𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

It's happened so many times that it’s almost become routine. You slip beneath the covers, burying your face in your pillow as the tears begin to flow, slow at first, then unstoppable. You try to stifle your sobs, muffling them into the fabric because the idea of someone hearing — even if no one is there to hear — feels like exposing a wound you’ve kept hidden. The darkness around you is suffocating, pressing in from all sides, and you clutch the pillow as if it's the only thing tethering you to this world.

You’re shaking, your whole body trembling with the force of emotions you can’t control, can’t understand. The silence is heavy, filled with the echoes of things you’ve never said out loud, words you wish someone would say to you. You feel like a ghost in your own life, drifting through the days unseen, unnoticed. People look right through you, as if you’re not even there. You laugh when they laugh, smile when they smile, but no one seems to realize that it’s all a mask, that behind it, you’re breaking apart.

The loneliness settles deep in your bones, a cold that no amount of blankets can chase away. It's just you, alone with the emptiness that gnaws at your heart. The loneliness has become a familiar ache, one you've almost made peace with because it's the only thing that's stayed. You thought by now you'd be used to it, that you'd have learned how to numb yourself to the sharp sting of being forgotten, but it hurts just the same. It hurts that no one asks how you are, not really. It hurts that no one looks at you and sees someone they want to be around. It hurts that when you open your phone, there's no new message, no missed call, no one saying they missed you, even just a little.

You start to question yourself, over and over. Why isn’t anyone there? What’s so wrong with you that people keep leaving, keep forgetting? You replay conversations in your head, scrutinizing every word, every moment, trying to figure out what you did wrong, why you’re always the one left out. The doubts swirl around, relentless, cruel voices whispering that maybe this is all you deserve. Maybe you’re just not worth the effort.

Eventually, the tears dry up, leaving you exhausted and hollow. You lie there, staring at the wall, wishing that someone, anyone, would notice. That someone would send a message, knock on your door, hold you and say they care. But the phone stays silent, the room stays empty, and the only sound is your own ragged breathing, the quiet, broken gasps of someone trying desperately to hold on when it feels like there’s nothing left to hold on to.

You close your eyes, the pillow still clutched tight in your arms, and whisper to yourself that maybe tomorrow will be different. But deep down, you don’t really believe it.

A few days had passed, and you still felt like crap. When you finally dragged yourself to the common room, you were hit with the familiar sight of your classmates clustered in their friend groups, laughing and chatting like they didn't have a care in the world. The moment you stepped in, you felt invisible, like a ghost drifting through a space where you didn't quite belong. A few of them waved and smiled at you, but you knew it was just politeness — the kind of acknowledgment people give because it’s the nice thing to do. No one rushed over, no one lit up at the sight of you, no one asked how you were doing or if you wanted to join them. No one.

You shuffled your way to the kitchen, feeling like every step was heavier than the last. Your body was weak, your limbs weighed down as if the sadness clung to you like a second skin. Your eyes were still swollen and puffy from the tears you’d cried the night before, your eyelids heavy and stinging. You grabbed something quick to eat, not because you were hungry but because it seemed like you should at least try. You settled for a banana, barely even tasting it as you moved over to the couch.

You sat there quietly, not far from where your classmates were gathered. They were spread out across the common room, absorbed in their own conversations, their laughter echoing in the space. You took a small bite, your eyes drifting down to your feet where your slippers rested on the floor, warm and comforting against the cold tile. You tried to focus on that tiny bit of warmth, to block out everything else happening around you.

No one looked your way. No one sat next to you. You wanted to say something, to join in, but the words got stuck in your throat, tangled up with the anxiety that always held you back. You knew how it would go: you’d try to say something, your voice would waver, and then you’d freeze up, convinced that whatever you had to say was stupid, irrelevant. The fear of being ignored, of everyone looking away or giving you that polite, strained smile, kept you silent. It felt safer to stay quiet, to blend into the background where at least you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.

Maybe you were overthinking it, like you always did. Maybe it was all in your head, and if you just made an effort, they’d include you. Maybe if you tried a little harder, pushed past the fear, things would be different. But as much as you told yourself this, you couldn't bring yourself to move, to speak. You hated how sensitive you felt, how easily the loneliness crept in and wrapped itself around you. You wanted to be stronger, to "grow a pair," as the voice in your head harshly put it. To stop feeling like a victim of your own emotions. But right now, all you could do was sit there, nibbling at the banana you didn’t even want.

You finished your banana, standing up shakily as you made your way to the trash can to toss the peel. You could feel the tears threatening to spill over any second, the lump in your throat growing unbearable. Desperate to get away before you broke down in front of everyone, you headed straight for the elevator, biting your lip so hard it hurt, hoping the pain would keep the tears at bay. Your hands trembled as you pressed the elevator button, your vision blurring. Just hold on until the doors close, you repeated to yourself, fighting to keep it together.

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped inside, leaning back against the wall as you took a shaky breath. Just as the doors were about to close, they suddenly stopped and slid back open. You flinched, quickly wiping at your eyes, and looked up to see Sero stepping in. He gave you a friendly smile as he pressed the button for his floor.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, his voice light.

"Hi," you replied softly, but your voice cracked, betraying you. The moment the sound left your lips, you could see his expression change, the smile fading as he turned to look at you fully.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but filled with concern.

Those words — simple, caring, exactly what you’d been longing to hear — were all it took for the fragile dam you’d built up to shatter completely. You couldn’t even look at him as your face crumpled, the sobs you’d been holding back finally breaking free. You lowered your head, trying to hide your tears, but it was no use. The pain, the loneliness, everything you’d been bottling up came pouring out all at once.

"Hey… hey," Sero murmured, his voice soothing as he quickly stepped forward. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around you, one hand gently cradling the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest. The other arm circled around your back, holding you close, like he was shielding you from the world. It was the first time in so long that someone had held you like this, had comforted you when you were falling apart.

You clung to him, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as you buried your face in his chest. His warmth surrounded you, and for the first time, you felt like you weren’t completely alone. You sobbed, your tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tightened his grip, his chin resting on top of your head.

"Shh, ya no más," he whispered softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the back of your head. "You’re okay, it’s okay." He kept repeating it, his voice steady and calm, grounding you as you let out everything you’d been holding in. You didn’t know how long you stood there, wrapped in his arms, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You were finally being held, being comforted.

Once you’d finally calmed down, you sniffled against his chest, your heart still racing from the intense sobbing. His hand continued to rub gentle circles on your back, grounding you.

“Breathe,” he murmured softly. “Your heart’s racing.”

You hummed in response, focusing on his voice as you took slow, shaky breaths. In and out, just like he said. His arms stayed firmly around you, unwavering, offering comfort until you felt steady enough to pull away. When you finally did, you sniffled again, glancing up at him with tear-streaked cheeks and puffy eyes, your hair falling messily into your face.

He didn’t hesitate, his hand moving immediately to tuck your hair behind your ear. His other hand brushed at your face with his sleeve, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “There you go,” he whispered, his voice warm and soothing, a soft smile gracing his lips. That smile — gentle and full of care — sent a small spark of warmth through your chest, easing the ache just a little.

Realizing you were still standing in the elevator, Sero gently grabbed your hand, guiding you out as the doors opened. Without saying a word, he led you to his dorm. His grip was firm but not overbearing, and you followed quietly, too drained to question where he was taking you. Once inside, he closed the door softly behind you, creating a bubble of quiet comfort.

“You don’t have to tell me, but…” he started, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie as he leaned against the doorframe. “What’s got you so upset?” His voice was steady, careful. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You can’t cry like that over nothing.”

You hesitated, standing there, unsure of how to even begin. The weight of everything you’d been feeling pressed down on you, making it hard to find the words. How could you dump all of that on him? How could you tell him about the overwhelming loneliness, the endless nights spent crying yourself to sleep, the constant feeling of being invisible? You swallowed hard, your hands fidgeting nervously.

Finally, with a deep sigh, you let the words spill out. Once you started, you couldn’t stop. You told him everything — how you felt like no one really saw you, how you struggled to find your place, and how every night the loneliness crept in, leaving you in tears until exhaustion claimed you. Your voice wavered, but Sero never interrupted. He just listened, his expression soft, his focus entirely on you.

By the time you finished, you felt exposed, raw, like you’d laid your entire soul bare. But instead of judgment, there was only understanding in his eyes. For the first time in a long while, you felt heard. Truly heard.

Sero stood there for a moment, his eyes fixed on you, quiet and thoughtful. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady.

“I’m sorry you’ve been carrying all of that by yourself,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to. I wish I’d noticed sooner… I really do.” He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “But I’m here now. And I mean that, Y/N. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s been weighing on you, I want you to know you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

He took a step closer, his expression soft but serious. “I’ll be here, okay? Whenever you need me. If you’re feeling like this again, if you just need someone to talk to, or even if you just need to sit with someone in silence—I’ll be there. You don’t have to say anything or explain anything. Just let me be there for you.”

His words were simple, but they carried a kind of weight that settled deep in your chest, easing some of the ache. “I know I can’t change how you’ve been feeling overnight,” he continued, “but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you don’t feel like this again. At least, not alone. You’ve got me now.”

He stood there, giving you space to process his words, his presence steady and unwavering. “One step at a time,” he added quietly. “That’s all you need to focus on. And I’ll be right there for every step.” You looked at him, and before you could stop yourself, the tears started welling up again. This time, they weren’t from sadness but from the overwhelming relief of not feeling so alone. A soft smile broke through your trembling lips as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. His arms came around you instantly, holding you close, steady and reassuring. You closed your eyes, sinking into the warmth of his embrace, letting it soothe the ache you’d been carrying for so long.

“I really needed this,” you murmured against his shoulder. “I needed someone. Thank you, Sero… for being here.”

His hold on you tightened slightly, his presence solid and grounding, as if he were silently saying, I’ve got you.

tags: @slayfics @tootiecakes234 @alon3lylov3r @just-a-hopeless-romantic @obanais-koibito Lmk if you wanna be added 🐸

Lying under the covers of her bed, Jiro plugged her headphone jack into the wall to eavesdrop on you. It wasn't the first time she had listened in on you, and knowing that you were her friend only made it worse. She couldn't resist the temptation, drawn in by the way you whimpered and moaned. The sound of your two fingers fucking your wet cunt echoed through her ears, and she longed for more - more of your sweet sounds, more of you.

Your eyes were tightly closed, lost in the sensations coursing through your body. Your hips rolled and bucked to the rhythm of your fingers, moving in and out of you with a rapid but steady pace. Your other hand ventured under your shirt, teasing and tweaking at your hardened nipple. You bit down on your lip, trying to contain the moans that threatened to spill from your lips.

Jiro couldn't help but let out a shaky breath as she listened to you, her own body responding to the sounds and movements you made. The slick sound of your arousal grew louder as you grew wetter from pleasuring yourself. Her fingers slipped down to her black shorts, easily finding her clit as she rubbed and circled her sensitive bud. In her mind, she pictured it was her fingers bringing you to such delicious heights, matching your moans with her own as she moved faster and faster.The image of you, lost in pleasure and completely at her mercy, only fueled Jiro's desire further. She matched your intensity, feeling the familiar heat building between her legs as she continued to play with herself.

The mere thought of tasting you sent a shiver down her spine. She imagined herself sucking and licking on your sensitive bud, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal. As she stuffed her fingers deep inside your gummy walls, she felt you tightening your thighs around her head. Looking up at you, seeing the pleasure taking over as loud moans escaped from your plump lips. Your head thrown back in ecstasy, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

She continued to rub her clit as she noticed you let out a desperate whine, a sound that Jiro knew all too well - the signal that you were close to climaxing. With a sense of urgency, she sped up her movements, wanting to reach orgasm at the same time as you. Your chest heaved with each breath and you bit your lip, your movements becoming sloppy as you approached the edge. "Fuck-" you whimpered, the wet sounds of her fingers filling the room and echoing in Jiro's ears. Just a few more pumps and then your body trembled as you reached your peak. Your slickness coated your cunt and wetted the bed sheet beneath you. Gasping for air, you slipped your fingers out and opened your eyes, staring up at the ceiling in a state of bliss.

Feeling your release triggered Jiro's own climax and soft moans spilled from her lips as she stilled her movements, listening to the pants escaping from your mouth. Oh how she wished it was her making you cum like this

tags: @slayfics @tootiecakes234 @tardis3202 @just-a-hopeless-romantic @obanais-koibito Lmk if you wanna be added 🐸