rose and fell, each breath slow, almost too shallow.

He looked… peaceful, even if he looked horrible. Like he was just sleeping.

You reached out with trembling fingers, brushing his hand. His skin was warm. Just like they said love was supposed to be. You gently wrapped your hand around his, afraid to put any pressure on it, scared you might break him.

Your fingers softly caressed his knuckles as you stared at his face. It hurt so much to see him in this condition. Slowly, you leaned forward, brushing away a few strands of hair from his face with your other hand and pressing your trembling lips against his forehead. You closed your eyes and let your lips rest there for a few seconds—just long enough for him to feel it, maybe.

You remembered reading somewhere that people in coma can sometimes perceive their surroundings. So you wanted to try everything to let Kaneki know you were still here. That you hadn’t left.

You pulled back slowly. A sob started to build in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You had to be strong—for him.

But when you finally spoke, your voice cracked.

“…You promised,” you whispered, the first tear slipping down your cheek. “You promised you’d stay. Promised nothing is going to happen…”

Your vision blurred. The weight of the moment pressed down on your chest, made it harder to breathe.

“We said no running away,” you choked out, tightening gently your grip on his hand, as if that alone could anchor him to you. “No disappearing.”

Another tear fell. Then another.

“I’m right here, Kaneki. I won’t leave your side… never. I’m always gonna stay,” you whispered. “So please… wake up.”

But Kaneki didn’t answer.

And for the first time since the day you made that promise—

you were truly afraid he never would.

---

Sleepless Dreams

The hospital room became a second home.

Every day after University, you went straight to Kaneki’s bedside. If you had work, you came right after your shift, no matter how exhausted you were. It didn’t matter how long the days stretched or how many weeks passed—nothing could keep you away from him.

You fell into a routine.

Every Monday, you brought him flowers.

All different kinds—you had looked up what each one meant. Sometimes you even picked them yourself, just for Kaneki. Sometimes it was white or red lilies, other times you brought forget-me-nots from your own garden, or bright yellow chrysanthemums. The nurses let you place them by the window, where the soft sunlight streamed in. One Monday, you brought a white-and-lilac orchid.

“I don’t even know if you like orchids…” you murmured, voice low but still loud enough for him to hear. “Or any of the flowers I bring you, really.” Your fingers gently brushed along the delicate petals. “…But I think they suit you. Gentle. Quiet. And they need a lot of attention and care… just like you, huh?”

A soft giggle slipped from your lips as you looked at him, even if he couldn’t respond. You softly sat down on the chair next to his bed, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Every Tuesday, you read to him.

You chose books he used to love—Takatsuki Sen, Kafka, Dostoevsky. Authors you never fully understood, but Kaneki always did. “You know,” you murmured, flipping through the pages as your eyes drifted to his still form, “I used to pretend I liked these books just so I could keep up with you.”

A soft laugh escaped you, but it was hollow. “Guess I really do like them now.” You kept reading, pausing at parts that confused you, rambling your thoughts, your own little theories behind the scenes being written. It felt natural. Like old times.

Sometimes you brought your own favorite books instead—stories you loved, wanting to share that comfort with him. Like you used to do.

Other times, they were new books, and you’d tell him your opinions along the way. “What do you think..?” you asked the silence, glancing at him. “You’d probably like this one, huh? But I think you’d complain about the main character… mhm, definitely.”

And then, you just kept talking. Like he was listening. Because maybe… a part of him still was.

Every Wednesday, you told him about your day and your week.

You sat beside him, fingers gently tracing invisible patterns across the white hospital sheets before slipping into his hand, holding it softly.

“I saw a new café today,” you said, your voice light, even though your chest felt tight. “They had the kind of coffee you like—sweet, with too much milk. I almost bought one for you.”

You swallowed hard. “Almost forgot you wouldn’t be there to drink it.”The silence was unbearable.

You hated it.

So, you filled it—with your voice, your thoughts, your life. “I started a part-time job at a little flower shop,” you continued. “Just to earn a bit more money… things are getting kind of hard lately… without you.”

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head. But you kept going, kept talking.

You told him how university was slowly getting tougher, how the exams were creeping closer. How you were taking extra notes—just for him. “When you wake up,” you whispered, “I want you to catch up easily. I’ll explain everything to you, okay?”

You said you were listening more carefully in class now. Studying harder. All for him.

It was exhausting—but you didn’t care. You’d do anything for him. And putting in this much effort… it meant something.

Because he meant everything.

Every Thursday, you held his hand.

Just sat there, fingers gently wrapped around his, feeling the lingering warmth of his skin.

He felt alive. He looked alive.

He definitely looked healthier now. It had already been two weeks since the accident. He was recovering—little by little, day by day.

But sometimes… his left eye still worried you. There were moments when it looked off—dark shadows pooling under it, the veins a little too visible. Sickly, almost. But it always fades after about ten minutes. You never asked Dr. Kanou about it. You didn’t trust him.

Something about him made your stomach turn. Your gut told you to stay far away from that man—and your gut feeling never lied. So you said nothing. Keep your mouth shut when it comes to Kaneki’s health.

You know better. You spent nearly every waking moment at his side. You knew him better than anyone.

If not for the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, he could’ve been mistaken for someone lost in a deep, peaceful death.

“You’d hate this, you know,” you whispered one evening, giving his hand a soft squeeze. “Just lying here, missing out on everything. You hate being lazy… laying around.”

Your voice wavered, cracking under the weight of the silence.

“I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts.”

But Kaneki didn’t respond.

On some Thursdays, you studied next to him.

Working through difficult homework or preparing presentations for your different classes. You’d explain parts aloud, telling Kaneki what you were studying, just like old times.

Sometimes, you’d share your thoughts—how maybe, just maybe, you were thinking of becoming a doctor yourself. Though you weren’t sure. You were just… trying to find direction. And somehow, you were slowly getting used to the hospital.

What unsettled you more was the news.

In the 20th Ward, ghoul activity was increasing. You couldn’t help but wonder if a future where humans and ghouls could coexist was even possible. You’d mentioned it to Kaneki a few times, just in passing—half serious, half dreaming—but always ended up brushing the idea aside.

Still… if you ever became a doctor, you thought…

You’d want to help both. Humans and Ghouls.

Sometimes, the nurse in charge of Kaneki brought you a cup of tea or coffee. She was always sweet, always kind. You’d talk a little, about how you were holding up, how she was doing.

It was nice to have someone to talk to. Better than the pure silence each day.

Every Friday, you let yourself cry. It had almost become a ritual. A quiet surrender to the pain you tried so hard to hold back all week.

Fridays were the days where your strength finally wore thin—where the pressure that had built up inside you from pretending, from hoping, from smiling at the nurses and whispering stories to an unresponsive body, all came crashing down.

You sat by Kaneki’s side like always, but your posture would be different. Slumped. Exhausted. There was no need to pretend on Fridays. No need to act strong for anyone else.

And when the silence around you felt louder than usual, when the ticking of the clock on the wall became unbearable, you buried your face in your palms. Your shoulders would tremble, the sobs slipping out before you could stop them. You hated crying in front of him, hated the thought of him hearing your voice break and feeling your sadness even in the state he was in—but you couldn’t help it.

“I can’t do this without you…” you’d whisper, voice shaking. “You said you’d stay, remember? You said we’d figure everything out… together.”

The tears came heavier then. Sometimes they soaked into your sleeves, other times you didn’t even bother wiping them away.

You stared at his sleeping face through blurry eyes, aching to see his lips twitch, his eyes flutter open—anything. Even just the smallest sign that he was still fighting in there.

“Wake up, Kaneki,” you begged, voice hoarse and cracked. “Please… I don’t care how long it takes, just—come back to me.”

Sometimes, you’d grip his hand a little tighter, as if trying to anchor him back into this world. Other times, you’d simply cry silently beside him, forehead resting against the edge of the hospital bed.

Fridays weren’t about updates or strength or pretending things were okay.

Fridays were the days you allowed yourself to break.

And in breaking, you reminded yourself why you were still here—why you kept coming back.

Because you loved him.

And no matter how much it hurt, you weren’t going anywhere.

Every Saturday, you brought music and your old photo album filled with memories—the snapshots of a life you shared before everything changed.

You’d set your phone beside Kaneki’s bed, letting the soft hum of music fill the sterile air. His favorite songs played first—gentle, thoughtful melodies that reminded you of late-night walks under flickering streetlights and the way his expression softened when he was truly at peace. Then came your favorites—songs full of hope, of warmth, of all the little pieces of life you wanted to share with him again.

Sometimes you closed your eyes and imagined you were anywhere else—back in that tiny book café, curled up beside him with a cup of sweet coffee and an open novel between you. Or on a park bench, watching the world go by with no fear of what waited around the corner.

“I wonder if you can hear this,” you murmured one Saturday afternoon, watching his still face. “I like to think you can.”

You reached for the photo album next. The edges were worn, the pages filled with fingerprints and smudged corners from all the times you’d flipped through them together. There were silly selfies in cafés, blurry action shots from study sessions turned into play fights, quiet pictures where he was just reading or staring out the window—and those were your favorites.

You showed each one to him again, holding the album up and describing the moment as if he needed to be reminded. “This was that day we both skipped class because it rained too hard… and you insisted of still going but in the end I made you skip with me.” You chuckled softly. “You were probably right, we should've went to class because we truly skipped something important that made me fail a test.”

You’d point at another. “Look. That dumb scarf you said made you look cool. You wore it in May, Kaneki.” You let out a sigh. “To be honest.. I think it did make you look cool.”

The emotions hit harder on Saturdays—because these were reminders of what you had. What you still had… but only just barely. The music, the photos—they were your way of holding on. Of saying, I remember. I haven’t forgotten. And I won’t.

Sometimes, while a song played, you’d set the album aside and just sit there quietly, your hand resting beside his. Letting the silence breathe between the notes.

Because even though he couldn’t speak back…

You believed he could hear you.

And maybe, just maybe—he remembered, too.

Every Sunday, you made another promise. It became a quiet ritual aswell, something sacred between just the two of you. You would lean in close, your breath brushing against his skin, and rest your forehead gently against his while your other hand was cupping his cheek. “No matter how long it takes… I’ll be here,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your words.

And you meant it—with every broken piece of your heart, with every sleepless night and every aching second that passed.

The world outside the hospital kept moving. People rushed through life, seasons changed, and you watched leaves fall, snow melt, flowers bloom again—all from the window of his room. The city never stopped. But you did. You stopped your world for him. You stayed. Because Kaneki had always kept his promises to you. Even the quiet ones. Even the ones he never said out loud. And now, it was your turn to return that same unwavering loyalty.

The days turned into weeks. The weeks bled into months.

You lost count of how many Sundays passed like that—how many times you whispered promises with a cracking voice, wiped your tears before the nurses walked in, and kissed his forehead like it might bring him back. But you always meant it. Every single time

Then, one evening—just as the golden light of sunset spilled into the room and you were getting ready to leave—you stayed a moment longer.

You stared at him, your chest tight, a hundred things caught in your throat. Your heart beat so hard it ached.

“I never got to tell you…” you whispered, the words nearly breaking you. You paused, fighting back the sob rising in your chest. “...that I love you.” It felt too late and yet more real than ever. Too big and too soft all at once. The words hung in the air, trembling like you were.

You pressed another kiss down to his forehead—slow and lingering, as if the warmth in your lips could sink into him and carry the message the words couldn’t.

And maybe it did.

Because just as you turned to leave, the stillness was shattered.

A whisper.

So quiet you weren’t sure if you imagined it. Your name.

You froze in the doorway, heart lurching. You spun back toward him, eyes wide, breath held.

And there he was.

His eyes were open. Soft. Heavy with exhaustion, but awake.

You ran to him. The tears came instantly, hot and unstoppable as you took his hand in yours, clinging to him like he was still fading and you could hold him here just by touching him. You couldn't believe he was really awake. He was back.

He was so weak. His lips barely moved. But his fingers curled around yours—like he was reaching for home.

“I kept my promise,” you sobbed, your forehead meeting his once more. “I waited. I waited the whole time for you.” You cried more and more, each sob became heavier. You felt like a little child crying so loudly, clinging onto him.

A faint, tired smile tugged at his lips, and his voice—barely more than a breath—reached your ears.

“I know,” he murmured. “I heard you… the whole time.”

And nothing else mattered.

Not the time you lost. Not the pain. Not the silence.

Because Ken Kaneki had come back to you.

And this time, you would never let go and never leave his side. You want to make more memories with him.

(…But little did you both know that the pain started just now.)

---

11.04.2025 - sincerely your yuumakaiser

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xxnghtclls · 4 days ago

Text

Flickering Lights

Chapter 7

Chapter 6 I Chapter 8

True Form Sukuna x Reader

NSFW I Explicit I Slow Burn

Infos and tags on Chapter 1

Used music is linked in text.

Mother’s Milk

The music’s muffled bass moves your blood in a rhythm, as you walk with Mio through the dark corridors of the Club. With the ground vibrating against your feet and the thick air clogging inside your throat, you stride past the silhouettes standing against the walls, as their giggling and chatting voices echo into your ears. The cocaine you just snorted prickles inside of your nose, is about to flow through your system, making your heart race.

It excites you.

A few stairs up and the music grows loud and clear, the floor lights up. Round, glowing spheres are dangling from the ceiling and reflect the moving headlights. Red, blue and purple. So bright, that it stings in your eyes, as the light dances between the shadows of countless people on the main floor. Huge digital screens show abstract forms and objects. Swirling and jittering in hypnotising, psychedelic patterns.

Mio grabs your hand and guides you through the dancing crowd, tight and sticky. And you feel your mouth growing numb, as your pupils dilate. The lights grow even brighter, blinking faster and faster. Everyone’s movements are just continuing snapshots in your eyes and you know, the rush is about to hit. The bass drops in sync with the beat of your heart and the pumps of your blood, makes you want to move, makes you want to dance and let go.

An attempt to let go of all your worries and thoughts in your mind. To numb your aching heart, that’s on a never-ending search to fill this hole inside your soul, to fill it to the brim and let your mind float into a better place.

Skin on skin. Hands on hands. Lips on lips. Strangers loose themselves in the pleasure this place provides.

Grinding, kissing, fucking, dancing. Minds and naked bodies merge with each other in every way and every sense. It’s an escape from the world. An escape from daily duties, rules and modesty. Lost souls on the search of a night of their life.

A few steps further, past the open sex booths, Mio guides you to the spiral staircase. Step by step, very careful, you climb the stairs, until you’re on the upper floor. To your left, people are sitting on soft couches. Drinking and snorting. Talking and touching. Behind them, a gigantic mirror, reaching up to the ceiling and several feet long. Your eyes wander to your right, down the railing to the dance floor, see the crowd dancing like ants, see people kissing and fucking on the black leather mattresses in the corners, barely hidden by metallic poles, bamboo decoration and shining waterfalls.

The sight combines with the cocaine’s euphoria and it sends a tingling sensation down between your legs. Mio squeezes your hand, making you look back to her and she pulls you in. Her hands find your face and her lips find your mouth. Having her so close makes you feel her soft hair tickle against your skin. The atmosphere and the substance in your blood excites you to a point of intense arousal, makes you grow wet, makes you want to feel even more.

Her tongue slides past your lips, making your hands find her face and deepen the kiss. Your mind is dancing, before you feel another pair of hands slide across your hips from behind. They pull you in, making your ass meet a swollen bulge. Your abdomen churns with lust, as your cunt grows wetter and wetter, before you start to grind. A moan crawls through your throat, as you part from Mio’s mouth. A string of saliva breaks between your lips, before you lick it off and turn around, only to see that the other person has a partly veiled face. A loose lace front covering their eyes and part of their nose, ornaments and tassels decorate the side of their mask, making them unable to be recognised.

And you close your eyes and kiss them. Without knowing who they are or what they want.

It is what you want. To flee and drown in the ecstasy and pleasure. To seek something inside someone with your mind and body, trying to sip up everything that makes you not feel as empty, not as lonely.

Lonely in this city of millions…

“Come with me.” the person whispers against your lips, as you feel Mio guide your hair to the side and exposes the skin of your neck, kissing it. And you softly moan into their mouth, as you feel their hands squeezing yours and the hair of your body stand up.

“Good luck.” Mio whispers from behind, knowing this could be your opportunity.

With a racing heart, you part from Mio and let the person lead you to the bar. They lean against the counter, knock two times with their fist on the surface, then once with their flat hand. Your face is hot and your mind is rumbling, unable to question what they do. Instead you watch their figure, their kinky clothes, the delicate fabric on their skin, watch their facial structure beneath the veil, their pretty lips and how the lights and shadows dance and swirl across their face.

“Drink this.” they say, as they hand you a glass with a drink, looking similar to white wine.

And you taste it, but it’s nothing like it. No alcohol and rather sweet. A light, almost fruity, but slightly bitter, herbal substance, almost like tea.

They watch you swallow and as soon as you do, the arousal between your legs and abdomen slowly starts to intensify. Intensifies so much, your mind starts to fog, wants to seek relief and fuck.

The person steps closer and grabs your wrist tightly, before pulling you towards one of the couches next to the bar. Other guests make way, only for you to be pushed onto the cushion and fall on your knees. The rough motions cause your cunt to throb and your fingers dig into the backrest, as you’re facing the bottom edge of the mirror in front of you, looking right into your own burning face. The person positions themself right behind you, grabs your throat and pulls you up, flush against their chest, grinding you from behind, making you whimper and tremble in anticipation.

“Do you see?” their husky voice whispers in your ear and they motion their chin to the mirror.

Your eyes comply and your heart skips a beat, wondering if the reflecting glass hides what you came for.

“He does.” they nibble at your ear, making you gasp. “You want it, right?”

And you nod and the arousal grows, as they gently push a finger into your gasping mouth, making you suck.

However, it’s not just the arousal between your legs, it’s the arousal in your soul and mind to finally get the high you’ve been yearning for, hoping it would soothe this aching feeling inside of you.

It’s a rare opportunity to meet the man of this establishment. Carefully selected, it’s a chance to consume a special drug…

“Good.” they hiss inside your ear, before they let go and step away. Emptiness washes over you after the loss of their touch and you turn around to follow them. Follow them past the bar and past the people. On the other end of the floor, they lock up a door that leads through another corridor. The music grows dull and quiet, the air lights up.

Breathe.

Three knocks on the door to your left, before they go in and the energy changes. The room is coated in dark, red light. Huge, with traditional japanese interior. To your left a window front, providing a view to the people on the upper floor, disguised as a mirror from outside. To your right, a slightly elevated podium-

“Look who we have here.” a man with long black hair and dressed in a buddhist robe stands up and steps down. He grins at you, his eyes forming a bent line. “Y/N right?”

The veiled person steps aside and lowers their head.

“Y-Yes.” you breathe after a second, a bit confused at him knowing your real name. “Kenny, right?”

“Ah! Call me what you want.” he giggles, waving his one hand and reaching out with his other, caressing your face and tracing his thumb gently across your cheek. “Little dove, your skin so soft.” he continues with a smooth voice. “It’s not your first time here, isn’t it?”

You blink and gently shake your head, barely able to stand still from the high. The substances in your system still rumble in your blood. Taking a deep breath, your eyes wander from his hand, up to his face. Scars adorn the skin across his forehead, looking like stitches. He hums, before he grabs your cheeks, ripping you out of your thoughts.

“So, what are you here for, little dove?”

Your body reacts to his tight grip. The sensations feel intense, making you swallow a whimper, as your blown pupils stare at him. Another breath and you speak.

“They say you offer something sweet, something to ease my soul. They call it Mother’s Milk. That’s what I’m here for.”

He giggles. Eerie.

“Good.” he tilts his head and leads you to the middle of the room, right in front of his podium. “Just so we’re clear: One time opportunity only. And what happens in here, stays in here.” he smiles arrogantly, pointing his finger against your lips, before winking at you. “Understood?”

“Understood.” you push the word out of your throat, making him lean closer.

“Good girl.” he coos and winks at you, before he walks off and back to his podium, snipping his fingers. The veiled person walks to the wall and opens up a little vault, while Kenny sits down and lean his head on his fist, supported on a Kyosoku.

Out of the vault, they grab a little glass jar with a dark substance in it. Dark like death, with a white, thick drop swirling inside of it. You blink, ready to take this rare drug of his, that only a few are chosen to indulge. They walk up to you and carefully hand you the jar.

“Drink it up.” Kenny coos and you comply, taking a smell first. It’s sharp, bites your nose, makes you feel your bottom lip quiver. But you compose yourself. And then you sip and then you swallow.

It tastes grotesque. An addicting rotten, hot taste upon your tongue. Metallic and bloody. Salty and muddy. Tasting like death and depression, pain and agony. And your throat clenches, makes you rather want to gag and purge, but you keep going, dump it down your throat, more and more- until it’s empty.

It’s a rare opportunity after all…

His eyes grow dark, as he keeps watching you and your figure, with a nasty grin spread on his face and you swallow the last drop.

Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Come here, little dove.”

In the split of a second, Kenny’s eyes smile again and he taps on the spot next to him, motioning you to sit down. And your heads starts to twirl and spin, walking step by step closer to him. It numbs your mind, until it relaxes you, until you collapse and lay your head on Kennys lap. Your blood tickles like needles, as you feel his hand stroke away some strands out of your face…

“Relax.”

His cooing voice just a soft echo in your ear.

And you comply, understand his words like an order, let your fingers crawl beneath your dress and between your legs.

Sliding in your underwear, you dip in and feel yourself.

“Slowly.”

Slowly, you keep touching and caressing.

Your mind keeps spinning.

Spins so fast, it blocks your thoughts and consciousness-

S eparating your mind from your soul.

”Breathe.”

You gasp, as your vision liquifies like milk poured into tea.

Swirls and spins, until y our eyes roll back.

The feeling in your hole so warm and wet, wonderful and soothing.

The foul taste from earlier evaporates in your throat, coats yourself in warmth.

A sweet aftertaste.

As if you’re sinking and rising at the same time, your soul elevates and submerges.

Comfortable.

A contempt feeling in your heart…

Pleasure…

Just like you wanted…

…Just like you wanted.

…It’s a short ride

The climax is high…

…until the feeling stops.

—

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” the Stranger grits his teeth, stopping in front of your door, before he turns around and glares at you, shifting the energy in your flat. “Given that this Kenny you claim to know, is indeed the Kenjaku I seek.”

Kenjaku?

You’re not entirely sure, but you bite your lip, hoping that this could be an opportunity to make him stay, an opportunity to keep diving into this feeling that he summons inside of you. Blinded and desperate, you decide to grab this chance, even if it means to visit a life you left behind six months ago-

“There is only one guy I’ve ever seen with stitches on his forehead. And there aren’t many people who know about his appearance or even met him…” you reply in a careful voice. “Who are you?”

“An old acquaintance.” he breathes, his eyes glowing. “That brainface promised me something and now, after a long time, I’m finally here to collect it.”

“So that’s what you need the coin for?” you conclude and he raises his chin.

“Where is he?” he asks, ignoring your question and you hesitate.

Anxiety pinches inside your chest and slowly paints your face, as you realise he’s gonna-

Don’t leave-

“What’s the matter?” he coos, stepping forward. “Afraid to snitch, because I shed a little bit of blood?”

Your stomach drops and your eyes follow his movements, before he presses his right index finger on your forehead, tilting your face further up to look at him.

“Don’t rely on your morals, Woman. You left those out on the street as soon as you decided to follow me. You’re corrupted already.”

I am…

“I’m not afraid.” you breathe, making him frown, almost as if he’s pitying you.

“So?” his voice is calm, almost soft, despite his actions, holding you at the tip of his finger, as if you’re nothing more than a puppet.

And there it is again, this feeling.

The way he keeps looking down on you, full of pity and dominance, but somehow gentle at the same time. And suddenly you feel how your legs start to grow weak, just because he makes you feel… feel so alive.

His nail slowly digs into your skin and it hurts, causing your mouth to fall agape. A soft, audible breath escapes your throat, as your head tilts back and exposes your neck.

“You won’t find him. Not without me.” you breathe and swallow. “But, I can lead you to him. He’s the head of a private Club, a secret place.”

He blinks and raises his chin, while he listens to your words, making you feel so vulnerable in his hold. His upper eyes focus back to your window and you hear how the fly buzzes away, making him click his tongue.

“You only get in with a person that’s already on the list.” you continue. “I’m gonna get you in.”

He huffs.

“So eager to help me.” he purrs, as he looks back at you. Arrogance rises in his voice. “I will not lie, your curiosity and efforts in my matters is as bothersome, as well as it is intriguing, dare I even say, convenient… For what cause?”

Badum.

Your heart picks up a beat listening to his sweet and curious voice, as you hold his gaze, almost lean into his touch unconsciously.

“You interest me.” you breathe, admitting it without a thought, as you lean against his finger.

“Tch.” he leans closer, barely suppressing his grin. “Bold.” he growls, causing you to feel an intense pulse inside your clit. Your eyes jump down to look at his lips, before your mouth opens with a trembling breath.

“We have to wait until tomorrow night.” you explain quietly and look up to his eyes again.

“How unfortunate.” he coos and his brow furrows, before he comes even closer. “That’s more time, than I’m willing to spend.”

“It’s gonna pay off.” you reply in a sweet voice and raise your eyebrows, as if you’re negotiating valuable goods. “It’s said that Kenny only shows up between 9 pm and 12 am. He’s there every night, but no one knows where he’s located outside the club. So unless you want to deal with more time consuming rats and bloodshed, while searching for him in all of Tokyo, you should come with me. Tomorrow night. He’ll be there.”

The Stranger blinks, pondering about your words, before he looks at your lips, making them tingle, as if a part of you wants to close the gap between you and this criminal-

A forbidden thought.

“Fine.” he grumbles after a few seconds, looking back at your eyes. “Tomorrow night it is. If that brainface isn’t there, you’ll die.”

“Fine.” you swallow, before he slowly let’s go of your forehead and straightens his back. You inhale, feeling as if you’ve hold your breath the entire time, while you tilt your face back forward. Giving your shoulder a soothing squeeze with your right hand, you eye him up and down.

His pink hair, the mask on his face, his bloodstained skin and clothes. You can’t deny the effect his manner and appearance has on you. It increases with every interaction, with every touch and word and threat. He keeps pulling you in, keeps making you feel this satisfying feeling inside your soul.

…Corrupted

You blink and swallow your dry throat, unsure what comes next.

”Thirsty, huh?” he asks, as you notice his bottom pair of eyes watching your throat. You feel caught.

“Yeah…” you mumble and unconsciously swallow again, before you decide to turn to the fridge and take out a water bottle, never taking your eyes off of him. He’s suspiciously eyeing the situation, then looks at the microwave that’s sitting on top of the fridge, before his eyes focus back on you, while you take a sip and swallow. He cocks his eyebrow and smacks his lips, before you offer him the very same bottle.

It seems to amuse him, making him huff and smirk, but then he hesitates, before he steps closer and reaches out. Slowly, he slides the bottle out of your your fingers, making his eyes twitch at the cold sensation. The plastic cracks in his hold, before he takes a sip. Then another and another.

And you listen to him gulping down the liquid, watch how his Adam’s apple bops up and down, while he swallows it all. Your mouth parts, as if you’re hypnotised at the sight in front of you. He licks his lips, before loudly crushing the empty bottle in his palm, it almost hurts your ears.

“Thirsty, huh?” you repeat his words, making him grin in a way that makes his eyes wrinkly, before he tosses the flat plastic back at you.

You catch it and the Stranger gently bites on his cheek, as his eyes wander down, cocking his eyebrow in a judging manner at your pyjamas, before they start to roam around in your flat.

He looks over your head at your kitchenette, the stainless steel sink and the two plates of your little stove, before he his eyes turn left to your bookshelf next to the window, scanning it up and down. You watch his face turn into a mix between disgust and confusion, making you cross your arms in front you.

“What business does a woman like you have with a guy like Kenjaku?” he asks, as his eyes shoot back to yours, his question making your head tilt. You chew on your lip, thinking of how you’re gonna word your answer.

“It took me a while to understand, but… he is despicable.” you explain softly. “He watches and lures people into the depths of their shadows, enabling them to meet their lowest self with the false promise of enlightenment. In the end, it was nothing.”

A smirk creeps onto his lips, almost impressed, almost as if he understands what you’re talking about, before he casually leans against the fridge.

“And what kind of enlightenment do you seek?” he coos, squinting his eyes at you.

You eye him up and down and hesitate, before you speak.

“The kind of enlightenment that will help me find a remedy for my aching soul, I guess.” you conclude quietly and he gently blinks, a soft pout on his lip. “What did he promise you?” you ask him back, remembering his words from earlier.

And he doesn’t reply. Instead his eyes keep boring into your soul, as if his mind keeps pattering against his head for whatever reason. It makes you wonder, if it’s about him or if he’s analysing you.

The silence in your flat grows and his unreadable stare starts to make you feel uneasy, almost making you feel embarrassed having opened up to him in a way that you didn’t even did to Mio. You don’t know why you did, it just felt like you could… it just felt like he knew. This look of his, as if he could see your soul, making you feel like you would be unable to lie to him, even though you don’t even know his name. It makes your heart stumble.

Badum.

“Keh.” his quiet grin grows into a chuckle, before he raises his right hand to your face.

Flick!

His fingers snap against your forehead and your vision goes black, before you feel your body hit the floor-

Bam!

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