#and it get back physically and mentally draining knowing that i have so much other stuff to do and i have to do the same thing tomorrow

[the-casbah-way]

i think every university student who has a job and studies at the same time deserves everything they want forever actually

[cetoddle]

the more i try to force myself to be positive and try and find things i like abt this job the more i miss my old job

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

Yandere! Batfam x Reader

Batfam x reader or Batfam/reader

Yandere Batfam x reader or Yandere Batfam/reader

Word count: 8639 words

TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne, mentions drugs, yandere, neglect, angst and kidnapping.

You were Bruce’s youngest child, a year younger than Damian and several years younger than the rest. You were simply the result of a hookup on one of Bruce’s many business trips, it might’ve been to Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or even just somewhere else in America. The point is, you didn’t grow up in Gotham until the age of thirteen when your mother died in a violent car crash, one in which you had also been involved. 

You had sat for hours in the backseat, slowly seeing your mother’s life drain from her eyes as the fire brigade did their best to cut their way into the car. It had all been for nought though, with her dying before the paramedics even arrived. You were physically fine except for some deep cuts and bruises, but your mother’s abdomen had been pierced as a drunk driver of a flatbed lorry carrying steel poles had backed violently into your car, sending the metal sticks flying straight towards your vehicle. One of the poles had gone through the window and hit your mother. It was a gruesome sight, so vile that you threw up several times as you were hauled out of the wreck.

Legally, you were supposed to go to your father, even if your mother’s parents, possible siblings or someone else were willing to take you, the law demanded that it’d be your father who took you. Bruce had signed your birth certificate, he wasn’t unaware of your existence, and he had since your birth sent monthly child support to your mother, but that was all you really were to him up until that point; A negligible extra expense. 

It wasn’t that Bruce disliked you when you came to the manor. You were simply a scared kid who had just lost their mother and was deeply grieving. He had dealt with plenty of those. He had just been busy… He obviously had his obligations as Bruce Wayne: CEO duties, public image and bundles of paperwork, but it was more so his obligations as Batman and to his other children, which pulled him away from you when you first came into his home. Damian, especially, took up most of his time. Not only did the two of them constantly train for protecting the city, thus developing a closer bond than you’d ever have with either of them, but Bruce was also very aware of how Damian’s childhood at the league weighed down on him mentally, so, he kept him close, let him vent his frustrations and slowly but surely get over his trauma. 

 From the very beginning, you became the forgotten child:

Dick was always so focused on Damian, singing his praises and always taking care of him. He usually forgot to even greet you whenever he visited the manor for a week or two, often going “Oh! I haven’t seen you all this time! Well, bye to you too Y/n”, whenever he left. Whenever the oldest brother was visiting, you’d stand in the doorway to the living room, observing with stinging eyes as he embraced Damian like the boy mattered more than the entire world. You had forgotten how it felt to actually matter that much to someone. You wondered if you ever had. Why you tortured yourself with watching the two, you didn’t know, perhaps because you longed to be in Damian’s position? You weren’t even sure yourself. The reason probably didn’t matter, as your forced your eyes to stay on the two, only leaving when you could feel silent tears run down your cheeks. 

Jason was the friendliest, not particularly caring for Damian and Bruce either, often calling the green-eyed boy “Demonspawn”, which you’d laugh loudly at, only to be sent to your room by Bruce for upsetting Damian. Jason understood though, usually going to your room to hang out with you and listen to your stories, unlike everyone else. He came to adore you. Damian might’ve been Dick’s favourite sibling, but you were Jason’s. Since Damian was called “Babybird”, Jason called you “Tiny tweet”, even though you didn’t hold the title of Robin. You loved the times when Jason was there, he made you finally feel understood and heard. Unfortunately, Jason was at the manor even less than Dick, (who spent 90% of his time in Blüdhaven), since he couldn’t stand the sight of Bruce for longer than an hour every other month. So, the brief moments of reprieve the second oldest offered were few and far between, still leaving you isolated most of the time.

Tim barely spared you a glance, too busy with his own school, vigilantism and friends. He appreciated that you weren’t annoying like Damian, who’d constantly attack him, thus automatically bringing you above the little devil on Tim’s tier list of family members… however, Damian was at the very bottom, which didn’t make it a great achievement. If you ever tried to converse with Tim, he’d dismiss you with a wave of his long bony hand, telling you to find someone else to chit-chat with. You stopped your attempts at befriending the middle child after a handful of unsuccessful tries, barely seeing him after that. As a matter of fact, whenever you tried to visualise a picture of Tim, it was the image of his slim dismissive hand which appeared. You had forgotten if his hair was black or dark brown, if his eyes were light blue or grey or if his nose had a bump or not. He bordered on becoming a personal myth to you; You knew he existed in a far-off world, but he wasn’t within your orbit.

Damian was at first fearful that you’d take his place, bullying you, physically harassing you and bringing up your mother until you were left wailing on the floor. When you told Bruce though he’d always tell you to, “Be the bigger person, Damian has been through a lot”. You wished you could have fought against your youngest brother, but not only was he older and stronger than you, but he was also a trained assassin and vigilante. You stood no chance. When Damian realised that you were no threat to his position, he left you alone, avoiding talking to you and interacting with you on the basis that you simply didn’t matter to him. He had actually once accidentally told a teacher that he only had three siblings, not realising that he had forgotten about you until he was on his way home, replaying the conversation in his head. Damian might’ve once tried to become closer to you after Alfred had given him a long spiel about how “family is important”, but quickly realised that you trusted him less than the thieves in Crime Alley, and so he abandoned the idea.

Bruce didn’t mean to ignore you, it was purely accidental, but he had on multiple occasions forgotten your birthday and even once failed to remember buying you any Christmas presents, leaving you as the only Wayne child with no gifts that year, to which you had simply muttered something along the lines of, “Of course”, not in a vengeful or angry way, instead in a resigned and understanding tone, before going back to your room that night and not leaving until a day or two later. Alfred had scolded him for that occurrence, there wasn’t really anything he could’ve said in his defence and even Dick had looked at him with disgust as they all took in the image of you standing there, alone, surrounded by gifts that weren’t for you. It had been a striking visual, yet not enough to make Bruce change his ways. It wasn’t that he held any animosity towards you, you were simply just air to him, he had no idea where you were at any given time or who you were, sometimes he even forgot your face.

Alfred was a kind man, an understanding man. However, just like Bruce, he also had others to worry about, and the more isolated you became in your behaviour, the less able he was to spend time with you. Not only that, but he also refused to hear you talk badly of any of your brothers, and even Bruce was off the table if you felt like complaining. Alfred was a sweet and patient man, but to you it felt as if he had lost the plot, as if he didn’t understand how badly you were treated, because his love for the others blinded him, making him an unfortunate enabler of your torment. Alfred was only really good for giving you a biscuit/cookie when you sat in the kitchen, apathetically staring into a wall, for venting your frustrations, however? He was useless.

Your father neglected to handle your trauma. However, somehow, in his messed up brain, he reasoned that any trauma which was vigilante-related could somehow be considered worse as it was on a much larger scale than a single individual losing their mother. This made you grow resentful of both Damian and your father, the careful way Bruce would adapt everything to fit Damian’s wants and needs, disregarding yours, slowly lit a fire within you, a fire which burned with hatred towards them both.

I could see you wanting to join the vigilante life when you’re perhaps fifteen. You had watched the others train for years and would often sneak into the bat cave after dark to train yourself. You were good, really good, so you decided that you might as well start doing actual vigilante work. You did realise that you hadn’t quite reached a fighting level where that’d be a good idea, so you decided to find a more seasoned mentor. A slight detail, which would become important. Your father didn’t have the time to teach you. So who did you call up? That’s right! Jason.

 Jason was reluctant to take you under his wing, at first. He even came to the manor to convince you that vigilantism wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. However, after pouring your bleeding heart out to the only brother who cared, he accepted, still apprehensive though.

Jason started his training from the top, getting into the basics swiftly. You got it down faster than he had at first thought, being an astoundingly quick-learner, something which the red-masked vigilante attributed to having Wayne blood in your veins. After locking down all the groundwork within a year or so, it was time to start your specialisation; Choice of weapons, fighting style and general tactics were all next. While training with Jason, you slowly moved into the spare room in his apartment. It wasn’t like you had a bunch of things to move, but what little you had, Jason helped transport from the manor to his primary safehouse.

When Jason considered you ready, you started working as his shadow sidekick. Never known by the vigilante community at large, but definitely a secret menace to Gotham’s criminals. Jason did a good job of keeping your vigilantism a secret After your first three years of training, you completely stopped visiting the manor, even on holidays. You were technically a legal adult now and felt no obligation to stick around a house whose inhabitants had made it clear that you were unwelcome.

No one except Alfred knew that you had completely left for the first long while, with him being the only one you had bid farewell to. The old butler refused to tell Bruce until the man noticed himself. That day would come approximately four months after you stopped coming to the manor, on Christmas eve:

Damian had been the one to notice your absence secondly, after Alfred. He commented on it during the Christmas family dinner, one which Bruce only held for his sons' sakes, and where the only two not attending were Jason and you. Even Dick was there, on a visit from Blüdhaven, spry and jolly around his favourite younger sibling. Damian. 

“Where’s L/N?” The green-eyed man had questioned loudly. Silence followed. Bruce took a look around, you weren’t there. They all knew that Jason wouldn’t be attending, he had declined Bruce’s requests every year since his resurrection, instead opting to go to Roy’s place. A lump formed in Bruce’s throat, yet he didn’t know why. “Damian, can you go get them down? They probably didn’t hear that dinner was served”, Dick requested kindly with a smile on his lips. The man in question would’ve usually complained, but since it was his eldest brother who asked, he got up wordlessly. Conversation at the table resumed, with Alfred biting his lips in contemplation. ‘Should he have informed Bruce of your absence, even though he knew you were at Jason’s?’ ‘Perhaps’, he concluded, deciding to keep silent about the whole matter, it was unfair to you. You had moved on, and even if he missed you terribly, it was not his place to demand your return. A piercing “What!” Stopped all the chatter at the table. Damian came barrelling back into the dining room, grabbing the side of the door with a tight knuckle to stabilise himself. “Their room is completely empty! All their stuff is gone! The only things left are the bed and closet!” 

Bruce had stood up immediately, his chair colliding with the ground behind him as he brushed by Damian, entering your room, his son had been right. Your room was empty. None of the posters you had brought with you from your life with your mother, no papers lying scattered around and no other signs of use. As Bruce looked closer at the remaining furniture, he found that a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The room was as empty as when you arrived as a child and something in Bruce’s stomach dropped. “Y/n!” He called out. No reply. Soon, the entire manor was looking for you, even Alfred pretended to do so as well, his guilt of knowing eating him up from the inside. None of them found you, you had vanished without a trace.

 Somehow, your perceived disappearance became the thing to snap your family’s collective consciousness. All hyped up by each other’s worry and driven into a frenzy. Bruce believed that you had gotten kidnapped or ran away, and it scared him. The thought of his negligence having brought you to extremes was like a spear through his heart, switching something on in his brain. He ordered his available sons to scour the entire city of Gotham to find you, completely forgetting about Christmas and leaving only Alfred behind to stay at the manor, in case you returned on your own. Bruce also ensured that most rooms in the manor were lit, like a lighthouse showing you home. Meanwhile, you and Jason were celebrating the holidays at Roy’s place in Star City, oblivious to what was taking place in all the major cities. You were playing with Lian as the two men chatted about old times and the poor quality of the beer they were drinking; Roy had let you two stay for a few days, so Jason could properly enjoy the festivities without thinking of his alcohol percentage as he was the designated driver. None of you had any idea of the ruckus going on only a few cities away.

It was after this Christmas that the family changed irreversibly. Suddenly, your safety became their top priority. Spear-headed by Bruce, who had a borderline existential crisis as he believed there was an equal chance of you being dead in a ditch somewhere and you being tortured by some rogue. Bruce was overtaken by guilt and challenged this feeling into pure rage as he beat up henchmen and rogues within an inch of their lives, believing them to have somehow connected you to Batman. They hadn’t and were entirely unaware of why the bat was so obsessed with this one person. Were you perhaps vital in an ongoing detective case? Or did Bruce Wayne tip him off to be extra vigilant when finding his youngest? They had no clue.

Well, obviously, Christmas was ruined. When all of the batboys and their father returned home empty-handed, they were in no mood for celebrations. Tim simply sat in a chair, lamenting, as he stared into a wall with something akin to resignation, running calculations in his head of where you could have possibly gone, before heading for the cave to view the security footage as far back as he had stored. Bruce and Damian refused to simply stop looking for the night, not staying long at the manor before they started searching other cities, making some of their vigilante friends aware of the situation. After staying in the nearest bathroom, and regaining control of his emotions, Dick joined his youngest brother and father in their quest for searching other cities. Bruce went to Metropolis, Damian to Central City and Dick to Blüdhaven. They had planned that they would each scour a city tonight and one the night after, it would be impossible to find you during the day, as there were way too many people wandering the streets. Alfred still remained silent, he didn’t think it was fair of them to bring you back, not with the way they had treated you and not when you had clearly left of your own volition.

Bruce had informed his closest friend, Clark Kent, of your disappearance, with the alien immediately insisting on aiding in the search. “It’ll be quicker if we both look at the same time!” Clark had yelled determined through the phone, his southern drawl helping to calm Bruce’s nerves, if only slightly. That was how not only Batman but also Superman started patrolling the streets of Metropolis, in search of a single person, you. Jon too wanted to aid in the search and offered Damian to take over looking in Central city, so he could look somewhere else instead, thus covering more ground, Damian agreed and went to Coast city. 

As the news spread to the citizens of these cities that the Supers and the Bats had teamed up to look for one of Bruce Wayne’s missing kids, it became the talk of everyone’s dinner tables. News channels ran multiple stories about it, despite it being Christmas, being hyped up in no small part thanks to Lois Lane, whose heart went out to the Waynes for losing someone so close to them. The story had slowly morphed from you having run away voluntarily, to you having been kidnapped as a ransom. Everyone who heard of your story believed it to be a tragedy committed by someone who couldn’t even hold up the sanctity of the holiday spirits.

Back at home, Tim reviewed all of the security footage and went as far back as four months, that was when he saw you exit the manor with multiple boxes in your arms, loading them into a red lorry. He kept looking at you walking back and forth for a while until a well-known presence stepped out of the vehicle. Jason. Tim stood still, you hadn’t just moved out of the manor, you had moved in with Jason. You had moved in with the second oldest brother, and neither of you had bothered to inform anyone! Tim seethed, he wasn’t mad at you, no, he could never be. But Jason, the mere thought of him now made Tim’s blood boil. He believed that his brother had borderline kidnapped you away from them. His ire intensified when he saw Jason enter the manor and come out with more of your stuff packed into boxes. That was enough evidence for Tim to conclude that Jason must’ve forced you to move out, that it really hadn’t been your choice at all… Skillfully ignoring how none of the people in the manor had ever given you a reason to stay, let alone noticed that you had been gone for over four months. 

However, knowing that you were with Jason made him able to conclude that you were likely in one of his safehouses or spending your Christmas with his best friend Roy, those two were inseparable, after all. He decided that he would look through Jason’s safe houses, then he called up Damian, “Go to Roy Harper’s place and look for Y/n. They’re with Jason.” Tim’s voice was dark, foreboding and it even made Damian’s hairs stand straight. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Tim explained the situation to both Dick and Bruce afterwards, as he glided through the air from safe house to safe house. Letting the two know that he had sent Damian after you and that they could come home now. Even if Tim currently held the desire to puncture Jason’s lungs for taking you away from them… away from him, he knew his older brother would never let anything happen to you. You were weak in his mind, and in the rest of the family’s mind too. Perhaps they would’ve worried less if they knew of your vigilante training… or maybe not. Vigilantism is dangerous, after all.

When Roy had turned on the TV briefly, you had all been bombarded with news of your disappearance. Your apathetic face from your last high school photo was plastered on every news network, big and small. News of an all-out search party with multiple vigilantes involved was outlined in great detail. Both Jason and you looked at each other with a mix of concern and confusion. It had been four months since you had last been at the manor, Alfred knew of your departure, what were they doing?! Lian had thankfully been put to bed, none of you wanted her to view the panic that crossed all three of your faces. “What the heck are they up to?” Roy questioned no one in particular. “It’s probably a façade, someone might have noticed that ‘Bruce Wayne’ was down one child and now he needs to find me to assure them that I’m not dead. It wouldn’t be a good look to have multiple children die in your custody. No offence Jay”, you postulated, it was a far reach but still the best explanation you could come up with. Jason had agreed with your assessment, giving you a light smack to the back of your head for mentioning his death. He wasn’t mad, but he always joked that it was a sensitive subject.

The three of you tried to come up with solutions to the problem at hand when you were interrupted by an impatient knock on the door. “I’ll get it”, Roy muttered. Making his way out of the living room, where you had previously stood, and towards the entrance. The moment he turned the lock, the door was swung open by whoever was on the other side, the wooden frame just barely missing Roy’s face. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the living room. Roy barely had the time to realise who it was before they were gone, striding towards where you were. 

“Damian?!” You exclaimed, confused. The green-eyed man stood in front of both Jason and you, wearing his full Robin costume. You wondered how he had gotten here so quickly, the news mentioned how he’d been to both Central City and Coast City, both were relatively far away from your current location. “I’ve come to take you home, Y/n. We have been worried for your safety and I see that Todd took full advantage of your little outburst.” Damian’s voice was spiteful, Tim had managed to fuel his ever-latent anger and direct it towards Jason. You tried to rebuke your youngest brother, but Jason stepped in front of you, ready to defend you against the green-eyed menace, “As if! They’re not going back with you, just to end up being ignored by everyone again! Just because Bruce needs his public image to be clean, doesn’t make it their problem! So run along, Demonspawn!”  Damian did not take well to refusal, let alone Jason’s uncalled-for name-calling. 

Damian marched past the taller man and straight towards you. As he tried to grab your forearm, he was thwarted as you defended yourself, blocking his arm and throwing him to the ground. Damian was shocked and Jason was grinning like a proud father. Roy came strolling in at the same time, having checked on Lian’s safety, no problems there. “What did you teach them?!” Damian screamed at Jason, blaming him for your newfound strength. “Everything, they’re a vigilante. I’m not gonna send them out on the streets without knowing how to defend themselves.” The second oldest brother swung an arm around your shoulders as you stood still, giving Damian a look that promised nothing good. 

Well, this was unacceptable to Damian, who had silently called for reinforcement, filming your entire interaction so far on a gadget connected to his chest plate. When Bruce heard Jason’s words, he felt yet another stone sink to the bottom of his abdomen, he had let you become a vigilante, his little Y/n… No, this would not do. All of them agreed on this. Once they had you again, they all decided that anything vigilante-related would be kept out of your reach. While both Dick and Bruce were flattered that you’d share a career path with them, they could not accept the danger it brought you in.

It didn’t take long for Damian’s request to be honoured, as Bruce and the boys took a zeta tube to Star City and immediately went to Roy’s. It took no more than twenty minutes, with Damian engaging in a violent screaming match with Jason, accusing him of kidnapping you, of forcing you to play his mock Robin just to spite your shared father and of many more heinous crimes, which the green-eyed man covered your ears for, despite your attempts to get him to stop touching you. When a barrage of impatient knocks sounded on Roy’s door for the second time, he didn’t open it. Instead, he opted for locking Lian’s bedroom door and grabbing his bow as well as a handful of arrows, which he had reverse-engineered from Oliver’s original ones, aiming one at the entrance. 

Of course, none of the dark-haired men on the other side waited for Roy to feel charitable enough to invite them into his home, as Dick harshly kicked the door in, wooden splinters spreading across the entrance hall’s floor. “What the hell are you doing in my home!” Roy screamed, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Lian. His bow was still pulled tight, an arrow aimed at the newcomers as a threat to not tread further into his flat. “Calm down, speedy. I will replace your door. I’m here to bring my youngest home”, Bruce muttered as he tried to enter the living room, only to be stopped by an arrow flying just past his nose. “Do not take another step. You are intruders”, Roy seethed, orange strands of hair swaying in the air as he made his way in front of the bat trio of Dick, Tim and Bruce.

Bruce was almost surprised by Roy's violent reaction. Almost. He was obviously quite aware of the redhead’s close bond with his second oldest, who had in turn evidently been closer to you than he had ever thought. You had moved in together, after all. Bruce did not blame Jason like Damian and Tim, instead, he simply saw it as an accentuation of his own failings as a father. Still, it was a very serious action to threaten the Batman, the very implications of which stunted both Bruce and Tim for just a moment. Dick wasn’t, however, immediately turning on his trusted secret weapon, skilful manipulation. 

With slow steps, Dick managed to get right in front of the archer, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. “Roy. Surely, as a father, you of all people must understand why Bruce wants his child back. Y/n and he needs to mend their relationship. For Y/n. Imagine how they’ll feel years in the future when they have no father to turn to? They have the chance to get a real security net, something which I know you always wanted at their age. Surely, you must realise that just you and Jason can’t be enough… Not to go into too much detail, but the two of you haven’t been known to be the most… how would you put it… reliable? Stable? …clean?”  Dick’s mention of Roy’s former substance problems broke his initial apprehension. Between Jason, you and him, it was a topic that was never mentioned, it brought back doubts and was probably his second biggest insecurity, his biggest one being… “Imagine if Y/n was Lian? You would want her to have a father, wouldn’t you? Of course, you do! That’s why you stayed. Y/n needs a father too, and not just that they need all of their brothers at their side, Jason can’t stand in for a father. Surely, you would know.” Dick continued. It was a dirty trick to mention Lian, but it worked as Roy lowered his bow, stepping aside for the Waynes to enter the room where Damian and Jason were currently in a screaming match.

Once Jason saw his other brothers and Bruce, he ripped you away from Damian and tried to push past them, holding your hand protectively and tight. It didn’t work, however, as Tim was quick to stun his older brother with a taser, right after Dick had tugged you securely into his latex-covered chest. You didn’t quite know what happened after that, Dick pried your lips and teeth apart, dropping a little round tablet on your tongue, before immediately shifting his hand to cover both your mouth and nose. Shifting the pill around in your mouth to not swallow it, while you tried to kick him away, did absolutely nothing. Dick was stronger and a greater fighter than you’d ever be, your attempts at resistance were little more to Dick than a cat scratching his arms. The blue-eyed man held you close with his free arm, gently cooing supportive reassurances as the pill melted in your cheeks, bitter and promising a nightmare when you woke up.

When your eyes opened again, you were laying in your old bed at Wayne manor. The window had been covered up with thick metal bars, spread no more apart than half of your head’s size. Much of your old stuff, which you had brought to Jason’s primary safe house, was back. They were nowhere near where you had put them when you lived here previously, a testament to how little whoever had reinstated your items actually knew about you. Sitting up, you found that your old cotton bedding had been changed for what you assumed to be silk, it was weirdly soft and you didn’t enjoy it in the slightest. Your duvet was a deep shade of green with golden accents, and you immediately knew who was responsible for the change. Damian. Perhaps he was even the one who had moved all your old stuff back. Their methodical placement, with very few items not lining the wall, certainly looked like how Damian had decorated his own room.

 A large red box, filled with all your old clothes, as well as a bunch of new items stood in the middle of your room. You ignored it as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up only to find that your vision was double-crossed and your breaths shallow, you were dizzy beyond measure and your head pounded like mad, not to mention the coating of glistening sweat, which made you feel gross just being in your own body. What in the world had Dick given you? 

Still, you attempted to move to the door, even if you realised you couldn’t stand up without fainting on the spot. Grasping your mattress tightly with both hands, you gently lowered yourself to the cold floor. Moving your legs under you, you managed to sit on your knees. Leaning forward, you took the fall with your palms, now standing on all fours. You hoped no one would ever see you in this state, it was humiliating not being able to move about as you normally did, but you had to get out or at least try. You had no idea what your father and brothers wanted with you, but you had a feeling it was nothing good.   

Sliding your shins forward and following the motion with your hands, you slowly made your way towards the door. Raising a hand to the knob, you were surprised when the door swung open by itself. In the door stood Tim, warm towels in his arms. “Ah! I saw on the camera feed that you were awake! I thought you might enjoy some pampering.” A beat of silence rang out as you met Tim’s eyes, pale blue like a summer sky. You almost impressed yourself as you jumped forward, drilling the top of your head into his knees, making the lanky man fall to the ground with a grunt, as you tried to crawl away as quickly as possible. Tim was quick to get back on his feet, running after you, but you had already reached the closest stairs leading down. It only took one look down the long wooden construction to realise what you had to do, even if it would hurt more than anything. Tim realised what you were trying as he saw your shifty eyes cast a sideways glance down the steps.

 “Y/n! Don’t you dare!” You didn’t let him finish as you closed your eyes and leaned to the side, starting to roll down the steps… or at least you would have, had it not been for the iron grip on your forearm. At first, you believed it to be Tim, but as you started to struggle, you realised that the hold was too tight and the hand too strong. Cracking open an eye, you could feel your heart sink into your stomach. Damian. Somehow, your youngest brother was the scariest one. The others were always ambivalent to your presence, but Damian had been openly hostile to you in your youth, oftentimes attacking you verbally or physically, and you didn’t doubt he could be violent towards you again. “What are you doing, Y/n?” His voice was no-nonsense, yet his eyes were soft. A strange dichotomy. “Getting away from you psychos”, you mumbled coldly, your throat was dry and the urge to cough arose as you spoke. The green-eyed man looked pensive, a tick in his jaw betrayed how he was trying to hold in his anger. He didn’t bother answering your insult, instead, he slung you onto his back and made his way back to your room, sneering at Tim when the two passed each other. Once back in your room, Damian held you down on the bed by your wrists, as he sat next to you. A general meeting was called, involving everyone in the family, except Jason, whom you had no clue where had gone.

Bruce had arrived almost immediately, with Dick prancing in not too long after. You weren’t sure what they wanted from you, assuming this was all to save Bruce’s public image, but even if that wasn’t the reason, you were sure that it was nothing good. They had all shown up on Christmas just to take you away from the only people you considered close friends and family. No one with good intentions would do something like that. As soon as the offending Waynes had all arrived, you spat out for them to announce the purpose of your kidnapping immediately. Both Bruce and Dick seemed disturbed by you titling their actions as a kidnapping. With the latter trying to defend it as being more of an obligatory change of scenery. It didn’t work, and you waited for someone to give you a proper answer with a deadpan. Damian had loosened his grip on you as the others arrived and all sat at the edge of the bed, surrounding you and making sure that you no longer had any possibility of escaping. It was claustrophobic and ominous.

Bruce was the one to explain that they had all led you back home to build the relationships, which you had all been deprived of in your younger years, expressing his regret and familial love for you, something which was echoed by the other men in the room. You were unconvinced. Telling them to drop the act and just tell you the real reason already, exclaiming how you didn’t have time to play charades with them. No matter how much they tried to convince you of their sincerity, you would have none of it, throwing their past actions in their face as proof of their dishonourable underlying motives. The meeting adjourned with no real progress made, other than the four of them deciding that you would be a danger to yourself if left alone and, therefore, making a schedule of when each of them would be by your side.

Bruce was shocked at your inability to believe in their love for you, his guilt multiplying by a hundred as he realised how untrusting you had become of your own family. He realised that he was to blame, attempting to grasp your hand, so small compared to his. Yet, when his fingers came close to yours, you jerked away, sending him a stare filled with nothing but disgust and hatred. He swore to change this, to do anything in his power to turn you to the truth of your family’s love for you, his love for you, his youngest child. The one he had almost let slip away. 

Dick was heartbroken, he had truly believed that when they revealed their regret, you’d accept them back into your life with open arms. At your apprehension, the acrobat felt as if he was brought right back to when his parents died. Once again feeling his family slip through his fingers. However, this time, he was no longer the innocent bystander, who had done nothing to deserve the situation. No, this time he felt just like the man who had cut the robes of his parents’ trapeze. He had been the one who sabotaged his relationship with you. Still, he refused to let that be how the two of you would part ways. No. He deserved a second chance, he was your brother, after all. Family doesn’t just split with each other because of misunderstandings. He promised you and himself that he would not let it end like this. The two of you would become just as close as he and Damian, no matter how long it’d take. Dick could wait... No, he couldn't.

Tim blamed Jason for your sudden unwillingness to trust their intentions. Not even giving their prior neglect any thought. It was funny how he had practically worshipped Jason when he was younger, but now? Now, he blamed Jason for having corrupted your mind. Tim had completely turned around the memories of you attempting to communicate with him when you were younger. Instead of him telling you to scram every time you walked into his room to talk, he had deluded his own mind into thinking that he used to welcome you with open arms. Certain memories of Conner and him playing video games for hours on end were changed into the two of you doing the very same. He did not blame you for your hesitance, he preferred to solely, yet delusionally, place the entire blame on Jason. The ex-Robin, who had once been Tim’s biggest idol, had now turned into his greatest enemy. The way he so readily placed the blame on someone else spoke volumes about his lack of awareness when it came to your lucidity. He was sure that he could turn your mind ‘right’, by that he, of course, meant, ‘make you believe his version of events’. Tim’s delusional memories might’ve started off as just a plan to manipulate you, but they almost immediately turned into his own perceived truth. Anything to place the blame on Jason and not himself.

While Damian also disliked Jason like Tim, he was nowhere near delusional. He was highly lucid and entirely aware that, yes, they had all treated you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. Yes, you were probably well within your right to deny them any affection or chances. Yes, their new-found obsession with your love had become unhealthy and guilt-ridden, and it was certainly to your detriment. However, Damian had always been selfish and spoiled, two traits of his that he was aware of, yet couldn’t find it within himself to change. He was brought up as a prince his entire life, first as the heir to Eth Alth'eban and then as the unofficial prince of Gotham. There had never been anything he wanted that he didn’t get, and he knew that you would be no different. He was loyal to any cause he set his mind to and now, you would be it. No matter how much you’d fight, he was willing to keep his course. It was better for the both of you, he would get to enjoy your presence, and hopefully your care, while you’d be protected from any and all harm. Damian would give you the world if you asked, literally, so he saw no reason why he couldn’t demand your affection.

After your initial shock at the kidnapping subsided, you came to realise that your family’s newfound care had nothing to do with their public image, but rather some psychotic break in their mentality. Their affections turned clingy and you slowly started to feel a sense of hopelessness. They never let you be alone and they were so demanding of your affections. 

Dick was especially bad in that regard, forcing you to cuddle and be physically affectionate, even if you showed an aversion to physical touch. He didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be close with your eldest brother, which meant he lent you little to no understanding in regards to any lack in the enjoyment of his company. Bruce never stopped Dick, always excusing his overly affectionate demeanour and encouraging you to do the same. Dick would in general be very open and clingy in his affection, barely letting you leave the couch or bed so that he could just encase himself around you like plastic wrap, rubbing your cheeks together and otherwise holding onto you tightly. It would really just be a way for him to make sure yiu were still there, that you weren’t missing like the night they brought you back. It really changed him deeply. Dick would also likely move back into the manor, much to everyone’s, except you, delight. That way he could be near you more often and better follow the observation schedule that they set up.

Bruce himself was much more willing to let you have your space, but there were certain things which he demanded, like you calling him dad, or at least father, or you eating your meals next to him. The eating arrangements always put you between Bruce and Damian, across from Dick. If that wasn’t bad enough, Bruce also enjoyed watching you eat, feeling a sense of fulfilment as he ensured that you stayed safe and sound. Of course, Bruce had cut you out of vigilante life completely, and if it had been solely up to him, he would’ve wrapped you in bubble wrap and kept you by his and your brothers’ sides forever. However, he realised that bubble wrap might be uncomfortable and probably wasn’t a very breathable material for your skin, so he did the next best thing. He made sure that you were constantly provided for, as well as spoiled beyond measure, giving you any gift that he thought you could possibly enjoy. It was, in a way, his way of giving you back what he felt he owed you for all the birthdays, Christmases and other holidays that he had missed out on. Not only that, but he also enjoyed the idea of him providing for you as a good father should.

Tim spent hours trying to ‘re-program’ your mind. He would describe in great detail how the two of you used to spend time together. He became frustrated when you explained how none of it ever happened and started to double down, blaming Jason for messing up your mind. Sometimes, Tim would even drag you to his room, which had become even messier as he slowly started to spend less time there and more time with you, and force you to re-enact ‘your old memories’ by playing the games he remembered the two of you playing. He would force you to sit on his bed, between his legs, as he caged you in with the rest of his lanky body and rested his head on your shoulder. It made you claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but Tim would get pouty and extend the gaming sessions if you tried to get away. The worst part of being with Tim, however, wasn’t listening to his delusional rants about your old relationship, no, that was an unavoidable nuisance at best. The worst thing was how he would dirty Jason’s name with the vilest of allegations, none of them rooted in reality. Everything from Jason kidnapping you, to Jason wanting to put your life in danger to punish Bruce and, worst of all, that Jason was somehow in a conspiracy with the League of assassins to kill you so that Damian would be Bruce’s only true heir. Whether or not you believed anything Tim said in the beginning, it was hard to entirely brush off all his claims as they were repeated to you verbatim almost every day. Sometimes Tim would even present ‘evidence’ for his claims, like videos of Jason acting suspiciously, or messages intercepted between Talia and Jason, written in their handwriting, mentioning you in a less than ideal light. Most of this ‘evidence’ was either taken out of context or simply fabricated. With many of the letters that Tim claimed were from Talia having been written by Damian, who knew his mother’s handwriting down to the smallest flicker of her wrist. 

  Damian was perhaps the most refreshing of them. He wasn’t nearly as overbearing as Bruce, nor was he as clingy as Dick and Tim. Damian was simply quite demanding. “L/n, sit next to me”, “L/n, come read with me in the library”, “L/n, come walk with me through the gardens”, and so on. His commands were easy to follow, and not to be questioned, Now, that was something you could do. Damian was less of an affection seeker, he was more patient than the rest, perfectly willing to wait until you were ready to get emotionally close to him. He would wait, with welcoming arms and a composed smile. If you ever showed Damian any affection, like a hug or putting your head on his shoulder while the two of you were reading, he would experience a brief moment of shock, before laying an arm or two around you, careful not to overwhelm you, but absolutely celebrating like new years in his mind. On the other hand, if you were to try and escape, Damian would have no qualms about breaking both of your legs with a sledgehammer, Annie Wilkes-style. Damian is deeply loyal, both to you and to Bruce, but even more so to himself and his personal beliefs. Once Damian sets a goal, he will not lose sight of it, this is also why he can remain so patient with you, but it also means that even if you somehow calm down the rest of your family’s yandere tendencies to manageable levels, this will never be the case with Damian. He will forever remain by your side, ready to protect and serve you. He does almost become reverent in his familial love for you, not in a deity-like way, but he does view you as one of the only people set above him, this reflects in the painted portraits, which he will no doubt create for you. Your room and his will both end up covered in your portraits, from different angles, with different hairstyles and so on, it is almost unsettling to see your own eyes staring back at you everywhere you go, almost like a 1984 Big Brother, only it is yourself. Damian will also take you to interact with his pets, he might keep both Titus and Batcow at a distance at first, afraid that they’ll hurt you, however, he almost transfers ownership of Jerry and Alfred the cat to you, thinking you could probably need some non-human companions to help you settle back in. He would also help you re-decorate your room if you’d like, only to sneak in deep green imagery here and there to remind you of him.

They are all exceptionally loving of you, you are their little prince/princess/royal, and they make sure to treat you like one. Alfred is almost embarrassed at the over-the-top behaviour, but he accepts it, as he feels obliged to always go with what Bruce wants. Bruce was once his little boy, (not biologically but in spirit), and he understands why the man acts as he does, even if he disagrees with the intensity of their treatment of you. He does, however, offer brief moments of reprieve, when he takes observation duty and simply lets you sit in the kitchen, munching on a cookie or two, doing whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t bring you in danger. It feels nice to just be yourself, even if only for a fleeting instant.

Jason had tried to get you back many times but was constantly being fought back by the rest of the family, physically and mentally. He had tried asking Roy for help, but the redhead was afraid of what they’d do to Lian, so he refused. The other Justice League members were of no help either, while they enjoyed Jason’s presence, they were first and foremost Bruce’s friends, and as such took his side in the matter. There was nothing Jason could do, he was powerless to help you as you were practically held captive within your old childhood home.

In short, the family made you the jewel of their eyes, your previous neglect was swept under the rug and you’re expected to forget it or at least forgive them. If I were to rank them from worst to best, it’d probably be Tim, Dick, Bruce, Damian and Alfred, (let’s be honest, he’d definitely turn at least slightly yandere after a while, even if you won’t notice. Heck, the fact that he lets Bruce hold you captive definitely screams “Not entirely against you being here against your will”). I think Tim would be the worst, as he often puts the need to convince you that you have always been close and his hatred of Jason before your actual wants and needs, and he will do things which you will find traumatic and uncomfortable, just to get you to agree with him. Dick is right behind him, as he puts his own need for extreme physical validation before your comfort and will expect you to forgive him relatively fast, as well as not being particularly sympathetic to your situation. Bruce and Damian are both tolerable, with Bruce being slightly worse due to his extreme overbearingness and lesser patience. Alfred is… well he’s Alfred, he treats you like a normal person would, while just being insanely enabling in his lack of action against Bruce. You’ll never escape any of them, so you better get comfortable.

[yanderismo]

Yandere Platonic Superman Concept/Idea (?)

BRO, BRO, I DON'T KNOW IF I LOVE OR HATE MY MIND FOR GIVING ME IDEAS THAT I'LL NEVER START OR FINISH. But okay, I have an idea for a platonic yandere Superfam, maybe it involves Batfam or the entire DC universe. I think this is more platonic yandere Superman. Let's go. (using the translator, be kind to me please 😭) 

— Imagine that you are originally from the Injustice universe. You were a neutral young/teen heroine who wasn't at all interested in siding with Batman or Superman. Well... that neutrality of yours had consequences, and now, somehow, Superman and Batman were in a bloody tug of war to get you on their side. And you are the cable they are selfishly pulling. And one day that cable would break, and that's what happened to you, you broke it. So broken that I would consider it irreparable. 

— But luckily for you (bro, are you lucky?), after so much physical and mental suffering, you ended up in a way that I won't explain, in the original DC universe. In other words, no superheroes is crazy tyrants. Too bad you don't know that (yet).

— You were living as if the world was a danger to you (just like it was in Injustice). But you discovered that you were REALLY in a different universe or timeline when you met Lois Lane, the woman who drove Superman insane after her death. And it shocked you, you thought maybe you had gone back in time. And as reckless as it was, you felt hope that you could stop the future of Injustice from happening, stop Lois Lane from being murdered! After all, you were still a hero, even if you had probably lost half of your original universe's neurons.

 — So you made a decision. You decided to protect Lois Lane! You practically become her protective shadow. Being noticed wouldn't do any good, and for SO FEAR of being confronted by Superman/Clark for apparently stalking his wife, you stopped watching her when Clark showed up and you went back when Clark left. (In your head, this Superman is the same Superman from Injustice, just before Lois' death happened). You were wary as hell of all the heroes. Anyway, a lot of trauma caused by Injustice.

— And I believe that Lois, even if she was a civilian, would notice that she was being watched (or maybe you're just not very good at stalking because you're a very young heroine). Whatever it is. Lois noticed and she became cautious (she is a journalist, there are many people who may not like her to the point of committing atrocities), as you could be a threat to her life. Although you haven't revealed yourself as any threat so far.

 — But let's suppose there were events in which she was in danger (actually, it was just something like shelves falling, preventing her from being run over, preventing some rabid dogs from biting her, small things), events in which you managed to remain hidden, however Lois knew it was You, her strangely protective stalker. Lois was trying to know your intentions and work it out for herself, so she didn't say anything about it. If this is something much more than she can handle, Clark can always lend a little help. 

— But on another one of those times when she was in danger, you desperately saved her (the situation was quite dangerous, more than normal), asking if she was okay and everything. Lois was surprised, you were surprised. Before you know, the idea of staying in the shadows went down the drain. You were almost begging (you were begging) her not to tell anyone that you were persecuting her (protecting her), you didn't want her to report you to some authority (that would only hinder your mission) or worse, report you to Superman. You said, stammered, that you were just protecting her. Wanting to make sure Lois didn't feel threatened and report you. 

— The desperation, the panic in your voice, seemed too young for Lois to feel comfortable. You were like a scared child, you looked very much like just a scared child, and that made Lois uncomfortable but at the same time... motherly. If you wanted to hurt her, you would have done it already. You at least accomplished one thing: making Lois not feel threatened by you.

 — The other thing you couldn't do was stop Lois from telling Clark about you. Look, I'm sure Lois didn't mean it, it's uncomfortable to be watched almost every day, but also, since she discovered you, she's been quite worried about you.

 — And Clark is all worried, like, "What?? My wife is being stalked??? Oh wait, my wife is being stalked and protected. Well, that's still very worrying, I'm definitely going to check it out for myself." Furthermore, Lois insisted that he be gentle when approaching you. And Lois saying this to him made him even more intrigued. 

— He tried to approach you just as Clark Kent, just to know how you would react around a seemingly civilian person, think of it as a method to read your character (he didn't want to confront you as Superman in a careless way. After all, who wouldn't Does he act nice or change to a more pleasant personality around Superman?)

— Needless to say, Clark was surprised and confused when you looked at him like he was the greatest terror of your life before simply running away from him. He recognized that look, only villains who were traumatized after a confrontation against him have that look (but the you look was much, much worse than that). That day, you didn't chase Lois.

 — Clark suspected you knew his secret identity. There is no longer any reason for you to have reacted like this. 

— lol, that day Lois noticed the absence of the feeling of being watched and scolded Clark for scaring you. Although it wasn't his fault, he apologized. He really didn't mean to scare you ;( You were gone for a few days after that. But of course, you still had to protect Lois in her everyday life. Even if you were scared. 

— Anyway, it didn't matter how softly, friendly Superman approached you next time. You ran, or at least tried to run. Do you really want to bet on who is the fastest? He easily caught you and held you by your forearm. And that was enough to make you scream, cry, struggle and finally, shrink as much as possible.

— And Superman was all confused, he wasn't even hurting you or squeezing you hard. His voice was also friendly. If anything, it made him even more worried. Add the fact that you appear to be very young and his paternal instincts kicked in. 

— To his surprise, you pulled out a knife. Something like that couldn't hurt Superman, of course not. But who said the knife was meant to hurt him? Let's say you picked up the knife and tried to slit your own throat as a last resort escape. (What did you go through with Superman from Injustice to the point that you tried to commit suicide just to escape him?) 

— Superman was surprised and then horrified. He immediately knocked you unconscious before you cut deeper into your throat. Now with you unconscious, you seemed more vulnerable and fragile than you should have been. Now he understood why Lois was worried about you. (You know, if Batman can adopt multiple children, why couldn't Superman...? You seem like a good kid and even Lois agrees with that. Conner and Jon would definitely like to have a sister) 

— Superman wondered what happened to you that made you reach the point where death was a usable route. He wanted to question you personally, but the moment he confirmed that you knew his identity (you acted the same way when he approached you as a civilian. He was the only one to receive this reaction from you and no one else), this matter became the subject of the Justice League. Discovering the identity of a superhero and pursuing someone close to that superhero was not going to be taken lightly. Who's to say you don't also know the identities of others? Although Superman wants to deal with you alone, he doubts he'll get any information out of you with you yelling and screaming. So he took you to the justice league. 

— Batman can definitely help you solve this.

(Imagine the anguish it would be to probably have to get used to people having the same appearance and the same voice as your captors in Injustice. Imagine them acting all soft after finding out you come from a universe where the heroes are corrupt and broke you😩)

Notas: I leave the rest to you. Or to any author who wants to use this idea (I beg you, some author write a Yandere platonic Superman/Superfam fic😭 They could even add other platonic Yanderes like Batfam, it would be so interesting 🙏😭)

(I just realized that the one who acted the most Yandere was Reader herself, lol)

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

comfort | kmg

i am feeling icky (physically and mentally and basically in all the ways, send help lol) and as always mingyu is my comfort human so i guess i was just feeling it. reader is mentioned to be an introvert. also reader is in a bad place mentally, lowkey is implied to be a depressive episode (self-insert? hi). kinda sorta from mingyu's pov. pet names used (honey, baby, my love). kinda sorta based on this song (How to Love You Today by Son of Cloud).

mingyu understands the difference between being introverted and being quiet -- after all, he's friends with hoshi, an introvert, who can blow his eardrums at a moment's notice. he's also dating you, and while you're no hoshi, you're definitely not a wonwoo, either.

more than understanding the difference between quiet and introverted, though, he knows you. so he knows that look you have in your eyes -- the hollow, dull look that steals over your features, sometimes for weeks at a time, while you struggle to feel anything at all. he sees it in you now as you stare out the window at the gloomy clouds gathering over the hills.

it's getting bad again. he knows it. you're usually so still when you sleep, and so splendidly expressive while you're awake, but recently that has switched -- your dreams are restless and your sleep-talking more vocal, and you spend more time sitting and staring than you do normally, your face blank and empty, your hands cold whenever he reaches for them. these are the kinds of days that sap you of your saturation, leaving you feeling listless and drained -- times when mingyu has to remind you in gentle tones to eat, to come to bed, to join him in the shower. your mind is not always kind to you, so mingyu has made it his personal mission to be so.

the worst part is, you've stopped singing. when you'd been "just friends", sometimes your constant humming and vocalizing would peeve mingyu when he was trying to concentrate, but after living with you for almost two years, he barely notices it anymore. in fact, he only really notices when you stop, and it's one of his first indicators that something is off about you.

he's been waiting for you to tell him what's going on. usually he can tell you're in a bad state before you can, but mingyu also knows that if he tells you he's noticed, you'll start trying to hide it from him. because you don't want to be a burden. (the thought of you ever being too much for him is laughable to mingyu. he loves you like it's breathing -- just an instinct, something he never even needs to think about, because it's just that easy. every person is heavy sometimes, so why was it so unreasonable for you, his most beloved and treasured person, to believe that he'd willingly carry you, no matter how heavy you got?)

so he waits, staying aware of you always, noting how the dark circles under your hollow eyes get more pronounced. and he worries, of course he does. but he also knows that one day, soon, you'll --

"mingyu?"

he's in the kitchen shredding lettuce for a sandwich for you when he hears it: that tiny voice you use when you're sort of kind of hoping he doesn't turn around to look at you. because you're on the verge of tears, or you look like hell, or a million other reasons that he couldn't care less about. so he turns around. "hey baby. what's up?"

"i...i don't feel good."

that's really all he needs. that's really all it takes, if he's being honest with himself. he goes to you where you hover in the doorway, afraid to take up space, and pulls you into his arms. "i know, honey. i've got you."

there's nothing like the feeling of having your tense muscles relax into him, the way your body releases all that angst as he runs a warm hand up and down your back. you lean your head against his shoulder and repeat, "you got me?" softly, almost embarrassed.

but even as mingyu's heart aches for you -- even as the tears prick the back of his eyes as he thinks of how you must've been suffering -- he feels so grateful. grateful that you trust him. grateful that you feel safe enough to do what he knows is so scary for you. grateful that you choose to do it despite everyone in the past who has made you feel inadequate for needing a hand.

he presses one, two, three kisses to your temple. "i've got you, my love. i've always got you."

[oneforthemunny]

carry out |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: you had a hard day. eddie's there to take care of you.

the janitor!eddie smut you all wanted.

contains: 18+ MINORS DNI, fluffy a little, soft and sweet eddie, oral fem receiving, fingering fem

Eddie knew something was wrong with you at lunch.

You had this uncanny ability to brighten a room just with your appearance, a radiating and attracting positivity that shined bright and attracted others to it easily. It was what first drew Eddie to you, that beautiful glow that wrapped around him like a warm hug and pulled him in tightly, safely.

Oh, how he loved it. How he was envious of everyone you shared it with. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it just for himself, selfishly, store as much of it away in case you ever left him- God, he hoped with every fiber of his being you never did.

Today was different. Eddie's face lit up, perking up in the metal chairs of the teacher's lounge when you walked in, but this time, your face was sullen. A little droopier and pouty than usual.

"You alright, honey?" Eddie asked gently. He knew you didn't like a lot of PDA during school hours, wanting to keep it as professional as possible to avoid HR.

You sighed heavily, jabbing your pasta salad with a fork. "Yeah," You muttered, but your eyes didn't lift from your Tupperware container. "'M just tired."

That was an understatement.

Drained, was more accurate, Eddie decided. Emotionally, physically, mentally just drained, sucked dry of all energy. You'd managed to muster up enough energy, enough fake smiles and exaggerated tones to get through the rest of your lessons. Steve had offered to take your class down for drop off, which you were beyond thankful for.

You stood in the doorway, ushering your students into a line for Mr. Harrington, grinning though your smile didn't meet your eyes. Eddie watched from the edge of the hall, pushing his cart lazily to get the trash.

"Hey," Eddie called, abandoning his cart against the wall. You looked up at him, tired eyes and slumped shoulders. "You alright, sweetheart? You feeling ok?"

Your eyes cut around you, looking at the other teachers in the hall watching the two of you. Of course they knew you were in a relationship, everyone did, but today you couldn't bring yourself to dealing with their cutting glances.

Stepping into your classroom, you shut the door behind you and Eddie, leaning against it on the handle. "Ed, I am just so tired." You sighed heavily, head falling back on the door. "Today was... Today was a lot."

Eddie's face fell, lips pressing together gently. He searched your expression, your features, for any quirk or cue of something he could do, something he could read into to make it better for you.

"I'm sorry, baby." Eddie sighed helplessly. Fuck, did he hate feeling helpless. "What can I do to make it better? You wanna talk about it? Scream about it?" He teased lightly.

Your lips tugged in the corner ever so slightly, but your eyes remained dull. "I just wanna go home." You sighed, nodding slightly.

"Ok," Eddie croaked, tracking you gently while you grabbed your purse and bags from your desk. "I'll, uh, I'll finish up here and-and I'll head home soon, ok? I'll be super quick." His heart rate was rising a little too uncomfortably quick. He could hear the trilling thump ringing in his ears, palms sweating.

"Ok, honey," You muttered, pulling out your own keys. "I don't think I have it in me to cook tonight. I'm sorry."

Eddie shook his head fiercely, pulling you into his chest. "Don't worry about that." He said fiercely. God, was he such a dick you thought you needed to apologize for not cooking? Did he make you feel like you had to? What was wrong with him?

"I'll take care of it, ok? I'll take care of you." Eddie leaned forward, his curly bangs tickling your forehead.

You lifted your eyes to his, taking in those pretty brown eyes that always had you melting with the slightest gaze. "Let me take care of you tonight, sweetheart. I know you had a rough day." He cooed, hand moving to cup your cheek gently.

You turned into his palm, placing your hand over top of his own. Eddie flushed, familiar heat rising through his chest. There was that warmth, the one he'd been missing from you all day, a small glimmer peeking through the cloudy fog.

"I'll see you when you get home." You muttered, lifting to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was brief, soft, left him aching for more, but enough to soothe his buzzing nerves.

Eddie finished gathering the trash and wiping down desks in record time, practically sprinting to his van after he locked up, flying down the roads towards your small home.

He found you on the couch, which he was thankful for, changed out of your school clothes, curled up and watching a movie. Relaxing, he was glad.

You turned to greet him, looking over the couch with half lidded eyes, still drooped and dull from the day, muttering a greeting towards him. Eddie was practically shedding his coveralls (the school mandated ones that made him feel confined and silly).

"Do you want me to cook, or do you want me to call something in?" Eddie asked, bustling into the kitchen, uniform bunched around his waist, flipping through the drawers for the menus.

You sighed with a shrug. "Whatever you want to do." You muttered, lazily leaning into your palm. "'M not very hungry."

"Baby," Eddie sighed, a soft edge to his tone.

"I just..." You hesitated, craning your neck to look back over at him. "Can you just come sit with me? Please?"

And how could Eddie not oblige? Why would he ever want to deny you? He'd rip his own heart straight out of his chest if you asked him to.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked gently, settling on the couch next to you. His hands found your legs, pulling them into his lap, spreading the blanket over the two of you. "You alright?"

"I just had a really long day." You let out a long breath. "I just... I don't even want to think anymore. I don't want to think about dinner, or-or school, or anything other than just being here with you right now."

Eddie nodded slowly, fingertips tracing featherlight patterns on your shins. "Anything I can do to help?" He didn't mean for his voice to carry that tone when he asked, but he offered it nonetheless.

He was a little surprised when you didn't grin or snort, just looked up at him with brows drawn up and rounded eyes. "Please?" You asked gently.

Eddie stilled, body going rigid slightly with shock. "Yeah?" He asked, a blush creeping gently up his neck. "I mean, if-if that's what you want."

"I honestly can not think of anything better to help me relax." You admitted softly.

Eddie couldn't help but grin, all dimples and twinkling eyes that glistened hungrily over your frame. You in your sweat pants and his t-shirt, his favorite version of you; well, besides you naked.

"Sweetheart, all you have to do is ask." Eddie grinned. "You know I can't get enough of you. Fuckin' delicious, you know that."

You blush under the vulgar praise, a tiny grin that leaves Eddie reeling. He's on his knees in front of you, shimmying your sweatpants off and fixing himself so he's got each thigh on his shoulder. He's practically drooling at the sight of your cunt.

Your hands find his hair easily, brushing through his curls with a content sigh, melting further into the couch while Eddie places sloppy smooches to the inside of your thighs. Teasing, just barely, he couldn't deny himself much longer.

Pillowy lips pressed against your mound, nose nuzzling into the light wiry hair there, breathing in your scent deeply. You sigh heavy. "Please, Ed, don't tease me."

Eddie didn't need to be told twice. Never, for you. Calloused hands pressing under your thighs, lifting your legs a little higher for him, plump lips kissing your slit once with a full, wet kiss. Then again, this time, his tongue slipping gently between your folds.

You squirmed, his tongue licking a stripe through your sopping pussy, teasing over your clit. Enough to get your hands gripping his hair a little harder, pulling him up back to your swollen bundle of nerves.

Eddie moaned, flattening his tongue to lick a wide stripe through you again, going back to lap at your sopping hole, catch every last one of your delectable taste. His nose nuzzled into your clit, leaving you hips bucking with movement.

"Ed," You whined, nasally and airy. "Please, right there. Use your tongue there." You pulled on his curls, raising him to your clit, throbbing and desperate for relief.

Eddie obliged. Of course, he did. He was good to you like that.

Lips curling around your clit, he lapped and suckled at your sensitive spot, eyes watching you carefully. With every flutter of that magnificent mouth, you were gasping, thighs closing around his head, squirming and rocking on the couch.

Eddie grinned, his jaw was aching a little, but he could see through your face, pinched eyes and small gasps, you were enjoying it. Your back arched, fingers knotted into Eddie's thick curls when his pointer finger sunk into you, curling into your spongey walls with ease.

"Oh, fuck, Ed. Right there, right there, oh!" You whined, hips grinding and rolling onto his mouth,

Your toes curled hard, heels digging into the blades of his back. "Please, oh fuck, I'm so close." You panted. "K-Keep doing that. Yes, that, right there."

Eddie pulled back gently, a second finger pumping in and out of you, thumb reaching up to circle your clit. "You got it, baby." He breathed out slowly. "I got you. I got you."

Your eyes rolled back, a black staticy vision consuming your sight when his lips wrapped around your clit again. Your hips jumped, sharp and thrusting with impulse, thighs quivering at the sensation. You could feel the pressure building, the lewd sloshing sound filling the room, missing with your pants and whines in a vulgar symphony; music to Eddie's ears. Fucking beautiful, he wanted to play it over, and over, and over.

A final curl of his fingers, brushing that aching spot inside of you had you spilling over, a wet release that flooded all over Eddie. He didn't let up once, not even with the burning in his jaw, or the way you were smothering him into your wetness. He'd gladly waterboard himself in your essence, that was hardly punishment in his eyes, more like his own paradise.

Your chest heaved, body shaking and spasming with every violent after shock that followed. Eddie waited until your were pushing him away, light presses of your palm to his forehead after he lapped you up.

Eddie laid his cheek against your inner thigh, resting it there while he watched you, slumped into the couch, chest heaving and eyes glassy.

"You-You're way too good at that." You shuddered after a moment, slinging your arm over your eyes. You could hear your heartbeat ringing through your ears, pussy clenching and spasming around nothing with every aftershock that shook and tore through you.

Eddie grinned. "You flatter me, baby." He teased, pressing a sweet kiss to the soft skin of your thighs.

You shook your head furiously. "No way." You moaned lightly. "There's no good reason you should be that good at eating me out."

Eddie blushed, snorting lightly, cheek resting back against your skin. The featherlight tickle of his long, dark lashes against your skin had you shivering lightly. "You feel better?" Eddie asked, those same long lashes batting up at you sweetly. Oh, you wanted to kiss him. If you thought you'd be able to move easily, you would.

You nodded, instead, a small smile gracing your lips. Eddie saw it, that same twinkle back in your eyes, breaking through the fragments of you that he knew so well. "I do," You hummed, brushing his curls gently behind his ear. He melted into your touch. "You always get me so good, baby. Take such good care of me."

Eddie burned with praise, moving to press a kiss to the palm of your hand, hiding his blushing cheeks. "So," Eddie groaned lightly, moving out from under you, stretching to grab your discarded sweatpants.

"Now that I've eaten," He grinned, leaving you blushing. "What would you like to eat?"

"You chose." You sighed heavily. "I'm not picky."

Eddie smirked, shimmying your pants up slowly. If he knew you (and he did), you'd want Chinese food. You'd told him once, that shitty days called for Chinese food, and good days called for pizza. He wasn't sure what your logic was behind that, but he didn't care. It was you, your logic, your thoughts, and all you. He was thankful, stupidly so, that he was apart of you, could share those small details with you, and wanted to know every single other one.

In time, he would, but for now; he just wanted to know what your bad day was about. You'd tell him later over half bites of noodles, voice gravely and soft. He'd listen, he always did, it was what you loved about him, so caring and attentive. You'd go to bed, and tomorrow would be better. It would be a better day for the both of you. You'd return with that same warm glow that had Eddie dizzy and wanting more.

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Jotaro Kujo — kakyoin's amusement

cw: nothing rlly, jotaro kujo is bad at feelings tag

an: inspired by that tiktok audio of when he sees me lol

Always being on the move with barely any breaks and with enemies at every turn has left Kakyoin with little to no entertainment. Of course, he doesn't mind, even if he's already starting to miss his NES.

Fortunately for the red-head teenager, it seems that the Gods have heard his prayers and have blessed him with a new source of entertainment, exclusive front-row seats that only he is the audience of, said entertainment being the hidden feelings between you and Jotaro.

Well, it's not really hidden—you're both aware of your feelings, just not each other's. And being the only other teenager left, the two of you ran to Kakyoin to rant about your feelings. 

And just the admissions alone was already absolutely amusing.

You were the first to admit your feelings. 

It was still early on the journey, and Kakyoin was tasked to retrieve tickets with Jotaro, but he found that the teen had already gone on without him. Shrugging it off, Kakyoin opted to enjoy his stay and make the most of the hotel amenities instead. 

He found himself in the pool area, and much to his surprise, he caught you in one of the beach chairs on the poolside. Feeling his eyes on you, you wave him over, and he approaches you to sit on the beach chair adjacent to yours. 

It was quiet, and Kakyoin racked his brain for anything to say. Eventually, he opens up the conversation with one of the obscure facts he knows off the top of his head. 

Thankfully, you responded in kind, and the conversation flowed easily from there. Your conversation bounced from one thing to another before eventually, the both of you settled in comfortable silence while laying back on your respective beach chairs. 

It was a bit sudden for Kakyoin, but he'd be lying if he said he was surprised when you suddenly admitted it. 

"I think I like him...." You spoke, suddenly breaking the silence between you and the red-headed teen. Kakyoin glances at you, and he can see you feeling a bit embarrassed to say it out loud. 

"Hm..." Kakyoin hums in response before adding with a noticeable teasing lilt in his voice. "Who? Polnareff?"

"Yes, of course. Because I want a grown man." You respond sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you look at him, watching his lips turn up to an amused smirk. "I'm talking about Mr. Joestar, obviously."

"Right, my mistake." Kakyoin matched your energy, the both of you sharing a chuckle, before he turns to look at you, meeting your gaze. 

"So, Jotaro, huh?" 

Kakyoin's smirk widens at the sudden smitten look on your face just from the mention of the name, and he's 99% positive that you don't even realize it. 

"Yeah..." You sigh, one that reminds him of a hopeless romantic protagonist of romcoms he's seen his parents watch before. "I mean, can you blame me? Going through all these troubles just for his mom? How he jumped to save that kid without hesitation? And that face of his isn't helping."

"Honestly? I can't say I'm surprised." Kakyoin responds to your small rant, his voice soft and comforting. He sees your lips part, looking at him in slight panic, and he cuts you off before you can even speak. 

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks, Kakyoin."

"Mhm. Thank you for trusting me with this."

On the other hand, it took Jotaro quite a while before he admitted it—both to himself and to his friend. 

After a long day of fighting the menace that was Steely Dan and a long day of traveling, they ended up in another hotel. As usual, Jotaro and Kakyoin ended up sharing a room, and you ended up getting separated from them with your very own room. 

It was a really long day for both teenagers; both were drained and worn out, with Kakyoin mentally exhausted from exerting the effort to manifest his stand in a much smaller form and Jotaro both mentally and physically drained after all the beating he took earlier in the day. 

"I should've beaten him up more." Jotaro groans from his bed, making Kakyoin turn to look at him, a brow raised. 

"Steely Dan? You ended up hating him that much?" Kakyoin responds before leaning on his elbows, still lying on the bed. "How bad are the things he did to you when we left you with him?"

"That's not the issue. I've already made him pay for what he did to me." Jotaro responds, before shooting up from his bed, removing his hat, and placing it on the shared nightstand between their beds, running a hand through his hair. 

"But...." Jotaro trails off, and Kakyoin sits up on his bed as well, raising his brow even more. 

Jotaro grumbled something under his breath, and Kakyoin could swear he heard your name amongst the words the other teen grumbled. 

Kakyoin repeats your name, and Jotaro faces Kakyoin, his gaze hardened. 

"What about them?" Kakyoin asks curiously. 

"I can't easily forgive him for the shit he did to them."

Kakyoin is quite surprised by his words and how genuine they sound. His gaze darts to his friend's face, his scowl deeper than usual, a vein almost popping on his temple. Jotaro's exhaustion must be making him slip his composure, his emotions taking hold of his exhausted mind. 

"What did he do?" 

"He grabbed them. Right. in front. of. me." Jotaro scowls, his jaw clenched tightly. "Grabbed onto their arm so tightly like they were his."

Kakyoin blinks at that, his eyes widening slightly. No.. that expression on Jotaro's face.. it wasn't annoyance. Not completely...

"Held their chin to make them look at him. His face was so damn close to theirs, I would've punched him right then and there if it wasn't for the old man."

Definitely not annoyance. It's jealousy.

"I could feel Star Platinum just about ready to make him regret being born, and I had to actively hold him back." Jotaro finishes his mini-rant with a deep, annoyed sigh, his eyes darting over to look at Kakyoin. 

It was Jotaro's turn to look confused at the amused grin on Kakyoin's face, a knowing look in his lavender gaze, making Jotaro's brows scrunch in confusion as he looks at his friend. 

"The hell are you smiling about?" Jotaro asks bluntly with a deep scowl, "Didn't you hear a thing I just said?"

"I think you're the one who didn't hear what you just said, Jotaro." Kakyoin responds amusedly, his grin not faltering even under the scrutinizing gaze of Jotaro Kujo. 

"What are you blabbering about?"

"Think back to your words, Jotaro. You're not stupid."

Jotaro paused for a while, running a hand through his already messy hair at his friend's cryptic behavior. He was already exhausted and pissed off; he didn't need any more of Kakyoin's bullshit—still, curiously, Jotaro did as he was asked. 

Kakyoin's amused smile slowly widens along with Jotaro's eyes slowly widening in realization as he plays his own words back in his mind. His surprised gaze turned to look at Kakyoin. 

"Are you suggesting....?" Jotaro trails off with a hiss. "Fuck off."

"I'm not even saying anything."

"Don't think about it. I'd rather eat my socks."

"Oh?"

"Don't look at me like—" Jotaro sighs. "It's not like that,"

"But it is," Kakyoin insists with a raised brow and a smirk, "Isn't it?"

Jotaro didn't even respond this time, looking away from his friend's teasing gaze as his own landed on his bed sheets. Kakyoin could see the dust of pink on the other teen's cheeks the more he remained silent, and that was already enough of a response to him. 

"God fucking damnit." Jotaro curses under his breath at the realization, letting out a deep sigh as he glares at his sheets. Kakyoin remained silent as he let Jotaro think about his newfound feelings. 

Eventually, Jotaro turns his head to look at Kakyoin, the usual calm, cold, neutral look on his face as his ocean gaze stares through his lavender ones. 

"Turn away for a bit." Was all Jotaro said. Confused, Kakyoin did as he was told, turning his back to Jotaro and looking at the wall beside his bed. 

Suddenly, Kakyoin jumps slightly in surprise. 

Jotaro is screaming.

It's muffled, probably by his pillows and his sheets, and it probably wasn't loud enough to be heard outside their room, but loud enough to surprise Kakyoin.

It didn't take long before he heard a deep breath and then silence.

"Good night," Jotaro spoke nonchalantly, and Kakyoin swiftly turned, but Jotaro was already on his side, back turned towards the red-head who was only blinking at him in a mix of amusement and surprise. 

"Also, don't tell anyone about this."

"Aye, aye, captain."

[randoimago]

For bg3, could I request platonic Wyll, Astarion, Gale, and Lae'zel finding a Tav that's quietly breaking down from all the pressure of having to save and comfort people all the time. Like they want to help people, but it's becoming too much for them.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll

Note(s): They all need therapy after this, but idk if therapy exists in D&D so give them spa days and alcohol instead

Astarion

As someone that voices his complaints easily once he's become close enough to let you in on his secrets, he also knows when the feelings are being buried away. While he doesn't want to tell you what to do, he does pull you aside when you're back at camp to exchange supplies.

Saving people and being a hero has never been something for him, mostly because he never had someone to save him. Until you came around, that is. And he thanks you for that, but you need to stop putting so much on your shoulders. You want to save people? Well you won't be able to do that if you collapse.

You've been a good friend to him, so let him do the same to you. Take a fucking break. Break into that newspaper building and change the article to something ridiculous. Do something for yourself. Astarion is more than happy to introduce you to some of his more fun morally grey activities just to get everything off of your mind. He has dealt with the aftermath of being burnt out and wasting away because bottling your emotions becomes too much, he won't see the same happening to you.

Gale

Notices you looking tired and suggests a break. He'll always be happy to lend and ear and offer some words of wisdom. Mostly, let yourself rest. You're already doing a lot and you should find a nice book and lay down in your tent for a bit to destress.

While Gale is trying to have his morals in the right place, he also knows not everyone can or deserves to be saved. It's valiant of you to try and offer help to anyone you can, but he can see the toll it's taking on you mentally, emotionally, and physically. Honestly, Faerun is a big place, let some other adventurers lend their help, you deserve some wine.

It's a shame that Magnificent Mansion or Tiny Hut aren't spells you can get in game, but Gale would happily cast Magnificent Mansion for you to just have an impromptu spa day. It's what you deserve for being his greatest friend and for all that you do for others.

Lae'zel

She knows being a leader is hard and there are many challenges you must step up to. People will constantly seek your help and look to you for advice. She has seen it by many of her githyanki superiors and thought nothing of it. And then she finds you cracking.

Tells you that as a leader, you can't show your cracks or you'll be seen as vulnerable to enemy attacks. While at camp, rest as much as you need. She'll keep watch while you let out whatever emotions that you need to.

Will also remind you, that you're her leader. You don't lead all the people you come across on the road, you owe them nothing. Technically, you owe Lae'zel nothing as well, you have the freedom to choose what to do, morals be damned.

Wyll

He notices the cracks and he fully understands. Hell, he sold his soul to a devil because he was failing. You're allowed to break down. You're allowed to rest.

While Wyll, likes the idea of helping anyone in need, even he knows that it can be too much. A lot has happened to all of you in a very short span of time, he understands needing to rest.

He considers you a good friend and ally and if you'd allow him, he'd be glad to take the lead and let you rest. He can at least listen to those you come across and offer them comfort if you're too drained to do so.

Taglist:

@reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[chrollohearttags]

prompt #6

toxic armin! nd reader are arguing nd when reader talks her shit armin gets turned on nd pulls his dick out nd tells her to “suck on it” making her forget all the shit he did(once again)

and I was JUST thinking about him omg 😫😫 y’all have no idea how much I love toxic!armin. He does sum to meee.

cw: oral, spit play, fingers in the mouth, reader threatening armin bc it’s all he deserves

frustrated. the one word that came to mind when trying to express your emotions right now. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t articulate your words properly, let alone get your point across without becoming completely irate. That’s what happened when you dealt with the likes of armin artlert. A known playboy with a reputation that preceded him. But with all the information you heard from the streets about him dogging all his women, being a cheater and a dumbass, you decided to give him a chance. Under the premise that his ass was gone the second he acted the fool. Unfortunately, things weren’t so simple with him! You could never truly be free of him..whether physically from the fact that no man fucked you quite like he did. Or mentally because he’d blow your phone up and play mind games until you let him back in for a thousandth chance.

“Please…please give me one good reason why I shouldn’t bust you in your shit, Armin. Please give me one.”

“I already told you, angel. I don’t even know that girl…she probably has me confused with somebody else..”

another Saturday night wasted down the drain..where you could put partying with your girls, finding a man worth of a damn, it was being spent pacing the floor of your two bedroom apartment you shared together. Arguing and fussing about a potential side piece as he sat on the edge of the bed. Sprawled out shirtless with nothing but black sweats on. Shaggy blonde hair going everywhere and tattoos on his chest and forearm still vibrant from the lotion he applied after he showered. Despite how fine your man was, you were solely focused on ripping him apart. Pissed off that he had yet again embarrassed you. “So that bitch asked you to suck your dick and she got you confused with somebody else? Nah nigga, the only thing you and her both got..is me fucked up.”

ramping and raving like a mad woman as you poked his forehead with your long acrylics. Folded arms and puffed out jaws like a petulant child and all he could do was stare in adoration for how cute you were. He didn’t want to admit it but the sight of you putting him in his place really got Armin stirred up. Hearing you cuss him for everything he was worth..clapping your hands..he loved seeing you in this aggressive state. Even if it wasn’t healthy. “Playing in my motherfuckin’ face…I’m not one of these other bitches, Armin.” He heard you, loud and crystal clear but he couldn’t be vexed to care. He never did. He never gave a damn about his actions affected you or anyone else. But he’d pretend, so as long as he could get his own gratification..

“I know, baby..they’re nothing like you. That’s why I told you, I don’t even know her ass. You know how many of them are jealous of you? Seriously, who wouldn’t be? Look at you..”

his half assed attempt of mulling over the situation was bombing, until he resorted to desperate measures that is..leaning back, he’d open his legs a bit more and suck his teeth, flashing you a shit eating smirk. One that would undeniably get him his way! Extending an arm out, he’d grasp for your hand and pull you towards him, intertwining those fingers together and placing kisses on the knuckles.

“..shit, I mean…if I’m being honest, you got me thinking about you right now, baby. They can’t do any of the things you can. Can’t love me the way you can, not as beautiful as you are…and damn sure can’t fuck on me the way you do.”

you knew he was only trying to soften you up. Stop you from being angry and as always, that smooth charm and slick demeanor done its job. As he had your eyes adverted to his face, tugging you down gently to your knees for a kiss, his other hand was working to free his erection from its confines. Stiff and seeping with precum, he wanted nothing more than shove it between those pretty, gloss stained lips. But first, he’d shove two fingers between them, letting you suck them and coo to you as he always done. Swiping a finger across your cheek, he knew you were exactly where he wanted you. “Go ahead, baby..suck on it.”

prompting as he guided your head down into his lap. In a matter of seconds, he had those fingers wrapped around his shaft and that tip stuck in your mouth, sloppily sucking on it as you always did. Drumming up strings of saliva in the process and making you drool all over him.

“There you go…good girl. Only you can make me feel like this. Do what these bitches can’t.”

[licorice-tea]

You Feel Right; Stay A Sec

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: pining, yearning, wanting, and needing <3 no smut just fluff! kissing and smooching, just one mention of “going further”! reader is a heart pirate and likes reading :)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: it’s been a while since i wrote something for my man (Law <3) so i had fun with this😇☝️inspired by lyrics from the song “Hostage” by billie eilish… i love writing based on songs, it’s probably bc i have music playing 24/7 in either my headphones or on a speaker, and i just love music! so it’s easy to get inspo or create scenarios while listening to it, yk? anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

I wanna be alone

Danger around every corner, piles of work, tasks demanding his attention, and crew members in need of their captain’s opinion are all sources of constant stress for one Trafalgar Law. It’s not that he doesn’t love being a surgeon; it’s his passion, nor his crew; they’re the closest thing he has to a family now. It's just that his battery in all aspects- social, mental, physical- is constantly drained.

The only things keeping him going are steaming cups of black coffee and the rare moments of quiet before he passes out on top of his comforter. And, no matter what form the momentarily relief from life takes, it most always comes when Law is alone. He prefers it that way, anyway.

Alone with you, does that make sense?

He prefers being alone, really. Which is why nothing about you makes sense. Right off the bat, Law has felt differently around you than others. He made an effort not to show that difference in opinion no matter how strong it came to be at times.

Times like now, where sleep eludes Law despite how damn tired he is. For whatever reason, all he wants is to hold something- no, someone… you. Law wants to hold you. Or maybe you could hold him, who cares about the specifics?

Law flips on his stomach and groans into his pillow. This is new territory. He’s never wanted someone the way he wants you. A partner to hold close on nights like these, or to simply be alone with.

I wanna steal your soul

He has considered, on multiple occasions, telling you how he feels. But Law would never actually do such a thing. It would be a complicated and messy affair, surely, thanks to your positions. (His as your captain and yours as his subordinate.) And he wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to accept his confession, either.

Still… he wishes you were his, in every way a person could give themself to another.

And hide you in my treasure chest

At least you’re on his crew. You’re always nearby, should he need you, which he often does. Sometimes, Law likes to call you into his office for a made up reason. “Y/n-ya,” he’d say, “give me a rundown on tomorrow’s conditions at sea.” Though you’re not the navigator of the ship, you still know plenty about seafaring, so you’d comply. Then he’d find some other trivial matter to discuss, or offer you a new book so you could later exchange thoughts on it. Just something- anything to keep you around as long as possible. It’s so much more peaceful with you.

I don't know what to do

But how to make your role in his life a more permanent one? Law hasn’t a clue. Tonight, like many others, you sit on a couch in Law’s office. Neither of you speak, but the atmosphere is calm and comfortable.

Or it should be. Law discreetly looks your way every few minutes, then every few seconds. His eyes follow the way yours scan side to side over a page of your book. From the lines of your jaw and neck, to stray hairs falling over the curve of your cheek.

The usually undetectable tension seems to be coming to a point tonight, and Law doesn’t know how to resolve it. But he wants to, almost as much as he wants you.

So, for once in his life, he moves without much planning. Law rises from his desk and crosses the room to sit beside you. He (stiffly) puts his arm around the back of the couch. Naturally, you give him a perplexed look- it’s not like Law to suddenly reach out like this, physically or otherwise.

“Good book?”

“Yeah, thanks for recommending it.”

“For sure.”

“…Is that all?”

He nods, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes. Silently, he makes a plan to abort this failed mission.

Luckily, you stop him and take the initiative.

To do with your kiss on my neck

Law lifts his arm back off the couch and over you. But, you gently grab his wrist before he can go any farther. “Law, is there… You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Again, he simply nods. A moment of silently staring into each other’s eyes passes, and he leans forwards extremely hesitantly. Your hand moves from his wrist and tentatively rests on his shoulder. Still, Law doesn’t break eye contact (for once in his life), continuing to lean forward at a painfully slow pace. So you allow your hand to travel up to the side of his neck.

“You can kiss me.”

He nods again slightly, “I know. I- I will.”

I don't know what feels true

At long last, Law places a featherlight kiss on the corner of your lips. It’s an unsure, awkward action, but welcome nonetheless. His lips linger on yours, not quite aligned for a moment. Despite your breath being held, you allow your eyes to close and savor the feeling. You want more than this chaste kiss from him, of course, but you’d take your time with it. Law isn’t the kind of man you’d want to have a touch and go experience with. No, he’s the kind the one that you want to savor. The one that you want to take your relationship slow and steady with as he wants, and as a result get to spend even longer in his company.

When he pulls away, you can’t help but smile. Law’s parted lips close into the gentle curve of a smile as well, his usual smirk appearing much more bashful. The two of you lean back into each other. Your noses are nudged and warm breaths mingle before your lips can meet again.

But this feels right, so stay a sec

Law realizes he’s never done this before; kissing. But now, he’s hooked. He still doesn’t really know if he’s doing it correctly; if you’re enjoying the experience as much as he is, but it feels good. Therefore, he must be doing something right. Plus you only pull away from him to take breaths before immediately returning your lips to where they belong (on his), which confirms his hopes.

What started as a sweet and slow kiss ends up becoming a much hotter make out session. Months of pent up attraction and feelings for each other spill over, out of your mouth into his (and vice versa.) He’s the first to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip and get you to open up, and proceeds to groan into your mouth in a way that’s surprisingly communicative of how strongly he feels. It gets to the point where, besides your hands roaming over each others backs, you feel that your saliva must also be permanently entangled.

But all good things must come to an end. You pull back completely so that you and Law are properly facing each other, rather than within kissing range. “Law, I… We should talk about this. Before we go any farther.”

His face heats up at the implication; he hadn’t even thought that far ahead, too lost in your sweet taste, warm skin, and soft lips to do so. He nods and just murmurs, “Okay, let’s just keep doing this.”

You agree and kiss him without another word.

Yeah, you feel right, so stay a sec

When you do both finally wind down, and are left as nothing but half-sleep puddles in each other’s arms, Law murmurs something unintelligible into your hair.

Silence passes, though you can practically hear the gears in Law’s head turning. Finally, he speaks his mind. “Don’t go.”

A smile graces your features. How pleasantly surprising it is to have your captain- possibly the most closed off man you’d ever known- asking for you to stay. Of course, you hum in negation. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

His arms seem to tighten around you- though whether it’s reflexively or to keep you close, you’re unsure. “Good.” Then, Law murmurs something unintelligible against you.

“Hm?” He can feel the vibration on your lips against the side of his face more than he can hear it. That’s how closely you’re pressed into him.

Law clears his throat. “You feel right.”

“So do you.”

[slut4thebroken]

Erotomania pt. 2

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Jon isn’t adjusting as well as you thought he would and his behavior finally breaks you.

Warnings | Angst, violence (on accident lol), blood, eating disorder? (technically), slow burn, a lil bit of sexual tension, he’s still really mean, and a little whiny lol.

Words | 4.3 k

Notes | Ty for everyone who helped me out w this lol.

Ao3 link | <3

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gif: @kittenonpluto

Part 1

The following morning, you woke up to your alarm and immediately turned it off. Your head hurt, your eyes felt puffy, and you were just so tired and drained. So you decided to call off work. As you were trying to fall back asleep, you almost didn’t register the sound of your door opening because of how tired you were. 

“You’re going to be late.” You whined and buried your face in the pillow. 

“I’m not going.” You mumbled. 

“Get up. I don’t want to be stuck with you the entire day.” He said sternly, bringing back all the emotions you were feeling last night. 

“I’ll stay in here then. I don’t exactly feel like doing much else besides this.” The bitterness in your tone was mostly overshadowed by the sadness you were desperately trying to hide. You waited for his response, but after a while, he just slammed the door shut. 

True to your word, you mostly stayed in your room. You left to go to the bathroom and sometimes get food, but you didn’t eat with him. The day was spent reading, doing some work to make up for missing a day, trying to distract yourself so you didn’t make yourself cry, and moping. Every time you went out he was always in the exact same spot. Before dinner, you showered and changed into some clean pajamas, not wanting to physically feel the same way you felt mentally. 

“Have you eaten today?” He almost seemed startled by your voice. “If you tell me what you want, I can try to make it.” You said softly. He didn’t respond or look at you and you sighed before continuing. “Why aren’t you eating?” You were quickly growing frustrated with his behavior. 

“You’re the psychologist, you tell me.” Deep down you knew why, especially based on his words yesterday, but you were still hoping it would be because of some kind of temporary hunger strike or something instead. 

“You’d really rather die than be here with me?” You couldn’t help the way your voice broke. 

“Yes.” He spat and you immediately frowned as your bottom lip trembled. 

“Fine.” You grabbed a carving knife from the knife stand and stormed over to him, making him quickly stand up and take a step away from you. Once you were a few feet from him, you tossed the knife onto the ground in front of him. “Do it then. If this is so terrible and you hate me so much then just fucking do it.” He stared at the knife and you waited impatiently. 

“Or better yet, kill me.” That made him look up again. “I know you want to— and I can’t fucking take this anymore so just do it.” He stared at you, then narrowed his eyes. 

“Are you serious? My rejection is making you suicidal?” He scoffed. Your eyes burned with tears and you rushed forward, making him step back, but you reached for the knife on the floor instead of him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Now that it’s in your hand, you don’t know how you should do it— The carotid should hopefully be quick. When you raised the knife, he rushed forward and grabbed your arm, yanking it away from you. 

“Stop!” You cried, pulling back against his hold, trying to wrench yourself free. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” He asked, beginning to raise his voice now. His grip on your arm tightened as his other hand tried to take the knife from you. When you let out a choked sob and started crying, your arm went slack and the force of him pulling it away from yourself made your hand fly toward him. He couldn’t stop it before the blade sliced the top of his chest, making you gasp as he winced. He released you and staggered back, and you dropped the knife as if it had burned you. 

“Oh god— fuck. Are you okay?” His hand was pressed tight to the wound so you couldn’t see how bad it was but the pain on his face was evident. When you moved toward him, he stepped back again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Even through the pain, his tone was still incredibly harsh. 

“I- I’m sorry. It was an accident.” You took another tentative step and he did the same, but his back met the wall. He leaned his weight against it and took a deep breath as his eyes fluttered shut. You quickly wiped your tears and tried to calm down long enough to think of what to do. 

As you examined him, you noticed the blood seeping through his fingers as his arm grew tired holding his hand tightly against the wound. You also noticed how pale and sweaty he got in that short amount of time. He was putting as much of his weight on the wall as he could now. 

Deciding to start with the imperative, you moved closer until you were in front of him and removed his hand to look at the wound, then put pressure on it. It wasn’t… that bad— it wouldn’t need stitches, but it still almost made you gag. He winced and opened his eyes as if to make sure he wasn’t just imagining you daring to come this close. 

“Get the fuck.. off…” His words slurred together and you could tell he was fighting to keep his eyes open. When his knees buckled, you tried to hide your distress, but that and the blood seeping through your fingers made it almost impossible to do so. 

“Okay.. okay, hang on.” You looked around for something to absorb the bleeding but there was nothing nearby other than a blanket that you haven’t washed recently. Tentatively releasing him, making sure he wouldn’t fall, you took your shirt off— feeling incredibly grateful that you decided to wear a bra— and pushed it against the wound. He let out a pained groan and your heart panged, knowing you were only worsening his suffering. “I know, I’m sorry. I have to press hard though.” He didn’t respond and just started sliding down the wall as his eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck.. fall on the couch, fall on the couch,” You held him up and guided him to the couch just as he lost consciousness. 

You could feel his chest moving under your hands so you knew he wasn’t dead, you were just worried about how to solve the malnutrition issue while he was unconscious. It’s not like you have an IV… so you’ll just have to wait until he’s awake. 

Lifting your shirt from his chest, you checked on the bleeding— it was definitely less, but it was still bleeding a decent amount. So you continued pushing down on it. While you waited, you let out a heavy breath and closed your eyes. That escalated so quickly, it felt like you’d been holding your breath since you picked up the knife. 

After a few minutes you checked again and decided it would be okay for you to run to the bathroom to grab a few things as well as some water and painkillers really quickly. When you returned, you kneeled on the couch next to him and tried to lift up the shirt he was wearing. Since it was yours, it was already a little tight on him, so it barely moved, especially because his back was against the couch. 

Minding the gash, you carefully took both sides of the now cut fabric and pulled as hard as you could. It ripped a lot easier than you were expecting though and was now torn from the collar to the bottom hem. You cleared your throat and tried to keep your eyes on the wound, but couldn’t help it when your eyes strayed to the exposed skin. You could distinctly see the outline of his sternum and ribs and you stifled a gasp as you pushed the shirt open more— no wonder he passed out, he looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. 

The sight of blood trailing down his chest snapped you out of your trance and you made quick work of using the damp washcloth to clean as much of the blood off as you could. When he wakes up, you’ll have him go to the bathroom so he can wash with soap and water, but for now you covered it with the largest bandaid you had, then sagged back into the couch with a heavy breath, just needing a second to calm down. 

After what felt like hours but was only about 15 minutes, he woke up with a groan. You grabbed the water bottle and took out three pills, having them ready for him. His eyes fluttered open, squinting at the bright light, and he scowled when he saw you next to him. 

“Take this.” You held it out to him and he looked down at his chest, then let his head fall back into the couch again as his eyes closed. “Please take it. It’ll help with the pain.”

“How did I get here?” He rasped, voice strained. 

“You passed out and I wanted you to fall here instead of the floor.” You wanted to reprimand him for not eating but you knew now wasn’t the time. It almost seemed like he wasn’t taking the painkillers out of spite, but after a moment, he huffed and held his hand out. You handed everything to him and he only drank enough water to take the pills. 

“You have to drink it. The whole reason you passed out is because of how malnourished you are.” You urged gently. 

“The whole reason I passed out is because you stabbed me.” 

“Jon, please just drink it.” You said, exacerbated. All he did was glare at you so you let out a disappointed sigh and stood up to go to the kitchen. He didn’t say anything as you started pulling things out and cooking. You weren’t exactly sure what the best option would be for malnutrition and blood loss, but you figured something with high protein and iron would be a good start. 

When you walked back over with a plate of grilled chicken breast and steamed spinach, he raised his brows as you held it out to him. You were pleased to see that while you were busy, he did drink some of the water. 

“What?” He asked, when you just waited for him to take it. 

“You need to eat. Clearly you don’t want to starve to death since you tried to stop me so just quit being so goddamn stubborn and eat the fucking food.” Your tone got significantly harsher by the end of the sentence and he almost seemed shocked. After a moment, he huffed, but took it from you anyway. You sat down next to him and tried to ignore how the smell of the chicken was roaring your stomach back to life. 

“After you finish eating, you should clean it with soap and water.” You said quietly. “I can help if you want.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“I haven’t used that knife in ages, it wasn’t exactly sterile. You need to clean it or it’ll get infected.” 

“I’ve had worse.” Now that you weren’t focused on the large gash, you could see a few scars on the exposed skin of his torso. 

“Fine.” You stood up and left to grab two clean washcloths, a bottle of soap, and a bowl that you filled with water. When you walked back over and set the items on the coffee table, he narrowed his eyes and scowled at you, watching you get down on your knees in front of him. You reached for the bandage and he circled your wrist in a bruising grip. So you moved your other hand forward and he did the same thing, but winced when the motion made his shoulder shift. “If you let me do this I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

“We’re not going to fucking play nurse. I can do it myself.” He spat. 

“I believe you. But I don’t believe that you actually will.” You challenged, making him roll his eyes with a scoff. “The quickest way to get rid of me is to let me do this.” He clenched his jaw and looked away from you for a moment, then released your wrists, letting you continue with your original plan of removing the bandage. When you ripped it off, he hissed in pain and you glanced at him nervously. “Sorry.” You said sheepishly. 

You hesitantly pushed the shirt open a little more, worried it would make him snap, but he just glared at you, letting you do it. Once you had enough room, you dipped the washcloth in the water then squirted some soap on it and worked it into the fabric. Getting up on your knees a little more, you shuffled closer, ignoring the feeling of his leg against your side— or… trying to, at least.

“I'm sorry again.” You said quietly as you started cleaning it. “I really didn’t mean for that to happen.” When you looked up at him, he was still watching you carefully, his guard fully up. “I’ll see if I can get something stronger for the pain when I go back to work.” You let your focus move back down to the task at him, trying not to blush under the heat of his gaze. 

“That’s illegal, you know.” He murmured, sounding uncharacteristically… neutral. 

“So is breaking out a criminal.” You countered. You didn’t really like talking about him like that though. Sure, he’s technically a criminal, but anyone failed that many times was bound to walk away without their sanity completely intact.

“You think I deserve to be in there?” He asked after a moment of silence. You couldn’t decipher his tone and you looked up at him again, his eyes a little softer now. 

“I don’t think anyone deserves to be in that hell hole.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Your hand slowed to a stop, resting against his chest. 

“I think… given your history, it would’ve been a miracle if you grew up “normal.’” You said quietly. “I think you deserve to be in there for the things you’ve done, but not just to be imprisoned, to get help.” 

“If you’re going to survive there, you need to learn this sooner rather than later; the people in there have no remorse for what they’ve done, and neither do I.” He warned. 

“I can’t let myself believe that.” 

“Those people don’t want to be saved. I mean seriously, did you think our little talk sessions would change me? Make me a better man?” He cooed mockingly, making you frown. 

“I hoped they’d help you work through your trauma. After that? I wouldn’t need to do much else.” He scoffed at that, all but rolling his eyes. 

“You think I don’t know how to identify the root of what made me so fucked up?” His voice was back to the viciousness that you’ve started getting used to. 

“No, I think you do know how to identify it. I just think you don’t know how to overcome it.” You said calmly, trying not to agitate him any further. 

“I do not need to be lectured about trauma by someone who would’ve been my subordinate.” He snapped. 

“I’m not lecturing you, Jon. And don’t you think there’s maybe a reason why you’re getting so defensive right now?” He clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose. 

“Fine. If you’re so interested in psychoanalysis, why don’t we talk about you then?” 

“That’s not what I’m doing,” 

“Your need for my praise and approval is almost pathetic.” He cut you off, making your mouth instantly close. “You’re so fucking desperate for it— Why do you think that is?” He tilted his head slightly and you swallowed the lump in your throat, barely able to look at him. “You break down at just the slightest amount of rejection. I mean for fucks sake- you literally tried to kill yourself because of it.” 

“Stop it, Jon.” You said quietly. 

“C’mon.. I’m sure you’ve heard of something that fits that description, even if it’s not an official disorder.” He said facetiously. “Personally, I think I’d just use the word “delusional.’” 

“That’s not what this is! I love you.” He raised his brows and gave you a knowing look, so you doubled down. “Being in love does not make me crazy.” 

“No, it doesn’t. But kidnapping someone and trying to kill yourself because you were rejected certainly does.” You paused and tried to control your expression so he didn’t know how much his words were affecting you. 

“I didn’t.. kidnap you. I got you out of there, like you wanted.” You said quietly. “And having you here is keeping you safe from being found and sent back to Arkham again.” He scoffed a disbelieving laugh and looked away from you. So you sighed and resumed cleaning the wound. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to help you sleep at night.” He muttered, making your frown deepen. You looked at him for another moment, then sighed and tried to finish cleaning quickly. 

Once you were done and another bandage was in place, you got up and headed toward your bedroom. You searched your closet for something he could wear, but the only thing you had that he’d be able to get into easily was a zip up hoodie. So you grabbed that and walked back out, which he clearly wasn’t pleased with since he probably thought you’d be gone longer. 

“Lean forward.” You said softly, sitting next to him to help put it on, making him scowl. 

“I can dress myself.” He spat and you sighed, but agreed, watching him struggle to get it on. Eventually, he succeeded and you leaned back on the couch when he continued eating, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t make him uncomfortable. “Are you planning on staying half nude?” Your entire face heated up when you realized you’ve yet to replace your shirt. You were just so anxious and upset that you didn’t even notice it. 

“N-no. Sorry.” Your voice cracked embarrassingly and you stood up to go grab a shirt from your room. He was on the last few bites of food when you walked back out. “Are you feeling any better?” 

“It fucking hurts.” He grumbled. You checked the time, seeing that it was already past seven. 

“I can try and go right now to get you something for the pain.” You suggested and he scoffed in response. 

“Do you want to lose your job?” That made you frown— you just wanted to help. “You stop by after hours for whatever reason and eventually they notice something’s missing and you think you won’t be made the primary suspect immediately?”  

“Okay, I get it.” You sighed. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to help.” You looked away from him as you thought of what else you could do. There aren’t any over the counter pain relievers that are any stronger than what you already gave him. “Wait,” You suddenly stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “I don’t know if you have a preference but either way it should help. It affects the central nervous system so the pain doesn’t seem as bad,”

“I know how it works, I’m not an idiot.” He snapped. “But you must be if you think I’ll willingly intoxicate myself around you.” Even though his words stung, you tried not to take it personally and just move on from the insult. 

“It’ll help, Jon.” 

“I don’t care.” You sighed, then walked back over and sat down again, keeping your eyes on your lap. You felt horrible. The only reason he’s in pain is because you were acting irrationally. 

“I know it won’t make it better, but I really am sorry.” You said quietly, chancing a glance at him. 

“I thought you promised to leave me alone if I let you play nurse.” He huffed. 

“Right. Okay, I’ll… I’ll go.” You cleared your throat and tried to hide your disappointment as you stood up. “If you want to shower, there are towels in the hall closet.” You offered. When he didn’t respond again, you sighed quietly and went to your room to leave him alone. 

You woke in the middle of the night and tried to go back to sleep since you had to be up for work in a few hours, but you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that something happened while you were asleep. Like the wound was infected and he was dead. 

That thought was a little extreme, but it was enough to get you out of bed to go check on him. He was asleep, laying on his back, and you moved closer to slowly unzip the jacket enough to see it. He hadn’t bled through the bandaid and you gently lifted a corner to see inside. Everything looked fine. At least you thought it did… You’re not that kind of doctor. 

When you zipped it back up, you couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, not angry or full of hatred. You wished he’d look like that all the time. 

Once you were satisfied knowing he wasn’t dead, you managed to fall back asleep. When you got up again, you somehow woke up fully after the first alarm so you were about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. You walked into the kitchen, still in your pajamas, and saw that he was awake this time. 

“Do you want some coffee? Actually,” you knew he wouldn’t answer it like that, “how do you take your coffee?” He scoffed a laugh and you couldn’t help but blush even though he was clearly laughing at you, not with you. 

“Black.” Was all he said, but it made you smile so big that it almost hurt your cheeks. It felt like you were finally getting somewhere with him. Walking over with two mugs, you handed one to him, then sat down, much to his displeasure. “Don’t you have to get ready?” 

“I woke up early.” You shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. “You need to eat and quite frankly I don’t have many options here so I’m going to stop somewhere after work. What do you want?”

“I’m fine.” He muttered, drinking the coffee and keeping his eyes straight ahead instead of on you. 

“That’s not what I asked.” You said firmly— you had no clue where this boldness was coming from. He looked over at you with raised brows, almost… impressed.. by your audacity. “There must be something you’ve been craving since being in there. Tell me what it is and I’ll get it.” He huffed but seemed to understand that the quickest way to get rid of you is to just answer. 

“There’s a Southern place in Otisburg, right across the street from the Botanical Gardens. I don’t have a preference, I like everything they have.” You smiled, happy that you finally got a real answer out of him. Even though it’s out of your way, you’re excited that he actually shared something with you and agreed to eat. 

“Perfect. I can stop by the store too. Do you want anything specific for breakfast or lunch?” 

“Eggs.” He said simply, almost making you laugh. 

“Eggs it is. Anything else?” 

“What you have here is fine.” At least that means he looked and considered eating. 

“Do you like the coffee? Or should I get a different one.” He huffed, clearly getting annoyed with your questions. 

“It's coffee.” 

“Well, I like blonde roast. I don’t know if you prefer dark roast or something.” You said defensively. He didn’t answer so you assumed that meant he didn’t care what kind of coffee you had. You checked the time and decided you could sit here for five more minutes before you should start getting ready. You didn’t want to bother him so you just stared out the window, smiling at the way the morning sun was peeking through the buildings. If you ignored the very obvious contempt he has for you, this moment could’ve been perfect. 

“Does it still hurt?” You asked, turning to face him and blushing when you noticed his eyes were already on you. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’d been caught though. 

“Not as much.” He finally looked away and took another drink. 

“Do you think you still need something stronger than what I have here?” 

“I’ll be fine.” His tone left no room for argument, but you could tell he wasn’t being truthful. 

“Okay…” You said, still unsure. “Can I just check it really quick? Then I’ll leave you alone and go get ready.” He let out an exasperated huff and rolled his eyes, annoyed by your concern. But once again, he seemed to understand that the fastest way to get rid of you was to just agree. 

“Fine.” He grumbled, leaning back on the couch. You set your mug on the coffee table and scooched closer to him, getting on your knees on the couch so you could fully face him. You slowly reached for the zipper as if approaching a wild animal that could attack at any moment. He didn’t say or do anything as you unzipped it and pushed it aside. You lifted half of the bandage and leaned closer to get a better look as your fingers delicately ran over the skin around it. 

“It looks like it’s scabbing.” You said absentmindedly. “So that’s good at least.” When you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed how close you’d gotten. You also noticed the way his eyes snapped up from your body to your face. You blushed, now hyper aware of the small, thin pajama set you were wearing. Clearing your throat, you quickly zipped up the hoodie again and leaned back. “It— Try to wash it today please.” He almost looked amused by your flustered state. “I… I should— I’m going to get ready now.” You quickly grabbed your mug and stood up, practically running to your room. 

Part 3

Again, sorry it’s cut a little awkwardly lol. This was written as a one shot.

Taglist (join here)

@cillianslvt @69your-best-night-mare69

[milaisreading]

HIIII i love ur posts!!

Can i request a tired or mentally drained and at one point she breaks down on front of the bllk boys and all of them start panicking or trying to comfort her? 😭😅

I've been tired cuz exam season ( >:p ) "and i wanna cry but i physically can't ( idk why? ) and i want some comfort sooooo.... yeah!

if u dont wanna its cool :)

byeeee❤️❤️

Author: I FEEL U! I have been feeling soo drained and useless ever since my exams finished. Literally can't even relax during this small break I got:// Anyways, I hope u like this! Thanks for the request🩷

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

On any normal day (Y/n) didn't mind the chaos the boys caused her, after all they were under a lot of pressure, so she let them unwind while cleaning up after them. But today was not one of those days. Ever since the preparations for the next Blue Lock phase started she felt like they were more and more chaotic, while she was losing herself more and more in all of her work. The whole week was just a whole mess for her, from running errands for Anri and Ego, to breaking up fights between the teammates, she just felt like giving up. Right now, she was enjoying some quiet time in the lunch hall, just drinking some tea while fighting back sleep.

"This morning was so tiring...." She winced while grabbing her stomach. This morning, Rin accidentally kicked the football past the goal, which ended up hitting (Y/n) in the stomach. This caused a loud argument between the captain, Isagi and Barou. (Y/n) tried to stop them, but the fussing coming from Aryu and Hiori stopped her. She was annoyed that they didn't let her handle the issue, instead Kurona and Yukimiya ended up dragging her toward the infirmary.

Next thing that happened was an hour after the first incident. Karasu and Otoya were practicing with Bachira and Aryu, (Y/n) was as usually sitting and taking down the stats of the 4. Nothing unusual. Until Bachira decided to goof around with the football and yell at (Y/n) to watch him do some tricks. She admitted, they were impressive, and she commented on how great they are. Her comments along with the impressed look on her face caused the other three to start doing the same. The problem was that there were 4 of them and (Y/n) would have to look every 2 seconds at a different player, which did make her dizzy. Ego had noticed the commotion and yelled at all 5 of them to get back to training.

The 3rd incident happened barely an hour ago at lunch time. (Y/n) was sitting with Gagamaru, Isagi and Chigiri during the time, and while talking with the 3, she didn't notice an argument between Kunigami and Nagi unfolding. Everyone knew that (Y/n) barely ever ate her dessert, it had too much protein, so she would always left it to one of the players to eat. The dessert was pretty much the highlight of their day and the team agreed on whoever got the most points for the day, will get the sweet treat. This arrangement worked for 2 months, but today was the first time that two players were tied in points.

Kunigami and Nagi were both known to be level headed and somewhat apathetic towards everything, except when it comes to their manager and her attention,  that's when both are pretty much irrational.

"I think you seem to misunderstood me, Nagi. I am getting it today." Kunigami said, sending a tight smile towards the albino.

"And you seemed to have misunderstood me, Kunigami. But that pudding is mine."

"Calm down, you two." Niko rolled his eyes, still mad that he lost this time.

(Y/n), blissfully unaware of that whole agreement, noticed Gagamaru staring at her dessert. Knowing she won't eat it anyways, she decided to give it to him.

"Here. I won't eat. Hope you like strawberry flavor." She said, handing the surprised Gagamaru her food.

Chigiri and Isagi gasped silently. They shortly sent the flustered goalie jealous glares before looking at Kunigami and Nagi, who were staring degers at Gagamaru.

"A-are you sure?" The boy asked as (Y/n) nodded her head, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Of course-"

"Gagamaru, you traitor!" The two flinched and looked in surprise at Nagi.

"Ha?" (Y/n) panicked a little as she saw Kunigami and Nagi glaring at the duo.

"Keep it down, you two." Reo rolled his eyes, earning a nod from Tokimitsu.

"M-maybe we should let Gagamaru have-"

"Shut it, Tokimitsu!" Kunigami and Nagi yelled and then started arguing with Gagamaru. It eventually spread across the whole lunch room, and (Y/n) started twitching a little. Nobody was listening to her as she tried to calm it down. Was it the exhaustion or pure desperation to shut everyone up, but (Y/n) eventually started crying silently. Lost in her own thoughts while crying, she wasn't paying attention to what the rest were saying.

"I am the fastest. The dessert is mine!" Chigiri earned a show from Aryu at that.

"You forget I was in the top3 and I am the one with the better hair."

"Oh, shut up you peasants! You all are beneath me and (Y/n), therefore the pudding is mine."

"Says who? You, Barou? You do not have the charm to be anywhere near (Y/n)."

"Otoya, you cheated on your girlfriends. What makes you think you are worthy?" Yukimiya sighed.

"And what about you, Yukimiya? You are so plain, there is no way she will fall for you. Now me on the other hand-"

"Oh, shut up Karasu. Your charms are below Antarctica's temperatures." Niko groaned.

"I think the cutest one of us should get the pudding. So me-"

"Bachira, that would be me. I am also the ace, so that's just a bonus." Isagi smiled, earning a glare from Rin

"Pipe it down, you two can barely pick up a 2nd language." The captain added in.

"English is hard." The two protested.

"I think the richest one should have a say in the dessert." Reo smirked, earning louder protests.

Tokimitsu shivered a little in fright and looked over at (Y/n), freezing for a moment as he saw her crying.

"What's up, Tokimitsu?" Hiori wondered, one of the few who decided not to argue. Kurona looked over to where Tokimitsu was looking, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw her crying too. He nudged Hiori.

"Look." Kurona said and the cyan-haired boy looked at (Y/n). He wasted no time and ran to her side, followed by Tokimitsu and Kurona.

"He-hey, don't take it to heart. They are stupid like that." Tokimitsu said as he patted the sobbing girl's back. Kurona and Hiori moved closer, both trying to calm her down, all three felt their hearts breaking as they watched her cry. The room grew slowly quiet too, as the rest looked at (Y/n) in concern and guilt.

"(Y/n)...." Chigiri gulped.

"It's just hard to keep up with you all. You keep arguing and destroying things at times... and it's just hard to keep up... I can usually take it, but I guess today isn't my day." A wave of guilt hit the team as they quickly scrambled for the right words. The last thing they wanted was for their (Y/n) to cry, or worse, contemplate on leaving them.

"Tokimitsu, go and take (Y/n) somewhere quiet to calm down. The rest of you stay here." Rin said, quickly getting unto his captain mode. The rest said nothing, deciding not to make things worse, and they watched with guilt and sadness as (Y/n) got dragged out by Tokimitsu.

"Alright, listen up." Rin spoke up, causing the rest to look at him.

"We need to pull our shit together, unless we want (Y/n) to leave and for some other manager to replace her. The team pretty much shuddered at the idea, there was no way someone will replace her!

"So, what's your idea, captain?" Barou wondered.

"I will tell you, but first... Reo, I need you to do some calls." The billionaire heir raised his eyebrow and slowly nodded his head.

And soo, that was what had happened. (Y/n) ended up crying for about 30 minutes as Tokimitsu stayed around, just in case. The boy was collected and calm, no sign of his previous fidgety demeanor. After she calmed down, she apologized to Tokimitsu for inconveniencing him, but the boy didn't mind.

"If you feel down again, don't be afraid to tell us. We will listen." The boy said with a smile, which calmed her down a lot.

After lunch, she went back to her normal duties, helping the other staff members and the team out. To her surprise, they didn't cause any ruckus, they were calm and friendly. Even Rin, Isagi and Barou stayed away from arguing with each other. Unbeknownst to her, whenever a staff member tried to scold her, Karasu, Aryu and Nagi would send them warning glares. They alone caused them to back off quickly. All in all, the day went pretty well, and (Y/n) felt a lot lighter now. She slowly walked into her bedroom, and stopped at the entrance as she noticed a box on her bed. Slowly walking towards it, she looked at the note on the box and slowly started reading it. (Y/n)'s eyes widened a little as she read it through, realizing that the team sent her this, and her heart melted at the apology they wrote out.

'They are chaotic... but I love them like that.' She smiled and slowly opened the box, only to find various treats that she could only buy outside of Blue Lock's facility, she even got a small (f/c) bear.

'They probably made Reo get this...' She chuckled and plopped on the bed, hugging the bear close to herself.

'I will make it up to them... maybe Teieri-san can help me get them some small gift next week.' She thought, slowly falling asleep.

[brights-place]

Omen dating Headcannons

Pairings: Omen X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Anxiety, Angst

A/N: GOSH I LOVE OMEN HE IS SO CUTEEE

- He knits to relax! So he would knit you some things for exammle sweaters, scarves, and plushies for surprises! one time he made you an scarf for icebox that were his color scheme which you love - His love language is Physical touch and Quality time - He tries his best to make every single second with you count - He is amazing at baking, would bake some sweets for you - When your relationship grew and you both got more comfortable with each other Omen would be more open about PDA. - He hides in the shadows and appears behind you whispering an "Boo" in his montone voice as you screamed (like finn from adventure time) - This man doesn't need to sleep! he's a phantom for fuck sakes but you still force him into bed to cuddle - He’s quiet like REALLY QUIET! but will do his best to give you advice when you need it - He might not talk much at first but he will make sure you know that he’s there for you - Man is so fucking gentle towards you it isn't funny it's so cute - Omen is VERY protective of you I mean come on! He’s already protective of his fellow agents and it’s only doubled when it comes to you! - He would scare away any threats that dare try and intimidate or even hurt you! He has no problem killing for you if he has to - if you get an graze from an enemy this man would go wild! He doesn’t need the physical protection from you but he does like the comfort to know that you’re just as committed as he is in portecting eachother! - he hates crowded places so he would go behind your back pressing his chest against it which was one of his ways of saying 'I don't feel comfortable' - Tried to teach you how to knit !! it was fun at first but then you gto stuck... You mentally and physically wanted to scream since you snapped the tip of the needle (I have doe it before and my Lola stared me down... Angry Filipino grandmothers are scary!) - If you both succeed on knitting it becomes his favorite time of the day is to knit with you. he's very proud of your progress after you learn pretty much everything from him - When phoenix pointed it out he went to tell him it relaxes him but he glances at you on the team as you giggle lightly - On a mission he saw another him... "There is another of me? How many times did I get ripped apart? How many times did I die?" omen gripped onto his gun as you placed an hand on his forearm giving him an pitiful look as he sighs - Omens to make sure you don't mess anything up because one of his hobbies is cleaning but he doesn't want to clean up any of your messes sometimes... cause if your like an party animal he would be drained - In my opinion he is not really shy you could say? he is simply overwhelmed by the presence of other people - yeah it's known Omen has a very strong case of amnesia like REALLY BAD! He can't remember his true self... - When he trains you stare at him biting your lip - If you show him affection randomly he keeps his composure since he isn't really one to show his emotions outwardly 

- It seems like he doesn't really care when you show him affection but he does thank you and the is just some sort of tenderness in his voice. He could become embarrassed if you kiss him and then also give him a lot of praise for doing so well 

- If you know him well enough though you would be able to hear the embarrassment in his voice everytime if you show affection or other agents do something nice for him - You and Viper made a pack - You both would help Omen regain his memories... or so you thought. - When he gained some of his memories back he was filled wiht rage yet kept his composure but yelled at Viper - Sage stared at you dead in your eyes when you would be eyeing your boyfriend "(Name) your boyfriend is a phantom" Sage said teasingly as you shushed your healer "SHHHH! I know! but he is handsome!" Sage laughs at you - omen is an amazing partner and loves you with his whole heart as long as he is with you he feels safe

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[florence-end]

Damsel in distress

Azriel x reader (use of Y/N a couple of times)

Warnings: a little bit suggestive at the end but nothing major

Summary: Rhys and Cassian have been training you to fight and control your powers. They decide to kidnap your mate as a little extra incentive.

You were so so tired. Spending your mornings training with Cassian and your afternoons training with Rhys was more draining than you could have ever predicted when you agreed to letting them help you hone your power, and your lack of progress was really starting to get you down.

Your power was linked to the passage of time; you could slow down everyone around you or make yourself so much faster than them that they couldn’t see you moving. Of course this would be so valuable in a fight… if you could use it. So while Cassian has been teaching you how to fight and strategize physically, Rhys has been teaching you to control your power mentally and manipulate it to your will. You were slowly improving but it’s exhausting and you just wanted one quiet night in with your mate.

Azriel isn’t allowed to partake in your training anymore after Cassian arrived at the training ring to find you both springing apart, hair messy and fresh hickeys on your neck. Rhys was equally displeased when you couldn’t concentrate on his training that afternoon with the memories of your morning with Az still fresh in your mind. The forced separation during the day made your evenings together more precious and you intended to enjoy it.

You and Azriel were curled up together in the library, books open in your hands and steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table in front of you. Your legs were resting across his lap, his thumb rubbing little circles on your knee and your head leaning against his shoulder as you embraced the peace.

The short-lived peace.

In the blink of an eye, Rhysand appeared behind Azriel, making you jump back in surprise. As soon as you were no longer touching your mate, Rhys grabbed his arm and winnowed them both away without a word. You caught a glimpse of the mischievous glimmer in the high lord’s eyes and your mate’s perturbed expression as they disappeared, and were unsurprised to see a note float down to your lap a moment later.

If you want your mate back, you’ll have to fight for him.

Although the magic was Rhys’, the handwriting was Cassian’s messy scrawl so you knew he was in on whatever plan had been hatched. There was no way Rhys would encourage fighting anywhere in the House of Wind other than the training ring, so you hauled yourself up and quickly ascended the stairs that took you up through the house.

As you emerged into the training area, you immediately clocked your mate crudely chained to a chair on the other side of the ring looking equally annoyed and amused. The chains were clearly not locked around him, and although he sent an affectionate tug through your bond when you entered, he didn’t say anything out loud.

Rhys and Cassian stood between you and Azriel in the centre of the training ring, grinning like Cheshire cats. You glanced around to see Feyre and Nesta sat to the sides. “Sorry Y/N, we tried to tell them to leave you alone but you know how they are,” your high lady shrugged apologetically.

“What is going on? You know he can just escape from that, right?” You directed your question to the smug males, gesturing to your bound mate.

“Ah my dear Y/N, he cannot. At our last poker night, I won an unspecified favour from my brother. I’m sure you noticed the new vow brand on his shoulder. I’m calling in said favour tonight, and Azriel is not to speak or stand from his chair until you beat both of us and rescue him,” explained Rhys.

“Rhys,” you whined, stomping your foot like a toddler. “I’m tired and it’s my night off. You already don’t let me see him during the day, you can’t take my evenings too.”

“You’d better save him quickly then kiddo. Let’s see what you’ve got,” Cassian stretched his arms above his head as he settled into a fighting stance. Rhys followed suit.

Sighing, you stepped into the ring.

Az is in danger. I need to save Az. He needs me.

You repeated this over and over again in your mind, willing your power to come to the surface. The two illyrians were beginning to circle you now, preparing to attack, but you couldn’t even muster enough power to slow down a leaf falling from a tree.

Cassian strikes, knocking you to the floor before you could defend yourself. You rolled away from him, springing back to your feet. The girls shouted their disapproval of the rough treatment but you knew Cassian was pulling his punches to avoid any real damage.

The males moved towards you again as you continued to scramble for any tangible magic within your body.

Rhys attacks this time, feinting to one side before whipping around you and pulling your back into his chest, one arm around your neck.

“Come on Y/N, what are you going to do when poor Azzy is really in danger? Are you going to leave him chained in a Hybern dungeon?” You knew he was only taunting to motivate you, but it was working. You could feel your power swirling in your chest and threw your weight forward to free yourself from his grip. Azriel tried to send soothing comfort down the bond to assure you that he wasn’t actually in danger but you slammed up your mental shields to concentrate on your magic.

This time, when Rhys and Cassian lunged at you, you stopped them. They continued to move at a fraction of the speed, and you used your opportunity to swipe their legs out from under them. They caught back up to normal speed as they hit the floor. The girls cheered, and you grinned at their sprawled forms through your gasps for breath as your power drained more of your remaining energy.

The males jumped back to their feet, on the defensive now but you had found your stride. Channeling the magic on yourself this time, you sprinted circles around the Illyrians, moving so fast they could hardly see you. At first, you didn’t attack and instead opted to tire them out as Cassian had taught you. You’d run toward them, feint to the side, and retreat only to attack again. Once, you ran toward Feyre and Nesta, just to show the once-smug warriors that you could reciprocate their actions and take their mates if you wanted. Finally, once sweat dripped from every pore on their faces and you could feel your magic dwindling fast, you pounced on Cassian’s back, pulling him to the ground. Before he could recover, you flipped Rhys into the air, ensuring he landed on top of his brother in a heap. Slowing down your unnatural speed, you looked down on the pile of Illyrian limbs and wings and rested your foot on Rhys’ back in triumph.

“That was so hot!” called Nesta from her seat, glass of wine in hand. She ignored her mate’s protest from underneath the high lord.

“Do you yield?” you asked smugly. The groans from the brothers was agreement enough.

You skipped across the ring to the chair that still held your mate. Pride and love and lust glowed in his eyes and you winked at him as you approached.

“Hey princess, need some help?” you teased as you pulled the chains from his arms and torso.

Az growled, immediately snaking his liberated hands around your waist. “It would be worth getting captured by Hybern if you come to rescue me like that,” he whispered. You giggled and tangled your fingers in his hair.

You could hear the sounds of Feyre and Nesta helping their mates stand up behind you. Despite their groaning, you could hear the pride in their voices as they shouted for you and Az to come down to the balcony for a celebratory drink but you both ignored them.

“Az? Y/N? Come on, let’s go!” Cassian demanded as Nesta fixed his messy bun.

Without looking towards his brothers, Azriel tugged you to straddle his lap and slid his hands down to your ass. You let out a quiet whimper.

“No guys, you know the rule! Not in the training ring!” The General complained as he realised Azriel’s plan for revenge.

Your mate began kissing up your throat to your jawline, making your squirm on his lap.

“Azriel, behave yourself!” demanded the high lord, trying to maintain some of his authority but you could hear the amusement in his voice as Cassian continued to whine.

You finally met Azriel’s lips with your own, feeling his smirk matching yours. Feyre and Nesta whistled as they dragged their complaining Illyrian babies back into the house. You felt Feyre’s whisper of approval against your mental shields and the door swung shut just as Azriel lay you down in the centre of the training ring with only the stars above you.

I hope you enjoyed reading! All feedback is welcome💕

[yamujiburo]

I'd like to join the kind words dogpile that seems to be happening and thus! I've been following your art stuff for a long time and have always gotten HUGE enjoyment out of it. I've loved every moment of your hanamusa comics from the get-go!

I love that weight gain is shown as a sign not just of health but of HEALING with Jessie's character, something not just to be accepted but actively celebrated. Because she is safer, stabler, better cared for. I love equally that James and Meowth are a part of that, both as Jessie's friends, for her recovery, and for their own separate paths forward. It's all just a wonderful cartoon villain redemption story, right up my alley.

Additionally, within the past year, year and a half range, I've slowly started drawing again. For most of my life I drew for at least a while every single day. I was never not dreaming up stories and there's still nothing I love more than sharing the little worlds inside my head, but things were pretty rough and unstable for my family for a couple of years and its impact on my mental and physical health led to my ceasing to draw almost entirely for those couple of years.

Having the energy and luxury to pursue art again has been a healing step and I'm slowly getting back into a groove of trying to sketch a bit daily. I'm having to relearn a lot of things that used to feel almost as natural as breathing, so it's often as draining and frustrating as it is cathartic and fun.

It's been so long since I did much of anything with my own ideas and stories that I often feel tapped out on creative fuel, but following the hanamusa arc and seeing how much joy other people take in it- and most importantly that you take in it and in sharing it- have helped revive a lot of love and inspiration for my own takes on the Ketchum family and my still intense and deep love of the anime series. My portrayals and such are wildly different from the adventure of hanamusa, but I love them both and have been grateful for the courage and persistence the presence of your art and writing have lent me. So you have my sincere thanks for simply Being, and for sharing of yourself and your ideas!

I know you doubtlessly get a LOT of messages every single day, so I hope you'll not feel a need to reply to this one because there is no need at all. If and when you have a chance to read this, I do hope it brightens your day a bit, like jessie. ash and delia always brighten mine. Be well, and I hope this coming year will be full of positive experiences for you!

aw thank you, i really appreciate it! (and thank you to everyone else who's been sending nice asks)

it makes me happy to hear you've been able to start drawing again! drawing and sharing my art makes me feel so at peace and happy and i only hope it makes anyone else who does art feel the same

best of luck with all your art making endeavors!

[its-time-to-write]

your mind is not your friend

HUGE shoutout to @whimsical-roasting for being an absolute babe and helping me out of my writing slump. Been feeling like I’m just churning out the same story over and over, but she gave me a prompt that absolutely knocked it out of the park! This actually contains chunks of text from our conversation, she was so helpful. Literally could not have written it without her, so be sure to check out her page and see what she’s got going on.

your mind is not your friend

It’s 2:30am on the dot, and you’re in your car, staring at the steering wheel. How did I get here? you ask yourself, rhetorically. You know exactly how you got to be in this driveway at this god-awful time in the morning.

You had been awake two hours ago, and sent a u up? text to a somewhat-friend you met at a bar a couple weeks ago. He was attracted to you, you needed to blow off steam, and thus your relationship began. “Relationship,” being used in the most technical sense of the term.

Pretty much all you did was hit each other up for sex, but that was kind of the whole point. You had no feelings for him, he didn’t have any for you, so you were in a mutually beneficial friends-with-benefits type situation. No strings attached.

The sex wasn’t bad, it was actually pretty good, especially if it was dark enough and you were feeling delusional enough to convince yourself he was someone else. On occasion you’d have to bite back a moan with the wrong name on your lips, but you’re pretty sure this guy wouldn’t have noticed.

But here you are, at 2:30 in the fucking morning, feeling strangely empty.

As you pull out of his driveway, you promise yourself this is your last hookup with this dude.

You can’t bring yourself to have another night like tonight.

It’s weird. You feel weird. You’re too aware of your arms and legs, and the night lighting isn’t helping anything. There’s barely anyone on the road, and you can’t bring yourself to turn on any music. 

You’re just tired because god, the sex was good, sure, but it was emotionless. He didn’t match your energy nor your affection, and it felt physically draining.

You’re not even sure where you’re driving but you’re sure as hell not going home right now. You pull your car to the side of the road under a streetlight and just sit.

After a few minutes, you pull out your phone and toy with it for a second, then think fuck it and call Jamie. You’re pretty sure it’s too early for him to be awake for training, but you never know until you try, right?

Right. 

He picks up on the first ring. “Yeah, love?” he says by way of greeting, voice thick with sleep. 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” you ask. “I wasn’t sure what time you woke up and I’m having a shit night, so I thought I’d just check to see if you were up. You can go back to sleep.”

“Not asleep,” Jamie yawns. “Been up for a bit. You alright?”

You pause. There’s something about Jamie’s voice that’s bringing tears to your eyes. 

“Darling?” he asks softly, “You still there?”

You nod, then remember he can’t see you. “Yeah, I’m still here.” You can’t erase the tears from your voice. 

You can hear Jamie turn a light on somewhere in his house. The mental image of him padding around that big empty house calms you somewhat. 

“It’s just-” you start then stop. 

“Hm?” Jamie hums, encouraging you on. 

“I don’t wanna get into it, but he didn’t even make me feel desirable. The entire night he was like ‘Yeah, sure, whatever. Fine, let's get it over with,’ and I felt like a pity fuck even if we didn't go all the way. And I’m just- just tired,” you finish lamely. 

All you get back is silence. 

“Jamie?” you say, half-pleadingly, desperation tingeing your voice. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here. Come to mine, yeah? I’ll unlock the door, so just walk in.” His voice sounds thick again, almost like he’s crying, but you chalk it up to the early hour and start your car again. 

—

You’re at Jamie’s house in no time at all, walking up the steps through the doorway and into his arms. You can’t even cry at this point, because it just feels like too much work.

“D’you want a shower?” Jamie asks, chin on top of your head. “I already pulled out some clothes for you, and I can throw these in the laundry. They’ll be a little big, but,” he shrugs, arms still around you. 

You tilt your head up and nod, no energy for words. He says “Alright then. You know where you’re going,” so you make your way up the stairs.

“Gonna make some food,” he calls after you, “You know I fuckin’ hate eating alone, so you have to eat some too.”

—

After a long, long hot shower, you’re in Jamie’s clothes and headed back downstairs. Your skin feels raw from where you scrubbed it, but you’re starting to feel more like yourself. As you walk into the kitchen, Jamie looks up from where he’s making grilled cheese on the stove.

He asks, “How you feeling, love?”

Love. Darling. God, his pet names are going to kill you. You’re not sure why you thought this was a good idea.

You’ve been in love with Jamie Tartt for, like, ever. He was just so funny and so sweet and so goddamned sexy. 

You are positive you have no chance with him, given his dating history. He’s not really one for commitment. You figure if he were interested, he would have made a move by now, but he’s comfortable where you are, just being friends.

You’ve been doing your best to erase all feelings from your body, hence: casual sex. 

It was working out great for you in all respects, obviously.

But, to answer Jamie’s question, you just shrug. He seems to pick up on the I can’t speak vibe, so he tilts his head at you, lower lip sticking out in sympathy.

“Right,” he says, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich on a plate, “take this and go sit over there.” He points to the couch. “You want anythin’ to drink?”

You shrug again, so Jamie goes to the fridge and pulls out two bottles of water. He grabs his own plate and you follow him to the couch.

He sits down first and pats the space right next to him, so you sink into the cushion. He adjusts so you’re curled into his right side, arm slung around you.

You eat in silence, and you can feel yourself slowly floating back into your body. It’s funny, really, because you hadn’t realized you were detached. 

The sandwiches are long gone, and you’re feeling more like talking, all wrapped up in Jamie’s too-large hoodie and sweatpants. Your face is the only thing that’s been visible this whole time, hood pulled up. Jamie’s hand has been running a comforting pattern up and down your arm, and it hits you that sitting on the couch with Jamie feels more affectionate than literally kissing a man who was like a damp board of plywood essential.

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie looks at you in surprise. “How d’you mean, love?”

You return his gaze, teary-eyed. “You have training and shit soon, and you’re supposed to be getting rest. I know you lied about me not waking you up. And I shouldn’t’ve bothered you. It’s my problem and my fault that I even feel like this.” You stare at the empty plates on the coffee table in front of you. “God, I don’t know… maybe I’m too affectionate. Like, I was kissing all over his face and he barely even did anything back. I know it’s just sex and not a relationship. I don’t even want him that way. But it just feels like it fucking sucked my soul out of me.”

You feel Jamie shift slightly, and you catch the tail end of what you think is- a wince?

It just makes you feel worse. “I felt undesirable and I KNOW I didn't look it tonight. I looked desirable as fuck. But he kept on being like 'yeah, sure, whatever spread your legs.’ And I want to be wanted, you know.. like, crave me like it's a not a chore.” Your shoulders slump as Jamie sucks in a breath. His hand, which has maintained a steady pace on your arm, is erratic now. You misinterpret the wince and the breath and keep going.

“Look, I know that you… you know, you’ve had sex with a lot more people that I have. I’ve been with like, three, including this guy. I know that I messed up, it’s just- I don’t want to feel cheap, you know?”

You can’t look at Jamie. You’re not sure that you can bear him explaining how you’ve breached some innocuous rule of casual sex. You can feel his eyes burning a hole through the hoodie. You didn’t realize you were using it as protection until you felt like you lost it.

You force yourself not to cry, and determine to pokerface your way through whatever Jamie has to tell you. He slides off the couch until he’s on the floor in front of you reaching for your hands.

“That fucking bag of dicks don’t deserve you,” he says, with such feeling that you’re sure you misheard him. You just keep staring past him at that empty plate.

“Oi, did you hear me?” Jamie says bringing up one hand to gently pinch your chin. “He don’t. Any man that makes you feel this shitty about yourself, especially after spendin’ the night with you, is a fucking piece of shit.” He squeezes your hand. “That arsehole has no fucking idea what he let slip away.”

His words are so far from what you expected that you’re having trouble registering them.

You let out a hoarse, “What are you saying,” and Jamie chuckles ruefully.

“I’m saying- shit. This is a shit time to be telling ya, but fuck it.” He takes a breath. “I really fucking like you. I think you’re fucking great. I’ve hated hearing you talk about that arsehole since the first time you fucking went home with him. Told meself that it should’ve been me you were goin’ home with, not that prick. I love when you’re affectionate. You know, when you fucking… hug me too hard ‘cause you’re excited bout somethin’ or kiss me forehead before leaving. But I didn’t want to fuck up what we already have going, so I didn’t fucking say anything. I should’ve said something a million fucking times, but I’m saying it now. It ain’t your fault. It’s that prick’s fault for making you feel fucking disgusting about the best part of you.”

You’re not starting at the plate anymore. You’re staring at Jamie’s face, and his pleading eyes, and you feel your soul reconnect to your body. You slide off the couch and into his arms, both of you on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table. He holds you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to earth when, in reality, you think it just might be the other way around. 

Jamie wraps one arm extra tight around your waist and heaves you two off the floor. 

“C’mon,” he says, voice muffled from his face buried in your neck, “we’re going the fuck to sleep.”

“You have training,” you remind him into his hair. 

“Nah,” he says, beginning to walk you to the stairs. “Told Coach I was sick right after you hung up.”

“Oh,” you say in a small voice. You can feel him smiling against your skin. 

“Right,” Jamie says. “I’m done fucking talking. Let’s get some proper sleep, yeah?” 

You nod, and he takes you all the way upstairs into his room. It’s the second time within four hours that your in another man’s bed, but this time feels different. This time is checking all the boxes you were looking for, and this time, you have the one you want.