#Angst/comfort

[hasello]

Who’s the faker now?

Part 2

part one / next part

SO sorry it took so long, uni is killing me 😵‍💫 next parts are probably gonna be colorless, so I can post faster!

[snail-day]

It’s easy to forget that Suguru has depression.

He hides it so well. Not because he’s ashamed, it's just because he’s used to that dreaded feeling. He’s learned how to move around it, how to hold it carefully behind his glimmering violet eyes while he smooths your hair and calls you his love. He knows how to laugh, to kiss you silly, to make everything feel light and safe and whole. He makes you feel adored, every single day.

But even someone like Suguru gets tired.

Sometimes it shows in the smallest ways. Like how his laughter dies a little too quickly. How his smiles stretch wide but don’t quite reach his eyes. Or how, after you’ve been playing around - his hair loose, cheeks pink, pinning you down with that boyish look in his eyes - he suddenly goes quiet. Still. Retreats inward in the space of a breath.

You know better now. You didn’t, at first. You used to think he just needed space. That maybe he was worn out. But the more you watch, the more you see it: the way his eyes go distant, as if he’s slipping underwater. The way his body stills, acting like it takes too much effort just to exist.

He rolls onto his back, head tilted to the side, long black strands of hair fanned across the pillow like spilled ink. He stares up at the ceiling, lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. And he doesn’t say anything - not even when you look at him.

But that’s when you go to him.

You climb on top of him gently, settle your body across his chest, tuck your cheek into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t ask you to, but his arms still come up to hold you. One hand splaying across your back, the other weaving through your hair. And you feel him breathe again, slower this time. It’s easier with you there.

Because you’ve learned what kindness looks like in these moments.

It’s brushing your fingers through his hair when he’s too quiet. It’s joining him in the shower, hugging him from behind, pressing soft kisses to the broad planes of his back even when he doesn’t say a word. It’s making Soba for dinner without asking what he wants, just setting the bowl down and watching the flicker of relief pass over his face. How his shoulders relax, the tightness in his brow softens. It's curling into him at night even when the air is heavy and the heat clings to your skin, just to remind him you're not going anywhere.

He doesn't always say thank you. But you feel it in the way his hand finds yours beneath the covers. The way he tugs you just a little closer, kisses your forehead, and exhales, like maybe he can finally let go of something.

And you don’t expect him to bounce back right away. You don’t wait for the moment he becomes bright again. You just love him. Through the quiet. Through the stillness. Through the weight he carries.

Because soon, he’ll be Suguru again, cheeky and soft, tugging you into his lap, calling you all those sweet names like nothing in the world ever hurt him.

But until then, you’ll be soft enough for both of you.

[kentosmirrorball]

{SMAU}: toji getting jealous and mean with reader!

{warnings}: profanity, slutshaming, reader is referred to as “woman”, “mama”, petnames (doll, baby, pretty), angst/comfort.

̗̀➛ gojo’s version , geto’s version , nanami’s version!

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

@sobluesstuff here ya go!

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

[elixrr]

He trusts you. Over the course of your friendship, he built an unforgettable bond with you, one that was meant to last forever– and, really, it could've. It should've, he's not gullible, nor is he naive. He hardly trusts anybody, so you're a rare case— perhaps you're his final and lucky case where he can have somebody else sit with him, shoulder to shoulder, and no mask would have to be up. You're his best friend; you're his lover. You're the shoulder he can lean on, sleep on, lay on, cry on, and that's something that he hasn't had for several years.

Towards the start of your friendship, he didn't exactly see you as a friend, you were more of an acquaintance than anything. You were almost set to be treated by him the same way that he'd treat anybody else. He kept you at arms length, he kept his distance for a while.

Yet, you began to close that distance. You began to slither past his arm, growing closer to him. You were willing, and that's absolutely why you both should've been a lifetime bond.

But now you're being rushed to the emergency room— a head injury, something severe. You're unconscious, terribly injured from the fall, but you're lucky to be alive. He's lucky to have you alive, but now he waits. He waits, waits, and waits for his only trust, his only other shoulder, his only love, and he hopes that you can wake up soon.

You eventually and successfully did. You were in a coma for about a week, but you've finally opened your eyes. You're awake— you're alive! By the Archons and Aeons, that's all that matters to him.

“W– Where am I?” You mutter, eyes finally fluttering with consciousness. Typical question, probably always asked. He watches the doctors explain everything to you.

He watches your eyes as they flicker from one person to the next. One doctor, another, the last one— then to him. A smile nearly graces his face, but your eyes are taken back to begin the cycle again. That doctor to the next, then to that one doctor, then on him, and rinse and repeat. You glance at him as he stares at you, and it's as if he was just one extra person in the room, just one other doctor— out of uniform, though. As if you were saved by him, too, under his care, but your glances are as distant as they are for the other doctors.

Your gaze is unrecognizable. His is the same as ever.

“Who are... You guys?” You ask. ‘Who are you?’ is and would've been fine as long as you looked at somebody that wasn't him, but he's not gullible; he's not naive, and that's the thing. He immediately realizes that you don't recognize him.

He says your name without thinking.

“Do you...” He hesitates, but pursues. “Do you remember me?”

“No, sorry? Have we met before?” The words are fluent, so you didn't hesitate—

—so you don't remember him.

“Amnesia?” One of the doctors mutters, and that's when he realizes that it's all over for him.

He doesn't have another shoulder. He doesn't have a best friend. He doesn't have a lover.

He doesn't have you anymore.

He looks at you, and you look at him. Your eyes are finally fixed onto each other, but you're so distant, so far away from him now. You're both in the same room, but an unavoidable and terrifying distance is built between you two.

“What's your name, then?” You still ask.

The distance shortens. Are you still willing?

“You seem... really upset that I can't remember you. Maybe if you tell me your name, I can remember you?”

Are you really still willing?

He says his name.

“That's a nice name. Sorry, I can't remember, but I'll try.”

“You're willing?” He blurts.

“Of course.” You half-smile.

A sad grin grows on his face. He still loves you— he can feel it deep down inside. You don't remember him. You probably don't even remember any of those special memories you two created that had made the both of you the duo you were, but a smile still adorns his face regardless. You're alive.

And you're still willing.

And, because of that, your bond could last a lifetime.

[klausysworld]

Can you do a story where reader has been bullied her whole life from Caroline and she’s always been the second choice, since klaus came into town she’s always had a crush on him and he knew about it , when the ball came around and klaus took Caroline instead of yn she was really upset and Caroline could see that and humiliates her infront of everyone including klaus and klaus goes after her and comforts her you can choose what happens after thank you sm!!

I Could Never Compete

Caroline had always made a point of being better than me.

Whether it was turning my friends against me, taking cheer captain from me or stealing Tyler, my boyfriend from me. The worst part wasn't even that she did those things but that she did them just so she could publicly make fun of me for them.

"I mean, what are you even gonna do during the summer? It's not like she have any friends left." She'd make sure to say loud enough for Elena and Bonnie to hear, making them stare right at me. She told Elena that I tried to make-out with Matt whilst they were together and she told Bonnie that I was making fun of her for being abandoned by her mother. Neither were true, at all but I couldn't exactly prove it and Caroline only had to tell the lie to a few other people before everyone was believing it.

"Please, you've let yourself go. That's why you can't be captain anymore, just look at yourself. The whole squad knows it." She'd tell me in front of all the girls on the team and trying out for the team. It made me angry because I knew I was actually better than her in this but she made everyone think I was useless. I had been training years more than her, a hundred times harder. My diet was to make sure I could compete in cheer and dance, ballet specifically which she also had to get into and when we were little she pushed me over so my ankle was hurt and she could do swan lake instead of me.

"You didn't really think that someone could love you? Even like you when I'm in the picture? Tyler's stupid but he's not that thick. He has eyes and he has a dick and he knows what's better for both. I bet he didn't even want to touch you, you ugly pig." She spat. We were at a party and Tyler had tried to apologise to me but she cut in. Everyone went silent and watched as my face went red and my eyes blurred with tears. It was Stefan that lead me away, it was at his house after all. But I think he was the first person to imply that he didn't believe all of the things said about me and he told me that Elena had questioned the rumours to him. I should have been relieved that someone believed me but the effects had already happened and the truth probably wouldn't make my life any easier at that point so I just thanked him and went home.

I don't really know why I thought Klaus would be different, maybe because she already had Tyler and that should've been enough? Of course not.

But I didn't expect it from Klaus. He's over a thousand and surely much more mature than a teenage boy tempted by another girl. It hurt me when Tyler cheated, obviously it did, however I could make sense of that. I couldn't make sense of what Caroline could have said or done to make Klaus switch up so easily.

Especially with how he'd been.

I hadn't really loved Tyler but I think that I had actually fallen for Klaus. It wasn't just the drawings and the priceless gifts, but it was the way he looked at me and the softness he spoke with that he never seemed to use with anyone else. His touch was always just right, even when he was getting rough he was never forceful like Tyler got. He still knew not to grab too harsh or push too hard. There was something natural about being with him which made everything seem so effortless.

I guess I noticed him being a little different when his family was undaggered and awake but that was expected with the amount of stress he was under. Still, he had mentioned me meeting his mother and even told me about the ball.

There was no reason I wouldn't have gone.

I didn't have as much money as Caroline and Elena and Bonnie with their lovely big houses and hundreds of outfits. I wasn't struggling as bad as Matt anymore but I wasn't exactly stable either.

Which meant that getting a dress to be able to go to the ball and feel comfortable was really difficult for me but I made sure I did it so that I wouldn't embarrass him or myself in front of his family. I made sure not to eat the day before and the day of so that there was zero chance of bloating and I spent hours making sure I was ready before paying a taxi to take me.

I think I probably should have known something wasn't quite right when Klaus didn't even offer me a dress. Not in an entitled way but just because it was unusual for him not to. He told me he enjoyed knowing he had provided those nice things for me and that he liked knowing he was the reason for the smile on my face.

Again, the entire situation was so huge for him that I didn't expect things like that.

But I also didn't expect to walk in through those double doors and see his hand cupping her face and her gloved hands in his chest.

I could feel the lump in my throat forming, my heart racing and the humiliation already hitting.

Caroline turned her head, the loose pieces of curled hair swaying beautifully beside her face as she looked right at me, cruel smile on her lips and sadistic glint in her eyes. Klaus was still looking at her, probably admiring how the blue of the dress complimented her hair and eyes.

It was in that moment that everything she had ever called me felt real. I felt ugly, I felt cheap, I felt fat. I wanted my skin to peel off and reveal a completely different person, someone who could actually compete with Caroline's beauty.

I took a step back, ready to retreat home but I bumped into someone with a tray of champagne making the glass smash everywhere. I felt a piece dig into my ankle and it prompted a tear that was already waiting in my eye to finally cascade down my face.

When I glanced back up Klaus was hurrying toward me, his eyes holding that softness as both his hands went to my shoulders. I caught feel my breathe catching in my throat, barely escaping my chest as he tried to say something.

Caroline's hand was on his arm, pulling his hand away from me as she let out an amused scoff. "God. You literally can't get any more pathetic Y/N." She told me, her eyes scanning me over making her raise an unimpressed brow. "Ew." She stated simply. "Could have at least made an effort, no wonder he wants me-"

"Don't listen to a word out of her. Come on, love, we'll go upstairs and-" He tried to cut in but Caroline wasn't having it.

"Don't hush me. You invited me here. You gave me everything I'm wearing and you practically promised to help me take it off later." Caroline spat and I couldn't stop the cry that bubbled from my mouth. It physically hurt.

"Y/N!" I heard him yell but I wasn't there, I was outside, my heels in my hands as I went barefoot whilst running down the concrete. My breathing was fast and I refused to look back but that didn't stop him from appearing in front of me, his arms holding my against his chest as I tried to shove him off. "Please, love, please." He whispered, his tight firm so I couldn't move making me relent and just cry in his hold instead. My legs went and he was knelt on the cold floor, holding my up so the soles of my feet weren't still pressed against the tiny stones and chunks of dirt.

"Why would you bring her and not me?" I sobbed into his chest and his hands gripped me firmly.

"My mother had me invite her...I didn't imply it being anything other than platonic-"

"You gave her a dress and you held her face. You want her!" I yelled at him but he just wouldn't admit it.

"We're going to your house and I'm going to fix this, love." He told me, standing up and adjusting his hold on me before we were inside my house a second or two later.

He put me down and I was heading up stairs immediately but he was pulling me back and pleading me to sit down.

"I want out of this stupid dress, Klaus. I want it off, I want to burn it." I sniffed, my hand messily wiping the tear from my face.

"It's a beautiful dress." He whispered, his hands holding my waist so I couldn't leave. I looked up at him, his eyes as sad as mine as he leaned down to kiss my cheek and the corner of my mouth. "I shouldn't have invited her, I should have told my mother no. I should have sent you a dress and I should have picked you up myself. I'm sorry, I promise you that I'm sorry." He uttered, his hands sliding up to my face.

"I don't care that you didn't spend your stupid money on me." I whimpered and he looked down for a second.

"I know...I know, but I was going to and I didn't. I know it wouldn't have been easy for you to-"

"I handled it just fine. I got a dress and I got there, all you had to do was be there for me and you weren't, you were there with and for her."

"I wasn't. I don't want her, I don't ever even talk to her. I love you, you have to know that." His head was shaking as he spoke and his eyes were flickering between blue and gold.

"I can't compete with Caroline, Klaus, you know that." I whispered and his hand rested on the back of my head, pulling me close so our foreheads were touching.

"There is no competition. There never was and there never will be. You're mine, and I'm yours. We're gonna go upstairs and lay down and we'll stay there until you feel better, okay?" He murmured, pulling me along with him making me stumble at the reminder of the splinters in my skin and the glass by my ankle. "Fuck. Okay, c'mere." He mumbled, picking me back up and taking me up the stairs and putting me down on the bed.

"Laying here isn't going to make anything better, Klaus." I sighed, trying to ignore the pain as he grabbed the tweezers from my drawer and cleaned me up.

"Then we'll go somewhere, we'll go to Europe and I'll take you to France and Greece and Spain- Italy!" He listed, clearly getting more and more stressed as he bit his hand and let the blood drip into a glass of water, his finger swirled it round before he was urging me to drink it, holding my legs in his hands to watch the wounds disappear.

"I don't care about those places, I just cared about you." I sniffled and he frowned, laying down beside me and pulling me onto him.

"You still care about me now. I know you do and some stupid girl isn't ruining that. I don't love often but I love you and you're not going anywhere." He stated, no room for argument as his tone got colder.

His eyes resoftened when he looked back at me and he just wouldn't let go of me until I told him it was okay.

I wondered if it had been any other girl, if I would have felt as bad as I did now. Was there something wrong with me? Or was Caroline just that perfect?

[lustlovehart]

Hiii! I've never done this before but... What if Scara and reader had a fight... Like a fight fight... and reader was seriously injured due to him being blinded be emotions... What do you think would the aftermath of this...?

A/n: Yet again, another ask that i was originally gonna js give a short thought to, turned into something longer *sigh* (I need to stop doing this).

Summary: [Angst/Comfort ] He could never say sorry, even in the moments it mattered.

Warnings: Harm to reader, Scars, Unrealistic Writing of getting hit with lightning

During his time in the fatui, no one exactly had the galls of stopping his rampages. The balladeer is quite famed for his regular intervals of anger, you’re no stranger to it yourself, you’ve seen him mad. it’s just…

Hes never been angry towards you.

You’d get the occasionally scoff every now and then if you uttered something he found foolish, but never has he lashed out at you to such a degree. Not to this level. He’s painfully reminded by his ignorance as soon as his hand crafted eyes lay sight upon your bare form, a body, a human body, covered in scars from lightning. Lightning he inherited, lightning he engaged, lightning he struck you with.

There’s no doubt, the silence is defeaning while you sit with him in the empty room, waiting for one of the medical professionals in the fatui to check on you.

He’s silent. It’s rare. He’s never been quiet for more than 5 minutes with you. He’s either complaining or attempting to make small talk a vast majority of the time, typically the former. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t even stare at you like he always does. You’re about to break the silence before the harbinger breaks it for you.

“You don’t look okay.” He doesn’t look at you, his vision trained on the white tile at his feet.

“Yeah. you struck me with lightning.”

…

“oh.”

It doesn’t hit you until he releases a quiet ‘oh’ from his mouth. Something you probably know better than anyone else that has been on teyvat within his 500 year lifespan.

This man can not say sorry.

“oh? Oh? Kunikuzushi put your pride away for one second.” you don’t try to hide the frustration in your voice. You truly did not mind the eccentricities the puppet in front of you holds, you never did, not even when you first met him.

He still doesn’t answer but you can see the way his face winces and widens in the same moment. Seems he got way too accustomed to ‘Kuni��� and ‘Scara’ to remember that you do in fact remember his given name.

“What else should I say to you? I’ll strike harder next time?” He isn’t getting mad, he was only infuriated earlier, but not now. You can see his demeanor start changing. Whether it be in the direction you want it to go, you’re not sure yet.

“Maybe a sorry? An apology? A “oh forgive me [Name] I love you so much?” He doesn’t answer you, he only scoffs and fall back onto the back of his chair. You don’t miss the way his fingers dig into the cloth of his clothing, probably using it as a replacement for human skin.

The man can’t breathe, but you can hear him inhale and exhale before his next words.

“i don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to- well not at you.” It comes out softer than the other words hes said to you the entire period of time in the room. His eyes are finally off the floor, trying their best to maintain contact with your own.

Once again, all thats left between the space of you two, is silence. You look away from him for a moment, fiddling with the blanket draped over your legs. You’d like to assume that’s the closest you’ll get to an ‘I’m sorry from him’, but you can’t accept that, so you don’t reply. Ever since waking up, you never were able to see the scars on your body, only the ones on your arms. You wonder if they look hideous.

Your hand reaches behind you to your back, your fingers grazing whatever part you assume suffers scarring.

“Are you worried about how it looks?”

“No, not at all, fighting is commonplace in the fatui.”

“Lying isn’t good, you told me that yourself didn’t you?” Damn him and his pristine memory. You can never remember where you leave your keys yet he can remember things you’ve said to him years ago?

…

“No matter how scarred and beaten you are you’re still [Name] are you not?” With the way he’s looking at you, you’re sure this is another thing he’d want to keep out of the publics knowledge. “Even without your face i’d strike someone down for you in an instant.”

“Oh like you did to me?”

“…” Seems the sweet moment was ruined. You don’t mind though, it’s funny to you.

The weeks that followed still held some tension. You’d refused to see him for awhile. When asked by some trembling lower subordinate, one in which the harbinger had personally sent, why you weren’t seeing him, your reply made the soldier fear for his own downfall.

“He’s insufferable right now. I’ll talk to him when he shows me he’s not a man child who can’t admit his faults.” You’ve always been able to put up with his outbursts, but right now, you realize maybe you should turn up your attitude with him.

After that unfortunate event, not unfortunate for you, for the fatuss, your days have seemingly been more dull. You’ve forgotten just how eccentric the balladeer is. Waking up never seemed so boring, the puppet would either be by your side in the early mornings, or knocking on the door ready to whisk you away.

Seems that routine is coming back.

“Oh? Have you finally swallowed your ego-“

“I’m sorry.”

Seems he couldn’t go any longer without you, how sweet.

Tagging this, I was super confused if this could be characterized as angst w/ comfort or fluff. I just did both though.

[sweetlyvibe]

𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡

PAIRING : Osamu Miya x F!Reader ,

GENRE : angst/comfort

WC: 2.5k

SUMMARY : Osamu Miya always felt second to his brother, Atsumu, especially in love. But when you confess your feelings to Osamu, he’s shocked—especially when he discovers Atsumu likes you too.

CONTENT/WARNINGS : Insecurity, love triangle, jealousy, emotional conflict, unrequited love, use of y/n, Imk if i missed anything!

Osamu Miya wasn’t one to get hung up on things. Life was simple for him—school, volleyball, helping at the family restaurant. He wasn’t chasing after big dreams like his twin brother, Atsumu, who wanted to be the best setter in Japan. No, Osamu was content with keeping things balanced. It was probably why everyone gravitated toward Atsumu more than him, and he was fine with that. At least, he used to be.

But it started to sting a little when it came to you.

Every time he saw you laughing at one of Atsumu’s jokes, or worse, when he caught his brother bragging about how you looked at him during practice, it was like a knot in his stomach that wouldn’t loosen. Osamu knew Atsumu had charm, that magnetic pull that brought people in effortlessly. Atsumu would get confessions left and right, girls practically fawning over him, while Osamu stayed on the sidelines. Not that it bothered him most of the time—those girls didn’t even bother to learn the difference between the two.

But you weren’t like most girls. That’s what made it harder for him. And maybe that’s why Osamu was convinced you’d never look at him the way you looked at Atsumu.

Because who would?

Osamu couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized he liked you more than he wanted to admit. It was probably one of those quiet moments after practice, when you smiled at him like he was the only one in the room. But then, without fail, Atsumu would butt in with his usual confidence, and you’d shift your attention back to his brother. Osamu would shrug it off, pretending like it didn’t matter, like he didn’t notice the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you.

As much as it bothered him, Osamu didn’t hate his brother for it. Atsumu was his twin, after all. They didn’t talk much about feelings, but Osamu could tell that Atsumu liked you too. That should’ve been enough to stop him from getting his hopes up. Atsumu was always the one people chose—why would this time be any different?

Osamu tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. He was fine just being your friend, having quiet conversations with you when Atsumu wasn’t around to steal the spotlight. But the more he thought about it, the more it felt like he was stuck in his brother’s shadow, unable to step out and tell you how he really felt.

He wasn’t flashy like Atsumu. He didn’t have the same loud confidence, the same need to be seen by everyone. And maybe that’s why he believed he didn’t stand a chance with you. You were friendly with him, sure, but so was everyone else. To Osamu, he was just the other Miya twin—the quieter one, the one you probably didn’t see in the same way.

The day everything turned upside down started off like any other. It was a slow morning after practice, and Osamu was heading to the lockers to grab his things. His mind was still on the game—what they could’ve done better, how Atsumu had nagged at him for missing a spike, the usual banter. He didn’t even notice the small piece of paper sticking out of his locker until he was pulling out his shoes.

At first, Osamu thought it was some leftover flyer from the school festival or something, but when he opened it, his stomach dropped.

It was a letter.

A love letter.

Osamu stared at it, his mind struggling to catch up. The neat handwriting spelled out his name, and a few lines below, a simple but direct confession. His heart started beating faster than he wanted to admit, and for a second, he wondered if this was some kind of joke. Him? Getting a love letter?

But then, he saw the name at the bottom.

Your name.

Osamu blinked, rereading it, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But there it was, in your handwriting, as clear as day. You liked him?

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think. All this time, Osamu had convinced himself that you were like everyone else, that you probably had a crush on Atsumu like most people did. But this letter—it was real. You liked him, not his brother. It was like the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him standing on unsteady footing.

A part of Osamu felt guilty. He knew Atsumu liked you—he could see it in the way his brother tried to impress you, how he talked about you after practice like you were someone special. And here Osamu was, holding the proof that you liked him instead.

Later that day, when Osamu saw you, his heart did this strange thing, like it couldn’t decide whether to race or stop entirely. You didn’t seem different, didn’t act any different. You were just you, smiling at him like you always did when you passed by.

Osamu thought about how easy it would be to just pretend he never saw the letter. Maybe it would be better for everyone. He could ignore it, let you and Atsumu have a shot at each other. Atsumu was better at this sort of thing—more confident, more open. He wouldn’t hesitate like Osamu was doing now. Maybe it was selfish for Osamu to think he deserved your attention.

But then he remembered the way your handwriting had spelled out his name, how you’d written that you liked him, not Atsumu. And that was enough to push him to act.

Osamu found himself waiting for you after class. His nerves twisted in his stomach the whole time, but when you finally came out, you looked surprised to see him standing there.

“Hey,” Osamu said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we talk for a second?”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Sure, what’s up?”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded letter. “I found this… in my locker.”

Your eyes widened when you saw the letter, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. Osamu couldn’t read your expression, and he didn’t know what to expect. Did you regret it? Was it a joke? Had you written it by mistake?

“I… I didn’t know if I should bring it up,” Osamu admitted, unsure of how to navigate the situation. “But… is it real? Like, do you really…?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, nodding. “Yeah, it’s real. I wasn’t sure if you’d see it, or if you’d even want to talk about it, but… yeah.”

Osamu’s heart was pounding. This was real. You really liked him. After all the doubts, after convincing himself that you were just like everyone else, you had chosen him.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d feel that way about me.”

You smiled, a small, gentle smile that made Osamu’s heart race all over again. “Why wouldn’t I? I like you because you’re you, Osamu. You’re thoughtful, calm, and funny in a way that doesn’t need attention. You don’t try to be anyone else. I like that. I like you.”

Osamu could hardly believe what he was hearing. The words didn’t feel real, like they belonged in someone else’s life. Yet here you were, standing in front of him, looking at him with eyes that said you meant every word.

“I like you too,” Osamu finally managed to say, the words clumsy but honest. “I just didn’t think I had a chance.”

You stepped a little closer, your voice soft but clear. “Well, now you know. You do.”

The next few days passed in a blur, Osamu floating through them with a mixture of disbelief and happiness. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, about the fact that you had chosen him. For the first time, he didn’t feel like he was just the other Miya twin. He was someone you saw, someone you liked.

But there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Atsumu. He hadn’t told him yet, and he wasn’t sure how to. Osamu knew his brother better than anyone. He knew that Atsumu didn’t take rejection well, especially when it came to something he cared about. And even though you hadn’t outright rejected Atsumu, Osamu knew that his brother liked you. A lot.

The storm was coming, and Osamu couldn’t avoid it forever.

It came sooner than he expected. A few days later, after practice, Atsumu cornered him in the locker room, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Oi, Osamu,” Atsumu called out, leaning against the lockers. “Guess what? I think Y/N’s about to confess to me.”

Osamu froze, pretending to busy himself with his things. “Oh yeah?” he muttered, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah,” Atsumu went on, oblivious to the tension building. “She’s been hangin’ around me a lot more lately. It’s only a matter of time, I can feel it.”

Osamu’s stomach twisted. He knew this moment was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Atsumu continued talking, his voice filled with excitement. “I’ve been waitin’ for this. I think she’s finally gonna make a move.”

Osamu clenched his fists, his heart pounding. He couldn’t avoid it any longer. “Atsumu… about that.”

Atsumu frowned, his smirk faltering as he noticed the serious tone in Osamu’s voice. “What? You jealous or somethin’?”

Osamu shook his head. “No. It’s just… she already confessed.”

Atsumu blinked in confusion. “She already confessed to me?”

“No,” Osamu said quietly, feeling the weight of his words. “She confessed to me.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Atsumu stared at him, processing what Osamu had just said. Then his confusion shifted into disbelief, followed by a slow dawning of understanding.

“Wait… what?” Atsumu’s voice was quieter now, almost cautious. “You’re tellin’ me… she chose you?”

Osamu nodded, his chest tightening. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but there was no way around it. “Yeah. She left a letter in my locker. She told me she likes me.”

Atsumu’s face was unreadable for a few seconds, the smirk completely gone now. The playful, teasing edge that usually colored his voice was nowhere to be found.

“So, she… likes you?” Atsumu asked again, his tone flat, like he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

Osamu felt a surge of guilt. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I didn’t plan this, Atsumu. I didn’t think she’d—”

“It’s fine,” Atsumu cut him off, his voice sharp. “You don’t need to explain.”

The air between them grew tense, and Osamu could see the hurt flicker across Atsumu’s face, even though his brother was doing his best to hide it. Atsumu had never been good at dealing with rejection—he thrived on being wanted, on being the center of attention. And now, for the first time, someone had chosen Osamu over him.

Atsumu let out a bitter laugh, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, ain’t that somethin’. Guess I’m not as irresistible as I thought.”

Osamu winced at the sarcastic tone, wishing there was a way to make this easier. He knew Atsumu’s pride was bruised, and no amount of explanation would change that.

“Look, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Osamu started, but Atsumu held up a hand, cutting him off again.

“It’s fine, Osamu,” Atsumu repeated, though his voice was tight with frustration. “You don’t have to explain.”

The silence that followed was heavy, both brothers unsure of what to say next. Atsumu ran a hand through his hair, glancing away as if trying to process everything.

“Guess you finally one-upped me, huh?” Atsumu said with a forced smirk, though the bitterness in his voice was hard to miss.

Osamu wanted to say something, anything to make this less painful, but before he could, Atsumu turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Don’t worry about it, ‘Samu. I’ll be fine.”

And with that, Atsumu walked out of the locker room, leaving Osamu standing there alone, a mix of relief and guilt swirling in his chest.

The days after that conversation were strange. Atsumu wasn’t the type to stay upset for long, and soon enough, he was back to his usual self, at least on the surface. He still joked around, still bragged and teased, but there was something different in the way he interacted with Osamu. It wasn’t obvious to most people, but Osamu could tell. There was a slight distance between them, an unspoken tension that neither of them wanted to address directly.

But despite the guilt Osamu felt, there was something else too—something warm and undeniable that came from knowing you had chosen him. Whenever he saw you, his heart would race in that unfamiliar, but welcome way. You were still you, kind and thoughtful, treating him the same way you always had, but now there was something more between the two of you. Something real.

Osamu still wasn’t used to it, the idea that you liked him, but he was trying to get there. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be the one in this position—that Atsumu was supposed to be the one who got your attention, not him. But every time you smiled at him or laughed at one of his dry comments, those insecurities faded a little more.

One afternoon, a few weeks after the confession, Osamu found himself sitting next to you outside the school, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the courtyard. You were talking about something—Osamu wasn’t really paying attention, his mind too busy replaying everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

“Osamu?” you said, nudging him gently. “You’re spacing out.”

He blinked, realizing he hadn’t been listening. “Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just thinkin’.”

You tilted your head, giving him a curious look. “About what?”

Osamu hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring it up. But something about the way you were looking at him made him feel like he could be honest. “I still don’t get why you chose me,” he admitted quietly. “I just… I didn’t think I was the type of guy someone would go for. Especially when Atsumu’s right there.”

You frowned slightly, shifting closer to him. “Osamu, I already told you. I chose you because you’re you. Atsumu’s great, but… he’s not you.”

Osamu looked at you, a mixture of surprise and warmth filling his chest. He’d heard you say it before, but each time, it felt like he was hearing it for the first time.

You reached out, gently resting your hand on his. “You don’t have to compare yourself to him. I don’t. I like you for who you are, Osamu. And nothing’s going to change that.”

For the first time in a long while, Osamu felt like he didn’t have to live in his brother’s shadow. You saw him, just as he was, and that was enough.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked at you. “Thanks,” he said softly. “That… means a lot.”

You smiled back, squeezing his hand gently. “Anytime.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Osamu Miya felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

. 🏐 〃 ⋯ TAGGING : : @0samuslove @yoghurtsan @lxdymoon0357 @achy-boo

[clare-875]

His Answer (Law x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Law x Female Reader Summary: Having faced countless rejections in the past, you don't know what to do when you fall for your Captain, but little do you know he's hopelessly in love with you Warnings: Angst/Fluff, Unusually soft Law, Slightly suggestive [One Piece Masterlist] _____

Fuck.

You cannot believe you have let yourself get in so deep once again. You cannot believe that you have let your guard down so much so that you subconsciously twisted barricades you were sure to have kept around yourself; he had made his way into your heart. You cannot believe that you have allowed yourself to hope so much; to allow your mind to wonder about the notion of you and him. Not again, please not again. Your mind is frantic but your heart still pounds when your gaze wanders through the room to the man it had devoted itself to. You have tried and failed to stop the burning and falling feeling in your chest whenever you saw him, but you were terrified that you have once again fallen for someone who does not return your affections. The past had shown you countless times, that you were scarcely anyone's one. Your feelings had been toyed with, your devotion slandered and you have met betrayal and rejection all the same. And yet, despite your history portraying, that love was possibly impossible for you, you have found yourself entrapped once again by that feeling. But somehow it was worse this time; you have allowed yourself to fall for the Surgeon of Death, your Captain, Trafalgar Law.

Your heart constricts when you feel his keen eyes meet yours and you find yourself turning away instantly, feeling the flush of your face he so easily pulls from you. You had fallen for love's lures once again. You have found yourself so deep within your feelings that you hadn't even realised until it was too late. But you prayed to God it wasn't too late to somehow reverse it. You cannot remember the number of times you have felt this way, only to find yourself so... disappointed. It was torturous, the feeling of loving someone you could never have or loving someone who clearly did not feel the same way. It was exhausting, offering your love to those who would not take it, or worse, those who would end up toying with it. How many times have you fallen for the wrong "one"? How many times have you let them pull the strings on your heart for their satisfaction, but not yours? You don't think you could live through another rejection, another turmoil, another grievance of a love that never even began; especially if it was him.

So, despite feeling his questioning gaze at your sudden movements, you find yourself quickly walking out of the room and to yours. Despite feeling the eyes of the crew, or hearing Shachi’s voice as he calls to you, you simply needed to leave. You needed air free of the room he was in, to just think and to possibly help to precede the inevitable feeling of dejection you would feel when you find your affections rejected once again. No. You would never confess, you promised that to yourself. But you would see the signs of rejection anyway as you did: his attention on another, his passive words to you, his distancing. But would that really be how Law would react to your blatant affections? He was so different to the ones you found yourself devoted to before. Law, the man who had asked you to join him as you found yourself alone on an island he passed by. Law, the man that patched you up of injuries no matter how small or big they were. Law, who granted you the slight upturn of lips whenever it was just the two of you. Law, your Captain; your friend.

You simply adored him.

You loved the way the low light would capture flickers in his gaze. You adored the care he so intricately hid behind a nonchalant facade. You loved the way he was so devoted to the crew, to their health, to their missions and their goals. You could find yourself daydreaming about his toned form, his nimble hands, his raven locks. Stop. The word would resonate deep in your mind, but you couldn't help yourself. Your adoration was so profound it terrified you. He could never feel the same. Disappointment and rejection have seeped too far within you to think otherwise. You expect love to be strenuous and dissatisfying, torturous and hard. You could never think that he could ever feel the same. The mere thought of your unworthy self makes tears of frustration build in your eyes, but you prevent them from falling. I'm so stupid, how have I let myself fall for him so deeply?

He will never see me the same way.

Unbeknownst to you, the very man your thoughts linger around stares blankly at the spot you have abruptly moved from. His gaze lingers in your absence but his mind is shrouded by events of the past weeks. His head is awhirl with memories of you adverting your gaze and seeking distance from his side. He remembers how when usually comfortable silence would envelop the air between the two of you, it had become tainted with apprehension and your obvious unease. He thinks of how the light-hearted conversations you would pull from him so easily were now blended into nothingness, and instead of your sweet voice, he was met with silence whenever you were near. Even in the unlikely event where he tempted conversation or the sound of your soothing voice or the sight of your joyful smile, he was merely gifted short and nervous answers, or worse a lingering frown. He had barely seen your eyes meet his recently, but whenever they did they seemed troubled and almost sad. Even by the mere memory, Law wonders why his heart clenches against his chest, or why he despised the instability of your usual sure presence beside him.

Deep down, however, he knew.

As a doctor, he showed no symptoms of illness or injury, and he recognised the simple fact that somehow you had won his affections. Somehow you had what he thought was his dead heart, thrumming to life whenever you were near. Somehow you have him missing your glistening eyes and your light laughter. Somehow you have his gaze, lingering on your lips in wonderment at how they might feel against his. Somehow you have the flush of tenderness reach his face whenever you are near. Somehow... you have the Surgeon of Death wrapped around your finger, and you don't even know it. However, if there was something Law was sure of, it was that you were not yourself around him anymore and that he hated it. He wondered if he had upset you, or worse, hurt you somehow. But despite his thoughts beating erratically around his head, he could find no answer; he didn't know why you were suddenly avoiding him.

Well, luckily for him, the crew was not as oblivious as you or him.

"Oi Shachi, what's up with [y/n]-ya recently?" Law calls his crewmate after he hears him calling after you, but to his surprise, a knowing look is placed in his irises. "You really don't know Captain?" More crewmates linger around him, and Law finds swift irritation brim as he sees more grins reach his crew's faces. "They're both so hopeless honestly." It is Penguin who now speaks up rolling his eyes at his oblivious Captain, and the painfully obvious crush you harboured. Even Bepo joins in with a shake of his head and a heavy sigh. "Tch, what is it?" Law's voice is sharp as more members of the crew add in on their laughter or disbelief that he had not realised yet what your strange behaviour had been about. Just what was he not aware of? "You men really are hopeless." Law turns to Ikkaku's voice that cuts off his words and sees her frown and sigh. "She obviously likes you, Captain." Ikkaku looks to Law, hoping you might forgive her for her interference, just to put the both of you out of your endless misery.

"And it's obvious, you like her too."

"What?" Law is stunned, to say the least, and he finds himself rooted to his spot. You... you like him? He feels his heart pounding just at the thought of it, but suddenly it all makes sense. Your strange behaviour and adverted eyes, the lingering embarrassment on your face whenever he caught you looking at him. You liked him. "Well, maybe like is an understatement..." He hears Ikkaku mutter once again as she turns to her Captain, but the frown has yet to leave her face. She remembers how you had finally told her what troubled you after she witnessed your gloomy state for too long. As the only women of the crew, the two of you were close, but that meant she also knew of what men and love had done to you in the past. She knew her Captain might be different, but she never wanted to see that look on your face again. "You better go to her Captain, just don't hurt her." With that she leaves, continuing on her duties and ignoring the wide gapes of her crewmembers that stare at her in astonishment.

She had actually said the truth aloud.

When Law finally finds himself back to reality he turns to his crew members who quickly advert their gaze at his sharp eyes. They pick their jaws off the ground and continue about their duties, but to Law, only one thing mattered; he needed to talk to you. And so, despite the sudden silence of the crew, they looked to their Captain in wonderment as he walked slowly out of the room in search of you. His footsteps echoed the quiet of the polar tang, and when he reached your door he hesitated but found himself knocking gently anyway. You on the other hand had finally collected your thoughts and resigned yourself to the inevitable truth, that he would not feel the same. So, imagine your surprise when you hear his voice coming from beyond your door. "[y/n]-ya." You hear a knock and Law's hesitant call of your name, and you are nervous but find no reason not to open your door, and so you do. When you look up, however, you are shocked to bear witness to the softness of his usually sharp eyes.

"L-Law?"

Your voice mirrors his hesitancy but his gaze does not move from yours as he steps into your room and turns to you at his side, you barely have enough time to hear the click of the door as Law closes it shut. "You've been avoiding me." Your heart pounds but even Law is surprised at the bluntness in his low words, but his movements don't falter and his sharp grey eyes still look to you. You see the frown on his face and his calculating gaze, and you find yourself reaching for words you can't find. "I- Law I-" He moves closer to you now so that he is almost hovering, and your heart beats faster at the proximity you have tried to avoid for the past few weeks. "Law what- what are you doing?" Your voice shakes as your mind churns with his sudden movements, at a loss for his sudden actions. "Do you like me [y/n]-ya?" He turns down to meet your gaze and he sees the way your eyes enlarge at his uttered words, but he feels himself stop his boldness when he witnesses the tremble of your lips.

"[y/n]-ya?" His keen eyes suddenly soften of their intensity as they turn to confusion to you, who seems to have a fierce internal battle occurring beyond your eyes. There is silence and Law does not know what to say, but you fill the silence with your words in his stead. "Who told you?" Your voice is small, but you continue anyway after a short laugh "You know what, it doesn't matter." Law is confused at the dejected tone in your words and suddenly wonders if he has done something wrong, but he is stunned to silence at your next sentiment. "You don't have to pretend you know." Your briefly adverted gaze meets his again in strange determination. "You don't have to do this, you don't have to pity me, I- I know you won't feel the same, I-" Your voice hitches and you curse your emotions for getting the best of you. "I'll get over it... so please don't do this." Law feels his heart clench at your low words, your sadness, your lack of even believing he might feel the same way. He even feels anger, just what had you gone through to think this way.

How could you not see your beauty, your talent, your strength? How could you not see your utter perfection, or how he had dreamed that just maybe he would be enough for you? How could you think the opposite, how could you think you were not worthy? "[y/n]-ya..." You ready yourself for the rejection, you are ready for the inevitable apology and the friendship lost to your stupid devotions once again. You are ready for the lowly uttered "no" and for his regretful gaze. You feel your heart break despite you chanting that it will be okay endlessly in your head. You would get over it again, somehow. But instead of the words you so denied to utterly dread, you feel a hand guiding your lowered gaze upward.

"[y/n]"

Your eyes snap open and you meet his gaze that was full of a sort of emotion you never thought you would see from your Captain. You had never heard your name uttered from him in that way. But his voice and gaze are sure. You see the intensity of his eyes now veering into yours. You feel his hot breath against your skin. He is so close. So close you can almost- He moves then, leaning down to capture your lips and you let him. You meet him in the middle, and it was better than you imagined; it was better than he dreamed. Your lips were so soft, so sweet and he felt your hands move to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt the heat of him rise against your touch and felt his own hold wander to your waist where he pulled you to him. You were in shock, but there was undeniability in his movements and in his gaze. The both of you parted after several long moments and stood heads leant against each other as you breathed in.

"[y/n]-ya, I'm in love with you."

Your heart constricts and tears brim your eyes as you nod slowly against him, and you can't help but let out a laugh that has the corners of Law's lips lifting too. "I love you too, Law." It was hard to describe the utter joy and relief you felt, or the trust that you chose to put in your Captain, but how could you not? You had never seen eyes gleam the way his did when they looked to you; full of love returned. Nevertheless, your crew members did not see the both of you for several long hours after Law's sudden absence to seek you out. But they also didn't fail to tease the both of you when you joined them for supper; hands lingering against the other, a flush to your faces, your subtle smiles etched with contentment. He was who you had waited for, and he was the person meant for you. You never thought you would be grateful for the rejections you faced in the past, but when you turned to him you were full of the feeling.

His answer was all that you needed.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Small Cuts

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 1.7 K summary: Red Hood saves you from the chaos, being scared shitless warnings: standard Gotham violence, description of minor injuries, (panic attack), slight angst/comfort, established relationship a/n: for my loyal Red Hood fans (you know who you are), here's a special drabble I came up with while looking through my notes. have fun (divider)

Jason quickly dodges another punch, putting a bullet between the muggers eyes. Yes, Bruce said no guns and killing, but he isn‘t Bruce. He doesn‘t care, these shits need to go down, they did that themselves by doing wrongs. It seems that Dick managed to escort as many civilians as possible from the mall, getting back to his brother to fight by his side. He knows Bane is a powerful guy, but his small army seems to be quite strong too. It‘s annoying him, he probably has a broken rib by now, and the cuts along his body sting, it getting more difficult to fight against the remaining soldiers.

A scarily familiar, shrill scream sounds amidst the chaos, his breath hitching under his mask. He really hopes it‘s not the person he thinks it is. With a quick punch to the other‘s head, he can search for who screamed, already cursing Dick for not clearing the floor properly. It seems like he is on autopilot, remembering you telling him about going on a quick shop to the mall, see if there is anything new. That same mall he is fighting criminals in right now.

He finally spots you, trapped between the wall and a huge shelf that crashed against it, you being in between it. There is just enough space for you to fit in, but not enough to crawl out of it on your own. Besides, you‘ve never looked so terrified before, not even able to breath properly in your panicked state.

Without sharing another glance, he runs up to you and pushes the shelf away from the wall, grunting at how heavy it is. Now that the huge weight is off, you intake a deep breath, close to hyperventilating again. You can‘t even register who is in front of you or that you are free again.

Jason really wants to just let the medics from outside take care of you, but he can‘t. He carefully scoops you up, holding your head close against him, as he hurries away from the fighting scene, patting your back softly with his other hand. Meanwhile, you can barely register that you aren‘t crushed between the wall anymore, but in someone‘s arms, taking you away.

»S- Lady, you‘re alright! I‘m bringing you to safety, you‘re gonna be okay.«

The slightly distorted voice attempts to calm you down, doing little to actually make you stop from panicking. Jason cursed himself inwardly as he almost slipped, having to keep his secret identity from you while still outside, being close to giving up and patching you up right here; call you his favourite nicknames and petnames. It‘s not like he doesn‘t trust you, no, he would do anything for you because you‘d do anything for him. He still sometimes cries himself to sleep, thinking he doesn‘t deserve you. Now, he is close to crying again, but not because of that. His world is injured, because he wasn‘t careful enough. He should‘ve been the one escorting civilians, maybe he would have spotted you sooner.

With quick strides, Jason finally sets you down onto his couch. These are the rare moments he is glad he lives close to the mall, being still dead-concerned about you.

Your knee is badly scraped, a couple of dark bruises littering on your exposed skin, small cuts across your face.Oh, your pretty face. It‘s all his fault.

As if on instinct, he gets his med kit and kneels down in front of the couch, craddling your face in his hands. Now safe in his apartment, he doesn‘t care about his secret identity being revealed to you, he just wants to make this better.

»Darling, I‘m here, don‘t you worry, okay? It‘s me, Jason. Jay-jay.«

Before you can respond, he takes off his helmet and discards it to the floor, cleaning your small scrapes around his face carefully. His fingers barely touch your skin, the wet rug gently cleaning the little blood off of your forehead and cheeks, his own face looking way worse than yours.

Gasping, you finally take in his face and feel a rush of worry again. Leaning up, you cup his cheek, seeing his black eye and cut across his chin. He looks absolutely done, yet he is still on his knees, cleaning at your own wounds.

He is immediately alerted, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. He doesn‘t seem to realise he is injured as well.

»W-what is it? Did I hurt you?« What is that question? Of course he hurt you, he should‘ve been there way sooner.

Taking a deep breath, you try to use your voice; being still shaken up and weak.

»Your fucking eye...« Jason frowns even more at your weak voice, huffing out and leaning you back down on your back. He bites down on his inner cheek harshly, trying to focus and work on your injuries as best as possible. Your eyes stay on his face, silently observing him as you finally start to breath more normally.

Your light scrapes sting as he cleans them up, putting small bandages over them.

»Don‘t they need you?« You croak out quietly again, whincing lightly as he cleans your scraped knee, the wet cloth becoming bloody.

»They can handle it. I need you to be safe first.« Jason mutters back, feeling guilty and bad for causing you more pain while patching you up. It hurts more but you bear through, leaning up on your elbows to see how bad your knee is. You grimace lightly, hissing at the familiar sting while he cleans your wound.

Jason doesn‘t glance to your face anymore, completely focussed on taking care of you. He carefully wraps a bandage around your knee, lifting it up a little on the couch. His fingertips barely graze your skin, his touch even more gentle than usual. Your body is still trembling from the adrenaline, slumping back on the couch with a heavy sigh. It all comes to your senses.

Jason is Red Hood. He just saved you from that terror attack in the mall. Seems to be in a worse shape than you and still patches you up as gentle as possible. He left his team behind just to take you to safety.

»Take off your shirt, need to see the bruises.«

His voice snaps you out of your slow procession of events, humming lightly in thought before carefully pulling off your shirt. It hurts to move your arms up, feeling a painful stretch around your right side. He helps you take it off, eyes quickly scanning over your big bruise around your ribs. It looks even worse now, a darker bruise evident against your right side. He wants to punch himself, he never meant to hurt you.

It‘s not even his fault. He was just fighting, not having been in charge for escorting civilians. Maybe he shouldn‘t feel guilty, he knows better than blaming himself for something that he didn‘t do. But it‘s just unfair, he could‘ve made it less worse if he only put an eye out and saw you and—

»Jason! Your nose is bleeding.«

You finally managed to pull him out of his thoughts, not knowing what to do. Jason quickly stands up again and gets the bathroom, leaning over the sink to get his nose clean and make it stop bleeding. Rushing over, you limp the way to Jason and get to his side, trying to see in what shape he is right now.

»I‘m fine, why are you standing? Get down- sit down, darling, you don‘t need to do anything.«

»I am not sitting down, you need to sit down, you‘re literally bleeding.« You argue back, trying to lead him to the bedroom.

»I‘m not sitting down, I need to get you safe— «

»I am safe.« You reassure him, seeing his hands tremble, eyes seem unfocused. Nothing really seems to help him calm down, grabbing his shoulders and forcing eye-contact.

After some more attempts of coaxing him into the bedroom, you can finally take care of him. He stands in front of the bed as you sit in front of him, patching up the few gashes along his torso.

Jason watches you the whole time, running his hand through some strands of hair occasionally. Yes, it does hurt as you bandage him up, but all he can focus on is you at the moment. Whole and safe, taking care of him finally.

He doesn‘t deserve you.

But he won‘t ever trade you for anyone else.

You don‘t need to talk once you get him all patched up and clean, both of you acting automatically once everything falls back to normal.

Jason crawls back in bed with you like this morning, carefully wrapping his arms around you, no matter how much it hurts his own body. Both tangled up in each other, comforting the other with sweet and grounding words. You are both safe now.

The small conversation paused, letting a comfortable silence fall over the room. After a few moments you speak up again, atmosphere getting lighter.

»I was dating the Red Hood all the time? For two years?«

He groans lightly, looking down at you in his arms.

»I‘m sorry, I… couldn‘t really tell you. But I wanted to, I really did.«

Jason apologises, his guilty expression pulling at your heart again.

»Wait, no, I‘m not mad. It‘s just… a nice surprise? I don‘t know, but I will buy endless Red Hood merch from now on. If you like it or not.«

You tell him with a small smile, making him pause before rolling his eyes. Of course. There‘s no way you would react badly. Especially after saving you.

a/n: WOW! really hoped you enjoyed it, i'm excited to hear your thoughts about it!!

← MASTERLIST

[urinarythreatinfection]

Hi, I really like your work with Sanji! Can I request a fanfic where the reader is a person who didn't get love from his parents as a child, but only money? The reader is a woman, if anything! How the reader will try to show her love to Sanji is your choice! Thanks in advance!

This was a bit hard at first but I ended up getting into it eventually. It might've turned out a little more angsty than I thought but I felt like it worked really well. If you aren't at 1053 i'm really sorry I put it in there bc it worked really well too.

Insecure Love

Sanji x Fem Reader. Angst/comfort and some fluff. Major Spoilers for episode 1053. 2740 words.

Sanji adores you, you’re perfect to him. Beautiful, amazing, talented, everything. You are the best woman he could ever wish for. Sometimes he even lays awake at night thinking of the memories the two of you have made, goofy smile on his face he’s so enamored. There is one problem though, just a teensy one, you’re not at all affectionate. You don’t stop him from being affectionate to you, but you don’t exactly reciprocate or initiate. Instead, you give him gifts, which was nice at first but he started to feel a bit conflicted about it the more it happened. He would rather get love from you rather than a material good you’d bought somewhere. What’s worse is that the gifts have stopped, it’s almost always just money now.

“Here.” You say blankly to Sanji while he’s cooking, handing him cash. He spots you and his eyes trail to the berri in your hand, a small frown on his face. “Is it not enough?” He jolts and quickly shakes his head.

“No, that isn’t it. Thank you.” He forces a smile and takes it, pain in his chest. Your boyfriend tries so hard to make you feel loved, cooking for you, complimenting you, showing physical affection, but all you do is hand him cash like payment for a service; like his love was simply something nice you pay him for. He’s tried refusing it before but you had gotten upset, putting it away with a sad expression until he agreed to take it. Now you look at him as he pockets it, telling himself he’ll use it to buy ingredients for a dish you’ll like. After he puts it in his pocket he hugs you, kissing you for a bit before pulling away. “I’m going to finish cooking soon, my love, would you like to stay here?” His eyes are expectant, hoping you’ll stay, but you shake your head.

“I’ll leave you to it, you should focus.” With that, you leave him alone in the kitchen. He looks at the ingredients he was chopping, the money you gave him weighing down his heart. Is this really so one-sided? Has he just been bothering you this entire time? Maybe he’s just a toy you can play with, a music box that sings for you when you put money inside. Those thoughts crowd his head as he cooks until he accidentally lifts a hot lid with his bare hand, burning his skin; but before he can go to treat it... it heals on its own. The cook grits his teeth, clenching his fist. What a creepy ability. He puts his head in his hands and takes deep breaths, it’s okay, he loves you, you’re still together.

“Are you alright?” Robin asks him as he sets food down in front of the girls, including you, completely spaced out.

“Oh, sorry Robin-chan.” He snaps out of it and smiles at her. “I’m doing okay.” The cook leaves to serve the rest of the crew, steps noticeably heavier than normal. The women watch this, then look to you.

“Did you two argue or something? What’d he do?” Nami asks, ready to defend you, but you shake your head.

“I don’t know, I thought he was okay earlier, I handed him money and he accepted like normal.” You’re confused, and they both look at eachother.

“Like normal..?” Nami asks again.

“Yeah, I’ve been giving my allowance to him since we started dating. I know he sometimes struggles with food budget so I like helping out.” You explain and the two girls stare at you.

“(Y/n) what have you been doing so far in your relationship with Sanji?” Robin questions you and you start to talk, explaining that you’ve been getting him gifts since you both started dating; but you ran out of ideas on what to give him so you’ve started to give him money when he makes you happy.

“Wow…That’s horrible.” The navigator states, starting to pity Sanji.

“Like a sugar baby?” Your jaw drops slightly at Robin’s comparison and you quickly shake your head.

“A sugar baby!?” You’re shocked but start to think about it. “Wait, is that what he wants?”

“Obviously not!” The navigator snaps at your obliviousness. “He basically collapses the moment a woman does something for him but you’ve just been giving him money?”

“Wouldn’t you like that though?” You point out and she frowns.

“That’s different.” She considers money an okay gift for her, though even she would get annoyed if she had a lover that would only give her money and ignore anything else. “Plus you hardly show him affection, I thought it was just your guys’ thing so I didn’t say anything but you’re clearly bumming him out.”

“I haven’t refused anything from him though, and I don’t get mad at him for flirting with other women.” The navigator sighs, mentally facepalming, this isn’t working out. You’re too oblivious and Sanji’s too much of an idiot to tell anyone something’s wrong, much less a woman he loves. Robin comes up with something.

“Tomorrow you should come to our room at noon. We’ll assist you” You tilt your head, confused, but agree.

That night, Sanji heads to bed still sad and only getting worse. He can’t sleep, he’s been having trouble doing so since that happened. ‘She was there, she must’ve seen.’ An unnatural thing, becoming the same type of monster he always despised. You must’ve fallen out of love with him, that’s it. He can’t blame you, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t digging a hole into his chest. He curls up into a ball on his bed, grasping at the sheets next to him like you’ll be there.

_________________

The next morning goes as it usually does on the Sunny. Sanji wakes up early to make breakfast for everyone and when they wake up it’s time to eat. The difference now is that Sanji seems off, tired, he doesn’t yell at Luffy or Zoro and his happy comments towards Robin and Nami aren’t enthusiastic. When he sets down your plate in front of you you look up at him, trying to scan his face if he’s sick. He awakened late so it would make sense if his Germa genes weren’t as strong, maybe he’s gotten sick? You’re worried and so is everyone else, except Luffy who doesn’t notice until after eating. He almost says something but is promptly elbowed so he keeps shut. He means well but mentioning it right now will make things worse, plus, the girls have a plan.

Afternoon finally strikes and you walk into the shared girls room, they aren’t there. 'Maybe I came too early?’ You think to yourself, checking the time to make sure it’s noon. Suddenly you hear footsteps and the door opens, revealing Robin, Nami, and your boyfriend. They push him inside and he spots you, looking shocked; but before he could ask what’s going on the door closes. He tries the doorknob but it’s locked, switched so the lock is on the outside.

“Don’t even try unlocking the door or breaking it down. You aren’t allowed out until you two communicate.” Nami states and footsteps are heard fading away. You stare at Sanji’s back, his hands on the wooden door. Does he not want to be with you alone with you this much? Usually he’d be excited to have time to spend with you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him and the cook turns quickly, not prepared for this. He isn’t ready yet! He still needs to prepare his heart for the breakup and practice his apologies for you falling out of love. “Sanji..” You reach a hand out to him and he flinches, pressing his back against the wall like he’s afraid of you. He’s scared to be touched by you, scared that when you feel his skin you’ll retract from fear and disgust from the steel-like flesh. It isn’t right, these misunderstandings cause pain and you bite your bottom lip. What are you doing wrong, what did Nami mean by saying what you were doing was horrible? You step away from him and turn around, the both of you too insecure to speak. Fortunately, being trapped in this room will force you to.

‘She can’t even bear to look at me.’ Negativity clouds his judgment, irrational thoughts filling his mind. “I’m sorry.” An apology, it sounds guilty. This must be a sign.

‘He’s breaking up with me…’ There’s too much stress, him avoiding you, being told something is wrong, and now this breakup. The dam of stone formed by the years of trauma starts to crack, tears dripping from your eyes. Sanji doesn’t see it, but he can hear your shaky breaths. It causes his eyes to widen and his worry for you overpowers his instinct to pull away.

“Mon cœur!?” Your lover walks to you and scans your teary face, his hands cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t have to call me that,” His heart breaks, you’re breaking up with him so he would have to stop calling you that. Your next words confuse him, though. “I know you don’t want to.” …He doesn’t want to? Sanji blinks a few times, why would he ever not want to call his everything what she is?

“What are you talking about? I-”

“Stop forcing yourself!” You yell and he jolts. “It must’ve been hard. Your love for women made you stay with me for so long but I know you don’t love me. Being hesitant about my gifts, not talking to me as much, and you're starting to look tired too.” You step back and put your face in your hands. “You must be staying up late thinking about how you could break up with me.” He stands there, shocked. Him… breaking up with you? The perfect woman completely out of his league? Tears flow from your eyes faster and he tries to make sense of it all, his brain so focused on his own faults that the thought of you being insecure of yours is unable to cross his mind.

“Do you mean the berri you’ve been giving me?” He manages to put together and you nod. He continues to think. “You… it wasn’t payment to you?” He doesn’t know what else to call it so he settles with that word.

“Payment?” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “Is that why you’ve been staying with m-”

“No, nonono of course not. I thought..” Sanji quickly interrupts you, stopping that thought. This is different from what he thought was going to happen, but it still hurts to speak his mind when it only reminds him of what’s wrong, well what he thinks is wrong. “I thought you were giving me those things as payment because you didn’t want to pay attention to me. So I wouldn’t bother you, that my love was just a transaction.” He says the last part more quietly and your heart drops. This is familiar, you’ve felt this exact way before when you were young. Going to your parents for love and only getting money in return to shut you up and get you away. You start to shake and cry harder.

“I-I, I didn’t know. I’m sorry..!” You’re just like them, but Sanji doesn’t care; hugging you.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” He’s already forgiving you and you haven’t even explained anything.

“No, it’s n-not okay.” You say while shaking your head, it’s nerve-wracking to talk about your past but you choose to. For him. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was different from my parents who would give me things instead of love, I always made sure t-to never tell you to go away or reject you but I ended up making you feel the exact same way I did!” You pull away and cover your face. “I’m horrible!”

‘The same way she did?’ He processes what you said, what’s happening. The struggle of trying so hard to be different from family only to end up like them is something he knows as well. His hand goes to his chest, pressing down and feeling almost completely dense skin instead of the regular squish of flesh; just like his brothers. “You don’t think I’m a monster…” You quickly shake your head. “Why didn’t you say so? Are you sure- I mean you never wanted to be with me!” Whenever he was cooking or if he went shopping you would just give him money and wave him off.

“I..” You think about that, then start to get embarrassed. “I didn’t want to bother you, what if I get overly clingy and get you mad?” Sanji hears this and it’s like weight has been dropped from his heart, but hearing you say this so insecurely still makes him slowly sink to the ground. “Sanji?”

“Bother me.. being clingy.” Gods, he would do anything to have you cling to him when he’s cooking or shopping. “You could never, ever, not in an eternity, ever bother me by being ‘clingy’”

“But don’t you get busy? You work so hard cooking and when you’re out shopping you’re talking with women, wouldn’t I make it awkward if I butted in?” He hangs his head in shame, the few times that you’ve agreed to go shopping he has flirted with other women; but he had assumed you didn’t care. In a way, he would do it on purpose hoping to get a reaction, even looking back at you. Anything to show a sign you loved him, that he wasn’t a toy, but all he was doing was making things worse. This lack of communication was only causing pain to you both. How could he ever make this up to you? He was already unworthy and now he had dared to cause such suffering to the love of his life. “Baby…” You crouch down and cup his face so he’s looking at you, his eyes are teary.

“I hurt you.”

“We ended up hurting each other.” You wipe his tears with your thumbs. “Do you still want to be with me? Even if I've been messing up?”

“I should be the one asking you that, treasure. My love.” Sanji hugs you, pulling you close to him so you’re on his lap. You can feel his hesitance, the fear that you’ll pull away because he’s different now, but you don’t. Instead you press closer to him, lifting your head up to look at him. You don’t really initiate kisses, so you’re nervous as you place your lips on his. He’s only shocked for a moment before he kisses back, resting his hand on the back of your neck. This is the longest series of kisses you’ve had, almost a minute before you have to pull away. “S-Sorry, I’ve gotten better at holding my breath lately.” A bit awkward it’s from something he dislikes, though.

“So I don’t have to worry if I kiss you alot?” You ask and his pupils basically turn to hearts.

“No, you don’t.” Before you two can kiss again there’s the sound of the door unlocking, making you quickly get off of Sanji’s lap as he stands up so Robin and Nami don’t see you in an awkward position. They almost think that nothing has happened but seeing the two of you clearly panicked changes their mind, making Robin smile.

“It went well, then?” Robin chuckles happily as the two of you flush. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

_______________

Sanji hums as he cooks, a good mood from making up with you so amazingly. His ears perk up when he hears you come inside, not needing to look to know it’s you. “I’m almost done, my love.” He states as he expertly flips a steak. You don’t say anything, which confuses him but before he can turn around he feels your arms wrap around him and your body press against his back. His girlfriend, who hasn’t shown real affection until yesterday, is clinging to him while he cooks. Is this a dream?

“Don’t turn around, I’m still a little shy.” You say quietly and it echoes in his mind. Shy… shy… Gods, you’re too cute. His face goes red and he falls to the side, blood seeping from his nose. “Sanji!?” You manage to stop him from slamming fully onto the ground, shaking him. He’s in heaven, this is heaven.

[trunktrash]

[Rafayel x Reader] [Synopsis] 》 Despite any apprehensions, you agree to help Rafayel with his paintings by modeling for him. Three hours later the two of you both find yourselves at your wits end. Who'll snap first? [Content] 》 Angst to Fluff : Comfort : Guilt tripping

[Still as a Statue]

"My legs are starting to hurt.", A soft mumble escapes your mouth. A slight grimace pulls at your top lip and nose.

You stand in the middle of Rafayel's living room, surrounded by his piles upon piles of half finished paintings. You're posed quite gracefully, set like stone. It's actually a pose you had come up with on the spot after Rafayel had asked you to be his model on one random morning.

Given how rarely he liked to paint people you didn't want to waste the opportunity to be his muse. Even if it was just once.

The windows are open, and the sun glares through the unblocked glass. Bathing your form in a sheet of warm light. You can feel a bead of swear move down from of your neck to your back to even lower. Its coolness against your heated skin makes you shiver.

Moments pass by, and with no response you feel your skin heat up even more. Whether that's due to your rising impatience or the sun, you don't know.

"Rafayel?" You call out, your voice has a slight tremble. For a moment, there's no answer. The only sound in the room is your small breathes and the soft scrapes of your lovers paintbrush against the canvas.

And then he sighs, a tired, grating sigh. It's the kind you hear all the time when he has to deal with long phone calls from Thomas, the kind that releases the annoyance slowly building inside of him.

You want to flinch at the sound, you don't though, thankfully.

Instead, a weight pull at your chest and a cold wave of guilt washing over you. The feeling akin to rock sinking to the bottom of a lake.

Setting down his paintbrush, Rafayel looks to you, his dear love and bodyguard. And he frowns..

"I did warn you earlier.", he says finally,"I said you'd likely experience some aches if agreed and you still did." He brings a hand to his face, the one previously holding the paintbrush, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Now you've broken my concentration and not only that, you've been fidgeting this entire time." His tone is harsh, impaitent. No different than the Rafayel you're used to. So you don't understand why tears suddenly prick at the corners of your eyes.

"I'm sorry.", you barely manage to push the words out of your throat. Your knees shake and your muscles twitch in discomfort. You show the weakness in your heart, and you hate yourself for it.

"I swear-"

Rafayel stops mid-sentence, finally looking up at you. Something snaps the gears within his mind into place and he realizes something.

You are weak.

You are fragile.

And it's only because of him.

In a single moment, Rafayel practically leaps from his stool. Dropping his painters pallette, and tripping over his easel. He pays no mind to the damage he causes to the painting he spent the past three hours on. His focus solely remains on you.

You didn't let go of your pose, you couldn't, not until you felt Rafayels desperate hands reach for you. His frantic mind searching to feel you against him. To know that you were with him.

The moment his cold fingers touched your heated skin you feel every ounce of strength, every wall you had built, all come tumbling down. Like he had pulled out the singular brick that held together the impenetrable fortress that was you.

Sinking to the floor, the tears you'd silently been holding back fell onto your cheeks. And the once silent whimpers turned into full sobs and tremors.

Rafayel fell with you, not daring to look away, not once leaving your side. His eyes widen and his stomach twist sickeningly.

Oh how he hated your tears, and the spew of emotions you'd put into his chest. It weighed down heavy upon his heart, seeing you ache.

Slowly he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into his chest. Your head nestled just above his heart. With every tear that wetted his expensive cotton shirt, and every hiccup that clawed through your throat he could feel his own throat begin to close up.

In an attempt to soothe both you and himself; Rafayel began to rock back and forth, humming a tune his mother would sing to him when he was a young guppy.

Gradually, he could feel each and every muscle in his body relax, including his heart. In turn making yours do the same. At the same time he could hear your sobs turn into cries, to whimpers, and into mere sniffles.

Lifting your head up to look at him in the eye, your dear painter, you can't help but sniffle. Which elicits a small chuckle from him. Before his expression becomes more somber, his eyes harden into something much more serious.

"Are you okay my love?", his voice is soft. Likes he's scared you'd break at anything louder than a whisper. "It's okay if you're upset at me, I shouldn'-"

You plant a hand his chest, the motion freezing him in place. "Rafayel.", your voice is raspy from crying, "You know I love you very much, correct?"

"Yes? But what does-"

"Shhh.", you put a finger to his lips,"Let me finish."

He quickly nods, and you start to speak once more.

"Rafayel, my love, you are my light. You're the most creative yet curious peron I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. You're able to capture and hold others attention without even trying. You make my day better without even trying, you just smile and all else disapears. . .", There's a pause, "So the idea of disappointing you, or becoming an inconvenience to you is...", you trail off softly. Allowing the thoughts in your head swim with millions of possibilities and "What-If's"

Rafayel snaps you back into reality, with his palms cupping each side of your face.

"Don't. Don't ever think that." His tone is firm, demanding. In way that you'd never heard before, you almost don't understand it.

"I will love you always. No matter what. You're worth more than any art I could dream to create.", he becomes more breatheless which each word, "Do you even realize why I wanted to make a portrait of you?" His eyes search yours, looking for a response, an answer.

He looks into your eyes he can't find it, instead he sees pool's of confusion, twinges of fear flicker inside them.

Sighing softly to himself, he brings your head to his chest once again. Your face smashes against the cotton shirt as your ears pick up the sound of his lungs and heart. They move steadily, not in tandem with one another but each their own unique rhythm.

"Everytime you leave for a mission", his is so soft you almost don't hear it,"I-..I worry you won't come back. I'm scared you'll leave me." There's a solemn look in his eyes.

The confession makes the air within your lungs disapate. "Raf..", you can only stare up at him.

Rare do you find that your painter is able to be honest about his emotions with you, much less himself.

Reaching up, you cup his cheeks with your hands and you stare into his eyes. "I'm sorry my love.", his gaze softens, " I think we both mean more to each other than we let on."

He shifts his eyes, thinking to himself for moment, before nodding, "Yeah.."

"And I promise you this.", you take one hand off his face, and hold up your pinky to him, "No matter how hard the mission is, I will always come home to you. If I don't, you have every right to hate me."

A spark lights in Rafayels eyes, and he can't help but laugh at the situation you two were in. Before quickly regaining his composure, "I don't think I could ever hate you.", He says as he wipes his face, "But..I would like that."

A sweet smile graces his faces, lifting a hand he holds out his own pinky and intertwines with yours.

"And I promise you, no matter what, my love and my heart will always belong to you.. Mrs. Bodygaurd."

A giggle erupts from your throat, "You still call me that?"

"What? You don't like it?" Rafayel sounds hurt but you know by the look on his face it isn't real. You laugh a bit more before pressing your forehead to his.

"No, it's perfect."

[yumekoii]

౨ৎ "your lips, my lips, apocalypse" ౨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 ft. sunday + fem!reader ⋆｡˚꩜ wc. 490 ♬⋆.˚ currently playing. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex

a/n. i love sunday so much ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა also this might be ooc for sunday, but who cares ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ and i do hc that gopher wood used to tell little sunday that boys shouldn't cry bc that shows weakness.

guilt, sadness, pain — were all sunday could feel right now. he couldn't help but stare off into space. his own mind betraying him. all he could think about was robin. his precious little sister that he loves so much. being eternally separated from her has been really hard for him. she was the only real family he had left...well he does have you, of course.

sunday was sitting on your shared bed, his head in his hands. he couldn't help but cry. you watch from the doorframe, your heart breaking watching the man you love cry. it makes you want to cry, but you know that if he sees you cry, he's going to blame himself for making you cry. so you wipe the tears that were about to fall and slowly walk towards sunday.

he doesn't look up at you as you stood before him. you can hear his soft cries. you frown. sunday didn't cry that much, gopher wood would always teach him that boys wouldn't supposed to cry. he would tell sunday that crying is a girls' trait. that's why sunday didn't cry as much, but now after the penacony incident, it seems like crying was all sunday could do.

you slowly take sunday's hands into yours. he finally looks up at you. his eyes were puffy and red. he wants to look away, ashamed is all he can feel. "you shouldn't be ashamed for crying, my love," you said as you slowly wipe the tears falling down his face. "whatever that man told you about crying was a lie."

sunday lets out a little gasp when he feels your soft lips on his face. his heart felt like it was on fire. he couldn't help but let a few more tears run down his face. but you quickly kissed them away. the feeling of your soft lips made him close his eyes. it felt nice and for the first time in a while, sunday felt relaxed.

you lips traveled from his cheeks to his forehead to his nose and finally to his lips. slowly, you pull away and that causes sunday to yearn for more of your kisses. you run your hands through his hair and give him one last kiss on his lips before cradling his head to your chest.

"i love you so much, sunday, please never forget that." you could feel your own tears forming in your eyes. sunday wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face deeper into your chest. "i...i love you too, my angel." he softly says as his tears dried up.

the two of you stay like this for several more minutes. to sunday, this felt so nice. he can hear your heartbeat, proof that you were with him right now. proof that he wasn't dreaming.

"you're free now, my love. free from him." you say to him before you can hear sunday's soft snores. finally free...

[yeompei]

mine, all mine

— ever think about what caleb would be like if you showed up to his apartment crying?

1k words, caleb x mc, angst/comfort

————————————————————————

your hands shake as you knock against the door to caleb’s apartment, eyes downcast and filled with exhaustion. This week had been hard, a bunch of wanderers had been spotted near the outskirts of linkon, meaning long and tough battles that made your body ache. along with having to do all the paperwork associated with it, you were basically stuck to your desk afterwards, only going home to sleep for a maximum of 2 hours before repeating it all over again.

the last straw was when you got injured, you’d stopped to reload your gun but a wanderer happened to be near and swiped your left arm before swiftly being shot, leading to jenna nagging you about proper reloading protocols that you would’ve appreciated if you weren’t so burnt out.

jenna’s words, which were usually filled with pride and praise, seemed to drip with frustration, lecturing you about it in front of your whole team, making your face burn and your eyes swell up with tears. though the advice came from a place of worry, you couldn’t help but feel stupid and worthless for letting your team down.

you didn’t know how you got to skyhaven, all you knew was once you got home to your empty house, you missed caleb a little more than usual. then, you were suddenly on a train in the middle of the night, even though you had work a few hours later.

caleb opened the door, a look of surprise flashed across his face before taking one look at your red eyes and ushering you inside. as you took off your shoes and coat, he asked “do you want some dinner?”, eyes filled with worry as his hand brushed across your cheek. you nodded quietly, a lump forming in your throat as you leaned into caleb’s hand.

you made your way over to the couch, sinking into the cushions as caleb quickly walked to the kitchen, grabbing you a plate of beef curry he had already cooked beforehand and handed it to you. he sat beside you, turning on the tv and the two of you sat in silence, which comforted you more than he would ever know. caleb had always understood what you needed, even if you never knew yourself and this moment just made you even more grateful for him.

after you placed your dish in the sink and returned to him, his arms were outstretched and ready to give you a hug. you gladly climbed onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat for a few seconds, sitting in the silence until he finally spoke. “[name], what happened? it’s unlike you to just show up out of no where, though i always enjoy your company” he smiled softly, brushing a hand through your hair as you lay on his chest.

“it’s just,” you let out a wobbly sigh, trying not to break into tears. you wanted to be strong for him, as he was for you. “this week has been hard, i just needed some comfort” your fingers traced absentmindedly on caleb’s old shirt, “i was on a mission and got injured, which led to jenna lecturing me in front of the team because i didn’t follow proper reload protocol” you snuggled closer into his chest, trying to avoid the gaze you could feel him giving you.

“you’re injured?” caleb’s voice hardened, pushing you backwards to look at your body. “where?” he lifted your arms and touched his palm to your forehead, analyzing everything thoroughly “no fever,” he murmured “do you need first aid? medicine?” he asked as you shook your head “i just scratched my arm, it wasn’t even bleeding that much” you moved off of him and placed your back against the couch, leaning your head on his shoulder, lifting your injured arm to show him it was fine. “see?”

“you were bleeding?” caleb’s hands grabbed your arm gently and lifted your sleeves up, staring at the bandage “should i go give those wanderers a lesson?” he said it in the joking tone, but you could tell he was being serious. you almost let out a laugh before ruffling his hair like he does for you. “those wanderers are all dead by now” caleb laughed “of course they are, pip, you’re the strongest person i know”

at those words you faltered, a small twinge of reminder flashed through you as you briefly recalled jenna’s words. “i..” you brought up your hand to your eyes, trying to hide the tears. caleb thought you were strong, and he believed in you. that alone could almost make you sob for hours. “i just feel so useless, i bet i looked so stupid in front of everyone earlier” you let out a small sob as caleb pulled you in closer and rubbed your shoulder.

“no, hey,” he grabbed your hands and lowered them from your face, looking into your tearstained eyes “it’s not your fault, everyone gets hurt and makes mistakes on the job, trust me” he brushed a strand of hair out of your face “you’re the best hunter i know, and this one mistake won’t make anyone see you any different. if your teammates take this and see you differently, than that means they’re shitty teammates and don’t deserve to be on the same team as you in the first place” he looked you in the eyes, his sincere gaze caused you to almost start crying once more, but you held it in.

“i’m sorry,” you said, wiping your tears “for crying, but thank you for everything” your voice broke “i really needed some time with you after all that” caleb grinned “of course, pip-squeak, i’ll always be there for you. this one thing doesn’t define who you are.” he pulled you in closer, your eyes feeling heavy as he whispering reassurance after reassurance into your ear. “just sleep for now, i’ll sort things out” you nodded, eyes already closed as you fell asleep in his arms, feeling the safest you’ve ever felt.

caleb had already planned what he would do for you tomorrow. but first, he had to call in some favours in order to get you and him some time off, as well as make sure he had all the ingredients to make you some homemade breakfast in the morning. he looked at your sleeping face, eyes filled with nothing but love as he held you a little tighter, as you slept peacefully for the first time in days.

[klausysworld]

u write angst so well ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 I'm thinking about one with klaus, but like, something that hurts but it's comforting at the same time

Like him and reader are in a relationship and he travels for some days, reader has depression and during this time she practically can't do anything, cleaning, basic hygiene, cooking, the basic stuff most people do without difficulty. And when he comes back he sees her in this situation and comfort her, giving her a shower, babying her, this fluff stuff

Klaus is one of my comfort characters and, by the way, the speeches he has about life and enjoying like actually helps me a lot with my depression. And u are gold 🥇

Never Alone

Y/n was a sweet girl. She always was.

Growing up she was often full of emotions, crying almost always whether it was because she was too happy or too sad or too angry. However every time her eyes would water, each time her bottom lip would quiver, one of her parents or aunts or cousins would sigh and tell her how annoying she was, how pathetic it was. Her emotions and feelings became ignored, assumed to be overdramatic.

So when she really had something worth crying over, nobody cared to listen. Not a soul would give her even a second. It didn't matter how many times she tried to seriously talk to them, explain she wasn't an oversensitive little girl anymore, she knew what she was feeling and what had happened to her. They didn't care to hear it.

Instead she learned to push any thoughts down or at least aside. If nobody wanted to listen then she wouldn't bother making noise for them to hear.

For a long time, she barely spoke a word.

Most of the time she didn't even really feel anything anymore. She tried to sometimes but she just didn't, couldn't. Life began to feel utterly pointless.

That was when she would spend days in bed, not moving to do a thing. Often she would hope that if she stayed there long enough, maybe she would disappear or if she slept for long enough, maybe she wouldn't have to wake back up. Unfortunately for her, neither of those things happened.

It was fate really that on one of the only days she got dressed and went out that she met Klaus Mikaelson.

Somehow she managed to be in the grill at the wrong time and managed to both witness and experience a supernatural attack. Klaus had thrown Damon across the room which caused him to slam into the wall beside Y/n. Her eyes were wide and she went to walk back out the door but Klaus sped over and grabbed her wrist she she could exit.

"I don't think so sweetheart" he chuckled, pulling her further into the room and she simply couldn't be bothered to struggle. He sat her down in a booth and gave her a fake smile, looking into her eyes and compelling her "Stay still and stay quiet" he ordered before going back and finishing off the rest of the scooby-doo gang.

His eyes flicked back over to the girl he had compelled. Her head lay against the back of her seat and her fingers picked at her lips until the rich scent of her blood reached his nose.

Klaus sped infront of her and he leaned down to pull her hands away, her eyes glanced up at him with anxiety swirling inside of them. His thumb swiped the blood away from her lips and he sucked it off of his skin with a hum. A slither of amusement shone through him as she shifted uncomfortably.

"You can talk now sweetheart, and move as she should please" he told her, interested in her reaction but she barely gave one.

"Can I just go home now please?" She asked, her voice weak and tired. His eyes narrowed briefly before he shrugged and pulled her up.

"Course you can love, come on lets get you back. Point the way" he murmured as he took her outside and placed her infront of him so that she may lead him.

They walked in silence back to her house. She hesitated to go in when the sound of her parents yelling could be heard from where they stood. Klaus observed as she wondered back into the home, her parents oblivious as she slipped past them and up the stairs.

Klaus forgot about her easily, out of sight out of mind.

But then she came into view again, she was sat on the edge of Wickery Bridge with her legs hanging off while she leaned forward daringly.

His brows furrowed and he made his way over. He took a seat beside her, letting his own legs dangle off as well. Again she gave no reaction to his presence, not even when his hand reached out to gently hold her hand. Klaus may not know her or necessarily care for her but he didn't want her life to be seen as a tragedy. He didn't want her to throw what she had away when she could still have so much more.

They sat in silence for some time, sometimes she would swing her legs and lean further forward to see the water below. Each time she shifted closer to falling his grip on her tightened and his gaze hardened.

Later in the night her phone pinged, Klaus glanced to see her mothers name on the screen with a message beneath telling Y/n that neither of her parents would be home for the weekend so she would need to look after herself. His eyes softened as he watched her read the message. Both brows rose on his face when without a care, she tossed the device into the river.

Klaus couldn't help the little laugh that left him as the water splashed and the light from the phone quickly sunk away from sight. His smile died away again as her gaze didn't lift from the deep flowing water and he hesitantly slid his arm around her to secure his hold.

"I'm not gonna jump" she mumbled but he still frowned

"I don't believe you" he whispered honestly and she hummed.

"You don't know me" she muttered and he tilted his head

"Perhaps not yet" he countered but she didn't offer a response. Klaus sighed softly and carefully dropped down from the edge and back onto the rode, his arm stayed around Y/n's waist so that he could pull her back to safety. She huffed in annoyance as he pulled her along with him.

"I don't know who you are or what you are or what you want.." she dragged and he hummed.

"My name is Niklaus, well thats what my father named me however I choose to go by Klaus, I have for centuries. I'm a vampire-werewolf hybrid and what I want is for my family to be calm and collected for one in the thousand years that I have had the privilege to know them" He grinned at her and she stared blankly at him.

"Okay" she mumbled, accepting her fate.

And from that day on, each time he saw her, he would talk at her and pull her along walks with him. He began bringing her back to his house and going through his plans with her, sometimes she would give advice or little comments to put him on a better track and he found her rather helpful when she wanted to be.

Klaus began to notice more and more about her as time went by. Like how she didn't eat much or change her clothes often. He seemed to have to wait forever outside of her house as though no matter what time he came to see her, she had always just woken up.

So he did what he thought would be good.

Klaus set her up a bedroom in his home with a wardrobe of Klaus and a conjoining bathroom which consisted of both a shower and a bathtub.

He caught on quickly that if he wasn't in the house with her then she didn't bother waking up let alone getting up and doing anything. So he started opening her curtains in the morning, gently waking her up and placing some sort of little breakfast item on her lap and a drink on the nightstand while he ran a bath. He'd sprinkle the bath-salts and pour the bath-soak before folding up a towel and hanging it over the radiator.

Then he would wonder back into her room and lift her up. He had discovered that mornings were especially difficult for her to do anything. She wouldn't talk and she wouldn't move. He was lucky that she felt guilty enough to eat the breakfast he fed her, though sometimes she couldn't physically do it and he would encourage her to drink a smoothie so that she had something healthy in her. But every day, without fail, he would carry her to the bathroom and place her onto the heated tiled floor.

"Can you do it yourself sweetheart?" he would ask each morning, his gaze soft and gentle. Sometimes she would be able to and would get undressed and bathe all by herself. Other times she could get undressed and in the bath but would ask him to come back and help her scrub her skin clean. And of course there were days where she just wouldn't respond at all and he would give soft kisses to her head while carefully, respectfully undressing her and helping her into the tub before cleaning her off and lifting her back out to dry her.

There had been one or two occasions when he had been in a rush or a stressed out mood and would end up being a little rude to her. Her eyes would just grow tireder and little tears would gather to them. Guilt would consume Klaus whole and he would push aside whatever was bothering him and apologise to Y/n while helping her get ready before giving her a soft kiss and promising he would be back to check on her.

For a while the most he would do was just a gentle peck on her lips in an act of comfort however as he continued to look after her, he fell in love with her. He would see how long one of his little kisses would last before she would pull away and he would test how far his hands were allowed to wonder before she would let out a whine and curl away.

Time went by quickly, their routine continued. Klaus would ensure she was up and okay, he would go out to fix his problems, return at some point in the day to give Y/n something to eat, sometimes she would have gone for a walk in the garden or be sat with one of his hybrid who were under strict orders to never lay a hand on her, then he would go back out and return a last time. Then she would sit in his art room with a book or a word search or something to occupy her mind while he painted and spoke to her about all the things he had seen that day and which of them he thinks she would have enjoyed. Often they cooked dinner together and then he would take her back to bed and watch a film before departing to his own room.

A few times he would fall asleep beside her with her head on his chest or in his lap as he leaned against the headboard. Neither ever complained or mentioned the arrangement so Klaus began sleeping there more often and would wake his love with a sprinkle of kisses across her cheeks until her pretty eyes would flutter open for him to see.

Things were going quite well until Klaus had to go away for a couple days to speak with some werewolf packs. He had been skeptic and concerned to leave sweet Y/n all alone but he also knew he had his hybrids and asked them to take care of her. He hadn't known that they were unsired at that point and completely forgot the girl even existed.

Y/n hadn't moved from the spot in her bed since Klaus had left two days before. It only took one glance for Klaus to realise this when he returned. His expression changed in an instant and he was pulling the covers off of her, promising her he wouldn't leave her again.

"It's all okay sweetheart, lets get you to the bathroom okay?" He whispered as he carried her in and sat her down on the toilet while running a bath for her to lay in. "I'm gonna get you some water okay?" he murmured before speeding down to the kitchen and grabbing some water and tossing some pasta into a pan with water and turning the stove on before flashing back upstairs.

He placed the glass down on the side and lifted her back up, pulled her clothed off and lowered her into the bath. His fingers gently wiped the tears away that had slipped down her face before pouring some of the warm water over her hair.

"My sweet girl" he cooed softly, his hands lathering her hair in shampoo. "You're going to be just fine" he murmured, rinsing her hair out and combing conditioner through the ends. He reached for the loofa and began washing her body gently, pouring soap over her shoulders and scrubbing it across her soft skin. "Okay sweetheart, stay right there" he mumbled, zipping back to the kitchen and pouring the pasta into the colander and then back into the pan with a jar of tomato sauce before grating some cheese over the top and grabbing a fork. He brought it up and put it on her bedside table before going back to her bathroom and washing the conditioner out before lifting her out the tub and engulfing her in a warm towel and carrying her to her room. He sat her down on the chair by her vanity and stripped her bedding off and tossed i to the laundry basket. Using his vampiric speed her put clean bedding on and then placed her on top the duvet with a kiss to her head. The towel was taken from her and one of his clean shirts was pulled over her head and he carefully pulled her arms through.

"Alright angel, there you are. Nice and clean my lovely, now we're gonna eat some pasta, okay?" he mumbled, placing her cushioned lap tray onto her lap and then the bowl of pasta and her glass of water. "There we go sweetheart" he smiled softly while stabbing some of the pasta onto the fork and hand feeding her.

Once she ate half of it and drank all of her water he took it away and pulled her onto his lap. His arms circled her and she hid her face in his neck before hesitantly whispering, "Klaus?"

"Yes love?" He hummed, stroking her hair

"I need pants" she uttered and he glanced down, remembering he had only half dressed her.

"Of course sweetheart, forgive me" he replied, quickly grabbing some panties and sliding them up her legs to cover her up. "Perfect" he smiled.

"Thank you" she muttered, looking up at him "I'm sorry" she told him but he shook his head.

"No angel, I'm sorry. I should never have left you all alone." he argued, a frown on his face as he kissed her cheeks and stroked her arms. "You feel like going outside today?" he asked kindly and she shrugged.

He nodded silently and carried her out into the garden, sitting her down on the soft grass so that she was surrounded by the flowers. He wondered over to the strawberries growing a little way over and picked a couple before bringing them over to her with a smile. She returned it with warmth and giggled when he held them to her lips for her to take a bite.

He sat down beside her and pulled her into his side. She lay her head on his shoulder and held onto his hand. Klaus rest the side of his face against the top of her head and watched at the trees swayed in the distance.

"I love you Y/n" he whispered, his voice delicate and airy as the words met her ear. Her hand squeezed his and he smiled.

"I love you too" she told him quietly and he kissed her head, she then lifted it to face him and pressed her lips to his. Klaus felt his expression soften as he kissed her back and interlaced their fingers. Their lips parted and he rest his forehead against hers,

"I'll never leave you alone" he told her.

"You promise?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

"I promise."

[pastadorable]

TW: Panic Attack

Please don’t let this flop it took what felt like 6 years to draw all them tattoos ☠️

Tattoos: Damon

Jewelry: Blu

[ultrafangirlishness]

You look different

This made me realize how inexperienced I am when it comes to drawing characters over like 35... :') Same goes to characters with facial hair. I guess drawing Ody will be good for me then

Pose reference is from the incredible @/mellon-soup, who has single-handedly been keeping my art block at bay for the past two months lol