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#not a ‘leave me alone I want to be away from you’ reason
moviestarmartini · 3 days
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yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader
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él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.
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summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?
wc: 975
warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.
A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.
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now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta
The fight was stupid, really. 
You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment. 
After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday. 
Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander. 
If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off. 
You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was. 
For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears. 
You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more. 
To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing. 
“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation. 
That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder. 
Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.
And you wondered if you would ever be again. 
The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship. 
Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory. 
[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ] 
[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ] 
You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi. 
“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied. 
He hadn’t even read it. 
Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home. 
You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe. 
“I’m sorry.” 
Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies. 
Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this. 
Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you. 
“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs. 
“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly. 
“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been. 
“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly. 
“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting. 
“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug. 
“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.” 
Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.
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A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip
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Note
Can I request #94 ☁️ with Jack Hughes?
For some reason this prompt was really hard for me to write. Everything my brain was coming up was super dark, so I hope you like this nonnie. Also I hope you don't mind I changed "they" to "someone"
Drabble Masterlist
"Did they hurt you?"
When you walked into the club, all you wanted to do was have a few drinks with your friends and dance the night away. All you wanted was a few hours disconnected from the world to forget about the stress of the week and the stupid fight you got in with your boyfriend Jack. Instead, you somehow lost your friends in the crowd on the dance floor. Suddenly alone and a little drunk despite only having a few drinks. All you could feel is your quickened heartbeat as you tried to push your way through the crowd. The club had way too many people and suddenly you regretted even leaving your little apartment. You were craving air, somehow you were pushed to the ground in the mush-pit that was the dance floor. Finally crawling back up, you turned your body and pushed yourself through the crowd.
It took you until you were outside to realize that your fishnet stockings were ripped in multiple places, your makeup was smudged from the sweat of being inside the hot club and your hands were covered in little cuts from people stepping on your hands. Standing outside you could feel the crispy cold air from the beginning of fall in New Jersey. Without even thinking you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber to the one place you felt most safe.
Jack opened the door in shock to see you. Usually when you both had a fight you at least let each other cool off for a night. But once he took in your appearance, your slightly ripped clothes, the dried blood on your hands, the way you weren't breathing evenly his stomach dropped as he pulled you into his arms. He slightly kicked the door shut with his foot as he held you in the small entry of his apartment. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around your body, you clenched onto his t-shirt with your hands and fell into him as you sobbed. Your emotions from being intoxicated plus almost having a small anxiety attack in the club.
Without even thinking picked you up, automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist. One of his arms moving to pet your messy hair as he cooed in your ear. "shh baby, shh it's alright baby. your safe baby. promise." His promise making you cry a little harder maybe out of relief for knowing it's true. With your eyes closed and your head tucked into Jack's neck you didn't even know where he was carrying you until you felt him try to put you down.
"no. no. no" speaking for the first time since you got here. Jack held you tighter trying to reassure you that you were okay.
"baby I'm just gonna let you sit on the sink in the bathroom. I'm gonna wash your makeup off okay, and I wanna clean your hands." he whispered to you softly. Slowly you let Jack sit you down on the end of his sink, still standing between your legs. He reaches behind you in the cabinet next to the mirror and grabs his first aid kit and your makeup wipes he keeps in stock for you. Finally getting a good at your hands his jaw locks suddenly feel anger form in the pit of his stomach. "honey" he cooed at you, lightly grabbing one of your hands and you winced. "Did someone hurt you?" All you could do is nod looking down at your own hands. "Who?" he asked sharply, without a doubt thinking of ways to hunt them down in the moment.
"I got pushed to the ground somehow at the club." you admitted shyly suddenly embarrassed about being pushed around so easily. Jack grabbed an alcohol wipe and started lightly cleaning your hands.
"That's not okay." he said bitterly. "Where were your friends?" Even though he sounded bitter, his touch was soft as he was focused on cleaning your hand and then putting Neosporin on it.
"lost them in the crowd."
Finishing with that hand, he moved on to the next without saying a word. Then he threw away all the trash from cleaning your hands and pulled out a makeup wipe. He still hadn't spoken but you didn't need him to, just the fact that he was the one cleaning you up made you feel better. His eyebrows were creased focusing on getting your stubborn makeup off without having to put too much pressure on your face. His tongue slightly sticking out as he grabbed another makeup wipe, you closed your eyes your body relaxing to the feeling.
"baby?" Jack asked softly.
"hmm"
"Gotta make sure you don't have any other cuts. Do you wanna change here or in my room?" He asked his arms softly wrapping around you as you felt yourself craving sleep.
"bed. I wanna go to bed." you whined. Jack lightly chuckled. He carried you to his bed lightly sitting you down, without hesitation you flopped onto the bed.
"Oh no you don't" Jack said as he took your arm to pull you back up to sitting.
"I wanna go to bed." you complained again.
"And we can once you change." he reasoned.
"too tired you do it." you mumbled too tired to even open your eyes.
"okay honey if that's what you want." lightly kissing your forehead before letting you lay down on the bed, your legs hanging off the edge as Jack got you one of his t-shirts and boxers to change into. You could feel Jack struggling trying to change you but you couldn't bring yourself to change. He found another deep cut on your knee and cleaned it without you even twitching. He knew you were deep in sleep by now.
Finally he cleaned everything up and climbed into bed with you. He pulled you close to him and you slightly moved to form around his body. He didn't know if you were awake or not but he still kissed your forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't there tonight." he whispered not expecting you to answer.
"It's okay. You cleaned me up and your here now that's more important." you mumbled wrapping your arms around Jack tighter and slipping back into unconsciousness.
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tradgedyinwaves · 2 days
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tw: emotional neglect, military inaccuracies, one sided relationship, sex, cursing, not necessarily unwanted sex, but not encouraged
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You told him.
Over and over.
If he didn’t stop treating you like a maid and fuck buddy, you were done.
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“Simon, you didn’t do the dishes like I asked and now I have to do them before I can get started on dinner,” you chastise, moving dishes around so you can get them done. His team was coming over for dinner that night, but he’d made no move to help you.
“Ah, I forgot. ‘M sorry,” he called from the couch, eyes still glued to the game flashing across the screen. You huffed and got to work, mentally creating a list of everything that would need done before the guys arrived in…four hours. Great, you had to shower too. 
Only once you’d finished the dinner and were getting into the shower, did Simon finally rise from the couch. He pushed his way in, joining you in the shower. His massive hands found your hips before sliding between your legs, searching for the little bundle of nerves.
Oh, now he wanted to pay attention to you? “Come on, luvie. Let me feel your tight cunt on my cock. I know how much you love my cock,” Simon grunted against your ear, his fingers dancing over the most intimate parts of you. And you let him.
Let him take what he wants because at least, he’s paying attention to you, right? You sigh as he slides into you, feeling the familiar burn and stretch. It’s quick and dirty. He pulls out to shoot his seed between your legs and down the drain. You don’t finish and climb out of the shower to let him finish in peace. 
You stand in front of your closet, opting for a black dress that flaunts your curves but still allows you comfort. Stepping out of the bathroom, fully nude as he uses a towel to dry his hair, he grunts when he glances at you but makes no effort to compliment or even really look at you. 
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“I thought I asked you to do the laundry. You know I have that court marshal and Price will have my head if I don’t look presentable,” Simon rants from the bedroom, looking for the ONE button up he owns that he wore earlier in the week to a meeting with some big wigs that the higher ups wanted them to meet. 
The issue was that you were currently bedridden and unable to leave the bed for more than a few minutes to use the restroom or grab food. You’d been laid up with a case of pneumonia that led to bronchitis, making breathing difficult, let alone doing your boyfriend’s laundry. 
You didn’t answer him, rolling away from the closet and curling into yourself. He’d not even been taking care of you, citing that he couldn’t afford to get sick. What if he needed to be deployed, but he was stuck in bed because he was taking care of you? His reasoning was fair, but you were his girlfriend. Shouldn’t he be more worried about getting you well?
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It was Simon’s last night home before being sent on a mission. You weren’t privy to where he was going or how long he’d be gone, but that was normal. Something you’d adjusted to when you started dating the man. 
Normally, he’d at least stay home with you the night before. Maybe a movie or something before he’d fuck you into the mattress for three minutes, leaving you unsatisfied. But he tried right? 
This time though, he was throwing his leather jacket on and grabbing the keys to his bike. “You’re seriously going out with the guys you’re shipping out with instead of staying home with me?” you cried, tears slipping down your cheeks as you finally broke from the quiet ways he neglected you. 
“Sorry. They wanted to have a good night of drinking before we’re forced to be sober for weeks on end,” he reasoned, barely even giving you a glance before coming over to kiss the top of your head then disappear out the door. 
The door clicked shut and you heard the key turn in the lock. 
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When Simon returned two months later to an empty flat and all of your things missing, he was stunned. Finding the note and your copy of the flat key laying on the coffee table had him collapsing on the couch as he stared at the two sentence note you'd left. He’d taken you for granted for too long, neglected you when you deserved the world. 7 words to shatter his world.
“Don’t come looking for me. I’m done.” 
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madhatterbri · 2 days
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Opportunity | D.P.
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Summary: Reader and Damian are friends and are basically in love, but they don't know it. Damian sees Reader getting harassed by an ex or a fan or whatever and tries to defuse the situation, but ends up beating the guy up lol smut and confessions of love follow soon after?
Author's Note: Happy Monday Night RAW, babes. 🫶
Damian Priest Masterlist
Requested by @eringobragh420
Taglist: @theworldofotps @mrsarcherofinfamy @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @terrortwinunicorn @magicalbuttertarts @new-zealand-chic @smallestsnarkestgirl
"I don't know, man. We just always have something going on and never seem to take us to the next step," Damian sighed. He was out drinking with some friends. It was true. Now that he and Y/N were single, he thought they would finally take their friendship to the next level. She seemed scared when he asked her about it. The wrestler never dreamed about the reasoning behind her rejecting him.
The archer of infamy was worried when she didn't answer his calls. He could count all the times she didn't answer on one hand. Y/N had told him days ago that she was still dealing with the mess. Once she didn't answer his text or call again, he went outside.
Y/N backed into her car. Her ex stood in front of her. His arms on both sides of her trapped her between himself and the car. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked away. The smell of alcohol lingered on his breath. He wouldn't leave her alone. She thought of Damian. Her beacon of light in a world full of darkness.
"You're never going to get rid of me," he threatened. "I will always be watching you,"
Her ex-boyfriend was suddenly pulled off of her. She watched in awe as her best friend, Damian, beat the crap out of him. When her ex started to lose consciousness, Y/N pulled him off of her. The angered man rubbed his black hair.
"How long has he been harassing you, huh? Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded. His heart broke when he saw her shrink back. The look of hurt and betrayal in her eyes burned in his skull. Damian took a deep breath and apologized.
"I'm sorry. Let me take you to my place. We will get your car in the morning,"
The drive was painfully quiet. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She was embarrassed. Y/N never wanted him to know what he did to her. She didn't want anyone to know.
When they made it back to his place, he comforted her. They talked about what was really going on in the past few months. The guy was a major asshole. One that she should have never linked up with.
"I just didn't want to feel alone," she admitted.
Damian placed a hand on hers. His thumb rubbed her soft skin. "You had me. You know I would never do anything like that to you,"
"I don't want to lose you, D. What if we don't work? I can't lose you," Y/N confessed. A fresh set of tears rolled down her cheeks. He wiped them away and pulled her close.
"Don't think of it like that. I love you, Y/N. I don't ever want to lose you either,"
"I love you too," she admitted. Her voice cracked.
The rest of the night was spent talking. She started to feel better and apologized for keeping it from him. By the time they went to bed, she had a permanent smile on her face. They confessed they loved each other. Something she thought would never happen.
Y/N woke up bright and early the next morning. She started to make them breakfast in the kitchen. He must have smelled the food because he appeared behind her a few minutes later. She still wore one of his shirts that he lent her.
"Wow, a beautiful girl making me breakfast? How did I get so lucky?"
She smiled and turned around. "Just a thank you for last night. You are the absolute best, D,"
"That's not the only thing that happened last night. Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?"
"When you told me you loved me," he answered.
"I've never been more sure about anything else in my life,"
A smile broke on his handsome face. "I feel the same way. Can I kiss you?"
Y/N leaned in and kissed him. She waited for those words for so long. There was no way that she was going to let a single second pass. His hands explored her body. They rested on the small of her back. He wanted to keep her close. She was never running away from him again.
Finally, the pair pulled away for some air.
"I want to show you how much I love you, Y/N. What can I do to show-"
Damian was cut off the moment her lips found his once more. Her hand rested against his cheek. She grabbed his hand and led him to his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him.
His hands reached under her shirt. He slid his hands up. The shirt was removed from her body, exposing her to him. He sucked in his breath. Brown eyes scanned her body from head to toe. She was perfect. Now left in only her underwear, she took a step back. The back of her knees hit against the bed.
She propped herself on her elbows. He removed his own shirt and threw it to the side. Damian leaned down to kiss her. His teeth pulled her bottom lip.
Y/N's body was worshipped by him. Her neck kissed as he praised her. His lips traveled south. Her nipples licked and teased. She squirmed under him. Her moans filled the room. Soft pants and calls for his name filled his ears.
His fingers snuck inside her panties. Her skin felt him smirk when he felt the damp fabric. She called his name when he applied pressure to her clit. His finger circled around her bundle of nerves.
The build-up in Y/N's lower stomach grew. She tried to close her legs, but he held her thigh. His dark eyes watched her facial expressions. She was in cloud nine, and this was all from his actions.
Damian pulled away from her. Fingers hooked her underwear and pulled them down. He tossed them to the side. He stood up. "Are you sure about this?"
"I want you, Damian," she promised. "More than I've ever wanted anyone before,"
Damian stripped. Y/N's eyes took all of him in. He kissed her lips softly and thrusted inside of her with ease. He groaned in her lips. His thrusts were slow at first. Once her pleasured sounds filled his ears, his thrusts picked up the pace. Her calls for his name turned him on more.
The pressure in her stomach grew. It felt like a rubber band about to snap. She wanted to wait until he finished. All this was for her. She resolved to finish last, but other plans were in the way.
His hand found her clit again. She begged him to stop. That he should finish first. He laughed and told her nonsense.
"Be a good girl for me,"
Her whole body tensed around him. Toes curled and sheets from underneath were gripped tightly. Damian tried to fuck her through it, but the pleasure was too intense. He stilled inside of her, his seed painting her walls.
When he caught his breath, he placed his forehead to hers. His breath tickled her.
"I love you, Y/N, and I will never waste this opportunity with you,"
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alieinthemorning · 1 day
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How’s It Hanging, Beautiful? [Ace Trappola]
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Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert
Pronouns: None
Remaster of: “You’re so beautiful.” | Ace Trappola [400 Follower Event]
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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Ace wouldn’t say that he wasn’t a morning person, but instead a deep sleeper. Usually, it’d take a lot to rouse him from sleep. However, there was one thing that could always get him up, no matter what. 
And that was the smell of Sunday morning breakfast. 
Saliva was pooled in his mouth before he even opened his eyes. He swallowed it as the rest of his body followed the lead of his taste buds. He stretched (carefully, he didn’t want to get a cramp), letting out a satisfying groan. Then he sat up, eyes finally opening to the dimly lit room. 
You were not there beside him or lingering in the room, but that made sense since you had to be the one cooking. What was odd was that Grim was nowhere to be found, but maybe today was his lucky day, and you’d give him some extras (when would he learn that he’d only get anything if he’d actually help). Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, and headed for the bathroom. 
After fixing his rough bed head and rinsing his mouth out, Ace made his way downstairs to join you and Grim in the kitchen. You must have gotten up earlier than usual today because breakfast was almost done.
“Come on! Lemme just have a little—” Grim’s paw was reaching toward the bowl of strawberries, but you quickly swatted it. 
“Let it alone. Go take your seat.” You didn’t even bat an eye.
Grim huffed, hopped off the stool, and retreating to the dining room. 
Ace didn’t bother with teasing him, and instead honed in on you. 
“Morning.” His arms wrapped around your waist. 
You turned in his arms, “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You pecked the underside of his chin. 
He returned your kiss with one on your forehead. “You coulda woke me up, you know…” 
“Yeah, but I like watching you drool.” 
Ace pulled back, “I do not drool.” 
You simply smiled as you picked up the plate of pancakes. “Time to set the the table.” 
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Sundays were lazy days, most of the time the three of you would just stay huddled up in bed all day after breakfast. Today was no different, except for Grim leaving to follow the sun (he was an expert sunbather, after all).  
Ace was a deep sleeper, but for some reason something pulled him from his sleep. And he was forever thankful for it. 
You were turned toward him (you were facing away from him when you fell asleep, you’re such a wild sleeper), mouth slightly open (no drool, damn it), lashing gently resting against dark circles. His thumb brushed against your lower lid. He should talk to Crowley about lessening your load. 
“How’s it hanging, beautiful?” 
Ace jolted, not expecting you to speak, let alone be awake. 
But then he smiled, “Not much, what’s going on with you, beautiful?”
“Just admiring you.”
“Crazy, me too.” 
You both laughed at yourselves,
and the beauty of your relationship.
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Happy Birthday, Ace!
And now that I've said that, time for a serious end note lol
Sooooooo on the 9/1/24, I had emergency gallbladder surgery! And now I'm having an emergency hysterectomy (Tomorrow lol)! Originally, my appointment was in November, but after another trip to the ER they finally realized that bleeding for 6 months straight actually isn't normal, and something should be done about it!
So, yeah, I'm gonna be out of commission (again)! Which, I've barely been posting anyway, but I've also been in excruciating pain for the past six months, sooo yeah!
I'll see yeah when I see y'all!
Ko-Fi | Masterlist
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wickedsmille · 1 day
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de-aged!Jason and it's tim's problem
Warnings for Jason being a wee little bean (sort of), Tim's super stellar skills with teenagers and the lack of any kind of editing. I wrote this and abandoned it so long ago but discovered it and was like aw, ok, s'kinda cute. :v
It's a tame gen fic with platonic cuddles and vague mentions to Jason and Tim's not so fantastic childhoods.
So. *vague hand wave*
“No. No way.” Tim is freaking out. 
He has ample reason to freak out because -
“Who the fuck are you?” Jason demands. 
Except, it isn’t Jason because Jason is over six inches taller with over a hundred pounds of extra muscle. Jason is nearly Bruce’s size, not some long limbed, gangly teenager just starting to grow into his shoulders. Granted, the surly scowl and inner fire is all Jason, as is the narrow eyed suspicion. So is the far too large leather jacket and armor hanging off him and the domino barely holding on. It’s a small blessing he’d forwent his helmet for patrol. 
“Your worst nightmare,” Tim replies automatically. 
Realizing the inappropriateness of what he’s said, regardless of his always wanting to say it, makes him grimace because, yeah, for a while he kind of was Jason’s worst nightmare. They’ve slipped into something approaching civil co-workers since Jason decided to invade Titans Tower to test him via a vicious beatdown but they are nowhere near take care of each other after a magical mishap territory. 
At Tim’s words, Jason drops down lower into a fighting stance and squares up with Tim, unafraid and ready to brawl even if Tim is obviously trained because only the rare few decided to go out at night in a costume and mask without the skills to back it up. And Tim is bigger than Jason. By maybe an inch but he’ll take it. It’s still a victory considering adult, not magically de-aged Jason is a behemoth. 
Waving his hands frantically, Tim amends his previous statement. “That came out wrong.”
“How does ‘Your worst nightmare’ come out wrong?” Jason spits.
“Okay, tell me you’ve never wanted to quote a movie in the middle of a fight,” Tim shoots back.
Jason seems to chew on Tim’s words before he loosens up and stands though the tension refuses to leave and the wariness remains. “If you make one wrong move I’ll smack the shit out of you.”
“Been there, done that,” Tim says as his mouth gets away from him again. 
“Wait, what?”
Later, when he’s alone, Tim is going to bang his head against a wall and smother himself with his own pillow. He can’t <i>wait</i> so long as it makes him forget the misery that is this moment in which he can’t keep his mouth shut and he has a teenage Jason Todd staring him down like he’s crazy. Which, fair. None of the Bats are sane, per say.
“What do you remember?” Tim asks tiredly.
Jason chews over his words, coiled tight and still ready to strike. His gaze roves over Tim before he finally says, “I am. Was? Robin, I think. But I was just living on the street. So, I don’t,” Jason trails off, unsure. 
“So you remember some stuff from being Robin and some from before that but not everything?” Tim guesses.
Nodding hesitantly, Tim fights the urge to slap a hand to his head. Why not make things more complicated by not only taking years off Jason’s life but also jumbling the memories he does have? Tim doesn’t mind. This is perfectly fine. Without going over each detail, there’s no way to accurately tell how much Jason does or does not remember. It’s clear he remembers being Robin but not moving in with Bruce. The two things are so closely linked, it doesn’t bode well for what other holes are in Jason’s mind. But it’s fine. 
Tim decides not to say anything else and runs his hands through his hair. It’s a good thing Bruce isn’t in town, JL business as usual these days unless one of the big name Gotham Rogues starts causing trouble, or he’d be all over tiny Jason. There is one other plausible candidate to stick on Jason Duty. A candidate already in Gotham and primed for endless cuddles and forced bonding sessions since his newest victim is spending a few weeks respite at the Kent Farm. Dick is going to be ecstatic.
Reaching up, Tim turns his com back on and pretends like Jason doesn’t flinch. “Nightwing?”
“RR,” Dick greets cheerily. “What can I do you for?”
“I’ve got a situation.”
The shift between Dick the Brother and Nightwing the Protector is stark as he asks, “Are you in trouble?”
Hesitantly, Tim hedges, “Well, not <i>me</i>, but. You’ll want to see this. Meet us back at the Cave in twenty.”
“Us?”
Tim clicks off the com and mutes it. Sure, it’ll drive Dick up a wall to not know what’s going on but Tim doesn’t feel like getting badgered into telling the whole sordid tale of Red Robin and Red Hood getting bested by a two bit magician with a splintered down piece of wood and a pointed hat. Embarrassing would not even begin to cover it so he doesn’t fancy having anyone else drop into the conversation, Barbara.
The lesser of the two evils is obviously to let Dick stew in the knowledge that Tim is safe and whole but hiding a secret. There is no other possible resource. None that would save Tim’s already wounded and dying pride. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Jason tells him harshly.
Tim fixes him with a flat look. “I’m not dealing with this, your brother can so you can either come with willingly or I’m tossing you over my shoulder and you’re still coming with.” How crazy is it to think he could easily carry Jason.
Jason tries to stare him down but Tim cocks a hip, crosses his arms and waits patiently. Eventually, Jason relaxes by inches. 
“Something happened to me, didn’t it?”
Tim can’t help but roll his eyes no matter how unfair it is to Jason since he can’t remember. “No,” Tim replies sarcastically, again knowing he’s being unfair but the universe started it by getting him into this mess. 
“You don’t need to be a bag of dicks.”
“You don’t need to use such language, young man.”
Jason looks like he sucked on something sour as he crosses his arms and hunches his shoulder inward. There’s a faint dusting of pink over his cheeks. It makes Tim feel a little bad. As far as he can tell, Jason is fifteen again, which sends a pang of hurt through Tim’s chest with the implications, which means he has all the false bluster and bravado that comes with being a teenager with the added bonus of being hypersensitive to embarrassment and criticism. He should stop being such an ass. 
Heaving a sigh, Tim waves Jason over as he turns his back and starts making his way down the alley to where his bike is parked. Hesitantly, Jason follows but his steps quicken as they draw near and he gets a look at Tim’s bike. The resistance is gone and replaced with awe as he circles the machine despite Tim swinging his leg over and mounting it. Patiently, like a saint, he allows Jason his moment of wonder. It is a beautiful work of ingenuity and power. 
Then the seconds drag out. Looking over his shoulder, Tim raises a brow and shrugs a shoulder towards the back of his bike. “So, I did tell Nightwing twenty minutes.”
“And the longer I keep us here the faster you’ll have to drive,” Jason replies without missing a beat, bent over and inspecting the anti-locking mechanism on the back brakes.
Tim grins, small and dangerous. “Alright. I’ll give you a couple more minutes.”
He gives Jason more than a few minutes because he knows the streets are empty and he can safely push his bike faster than he would without an excuse like chasing bad guys or coming to someone’s rescue. It took some coaxing to get Jason on and even longer to get him to wrap his arms securely around Tim but, once they had set off and Tim ran his third red light, both of them settled in for the too fast ride. Midway, Tim decides to show off and skid through a particularly sharp turn. It’s a flawless maneuver and Jason shows his appreciation by whooping loudly.
Tim does it again once they reach the cave. This time, he drifts into a narrow parking spot between the Batmobile and Nightwing’s bike. Jason’s arms tighten around him as they skirt the edges of the Batmobile by millimeters and he doesn’t let go even after they’ve come to a stop and Tim has killed the engine. Eventually, Tim has to pat Jason’s arms to get him off so Tim can breathe properly again. Jason promptly scrambles off at that. 
By the time Tim is turning around to face the main part of the Cave, Dick already by their side with a worried furrow to his brow. He blinks once at Jason, looks at Tim, blinks again at Jason then melts. 
“Oh my gods,” Dick says softly. He looks delighted and Tim does not envy Jason who’s eyeing him critically.
“When did you get so old?” Jason asks unkindly. 
Dick throws a hand over his heart and actually looks slightly offended. “Wow, okay, so I’m not <i>old</i> -”
“Yes, you are.”
“And, wow, I forgot how much of a little shit you were,” Dick finishes fondly. 
Jason bristles and looks like he wants to shove his hands in his pockets but the armored cargo pants are hanging too low for him to manage it without looking ridiculous. 
To make up for his earlier mistakes, Tim cuts in to take pity on Jason. “Turns out the guy we were chasing was the real deal. I assume you can give Zatanna a call and handle it?”
Together, Dick and Jason both ask, “You’re not sticking around?”
Tim glances between the two of them, bewildered. “Uh, no? I get enough second hand teenage angst from Damian.”
Jason doesn’t look happy about it but Dick does. He nods amicably and smiles widely. “That’s alright, I volunteer myself as tribute.” 
Without warning, he moves towards Jason with his arms raised and posed to envelope the teen in a patented Dick Grayson Hug. Swiftly, Jason side steps him and slides behind Tim so he’s blocking any other attempts Dick might make. Some of Dick’s joy falls but he looks undeterred as he lowers his arms and doesn’t move forward again. If Tim weren’t hanging onto some old hurts still and feeling petty, he’d feel a little bad for Dick. 
Tim shifts, trying to edge his way over to the computer so he can type up his report and be on his merry way but Jason gets closer and follows him like Tim’s shadow. The entire time, Dick keeps staring. The longer it goes on, the more Jason scowls at him. It is hilarious and, were Tim a casual observer, he would have burst out laughing long ago. As it is, he’s an unwilling participant in Dick and Jason’s detente and caught in the middle as Dick barely restrains himself from draping himself over Jason while Jason looks more and more like he wants to kick Dick in the nuts. 
Pointedly, Tim sits down in the computer chair which leaves Jason nowhere to go. He sticks by Tim’s side regardless, eyeing Dick who has followed them like a puppy waiting for a treat. Cuddles with his younger than normal little brother being the treat. 
There’s quiet for a few blessed minutes before Jason asks awkwardly, “What’s your name? I didn’t get it before.”
“You never asked before,” Tim says absently as he starts to write up his report. His fingers may go a little faster than usual in an attempt to hurry his escape. “But it’s Red Robin.”
“Like the restaurant?” Tim doesn’t have to look at Jason to know he’s judging. He can hear it.
“Yum,” Tim says flatly. 
“And,” Jason starts. Tim can make out Jason shifting awkwardly. “What about your real name?”
Tim cuts a glance Jason’s way and takes in the frown, the hardened edge to his eyes as they look between the Cave and Tim, the uncertainty. He shouldn’t feel guilty. He doesn’t. It’s not like he did anything wrong. But Jason didn’t either. The wannabe mage got lucky and it could’ve easily been Tim drowning in his uniform and overwhelmed by the way everything has changed from what he remembered. 
Looking back at the computer and continuing the report, Tim caves and answers, “Tim. My name is Tim. I was the Robin that came after you.”
“So this,” Jason pauses to wiggle in his armor, “was my idea when I passed on Robin?” Tim looks to see Jason giving the guns hanging from hips a dubious look. Right, he probably should have taken away the firearms.
There is so much wrong with what Jason said and has left unsaid. In no universe does Tim want to volunteer himself to answer. No amount of cutting edge tech, unlimited Zesti or epic W&W campaigns could make him handle this conversation. 
Tim searches for Dick who’s apparently made himself look busy at one of the closer work benches. His hands have stopped tinkering with the grapple gun he’d been poking moments ago and his back goes rigid. No matter how miffed he is with Dick, he doesn’t have the heart to make him handle answering Jason either. Lying is an option. Lying is a fantastic option but Jason deserves more than that.
Carefully, Tim settles on, “Yes, all that was your idea. You didn’t really pass on Robin but I don’t think we should get into it. I hope you’ll trust me and leave it alone for now.”
The silence stretches on between them, broken up only by Tim’s typing. 
“Okay,” Jason eventually answers. “Don’t get me wrong, I trust you about as far as I can throw you.”
“Let’s not test that.”
“What if I want to?” Jason asks cheekily. 
“Then we’ll see how far I can toss you,” Tim tells him simply.
“Oh, it is on, Tim.”
“Like Donkey Kong,” Tim agrees. “Later though. I’m trying to finish this and then I need to leave.”
“Didn’t peg you for a cut and run kind of person.”
“More the strategic retreat kind.”
“Sounds like you’re scared,” Jason goads him.
Tim spares him an unimpressed frown. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Jason smiles, sincere and cocky. “Is it working?”
“Hardly,” Tim drawls as he puts the finishing touches on the report.
He stands to leave once he’s saved and exited out of the file. Immediately, Jason’s hand shoots out and grabs Tim’s wrist. Surprised, Tim looks at him and doesn’t fight the tight grip Jason has on him. 
“Don’t leave me with him,” Jason mutters.
Tim looks at Dick who has the audacity to plaster on an innocent smile while leaning casually against the workbench. He can see it now. As soon as he leaves, Dick will be all over Jason. It won’t be the regular, suffocating attention Dick focuses on a sibling when he zeroes in on a member of the family. Oh no, it’ll be a hellish combination of guilt and excessive affection to make up for time lost and amend mistakes years in the past. Tim pinches the bridge of his nose just thinking about it. 
“Why don’t I drop you off with Alfred?” Tim counters.
Jason brightens but he doesn’t let go of Tim. “Alfie’s here?”
“Indeed,” Alfred says primly from his spot next to where the Cave connects with the manor. “Master Tim, why don’t you help Master Jason out of suit while Master Dick and I see to finding him something more suitable to wear and finishing dinner?” Alfred says it like a question but it’s far from it. 
Dick starts to protest but one look from Alfred has him clamming up. He scurries over to the lockers at Alfred’s prompting to change and shower before coming up where he’ll be waiting. Dawlding is strongly discouraged. 
Tim can recognize when his plans to flee have been thoroughly foiled. Looking Heaven-ward to plead the universe for mercy, Tim spins in the chair to face Jason. He looks a little terrified so Tim smiles gently. 
“He’s right. It can’t be comfortable wearing that and I’m familiar with the security measures built into the suit. Is it alright if I help?” Tim asks him first. Slowly, Jason nods and Tim watches as he swallows hard. Tell you what, why don’t I take the guns and I’ll walk you through everything else?” Tim offers.
“Oh gods, please,” Jason says quickly. His mouth snaps shut after, the flush on his cheeks moving up to the tips of his ears. “I mean, yeah, sounds good.”
Tim bites his lip to keep from laughing and silently disengages the security on the holsters and slips it off. He instructs Jason on how to do the same with the rest of the armor. He keeps his voice level and void of any condemnation or coddling as he does so. Surprisingly, it’s mostly painless. At least on Tim’s part. Jason looks about ready to bolt which Tim gets it, he does. The whole thing reminds him of school locker rooms and playing catch up on social norms in the worst setting possible.
That mildly traumatizing experience over with, Tim slaps his thighs and stands. “Why don’t we grab something to eat and get you into something less,” Tim stops and waves his hand at Jason but doesn’t continue. 
Even the compression shirt and pants underneath the suit are too large on Jason. He frowns down at the clothes and says sourly, “It’s not my fault I grow up to be a behemoth.”
“True,” Tim concedes. Again, they’re skating the edges of an endless rabbit hole he doesn’t want Jason to fall down. While he seems to be handling the situation well, no doubt prepped by Bruce for all manner of insane contingencies as a part of his training, Tim doubts a recounting of Jason’s death would go over as well. “Clothes and dinner then?”
“I’m not a kid so don’t treat me like one,” Jason snaps. 
“Stop looking like one and I will,” Tim counters. “I’m going to go change but you know the way up if you don’t want to wait.”
Although Tim isn’t expecting Jason to still be in the cave by the time he’s dressed down in sweatpants and a t-shirt after a sorely needed shower, he hurries through his usual after patrol routine. Just in case. The foresight turns out to be fruitful since Jason is meandering around the Cave, pausing to examine something he doesn’t recognize. When Tim comes out from the locker area, Jason’s head swivels around. 
This time Tim has no plausible reason for Jason to blush but blush he does as he looks over Tim. Deciding to ignore it, Tim finishes drying his hair and lets the towel sit around his shoulders. He nods towards the exit up to the manor. 
The trip up is uneventful. Alfred appears beside them as they emerge from the Cave and holds out a neatly folded pile of clothes. Jason takes them gratefully and ducks away to the nearest bathroom while Tim makes his way to the kitchen. With so few in the house, it’s rare they sit down in the family dining room and, as he anticipated, Alfred has dinner spread out on the nook tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. The food looks delicious, smells delicious, but Tim’s itching to leave and he knows, if he sits down with everyone, he’ll get wrangled into staying. 
From behind, Jason appears once more and Dick follows after, hovering as one does when their little brother has been demoted to extra tiny little brother. Jason, for the most part, takes it with grace by giving Dick only one heated glare over his shoulder. Jason comes to stand before Tim then Dick falls into line too. He descends on the food, plating it up and chattering away. Tim indulges him, hums where he needs to and answers any questions Dick throws his way, but Jason stays quiet. 
He doesn’t make a move to grab any food for himself which is not Tim’s problem. Jason has shown he remembers living in the manor, being Robin and Bruce’s son, so there’s no reason he can’t help himself. Tim leaves him to it so he can dig around in the pantry for one of the energy bars he knows he squirreled away in the back when he moved out for exactly this situation. As he’s shutting the pantry door, victorious with a couple bars in his hand, Jason is looking at him. He’s eyeing the food in Tim’s hand then looking at Alfred’s spread like it’ll bite him. 
It takes a second for the pieces to click together but Ra’s doesn’t call Tim Detective for no reason.
Sidling up to Jason’s side, he holds out one of the bars which Jason takes hesitantly. 
“I get it. I can grab more if you want,” Tim tells him kindly. 
Jason looks ready to beat him with the protein bar as he hisses, “What would you know, rich boy? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your Bristol accent.”
“Packaged food is safe, right?” Tim asks him rhetorically, his voice cold. Jason’s comment rubs him the wrong way. “Don’t have to worry about something being in it or being spoiled. Hard habit to shake when you fall back on old conditioning.”
Jason flinches back. 
“Hey, you guys coming?” Dick asks through a mouthful of food from where he’s seated at the table.
“Nah, neither of us is very hungry,” Tim lies smoothly. “We’ll probably grab a couple snacks.”
Dick looks upset about the change in course, frowning around another forkful of food. Like magic, Alfred sweeps into the room before Dick can protest. 
“Perhaps retire to the sitting room? I can have an assortment of snack items brought in. I dare say a calm night in would do this family good.” There’s a knowing glint in Alfred’s eye.
Remembering Dick’s propensity for cuddles and Jason’s resistance to it, Tim bumps Jason’s shoulder as he says, “What do you think? Or do you want to pick?”
“Library, I’d prefer the library,” Jason says automatically.
Alfred smiles without smiling. “Very good, Master Jason. I’ll bring a few things up to you and Master Tim if you’d like to go get settled now.”
“Actually-” Tim tries to interject. Jason will be fine. From what Tim’s learned, the library is Jason’s safe space, he’ll have food to eat and he’ll have Alfred to help him through. Tim isn’t needed. He’s not even sure why he’s being so nice.
It’s not them. With no idea on how to overcome the bad blood between himself and Jason, Tim hasn’t tried to repair their relationship and Jason hasn’t made any effort to either. Really, Tim should’ve left Jason to Dick and Alfred back in the cave. Putting his foot down would’ve had him gone already, sitting in his nest and ordering pizza while going over his active cases. 
But Jason looks so lost. He’s fronting, falling on the familiar anger and confidence he’s always had. He’s regressing back into a mindset more befitting the streets now that he’s so uncomfortable and likely feeling cornered. It’s so unlike the Jason Tim knows. Jason’s always been full of piss and vinegar but this softer version? It makes Tim’s heart hurt a little but in a way he can’t ignore. 
Like Jason has read Tim’s mind, his hand wraps around Tim’s wrist again and he pulls him out of the kitchen.
Leading them into the foyer and up the stairs, with his back to Tim, he asks, “How did you know? About the food.”
Taken aback by Jason’s aggressive exit and his new role as a tow-along, the truth slips out. “Uh, my parents. They left me alone a lot and forgot sometimes about the groceries. I got sick a couple times from eating spoiled stuff so I stuck to non-perishables.”
In answer, Jason grunts. “That’s fucked up.”
“My therapist agrees.”
“You have a therapist?”
Tim laughs. “Of course not. What respectable Bat does?”
When Jason laughs with him, it shakes loose something warm in Tim’s chest. He shakes away the feeling as Jason pushes into the library. Once they’re inside, Jason releases him. He doesn’t move right away, instead choosing to stand and survey the room.
Working on another hunch, Tim walks past Jason to a closet tucked away in the corner. Throwing the door open, he gatherers as many of the pillows and blankets inside as he can fit in his arms, kicks the door shut and dumps his haul on the bay window overseeing the back gardens. He arranges it all to make a comfortable looking nest. Once done, he nods in approval and gives himself a pat on the back. He cracks open the window as a finishing touch and presents his handiwork with a flourish.
“Easy exit, sight lines to all access points and extra pillows perfect for relaxing,” Tim says. Jason stays locked looking at him so Tim raises a brow. “Are you going to grab a book or stare at me all day?”
Jason jolts out of whatever trance he’d fallen into and quickly says, “Yeah, yep, I’ll go do the book thing with the reading.”
Tim smiles fondly as Jason trots into the shelves to retrieve a book. Tim can hear Jason as he searches for a book. The sounds are not encouraging. There’s a lot of murmured curses, grunting and frustrated growls. Once more, Tim resigns himself to helping out Jason. It doesn’t feel as much like a chore anymore.
“Issues?” Tim calls.
“They’re all 1st editions!” Jason yells back. “Who does that?”
“Give me a second,” Tim hollers back. 
Because Tim had a hard time leaving well enough alone as a kid, he knows Jason’s old room has several well worn copies of Jason’s favorites. Ones that could get thrown in a fire and he’d be out a couple bucks to replace it, cheap copies he can use over and over again till the pages are fraying and the spines have separated. Tim picks the lock on Jason’s old room and grabs a couple of the most worn down paperbacks. A young Tim may have been armed with curiosity and a lack of boundaries but he didn’t go so far as to read Jason’s favorites. Definitely not. That wasn’t a thing. 
Back in the library, Jason has settled into the seat of the bay window. He holds out the books to Jason who takes them and inspects each. 
“Are you a mind reading meta or something?” Jason asks him suspiciously. 
“No, nothing like that,” Tim replies.
“So someone just fucked you up real good like me?”
Grinning ruefully, Tim shrugs. “I like to think I turned out alright.”
“Yeah, you did.” Jason clamps his mouth shut after his off hand comment and his face goes red. Suddenly, he’s a lot more focused on the books in his hands than talking to Tim.
Tim’s not touching that with a ten foot pole but it’s still amusing. He settles on the floor, content to wait for Alfred, snacks and the excuse that it’s getting late so he can slip away guilt-free.
“You’re seriously going to sit down there?” Jason eventually asks to break the companionable silence between them. 
Seeing a possible out, Tim responds, “I can go somewhere else if you’d rather be alone?” He doubts it since Jason has imprinted on him or somehow deemed Tim a safe person and latched on but a man can hope.
When he looks up, he meets Jason’s eye. The blush is back in full force. “No, I don’t like being alone,” he admits grudgingly. 
The something warm in Tim’s chest is back again, stronger than before. It makes his brain soupy, or it’s the exhaustion and need for sleep. Either way, Tim tells him, “Neither do I.”
“So get up here,” Jason demands. Very pointedly, Tim looks at the bay window and the distinct lack of space to fit an extra person. Aggressively opening one of his books, scowling at the pages, Jason mutters, “Just fucking get up here.”
When Jason hops out of burrow of blankets and points at the window seat, Tim figures he can humor him. What’s the harm, after all? If anything it proves the point that although it is incredibly comfortable with the way Tim layered the blankets there’s no way they could both fit. He spreads his arms wide to encompass the fact that there isn’t enough room for them to share. 
The humor drains right out of him as Jason steps up to the window, his expression twists together in a curious mix of angry fear and climbs into Tim’s lap. Tim would like to amend that. Jason awkwardly climbs up into his lap. Actually, it is super awkward. 
Tim’s so stunned by the forwardness of the actions that all the words he wants to push past his lips get stuck and die on his tongue. 
Like this is any old day and not what’s shaping up to be one of the weirdest days of Tim’s life, Jason scooches over as far as he can till his back is pressed against the window. He’s half turned towards the ceiling but tucked tightly against Tim’s side. It’s not cuddling, not really with Tim’s arm pinned between them and Jason doing his best to squeeze back so they don’t touch even though it’s unavoidable. It is tangentially related to cuddling though. 
Jason starts reading. Tim starts staring at him blankly.
“You’re shit at cuddling,” Jason grumbles.
As if Tim’s brain couldn’t break anymore, here comes a teenage Jason to bulldoze over the semblance of a higher thinking he’d been able to scrape together. With his mind officially offline, Tim’s mouth takes the wheel.
“I haven’t had much practice.”
Taking Tim’s arm, he pulls it out from between them and sits up enough he can get it around his shoulders. Once satisfied, he grabs Tim’s other arm and drapes it around his chest as he lies fully on his side. He even nuzzles into Tim’s chest then goes back to reading.  
What.
“My mom used to cuddle me like this,” Jason whispers, eyes never leaving the pages of his paperback.
How is Tim supposed to handle that? He is not equipped for this. They have officially bumbled, dived head first, into things better handled by Dick. Or Steph. Or Cass. Not Tim. But is he mad about it? He has to stop and think about that.
Tim tightens his arms and scoots down a little to get into a more comfortable position. He’s no expert on cuddling but it seems like something that can take a while. Until Jason is back to his fire-fed-gasoline attitude, Tim can deal with this, he decides. He’s already caved to every other whim Jason has had, has helped him feel more centered when his entire world has shifted, so he may as well stop fighting it so much and get it over with before Jason gets the chip back on his shoulder. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. 
Sleepily, Jason asks him, “You keep watch, yeah?”
Patting his arm, Tim hums, “Yeah, no worries. I’ll be the look out.”
63 notes · View notes
lokigodofmyheart · 2 days
Text
FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS
MASTERLIST
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader
Words: 4.479.
Summary: Tony and Y/N have a friends with benefit situation. But what happens when someone wants more and the other don't?
Warning/Content: angst, fluff.
A/N: This is my first time writting a Tony x Reader. Dividers by @cafekitsune <3
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Fury was on her, wanting the reports from last mission. And obviously, the only person who hadn’t finished yet was Stark. Somehow, Fury thought that if someone could make him do it, it would be Y/N. And that’s how she ended up in his lab. 
Tony was sitting in his chair, doing absolutely nothing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked at her with his usual smirk “What’s bring you here, Y/L/N?” 
“Have you finished your report from the last mission, Stark?” She asks, walking closer to his desk. 
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair “No, not yet. Why?” 
“Fury needs it. And he’s been waiting for it for two days now.” Y/N knew how Tony was and how much he hated to make those reports. In the end, she always ends up finishing for him. 
Tony rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his glass “I'll finish it, but not right now. I'm in the middle of something.” 
“Yeah, I can see it.” She glares at him, before she starts going through the giant amount of paper on his desk.  
Tony stops put his glass down on the desk and looks at her with a small smirk “Are you really here to talk about the reports?” 
“Yes.” She finally found it. 
“And are you sure that's the only reason you're here?” His smirks didn’t flatter. 
Y/N grabs the file in her hands “Yes.” That’s all she said before she turns around without looking at him and left his lab. 
Tony watched as she walked away from him, without any further comment. Obviously, given their situation, he found it a bit weird. 
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The next day, Y/N was in her room when she heard a knock on her door. She open it, seeing Tony standing there.  
“Yes?”  
The man leaned against the doorway, with a small smile that he saved just for her when they were alone “I need to go to the mall, buy a few things. Wanna tag along?” 
Her face turn to an apologetic one “Sorry, I’m not feeling very well...” 
“You feel sick?” He asked her and she could noticed the worry in his voice. 
“No, not. Just a small headache, nothing major...but thanks for the invitation anyway.” She gave him a small smile. 
Tony was a bit reluctant to believe her but didn't want to press further “Yeah, ok. Rest well.” 
“Thanks.” She gently closes the door. He stood there for a few seconds, worried, before he walked away. 
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The next time something like that happened, it was after movie night with the team. Everyone said good night after the movie ended, leaving just the two of them in the living room. Y/N slowly got up from the couch “I’m going to bed too.” 
Tony quickly got up too, grabbing her arm gently and smirk “Why don't we go to mine?” 
Again, the apologetic expression crossed her face “I’m on my period. Sorry.”  
His smirk dropped slightly as his grip loosened and his hand fall from her arm “Oh...” 
Y/N gave a small apologetic smile “Night, Stark.” 
He nods “Night, Y/L/N.” 
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Tony thought it was just a coincidence, but he noticed that she looked like she was avoiding being alone with him. It had been more than a week since they had sex and every time he tried, she just had some short of excuse.  
He waited until she finished her training and cornered her when she was leaving the room. “Y/L/N, we need to talk.” 
Y/N stops and look at him “Sure.” 
He looked around to see if anyone was around and he crossed his arms “Have I done something to you?” 
“No.” She made a confused face as she looked at him. 
He studied her features for a moment, before he spoke again, a little lower “You've been avoiding me lately...” 
“No, I’m not.” 
Stark stepped closer to her “Then explain why you're avoiding spending time with me alone.” 
Y/N gave him a small smile “I’m not. Really.” 
“Then why did you always have some sort of excuse each time I ask you to hang out just the two of us?” 
She looked at his face and could see that he was somewhat hurt by her actions “I told you, I wasn't feeling well one day, and the other one I was in my period.” 
He didn’t really believe her “What about the other time at the lab? You came, got some paper, and were gone in a second. You didn't even try to engage with me.” 
“I was busy with the report you didn’t finish. Fury needed that.” She explains and hoped he would buy it. 
Clearly he didn’t. “Like you care about the reports. I think you're avoiding me.” 
“I’m not, Tony.” She says with a gentle voice. “Why don’t you come to my room later, and we can...talk.” She smirks at the last word. 
“Alright, I'll come...” He said, before walking away back to his room, excited for what he could only assume was going to happen tonight. 
As soon as she noticed he had left, her smirk dropped “Fuck...”  
Y/N didn’t know what to do. Yes, she had been avoiding him. They had this friend with benefits things, and she knew from the start that it was all that was and it couldn’t be more. But she had catch feelings for the billionaire and she didn’t know what to do. 
Later, Y/N was sitting on her bed with her laptop in her lap finishing another report for Fury when she heard a soft knock on her door. 
“Come in!” She says without moving from her spot. 
Tony opened the door and walked in, a smirk on his face “Hey, sweetheart.” 
She smiles looking at him “Hey.” 
He walked to the bed, sitting down next to her, he was wearing just a tank top and sweatpants “So, you wanted to...talk.” 
Y/N chuckles softly, closing her laptop and putting on her nightstand. Tony leaned against the headboard, and pulled her onto his lap “You know, the way you were acting today had me a bit worried for a second. I thought I'd done something to upset you...” 
“You’ve done nothing.” She smiles. 
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him, his lips next to her ear “Good, I'm glad...” he began peppering light kisses on her neck and began to kiss down her neck, and to her shoulder, his hands slowly running up and down her waist and thighs. She just froze, she didn’t know what do to. Yes, she wanted sex with him, but her heart was screaming at her. 
Tony felt the tension in her body and he pulled away slightly, worried “You okay, sweetie?” 
“Yeah...” She tried to mask it with a smile, but Tony could notice on her voice something was wrong. 
His hands came up to cup her face, keeping her looking at him “You feel a bit tense. Talk to me...” Her smile slightly drops and that worried him even more “Y/N, what's wrong?” 
“I’m sorry...” Her voice was almost a whisper “I don’t think I can do this anymore...” 
“It's okay. We can do this another time.” He says with his hand rubbing her side to comfort her. 
“No, I didn’t mean like that.” 
Tony frowned and looked into her eyes “Then what do you mean?” 
Y/N sighs, before she spoke again “I can’t do this...” she points between them. 
His heart ached a bit at her words “You don't want this anymore?” 
“I'm sorry...” she says, getting off his lap and sitting by his side with her hands in her lap. 
He stayed sitting on the bed, looking at her, trying to hide the sadness that was building inside of him “Why? I thought...I thought things were good between us...” 
Y/N looked at him and she could see the pain on his face “It is...was...I swear it was.” 
“Then...why are you ending this? What changed? What did I do, huh?” he was trying to stay calm, but it was hard. He wanted answers. 
“You did nothing wrong.” She smiles sadly at him. 
“Then why? Do...do you not want me?” He let out a shaky breath, his eyes met hers again. 
“I do. And that’s the problem.” Her voice was low as she spoke. 
That made Stark was more confused now “Why is that a problem? I want you too.” 
“Because I want more.”  
There was silence. He took a few seconds trying to gather his thought before answering her with a frow on his face “But, we agreed from the start that-” 
“I know.” she cuts him “And that's why I'm ending this.” 
Tony et out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair “Y/N, I care about you, but that's- I can't give you what you want...” 
“I know.” She says and he could hear the sadness on her voice. He hated knowing that he was hurting her with his words, but he couldn't give her what she wanted.  
After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again “Do you regret us?” 
“No.” she smiles, looking at him, still with a hint of sadness “Never.” 
He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers “Me neither, sweetheart...” 
Y/N looked down at their hands together “I mean, we still can do the friends part.” 
Stark chuckled sadly, bringing their intertwined hands to his lips “Can friendship really be enough?” 
“It has to be.” She whispers. 
He sighed, hating the way this conversation was going “You know I care a lot about you. I just...I don't do relationships anymore, not after...” 
“I know.” She squeezes his hand slightly “And that’s why I’m not asking for it.” 
“This suck, you know. I'm losing someone I care about, and I hate myself for it.” he ran a hand through his hair frustrated. 
Y/N was feeling her eyes filling up with tears, and she blinks, trying to fight it “Believe me, this is much harder for me.” 
“It's hard for both of us, okay?”he said a bit harshly before immediately regretting it “Fuck...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap.” 
She shakes her head, not wanting to cry in front of him “No, it isn't. You care about me when I...I fell in love.” 
The moment he heard those words, his heart ached even more. He wasn't sure what to say to that... so for a while, he just stayed silent, fiddling with her fingers. His jaw was clenched as he tried to control the emotions coursing through his body...he felt like a terrible person, knowing that he could not return her feelings. “I...I wish I could give you what you want. I really do...” 
“Me too...” 
Tony let out a shaky breath and squeezed the hand of hers that he was still holding. Even though he knew it probably wasn't a good idea, he pulled her a bit closer to him, resting his head on her shoulder “We can still be friends, right?” 
Y/N rest her head on his “Of course.” 
For a while, he let himself just feel the comfort of being close to her. But then he pulled away, reluctantly letting go of her hand and getting up from the bed “I should go...” Y/N just nods, not trusting her voice to answer.  He looked down at her for a moment before leaning down and placing a feather-like kiss on her forehead. Part of him wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go, but instead, he straightened up and without another word, he walked out of her room. 
“Night, Stark...” She says, holding back her tears, knowing that after he left, they would never be this close again. 
“Goodnight, Y/L/N.” He said without looking back, knowing that the sight of her sad face would tear his heart even more. 
Tony walked down the hallway and into his room, walking straight to the mini fridge and grabbing a bottle of liquor. He sat down on the couch but didn't open the bottle just yet. Instead, he buried his head in his hands and let all his bottled-up emotions flood out of his every pore for what felt like hours. He sat there for hours, trying to get himself under control. But the mere idea that the one person he was closest to in the Tower was no longer his... that he had no right to touch, kiss, or hold... he grabbed the bottle of liquor, taking a long sip, as a single thought echoed in his mind ‘You're a complete idiot, Stark.’ 
Y/N stood in her bed, bringing her knees to her chest and finally letting the tears fload after Tony left until she eventually cried herself to sleep. In just a few minutes, Tony finished the first bottle and opened the second, the words she said earlier echoed in his mind. I fell in love. 
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The first week had been rough for both of them. They were avoiding each other, which mean they were avoiding the kitchen, the common room, the training room. While Y/N was more quiet than usual and saying she was suffering from allergies to justify that sometimes her eyes and nose were red, Tony just was in a incredible bad mood all the time. The team watched the whole situation with worry and confusion. Everyone knew there was something wrong with Tony, usually when he was in a bad mood, he would go around the tower, annoying and trying to get a reaction out of everyone. But now, he was practically avoiding any interaction. 
-- 
Tony was in the kitchen, enjoying the silence with a coffee in his hand, when Clint, Thor and Steve entered and stopped in front of him. He let out a tired sigh, knowing that wouldn’t be good “What do you all want?” 
Thor studied his face, before speaking “I know that look.” 
“What look?” 
“That look” Thor points at him “The same one I had when Jane broke up with me.” 
Tony rolled his eyes, annoyed with the direction the conversation was going “I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine.” 
“Yeah, Thor.” Clint started “That would imply that Stark was dating someone.” 
“Yes, thank you for that useless addition, bird brain.” Tony rolled his eyes as he leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his coffee “So, are you all just going to keep staring at me, or you have something to say?” 
Steve spoke this time “What's going on, Tony? And don't say nothing, because we all know that you're not fine.” 
Stark groaned, his shoulders slumping a bit “Just...it's nothing, alright? Can you just leave it be?” 
This time it was Clint who spoke “No, because obviously something is happening. Or had happened.” 
He took a deep breath, trying to control his temper “Can you just drop this? I just...I don't want to talk about her.” 
“Oh, so it is a woman?” Thor ask curious. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose “Damn it, yes, Thor. It was a woman, okay?” 
There was a moment of silence, Thor and Clint sharing a knowing look while Steve just stared at him “Well, what happened?” 
Despite himself, Tony’s voice trembled a bit when he spoke “She...she told me she wanted more. And I couldn't give her what she wanted. So we...we just ended things.” He took a gulp of his coffee to try and hide the turmoil he was still feeling “It's done, alright? It's over, and there's nothing that can be changed. Can we please just drop it?” 
The three of them study him, before Steve spoke in a gentle tone “You love her” It wasn't a question. 
Tony didn't even try to deny it this time. He let out a shaky breath and nodded, his eyes downcast “Yeah. I do.” 
“She loves you, right?” Steve asked “Since you said she wanted more, I thought...” 
He nodded and chuckled bitterly “That's the funny part. She does. But i made it clear from the start that I couldn't give her what she wanted. And we agreed to keep it casual. But...she said she still fell in love with me. 
“Arrangements can be changed.” Thor says. 
“It's not that simple, Thor.” Tony let out a tired sigh “What she wants...a serious relationship, commitment, all of that...I can't give her that.” 
“Why not? What are you so afraid of?” Steve was the one who spoke this time. 
“I'm not...” he starts to deny but stop mid-sentence and let out a frustrated breath “I'm not afraid.” he paused for a moment, looking over at Steve before continuing “I'm...I'm a mess, alright? I have demons that still haunt me, nightmares that don't let me sleep more than a few hours. I can be a dick in general and I...I haven't done the whole "relationship" thing in years. I can't get involved in that again.” 
“Don't you remember the last time he dated Pepper?” Clint says to Steve “He looked like hell after they broke up.” 
Tony rolls his eyes “Thanks a lot, bird brain, for remind me about one of the most painful times of my life.” 
Thor nods, agreeing “Yeah, you were just a little worse than you are now. The only thing that took you out of the misery was Y/N moving here and you becoming friends.” Steve and Clint looked at Thor. 
Tony groaned, realizing Thor was absolutely right. He never said it out loud, but deep down, he knew that the only reason he hadn't completely lost his brain after the whole Pepper situation, was Y/N. Having her around, being her friend, helped a lot during those dark months. He rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling the exhaustion again “What's the point of this conversation, guys? Even if I wanted too, it's too late now. She ended things because I didn't want to give her more than what we had.” 
“The question here is simple: Do you wanna give her what she wants?” Barton asked him. 
Stark looks at him for a moment, before answering slowly and honestly “Yes...I do.” 
Steve puts a hand on his shoulder “Then talk to her. I'm sure she'll listen.” 
He chuckled bitterly “It's funny that you think it's that simple. We ended things weeks ago and we've been avoiding each other ever since. You really think she'll want to talk to me now?” 
“If you’re talking about who I think you’re talking...she’ll listen.” Clint says. Obviously, after Thor made that comment, Barton and Rogers realized who he was talking about. 
And if everything couldn’t get worse, Y/N walked into the kitchen to get some water just in that moment, but she stops seeing Tony and the guys. She knew if she turned back, it would be suspicious, so she walked to the fridge to get her water “Hi...” 
Tony’s body tenses as soon as he saw her, his heart starting to pound hard on his chest. He quickly stands up from where he was resting his back against the counter, his eyes fixed on her. “Hey...”  
The three other Avengers made some lame excuses and left them alone. Tony stayed in his spot against the counter, watching the other members of the team leave the kitchen. Silence fell between them as they both stood a few feet apart from each other. 
“So... how’s it going?” Y/N spoke quietly, trying to make some small talk. 
“Like crap...” Tony didn't want to lie or pretend to be fine, and he knew she wouldn't believe it anyway. So he decided to go for honesty “How about you?” 
“Same.” 
He didn't like the tiredness in her voice, and he hated that he was responsible for it “You're not sleeping well either, right?” Y/N just answers with a head shake. He sighs softly, his heart clenching at the thought that she was suffering with the situation between them as much as he was “Same here...” 
“What a duo, huh?” She gave him a sad smile. 
Despite the situation, he chuckled softly “Yeah...” there was a moment of silence between them before he spoke again “You're avoiding me...” 
“I am...I needed a bit of space.” There was a minute of silence before she spoke again “You're avoiding me too...” 
He looked down for a few seconds, ashamed with himself “I...yeah, I know. I just...I didn't know if you wanted to see me...or if you would want to talk to me...” 
“Tony...” she walks closer to him, putting her water aside “I'm not mad at you or anything. I was sincere when I said we could still be friend.” 
As she walked closer to him, he looked at her face carefully, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. He clenched his jaw tightly as a wave of guilt washed over him. “You're not sleeping.” it wasn't a question, it was more a statement of his realization. 
Y/N rolls her eyes “Have you heard a word I said?” 
Despite everything, one thing he had missed the most was her eye-rolling, and he felt a tiny sense of relief as she did it now “I heard you. I also notice that you're looking like a zombie. You should be sleeping.” 
“You should be too. And not drinking.” 
He chuckled bitterly “Yeah, well. I sleep better after I drink. It helps with the nightmares.” 
“...they came back?” Y/N’s face softens, she knew about his nightmares. 
“Yes, a couple days after...we ended things.” He looked down, avoiding saying the word 'break up' because he still didn't want to believe that's what really had happened. 
“Are you okay?”  
Tony lifts his head, his eyes meeting hers. As much as he wanted to lie and say that he was fine, he wasn't able to do it “No, I'm not...truth is, I haven't been okay at all since you end things with me. I'm...I'm a mess, really. I drink every night, I can't sleep more than a few hours each night, and...and I miss you. I miss you so damn much.” He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to control the emotions he was feeling and the words he was saying, but he continued “I know I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be telling you all of this. I have no right...but I do miss you. I miss our nights together, our movie nights...and most of all, I miss talking to you, having you by my side...and I can't lie and say I don't miss being with you...” he laughed bitterly “Hell, I miss us...I should have never let you go...I should have...I should have said yes. I should have said yes to everything you wanted. But I was scared...” 
“Scared of what...?” She asks without looking away from him. 
“Scared of committing, scared of being in a relationship again, being trapped...terrified of ending up like I did after Pepper broke up with me...” He let out a strangled breath “I was so goddamn terrified of losing myself again, of having my heart broken again, that I ended up pushing the only person who was willing to be with me, away. And what the hell was the point since I end up breaking my own heart anyway...” 
“You said 'was'...” she spoke quietly. 
Tony looked at her again, his eyes going wide in realization of what he said. “Yes...”his voice was barely above a whisper, but he didn't look away from her “I said 'was'...” He could see the look on her face becoming almost a hopeful one. “I was terrified...” he repeated, as he moved so he was standing right in front of her. He hesitantly reached out his hands to touch hers and she did not pull back.  
A tiny sigh of relief escaped his lips as she let him touch her, her hands so much smaller than his. He gently laced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hands and Tony took a deep breath before continuing “I know what I want...and I want you. I want us...everything. I wanna take you out on dates, I wanna sleep with you and see you pretty face when I wake up. I want to watch silly movies with you, and laugh at your silly comments. I wanna be with you when you're not feeling well...I want everything. Hell, I want to marry you, I want a family...I want a future and I can't see one without you on it.” he paused for a moment, but continued in a soft whisper “And the most important thing...I want to make you happy. I want to make you smile and laugh every single day. I want to give you everything I have, everything I am...hell, I want to give you the goddamn moon if that's what you want. But most of all...I want to give you my heart...because you're the only one I trust with it...” 
Y/N didn’t answer, she just cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. The moment her lips brushed against his, he groaned loudly before cupping her face with his hands and pulling her even closer, the kiss becoming more and more urgent and frantic as he let out all the pent-up feelings and emotions through it. She parted the kiss, but didn't pull back “Are you sure?” 
Tony rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed and his breathing becoming more ragged as he tried to regain control over himself. He opened his eyes and looked at her face, one of his hands moving to brush against her cheeks “Never been more sure of anything in my life, sweetheart.” 
He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before continuing “Y/N Y/L/N...will you be my girlfriend?”  
Y/N smile and nods “Yes.” He let out another breath of relief, a huge wave of happiness washing over his entire body.  
They stayed in that position for a few seconds before he leaned in to kiss her again, this time the kiss was gentle and unrushed. “God, I missed you so much...” 
“I missed you too...” 
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, her face resting on his chest and his face buried in her hair. He took a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of having her in his arms once again, and the realization that it wouldn't just be a fling. It was real, it was more than physical desire. He cared for her, he loved her, and she was his “I love you.” 
Y/N smiles “Say it again...” 
Tony smiles at her request “I love you.” he says, gently pulling her face away from his chest so he could look directly in her eyes “I'm in love with you...And I plan on saying it every damn day for the rest of our lives.” 
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mayxo-hxh · 2 days
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okay 2 questions....
do you think its more likely that illumi kills hisoka or hisoka kills illumi and how do you think it will go down?
what would you WANT to happen with one of their actual deaths?
You're not really going to like my answer here because it completely negates both questions.
I don't think either of them will die or kill each other.
I think it's natural to think so considering the current setting of the arc and what was revealed and their characters, but how I see it, their relationship has proven to be very nonsituational. As in, they aren't really hanging out and helping each other just because they happen to need each other here and there. They hang out and help each other because they unironically see each other as friends.
Illumi had no reason to help Hisoka out in the hunter exam, yet he did anyways. And they stayed together most of the time. Illumi had no reason to help Hisoka out during the yorknew dilemma, yet he did anyways. It's not even in his area of work to just disguise as people for a few hours before leaving. He's an assassin. Hisoka didn't have to help Illumi out during the election arc, Illumi was more than capable of finishing this entire mission alone. And yet he did anyways.
Goes without saying that Hisoka constantly calls Illumi his friend behind his back and also did so in front of him, and Illumi made no move to correct him.
So I can't really imagine, with all this said and done, that they'd actually have a reason to hunt and kill each other on the black whale. I understand the doubts with the stuff Illumi said in their marriage chapter but im still much more inclined to believe theyre working together against the troupe, as that would make much more sense. They've done nothing but work together against everyone in the entire anime and both Illumi and Kalluto worked against the troupe with Hisoka in yorknew after all.
I also feel like this is a general Hisoka misconception but-- Hisoka doesn't want to die. I feel like people think he hired Illumi to "hunt him down" because he wants Illumi to actually kill him and I have to disagree. Yes, it does speak volumes about what Hisoka thinks of Illumi, as in he truly is capable of killing him because theyre equals. But does Hisoka actually want Illumi to kill him right now? Negative.
Some people even say Hisoka has always wanted to go out in a huge fight or whatever-- I genuinely have no idea where tf they get that from lol. Hisoka brought himself back to life for a reason. He wants to live. He never planned on dying against Chrollo. He never ever plans on dying against people he fights. If Illumi and Hisoka were to ever truly fight, Hisoka would never let Illumi kill him without giving it his all. He WILL fight for his life.
And the same goes for Illumi. Illumi doesn't want to die and has no reason to want to actually die by Hisoka's hand. He has duties and responsibilities as a Zoldyck eldest and he's not going to throw it away in the name of... twisted love? lol
And I think lots of people find all of this hard to believe because theyre very used to villains getting bad endings or getting "what they deserve" in anime which is completely fair but let me, no, ALLOW ME to point you to one of my favorite villain groups in hxh that had a good ending despite being complete pieces of shit that would've deserved worse than death.
Genthru and the bomber team.
Genuine shitty people that scammed lied massacred people. They only cared about each other a lot but saw everyone else around them as lower than useless scum. They would've deserved to be left for dead. And yet, what happened? They were healed and they lived. They went on with their lives. Togashi could've very much made Gon just kill genthru to show how powerful he is and his sense of justice blablabla but that just isn't what the anime is about. Everyone in hxh is morally grey. At the end of the day Gon, Killua, and Bisky just wanted the cards from genthru and his friends and moved on.
A lot of people fail to realize this when it also comes to Hisoka and Illumi. They can just get a good ending like that. Do they deserve it? No. Does it matter whether they deserve it or not? Nope! This is hunter x hunter. And as far as I see it, its an anime about the power of platonic and romantic love. And Hisoillu are a specific type of love that is going to get a happy ending despite not even remotely deserving it. We got the meruem and komugi sad love ending. And we're getting the gay version of it except theyre unredeemable and horrible and they still get to be happy. Those are my thoughts.
Also in general I just genuinely cannot see Togashi continuing the anime without his favorite babygirl Hisoka being alive. Like even when he killed him off he revived him like 2 pages later in the same chapter he can't stand the idea of even letting his death marinate for a single chapter lmfaoooooooooo
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myfavouritelunatic · 3 days
Text
More Painful Sacrifices - Chapter Two
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Surprise! I was simply too inspired by episode six, I had to continue this! And I've already planned a third chapter as well haha.
Enjoy! ❤️
The clink of the shackle around Galadriel’s wrist rang in her pointed ears. A reminder of her imprisonment, that despite her ‘dinner’ with the orc leader, her freedom was not currently her own. Though this food was more appealing than the bowl of slop at least.
“We will speak again.” Adar uttered as he walked away, leaving Galadriel chained to her seat and staring almost vacantly at the table before her. She felt her mind spiralling, sent down into an endless abyss from which there was no escape. How could a creature such as Adar share a common experience with her? How could he know what it is that he made her feel? Another reason to add to the many of why Galadriel must see to Sauron’s end. And now, with Morgoth’s crown, the existence of the rings… that end might just be possible.
Though she felt… hollow. Breathless. Lifeless. The acknowledgment of the absence of Sauron in her every day… it had put a name to that heartache. And while Galadriel loathed that her and Adar had an understanding, it was strangely reassuring to know that the emptiness she felt was real.
It meant that what they had—
Was real.
“Get out of my mind!” Galadriel hissed at the disembodied voice in her head.
Then you do not wish me to stay? To fill the void my absence created?
“I wish for you to torment me no longer!”
I only want to heal you, Galadriel.
“Stop! Stop it! I am never going to come to you, to be at your side! Cease your futile efforts, Deceiver!”
Let me help.
“You have helped me enough. I am in pain with you, I am in pain without you, my world is forever changed, even more so than after you took my brother from me! I cannot go back to the life I once had because of you! But I would rather you be gone from me than hear your voice grind within my head!”
They still doubt you, Galadriel. Don’t they? They see no other path for you than the one I have laid at your feet. Why not take my hand and walk its way?
“You know very well why! Or are you not as clever as is told?”
Are you? All other roads are blocked to you. I know you do not wish to be alone. I felt it when we—
“No. Do not.” He flashed an image in her mind, the two of them on that log. The moment that haunted her still. Where he had her by the throat with an invisible grip.
Is it not this… feeling between us… is it not that which makes you barren?
“No.”
Remember how it felt, Galadriel. Remember all we did together. Remember how you felt when you looked in my eyes and saw me. Saw your kindred spirit. Saw at last… the one who would share your burden. Who understood your darkness. Remember how it felt. Remember what it awoke.
“Awoke?”
That part of you that had laid dormant so long. Your fëa began to sing, it began to call to me.
“What?”
It knew, the deepest part of you knew you had found what you were meant to find. And in that song a fire did spark, and in me it did rage, Galadriel. Can you feel the embers tickling your skin? Igniting your flesh like dry brush begging to be incinerated?
“Please… Halbrand… I cannot—"
“You can.” His voice whispered in her ear, coming from behind her, like a spectre summoned with the utterance of his name.
Even though it wasn’t his name. Not really.
And they weren’t Halbrand’s hands now either, but Galadriel felt them upon her shoulders, running slowly down her arms, stopping only when one hand came to rest atop her own, and the other hand grasped at her iron cuff.
He was here. Again. Visible only to her eye, but still feeling as if flesh before her.
“There would be no chance of chains with me, Galadriel.” “I beg to differ.” She replied staunchly. Sauron laughed lowly, a sound just for her. “Though… if you insisted…” He breathed on her neck, and the elf could feel, just as he said, her skin being incinerated. She gasped. “Stop resisting me. You only delay the inevitable.”
“Remove yourself from me. I beg you.” “Or what? All I am doing is giving you what you desire. I am the only one that can give that to you.” Sauron stated, before moving himself around to kneel at her side, in an almost gesture of submission. She kept staring ahead, desperately committing to memory every morsel of food upon the table. Doing anything to not see him. Anything to not spend a moment thinking about what desires his irresistible power could fulfill. “I am here for you, Galadriel. Not for myself.” “Deceit. Everything you do is to serve yourself.” “Look at me, Galadriel. Please.” She held fast and kept eyeing a particularly thick bone that had only a sliver of white meat remaining at its tip.
“Galadriel…” His voice fell to a whisper, which matched the ghosting touch of his hand that now moved across her thigh. She tensed. She heard gravel move. He had shifted closer to her, his hand now stretched across her lap, moving slowly across her other thigh, more firmly now. The she-elf still resisted. But then she felt something heavier come to rest upon her, and knowing only what it could be, she feared it. She feared more than ever to glance down at him.
For it would be her undoing.
“Galadriel…”
Halbrand’s voice. Why did it have to be Halbrand’s voice? His song calling back to her, telling her he was ready, that he wanted her equally. That the feeling between them was shared. He was so warm in her lap, it was as if she could feel the fire he spoke of, the flames within him that she had ignited.
She lifted up her free hand with the sudden intention to push Sauron off of her, but was taken aback by something she did not expect. The absence of her ring. Of Nenya. This was the hand upon which it had rested, this ring that had guided her. And even though it was gone now, there was a truth she could not deny.
It had lead her here.
To Adar.
And to Sauron. Just as she knew it would.
It was exactly as he said. Inevitable.
In that moment she finally let her eyes fall upon the beast in her lap. But a beast he was not. All he was, was Halbrand.
Galadriel began to cry.
She watched one of her tears land on his cheek, and he did nothing to brush it away. He only gazed up at her, smiling with that warmth that radiated within him. She could feel his thumb grazing her leg. “H-halbrand…” “Shhh… it’s alright. I’m here. At last.”
The hand she raised in hatred, was now brought down upon him in love, and even though he wasn’t truly here, she could feel him. She could feel all of him. His hair was so soft, and he sighed as she ran her hand through it. Halbrand nuzzled into her, and all the tension Galadriel had been carrying was suddenly released. She let go. She gave in.
She stopped resisting.
“What are we to do?” She asked him, her voice still trembling from the plethora of emotions spilling from her heart. “We will be together soon. Don’t worry.” Halbrand spoke softly into her belly. “But how?” “You need not know how, Galadriel. As long as you know when. That is all that matters.” He suddenly reached for her hand, pulling it down to his lips. His kiss scorched her and lingered like a scar. But it felt so good. She wanted more.
“I told you… what you felt… I can give it to you. If you’ll let me?”
She felt her desire begin to well up inside her, to the point of it expelling from her bright blue eyes, falling down into his heated pools of hazel. Galadriel watched as he kissed her palm this time, not breaking their shared gaze, and his tongue joined his lips to meet her flesh. The she-elf gasped, and Sauron smiled, before he vanished like he was never there.
Footsteps drew near.
The now familiar stalk of the father of the orcs.
Adar had returned.
But he would not find all of Galadriel waiting for him.
For Sauron had taken her heart.
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yolli-es · 1 day
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this is my first request can we please get a yandere jinx headcanons please
Yandere!Jinx × Reader ❤️‍🩹
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Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, abuse, mentions of death
This is my first request too, and I am SO HAPPY!! I've wanted to write about this for a long time, but it was difficult for me. Believe me, I broke my head typing all this.
Jinx lacked tenderness and care in her life.
Vi showed her support and love in Jinx's childhood; Silco did the same thing later... it's still not enough.
When Jinx lost Silko and her sister, who had just come back into her life, she was on the verge of death. Not a day went by without her crying, hysterics, and self-harming. It was horrible, painful, and pathetic.
She also took on a mountain of responsibility for which she was never prepared.
And then you appeared. So serious, responsible, and ready for anything. You came to her office and did all the dirty work.
And also very understanding, kind, and patient.
Having witnessed her breakdown, you were absolutely calm. You did not run away, stayed close and pulled her back together.
Even after Jinx's numerous outbursts at you, even after the hard work and all that crap, you stayed. By her side, with her curse.
You reminded her of Vi with your kindness and Silko with your devotion. All the best in one person.
No, more expensive than them.
How could she not become attached to you?
You are the center of her life, the main object of her attention.
It was becoming physically painful for Jinx to be away from you for longer than 8 hours.
Whenever you worked, she always found a reason to be there, justifying it with help or a simple check on the quality of work.
She also began to keep her emotions in check, often biting her lips until they bled just to keep the voices from getting the better of her.
Jinx pays no less attention to her "work" because she noticed how your eyes sparkle while she creates a new gadget or uses it in action.
Now she does all this for you. Just for you.
Jinx just wanted to seem normal to you. Better than what you had already seen. She didn't want to scare you or make you hate her.
That's why she will never admit that she is following you.
Unfortunately, you're not always willing to share your personal life with the "boss," so she had to take matters into her own hands.
Going to the store? She's in the shadow of the stores. Sitting at the bar? She's taken the table behind you. Sleeping in your house? She's outside the window, and in a couple of hours, next to your bed.
Jinx counted all the moles on your face.
She only felt guilty once, when she was spying on you in the shower.
Jinx knew it was wrong, but she just couldn't say "no" to herself then. Mylo made cruel jokes about her afterward.
But it's your own fault for never locking the doors, isn't it?
Now she knows the exact number of moles, scars, and birthmarks on your entire body.
Your things started disappearing, and yes, it was her doing.
Jinx just wanted to have a piece of you in her home.
But then, when Jinx was so deeply in love with you, something irreparable happened—truly terrible for Jinx.
You find a partner.
You didn't even Fucking tell her. She saw it for herself when you were kissing so dirty at the bar.
Jinx was scared. The voices started screaming.
"You've been abandoned again, traded again."
This is the point of no return. Jinx can no longer hold the boundaries.
She didn't want, no, she couldn't lose you like Silko and Vi. She's not an idiot, and twice was enough.
As soon as you are alone, Jinx knocks you out and takes you to her.
It seemed like she had been preparing for this before, like "just in case."
The first month was terrible. You were struggling and didn't want to listen to Jinx at all.
Jinx didn't even tie you up, leaving you to roam around the room freely. This caused problems, and every time Jinx had to fight you. It was shitty, she got seriously beaten by you every time because she couldn't respond properly so as not to hurt you.
She was understanding and patient, just like you were with her before this.
But as soon as you started talking about freedom, Jinx would break down.
She was so angry, screaming and clutching her head. She even brought a knife with her once.
Jinx even swung at you but never hit you. No, that's too hard. You don't deserve it.
Every time after that, she pulled her hair as punishment.
She didn't really want to keep you here, a secret from everyone. Jinx was crazy, but not stupid, and was perfectly aware of what she was doing. But she also couldn't risk it anymore.
What if you run away? What if you find someone again?
Jinx was just afraid of losing you. The thought made her shake and feel sick.
You didn't understand why she was doing this to you. You really loved Jinx, and now you're getting this?
Once you realize that Jinx is just scared, everything becomes easier.
Still, you came to work here just for her. A stupid affair in a bar shouldn't have hurt your baby blue so much.
When she came to you and heard a declaration of love instead of the usual "get lost," it made her freeze. And then smile.
She didn't believe it.
And then you stopped fighting with her, being rude, and seemed to be okay with Jinx's extra touching.
The moment of realizing that it was not a joke was the happiest and, at the same time, the most frightening.
Now she had no room for error and she thought about all the possible future failures. And then you kissed her and Jinx immediately melted. She managed to focus on you and not on her mistakes.
She had never done this before.
Finally, your relationship has become official.
It took you another week before you could finally get out of there. Jinx still didn't trust you completely, even though she tried.
Jinx's house is your home; if you need something, then she needs something too; if you go somewhere, then she goes too.
Jinx was also very clingy. Before, she held herself back and didn't allow herself to touch you unless absolutely necessary. Now, she can do it as much as she wants. She doesn't care where you are, when, or why; there is no wrong time for a hug, a kiss, or a light slap.
Finally, Jinx can ask you the weirdest, stupidest, most personal, and most lustful questions. You are a couple, after all, and that means she has the right to know everything about you.
And it doesn’t matter that she already knows most of your stories.
Jinx adores you and would do anything. But now she didn't trust the people around her at all.
Suspicious meetings with someone better than Jinx will be seen as blatant betrayal in her eyes. And believe me, she won't let it go that easily.
At times like these, she regrets that she gave you back your freedom.
At first, Jinx will be angry. She will definitely start a showdown, possibly right there on the spot.
Often this went beyond the boundaries of ordinary conversation, and Jinx just shot their limbs.
It's their own fault. Everyone knows Jinx, what's their problem?
But when you explain yourself, Jinx finally lets you see her real emotion.
In fact, Jinx is not confident at all. All the important people have left her; she won't survive another time.
Therefore, you are no longer allowed to communicate with anyone other than her.
A relationship with Jinx will be suffocating, but she will never make you feel lonely, unloved or unfulfilled. She also takes care of all your basic needs.
Jinx is one of those yandere who will resort to any manipulation and tricks just so you don't leave her. Otherwise, she will break, and you will definitely know about it.
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Your first sex will happen very quickly. What you expected from a touch-hungry girl?
Jinx has no experience at all, so she makes up for it with her energy. She kisses you, bites, pinches, and licks absolutely everything.
She will definitely leave hickeys on you. It's inevitable. 
When it comes to penetration, she suddenly becomes quiet and slow. She is just a little awkward and very scared. 
What if she hurts you? Or is it unpleasant? Or maybe you already feel disgusted by her? 
Kiss her, and it will give her confidence. Jinx will definitely squeeze her legs while you do it. 
When her hand finally reaches your pussy, it will trigger for her. 
It means so much more to her. 
Jinx's hand does a very good job of getting two fingers in at once and pressing on your clit. This is definitely too much for you, so Jinx will have to lean on top of you to keep you from pulling away from her. 
Kisses, kisses, kisses. There will never be enough. 
Jinx will also be very loud. She won't mind at all if everyone knows how good and pleasant it is for her to be with you. 
For the same reason, she will not kiss you on the lips; this will drown out your pleasant moans.
After the first time, Jinx is unstoppable. Now she's ready to fuck you anywhere and anytime. 
Often her initially innocent touches develop into hot sex.
Once you did it against a wall and Jinx held you. It surprised you, but she said that any of her guns would be heavier than you. 
Jinx is also not against experimenting in bed. 
Shibari is her favorite, and she gets better and better at it every time. 
But still, Jinx will never share you with someone. Don't even ask; the thought of it seriously pisses her off. 
Jinx loves to whisper in your ear, "You belong to me.". 
Do the same, and she will definitely get an orgasm.
Touch her as much as possible.
It might be a little rough; it's okay if you touch her. 
Playing with her hair not only calms Jinx down but also turns her on. 
No matter how wild and wayward Jinx is, she will always listen to you. She will definitely notice if you don't like something. 
Ask Jinx anything, and she will do it. 
Spank you? Jinx will make you count. Choke you? She'll be gentle with that. Threesome? NO.
Jinx adores and loves you and is very dependent on you. Sex is one of her ways to show you this. 
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I honestly think that Yandere!Jinx is canon Jinx in relationship. I'm also not sure that I wrote everything I wanted to.. I had to miss sleep but I'm just so happy for your support. Thank you. 🥹
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sonotpattismith · 5 hours
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my lost, fearless leader (Yuta Okkotsu x Reader)
As the men masqueraded, I hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’d learned, because love’s never lost once perspective is earned.
word count: 9k
warnings: angst, me never making it easy for poor Yuta
a/n: inspired by Peter by Taylor Swift. Lowkey a self-insert as I too am a therapist, tee hee. I hope y’all enjoy it, I absolutely love writing for Yuta even though I make him suffer every time 🥹🫶🏻
masterlist.
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Dear Okkotsu,
I know you only landed last week, but you left me with so many questions when you said goodbye. At the risk of sounding too forward, I thought for a moment that you would kiss me before you left. You had a look in your eye, one I’d never seen before, and I even thought I saw you square your shoulders like you were about to charge into battle.
Inumaki offered to give me your number when I asked about you, but I feared too quick of a response if I were to text you. After all, I love to torture myself. Somehow a letter felt safer, more disconnected. Still, I hope you have the time to write back to me while you’re out there growing as you so desperately wanted to.
You still have me in your corner here in Tokyo.
With kind regards,
L/N.
Dear L/N,
I hope this letter gets to you soon, though I know it has some way to go— I don’t want to leave you waiting again. I wondered if I should just text you, but you’re right, maybe this is best for wimps like me who were too scared to kiss the girl they like before traveling oceans away. There’s more courage in me hiding behind a pen than I ever had standing in front of you.
No matter how badly I wanted to show you how I felt, I didn’t feel worthy enough when I looked at that scar on your face— one I should have been able to prevent. There’s so much for me to learn about this world, and Gojo-Sensei says Kenya is where I need to be. I trust him implicitly, and I only hope here I’ll be able to grow into someone worthy of coming back to all of you at Jujutsu High. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I hope to become someone worthy enough to indulge myself in you as well.
I hope you can find it in you to wait for me all the way in your corner of Tokyo.
Respectfully,
Okkotsu.
Dear Okkotsu,
You were right, your letter did travel far, and after two weeks, I feared I may not ever hear back from you.
What happened with Geto Suguru wasn’t your fault, and, if I remember correctly, you were the one that saved all of us that night. It breaks my heart that you feel you don’t have a place here with us. I never thought you needed to prove yourself, and if that’s the only reason you went thousands of miles away— then you should board the next flight back over.
If I had known it was the scar on my face that stopped you, I would have covered it just for you. No one else around here is willing to take the blame for me when I break one of Maki’s spears— that alone should earn you a spot right beside me over here. Speaking of, I hope the bump on your forehead has gone down.
Luckily for the both of us, patience is my best virtue, but I do hope you don’t make me wait terribly long. You don’t have to be the strongest.
Holding my breath,
Y/N.
Dear L/N,
Maybe eventually I’ll work up the courage to call you, but our weeks of waiting in between will just have to do for now.
I think you’re beautiful— regardless of your scar, and I hope I didn’t send the wrong message when I said it’s what stopped me. I only meant that it reminded me of the kind of guy that deserves your attention, one that has brought about more good than he has bad in his life.
I’ve hurt so many people, and it wouldn’t be right of me not to try to make up for the wrongs I’ve caused. It’s only been a month, but Miguel has taught me so much, and I’ve seen so many wonderful things. I’m not sure if you’re interested, but I’m sending you some pictures of all my favorite parts.
I hope Maki has been merciful to you, and, yes, my bump is gone. Still, the little scar there reminds me of you each time I see it. So, I suppose I should thank her.
We’ve been talking so much about me, but I want to hear how you’re doing back in your corner of the world. How have your classes been going? I almost miss hearing everyone arguing with Gojo-Sensei every morning.
I don’t want to be the strongest, but I want to be strong enough to be worthy of you. The last thing I want is to keep you waiting too long, but however long it takes for me to be able to make a mark on those who have shown such faith in me.
Thinking of you,
Okkotsu.
Dear Yuta,
Surely that’s not you in that picture beside the giraffe? It’s only been two months— what are they feeding you over there? I had to do a triple take. You look well, Okkotsu.
I’m starting to wonder if it’s really you behind that ink. You were never so bold when you were here. Do you have a ghostwriter? I have my doubts, but I still hope all those thoughtful words really are coming from you.
I can see how hard you’ve been working, and I hope you’re beginning to find in yourself the pride I and all us here at home have always had in you. I don’t think anyone blames you for the unfairness that’s clung to you thus far, and no one expects you to make up for any of it— at least I know I don’t. If you really insist on doing so though, maybe you can start by giving me a call every once and a while? I’m sure you're busy, but I’d love to hear your voice again.
Classes have been going well. We’re almost going into our second year now, and everyone still talks so fondly of you. We wish you were here to start the year with us. I certainly miss having someone who was equally as clueless when it came to this world— it felt like you were the last shred of normalcy I was hanging onto. It’s okay though, I suppose I have some growing to do too.
Also, you don’t need to be so formal with me, I think you’ve earned the first name basis. Unless of course, you need to build up the courage for that, too.
I only felt it was fair to send some pictures of all of us here as well— though they’re nowhere near as badass as your safari photos. Please keep sending them— I’ll cherish the ones I have here for now though.
Still waiting for you,
Y/N.
Three months following Yuta’s departure from Tokyo, you first received an actual call from him. You had just turned in for the night, muscles aching from the mission you and Maki had just returned from only an hour or two prior. Truthfully, you were having a difficult time with the added responsibility that was accompanying your new year at Jujutsu High. Last year, at the very least, you had Yuta there who seemed on a fairly level playing field with you. Still, he held more of a determination to move forward in his life as a sorcerer than you did. After your encounter with Geto Suguru that had left you partially blinded in your right eye, it was difficult for you to find that gusto you had when you first arrived.
The deep lulls of slumber had just begun to penetrate your exhausted mind, and you could swear a more pleasant dream was just beyond your reach. When your phone began vibrating underneath your still cool pillow, your brows furrowed at the intrusion. The sound caused an electric-like jolt in your body that had you shooting up as if someone had just pulled the fire alarm. Calming your racing heart, you reached down to snatch the device up. Your eyes squinted to adjust to the blue light emitting from the screen, and you saw a number you didn’t recognize. Under the caller location though, it indicated that it was coming from Kenya.
Sitting up with a gasp, you gaped down at the device, uncertain excitement bubbling in your stomach and up your chest. Without a second thought, you swiped to answer the call. Amidst your anticipation of who you thought might be on the other line, you forgot to greet the caller.
“Um… uh- hello?”
A smile spread across your cheeks at the sound of his timid voice.
“A call from Kenya,” You began teasingly, your voice still hoarse from sleep. “I wonder who it could be.”
There was an abrupt shuffling on the other line, and you could already picture him pacing around whatever space he was currently occupying.
“You got me!” Yuta quipped nervously, quickly checking the time on his phone upon hearing the sleepy tone that laced your voice. It wasn’t too late over in Tokyo, and he figured if he didn’t call you now while he still had the nerve to do it, he never would. Okkotsu had determined during his time in Kenya that his confidence somehow peaked right after a successful mission. Naturally, this was when he calculated it would be the best time to call you with the lowest possibility of making a stuttering fool of himself. “Di-Did I wake you? I can call back another-”
“After you took three months to gather all that courage up?” You joked with a fond smile, reaching down to toy with the corner of your pillow. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “I think I can stay up for a few minutes.”
He was grateful, so eternally grateful that you couldn’t see the way the blood rushed up his neck and into his face. Pressing a cool hand against his cheek as if it would make the heat die down, he forced himself to sit on the edge of his bed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It had been too long already since he last spoke, and the silence on the call was becoming overbearing as he thought of anything to say.
“You there, Yuta?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh-- still here.” The boy chuckled pathetically, pounding his balled up fist against his thigh, willing himself to quit being such a loser. Shooting up to begin his short trek around his room once again, he took a deep breath. “I-I wanted to thank you. You know, for writing to me the past few months. I think they’ve been kind of motivating me, actually.”
“Yeah?” You smiled, lying back down on your pillow to stare stupidly up at the ceiling of your dorm. In hearing that shy voice that you had been missing for so long, you had forgotten about the aching, abused muscles that had been assaulting you just minutes prior. In its place was the rushing endorphins of your child-like crush on the boy on the other line. “So, when you come back strong enough to beat Sensei’s ass, I can take partial credit, right?”
His soft laugh filled your once silent room, inciting the overwhelming butterflies in your stomach to erupt in a fluttering haze.
“It’ll all be you.” Yuta joked halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his neck in relief that he’d gotten past the awkward silence unscathed. He flopped back down onto his bed and looked out the window at the slowly setting sun. “Uh… speaking of Sensei, how is everything over there? The exchange event is coming up soon, right?”
This made your smile slowly wane.
“Yeah, it’s next month. There was some drama with the first years, but everyone else seems to be pretty excited.”
“Everyone else? It sounds like you’re not including yourself in there.”
You sighed gently. Yuta was always so determined about growing as a sorcerer, so these types of events were always right up his alley. Not to mention the manner in which he absolutely wiped out the sister school at last year’s event. It actually caused a bit of second-hand embarrassment to watch the whole ordeal play out— no matter how quickly it concluded. After the atrocities of the past few months though, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be excited for the goodwill event.
It wasn’t that long ago that you watched all your friends meet near death at the hands of Suguru Geto, and you weren’t too far behind. They had all seemingly moved on from it all so fast— all of them except for Yuta Okkotsu. It seemed that all it had done was given him more ammunition to spark his journey of self discovery. You wished it had had the same effect on you. In truth though, all it sparked was a fear that your life, along with your friends, was constantly at the mercy of a crueler fate than most your age would be subjected to.
It felt wrong. Yuta shouldn’t have felt the need to bear the weight of you and your friends’ injuries all on his own. He shouldn’t have needed to go off to search for some unknown answer to all the insecurities his grueling life had thrust upon him. Still, it was so important to him. You could see the way it gave him purpose, a will to keep going despite all that he’d been through. It wasn’t his fault, but you always wished you could have found that same purpose within slaying curses and putting your life on the line.
A soft call of your name on the other line pulled you from your self-depricating thoughts. Shaking your head, you attempted to lighten the mood.
“Last name again? So formal. I thought we were past that, Okkotsu.”
“Oh-- right, sorry.” He stammered out before trying your first name out on his lips. It was delicate in the way it rolled off his tongue, sending warmth straight through your chest. Recalling your sudden silence once his nerves subsided, his lips pulled pensively into a thin line. “Um, have you been doing okay? You know, since…”
Brows rising just a hair, you were shocked at how easily he read through your sudden change in tone. Your lip quivered into a slight frown. A deep breath was suddenly pushing down that biting urge you had to tear up.
“Yeah, I’ve been okay. Just… wish you were still here is all.” You confessed into the dark, lonely dorm room. “I think you were the only one who understood how overwhelming this all was.”
Yuta felt his chest constrict at your earnest confession. Part of him felt guilty for not being there, but he knew deep down that he was doing the right thing by building himself up before he allowed himself to come back— especially to you. Still, the boy knew where you were coming from. It wasn’t easy being the newcomer in a world where your peers had a fifteen year head start on.
The two of you understood each other—empathized with one another. You both strived to make sure the other was doing okay; whether that be sneaking out late at night to practice with one another in hopes you both wouldn’t make fools of yourselves in training the next day, or just being someone that the other could glance knowingly at when one of your classmates mentioned something it seemed that everyone else was privy to, except you two.
“I’m getting stronger everyday.” Yuta offered earnestly, a soft, empathetic smile playing on his lips— the kind you could just hear through his gentle tone. “And I know you are too. We’re gonna kick some major butt one day, y’know?”
The boy was relieved when your glittering laugh filled his speakers, and he found himself laughing along with you. A comfortable silence blanketed over you two, and for a moment it felt as though you were laying right beside him, your gentle breaths lighting a fire within his soul. The courage that he thought he had lost upon hearing your voice for the first time in months was slowly flooding back to him, and he began pensively rolling his bottom lip between his fingers.
“Hey,” Okkotsu called out feebly, resting his hand down on his chest and feeling his heart pounding against his fingers. Reaching down to your discarded letter beside him, he picked up the picture you’d sent along with it. It was of all the second years, and he wondered with a smile if you had Gojo-Sensei take it for you all, and, if so, how much he complained about not being included. You stood in the middle of Inumaki and Maki, Panda standing proudly and towering behind you. His thumb reached out to graze softly over your face. In the photo, one of your hands was teasingly covering your right eye, and he blushed as he remembered your earlier conversation about that scar. You hummed in acknowledgment on the other line. “Did you mean it? You know… when you said you’d wait for me?”
“Did you mean it when you said you were gonna come back for me?” You countered quickly.
Yuta exhaled nervously, the churning in his chest making him feel as though he might pass out. Staring back at your smiling face in the photo, he nodded breathlessly.
“Of course, I meant it. I meant every word.”
“Then so did I.”
Yuta Okkotsu’s reassuring promise helped ground you in your studies of jujutsu for a while longer, but you could still feel the aching insistence in the back of your mind that told you this wasn’t where you were meant to be. Your friendship with the sorcerer continued to grow even over the thousands of miles that separated you. He’d call you whenever he had the chance to, and you’d text him about updates on what all his friends had been up to without him. Although both Inumaki and Maki kept up with him regularly, he allowed you to retell stories he’d more often than not already heard from them.
He could tell that you were struggling to find and hold your place as a sorcerer. You always listened enthusiastically when he’d tell you about the new techniques he was learning or the missions he’d been sent on, nodding along on the other line and hanging onto every word he said. Still, when he’d await to hear the progress of your training or how your latest mission had gone, you didn’t have the same enthusiasm in your tone.
It had been almost a year since he’d been gone. The two of you had never implicitly discussed the nature of your relationship, but your lingering promise to each other seemed to be enough to keep your hearts locked safely away for the other’s return. As the months dragged on though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth staying in the world of jujutsu that seemed to so expertly traumatize you and your peers.
You insisted on video calling him for once, eager to once again put a face to the voice that had been filling your every night for the past few months. Maybe, you thought to yourself, if you saw those warm, inviting eyes again paired with that timid smile, you’d find it in you to hold out just a bit longer.
“Ca-Can you see me?” Yuta’s ever anxious voice filled your quiet room once again. The palm of his hand briefly covered the camera before it was moved away, and it appeared as though he had propped you up on a dresser of some sort. He stepped back, hunching over so his face was still in the frame, staring hesitantly into the screen.
A brief exhale of disbelief left you at the sight of him. He had changed so much over the past year; from the inches he’d sprouted up, to the new broadness of his lean shoulders, right down to his more maturely parted hair as it swayed in his face. His features appeared sharper than when you’d last seen him, a testament to how much he’d grown physically as well as mentally. The dark circles you remember being everpresent under his long, midnight-blue eyes seemed even more pronounced now, and you wondered just how hard this Miguel character had been working him. Despite his apparent lack of sleep though, he grinned cheerfully upon seeing your face.
Forgoing your previous concern, an ecstatic smile of your own lit up your face as you took him in. You had always thought he had a sort of innocent, gentle cuteness to him, but time and knowledge seemed to have morphed those characteristics into the sharp, hauntingly striking ghost of the boy you once knew presented before you. For the first time since knowing him, you thought you felt more nervous than he did at the moment.
“Wow! You look--” He paused, a slight flush filling his face, and suddenly he was that timid boy again, staring down at you with the false promise of a kiss. Your heart melted at the sight. Yuta was still looking nervously back at you, mouth hanging open as if his mind was running faster than his tongue could process. You raised your brows expectantly at him, hiding your amused smile. “Uh—pretty! You— you look really pretty.”
A soft blush fell across your cheeks.
“Thanks, Yuta.” You laughed softly, eyes fluttering across his face admiringly. “You look like you’ve… grown.”
“Oh, me?” He laughed skittishly, hand coming up to rustle through his jet black locks. His brows were furrowed slightly as he looked down at his own appearance as if he was only just now noticing the growth spurt he’d had in the past year. “Yeah! I guess—”
“Is that blood on your shirt?” You suddenly noticed, leaning forward so your squinting eyes could get a better look at the dark matter that clung to his white top. His eyes shot up to meet yours, and in an instant, his fumbling hands were working to unbutton his uniform shirt. It was no use though, the white t-shirt underneath was also stained through.
“Sorry, I just got back from a mission.” He admitted dejectedly, grabbing the phone and sitting on the floor, resting his back against the bed behind him. “I would’ve showered, but I didn’t want to keep you up too late.”
You sat back against your headboard tentatively. It was incredible to you how he was never phased by the violence and bloodshed that shrouded this lifestyle. There were so many nights that you lay awake, eyes unblinking as you tried to forget the horrors you’d witnessed just long enough to get some sleep.
“How do you do it, Yu?” You asked timidly.
Yuta took in the way your wide eyes glimmered with the threat of unspilled tears. There it was again— that underlying fear in your tone and demeanor that told him that something wasn’t quite right, and it hadn’t been right since you came so close to death.
“What do you mean, love?” He wasn’t sure where that term of endearment came from, maybe from the concern that had been pooling in him for months and had now suddenly burst upon seeing that broken look in your eyes. Either way, it was too late to take it back now.
“Act like everything’s normal when you come home covered in blood and guts and watch people die— watch your friends—”
“I’m doing this for my friends.” His response had a defensive edge to it, but his wide eyes were gentle, taking in your vulnerable state carefully. “And for the people I’ve had to watch die. Bad things will happen whether I’m a part of them or not. How can I sit back and do nothing when that’s all I’ve done my entire life?”
You suddenly felt small in your corner of the world. He was selfless, fearless, purposeful in his mission as a sorcerer, and you couldn’t fault him for it. Moreso, you faulted yourself for lacking that same drive.
“I just– sometimes I feel like this isn’t for me. I’m not like you, Yuta. I don’t think I’m strong enough for this. I’m not strong enough for this.”
Yuta continued to insist upon believing in your growth, just as you had believed in his. His persistence in your strength of character only served to break your heart more. You knew the deeper his faith in you ran, the more crushing his disappointment would be when you inevitably let him down. In the weeks following your dismayed conversation with him, you weren’t answering his calls as often, afraid he would be on the other line hoping to hear of your growth and the things you’d overcome— but you had none to show for. You usually texted him with false excuses that you were on a mission, or that you were simply too tired to talk that night. No matter how hard you tried to pride yourself in your little victories, your faith in your abilities as a sorcerer was waning quickly before your eyes.
He had always said that he was the one undeserving of his place in this world— of his place beside you. The stronger he grew though, the more you only noticed the opposite.
It was a month after your phone call that you received a small package from Kenya, recognizing the stamp immediately as one of the various animal themed ones Yuta seemed to keep stockpiled just for you. Chewing at your bottom lip, a sense of guilt washed over you, knowing you hadn’t been keeping up with him as much as you once did. Despite this, he continued to try, desperate to get through to you somehow before you slipped from between his fingers all together.
Ripping open the orange, padded envelope, you overturned the contents onto your bed. The wooden beads of a bracelet clacked softly against one another as they fell upon the comforter, a letter landing gently atop it. You ran your fingers along the thin bracelet, thinking maybe if you concentrated long enough, you’d be able to feel the warmth of his fingers lingering from when he’d carefully placed it into the envelope for you. You picked up the accompanying letter.
Dear Y/N,
It seems like they’ve been keeping you really busy over there in your corner of the world! I had so much I wanted to tell you, but I thought maybe it’d be best to put it all into a letter so you could read it at a time that’s best for you.
Gojo-Sensei says that I’ll probably be coming back soon, maybe in the next couple of months even. If all goes well, I hope to be joining everyone for our final year. It’d be nice to all be together again. It’d be nice to actually see you again.
You don’t have to tell me everything, but I know you’ve been going through a hard time recently, and I’m sorry I’m not there to help you. You were wrong the other night on the phone— you are stronger than you think. This life isn’t easy, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not fit for it just because it hurts you right now.
When I felt I had no strength left in me to keep going, it was you who lent me some of yours until I could stand again. I’m sending it back to you now, so please use it to keep moving forward until I can lend you some of mine. Please, keep waiting for me.
The beads on the bracelet I sent you represent all the things I wish for you. The red represent bravery and strength, the kind I know you have in you still. Until you find them though, let these be a reminder. The yellow are for growth, and until you can see it coming your way, let these motivate you.
I got one just like it for myself, so I can be reminded everyday of the things I love about you. I’ll keep it on me always, and I hope as you’re waiting that you’ll do the same.
Still yours,
Yuta.
Tears were streaming freely down your cheeks and staining the precious letter before you. With wobbling lips, you bit back a quiet sob as you carefully slipped the thin bracelet onto your wrist. Strength. Bravery. Growth. They were all pillars that seemed so far away from you, but Yuta was convinced you held them just within your grasp. If anything, the beads would serve as a reminder that someone important was counting on you, and you’d rather suffer the uphill battle than disappoint him.
The next morning, you woke early to speak with Gojo. He was lounging lazily in his large, plush chair, laptop sat carelessly on his lap when you came in. As if expecting you all along, he looked up from his bored typing to offer a sly smile— the type that told you he was always steps ahead of you.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gojo greeted, closing his laptop and setting it haphazardly on his desk. Leaning back, he laced his fingers casually in his lap, jutting his chin toward the seat in front of him.
Hesitantly, you sat down. Your posture was rigid as you stared back at his half-covered face. Although your sensei had never given you a reason to fear him, you couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of how he might react to your request.
“I… I don’t know how to say this.”
He stayed silent, allowing you to collect your thoughts. The small smile tugging at his lips said he already knew what was plaguing your mind. Fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, you were reminded of the importance that you stand your ground here.
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for being a sorcerer.” It was out there, and it hung heavily in the air around you. Looking down at your twiddling fingers, you felt that familiar lump building in your throat. Your sensei was silent before you. Glancing up at him through tear soaked eyes, you shrugged your shoulders in defeat. “I’m not like the others. I can’t bounce back like they do. It scares me; the death, the fighting, the loss— it terrifies me, Gojo. I can’t do it anymore. I-I just—”
“You’ve been struggling for a while now, haven’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question— an observation he’d been holding onto for some time. The older man wasn’t oblivious, he could see when his students were beginning to slip away; physically and mentally.
“How did you know?” You briefly wondered if Yuta had mentioned something to him during their regular check in calls, but you doubted it.
Standing abruptly from his chair, he strolled leisurely around the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“You remind me of someone, is all.” Gojo’s cryptic message left more questions than answers. Though you had grown used to his dodgy answers and coded messages, now was really not the time. Before you could express your annoyance, he continued. “You’re not stuck, you know.”
Your mouth hung open as you stared at him in disbelief. Standing up to face him as he stared out the window, your mind was racing at the possibilities.
“You mean— I could leave? Just like that?”
“Just like that. I’d talk to the higher ups today for you if that’s really what you want.” Still, the edge in his tone indicated that he wasn’t about to let you off that easily. As if sensing your apprehension, he tilted his head playfully toward you, a fond smile on his face. “I’ve seen what this gig can do to people. I don’t need to see you fall victim to it too.”
“I mean— I…” You were stumbling over your words. For the past few years, you were sure that your future was set for you— one you were apprehensive about living, but one that was secure nonetheless. Where would you go from here?
Gojo hummed pensively— invitingly. God, how you wished he would just spit out what he clearly wanted so desperately to say. Of course, he always wanted his students to come to their own conclusions, set their own fates.
“The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.” The sensei announced dramatically, taking another lap around the room. You shivered at the mention of that night. He leaned toward you with a raised brow. “That’s when this all started, am I right? You almost died, if I remember correctly.”
“I would have if it hadn’t been for—”
“Yuta Okkotsu.” He cut you off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, and for a moment you thought you saw his head tilt down as if to look at the bracelet you were currently rolling between your fingers. Nodding softly, he continued. “Still, you cut it pretty close. Must have been traumatizing. Partially lost your sight, almost lost your friends, your life.”
You nodded silently, unsure of where he was going with this long winded rant. Of course, him giving you a simple out was just too easy for Gojo-Sensei’s ‘everything is a life lesson’ style of teaching.
“Tell you what, why don’t I set up a meeting for you to meet with a counselor? Someone who specializes in all our creepy-crawly problems?”
“Like… like therapy?” You questioned with furrowed brows. A therapist for sorcerers? You didn’t even know such a thing existed. Still, the prospect sparked a certain hope in your chest, one that the six eyes saw instantly. He didn’t bother to conceal his victorious smile.
“Yup. Nice, comfy couch and everything.” He advertised as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His long fingers began typing purposefully against the screen before he looked up at you again. “Of course, she’s kind of running a one-man show, so her schedule is pretty tight. I can pull a few strings for you though.” His words rang in your mind with a faint echo. That suggestive, underlying tone in his voice, it was beginning to seep through, and your gut was telling you his suggestion was a lot more calculated than you would ever give him credit for. “That kind of work is in high demand, you know— what with all the new curses popping up since Itadori came along.”
Gojo was continuing to drop hints, but you had already heard him loud and clear. This was something he thought you could do— somewhere he knew you would fit within this hectic world. As a teacher, it was his job to train the up and coming sorcerers for the perils that lay ahead of them. In the same prospect though, he had also become incredibly adept at discovering their potential and nudging them toward it— even if it wasn’t as gently as he thought.
The following week you met with the therapist Gojo had supposedly pulled so many strings to get you in to see. She had a small office just minutes away from the school, and you wondered why she wasn’t on campus. She hadn’t suggested it to you first, though she was well aware of what Gojo was trying to do when he set up this meeting. So, amidst your explanation of everything you had been experiencing since that night, you dropped in questions. How did she know this was the right path for her— how closely did she work with Jujutsu High— how did she get where she was?
By the gentle and encouraging manner in which she answered all of your questions, you had a gut feeling once again that Gojo had already been three steps ahead of you. You were set to transfer out of Jujutsu High the following week. Your sensei funded your education through an outside university, who’s higher ups had connections with the school. Kaori, the god-sent sorcerer counselor who’d seemingly fallen from the heavens right when you needed her, was more than happy to take you under her wing as well. In truth, she was relieved to have some help around the office given the influx of referrals she’d been receiving recently.
Everything had been falling into place, yet there was still one last loose end you had yet to tie up from your life as a sorcerer. You looked down at the box of letters you’d kept over the past year or so from Yuta. Following his last letter, and how determined he seemed to be that you would make it as a sorcerer— you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you had given up. After everything he’d done to grow himself into the man he was now, a fearless and loyal sword to his friends and the innocent— and you had given up. In the end, despite his insistence that it was him not worthy enough to stick around, you realized it had been you all along.
You weren’t worthy of Yuta Okkotsu.
Your trembling finger hovered over his contact, but you couldn’t do it. Clicking your phone off, you stared up at the ceiling of your now empty dorm room and allowed the hot tears to burn your cheeks, dripping down your neck and into the hem of your shirt. He was still finishing up his training, growing into a man he could be proud of, experiencing the things that made him feel alive. It would be selfish of you to drop this on him now.
Setting down the box on your desk, you pulled out a spare sheet of paper and sat down to draft your last prose to Yuta Okkotsu.
Dear Yuta,
By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you will have already heard about my departure from Jujutsu High. I wanted to call you and tell you everything that’s been on my mind, to give you a proper goodbye, but I didn’t want to interrupt your progress overseas.
I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. I’ll cherish each bit of it as long as I live. You kept me holding on through my lowest points, even if it wasn’t the life of sorcery that I was holding onto.
I know I’m cowardly, but I just couldn’t look you in the eyes and tell you that I had given up. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to hold your place here, and I suppose a part of me feels foolish for giving mine up so easily.
Your passion for undoing the wrongs in this world is so beautiful, and although I couldn’t share it with you, it only ever made me love you more. Please never take it for granted. Continue to fight to hold your place here, because you hold more power than you could ever come to know. I can feel it, even when you’re not here.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t wait for you.
Forever yours,
Y/N
When Yuta Okkotsu arrived back at Jujutsu High three months later, he had already been sitting on the news of your departure for two weeks. His friends thought it best to at least prepare him for when he returned, but he figured so much when you stopped responding to his calls and messages. No amount of preparation could have stopped the hole from opening up in his chest upon reading the letter you’d left in his dorm room. It sat neatly on his untouched pillow— a ghost that haunted him the second he stepped in.
He tried with fervor to be excited for his return, smiling along half heartedly when his friends shoved a party hat on his head and insisted upon celebrating all the birthdays they’d missed. Those haunting blue eyes only stared lifelessly at the cake before him, his soul still sat on the edge of his bed where he’d read your letter.
Forever yours.
Yuta wondered if those simple two words meant the door was open for him to swing in and come find you as he so ardently promised he would. Gojo-Sensei said you were happy though— working toward your place in the world. It was one he no longer felt he had a place in— not when his life consisted so wholly of the very things you were running from.
Months passed, and the both of you tried so desperately to move on. Despite being content in the roots your lives had sprouted, there was always a missing piece that stopped the both of you from blossoming. You always held your breath in hopes he’d come back to you like he said he would, and he always hoped you were still waiting for him despite his insistence that you were happier without him. The both of you were only kids when you’d carelessly thrown out such a vow, after all.
Gojo felt whole-heartedly confident in his whim to have Kaori train you. There was a spark in you, one that wanted to heal those that this world had so carelessly wounded, even if that meant you having to heal yourself first. In the end, it was the right decision, and he prided himself in the fact that there was a happy medium to keep your talents within the jujutsu world still while also fulfilling your purpose. There was a missing piece of the puzzle that lingered ever present though, and that was the infuriating case of you and Yuta Okkotsu.
It was getting depressing— watching the boy mope around pretending to not have the very obvious chip on his shoulder all the damn time. Your old sensei still kept up with you and your progress often, seeing as the school worked closely with Kaori to refer in need sorcerers on a regular basis. Each time he’d pop in for a visit or called unexpectedly, you’d always ask how everyone back at the school was doing. Sure, you really did hope your old friends were doing okay, but you were really holding your breath for when he’d mention Yuta. Gojo always spoke of him so highly, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly each time, thinking of how proud you were at how much he’d accomplished— just as he said he would. Still, the six eyes never missed that morose glimmer in your eye as you’d nod along to his stories.
“Have you ever tried sleeping at night, or are those dark circles just a part of you now?”
Yuta was snapped from his stupor when his sensei dropped unceremoniously beside him as he looked on at his friends ahead of him. As if having just been reminded of his perpetual exhaustion, he reached up subconsciously to rub at those aforementioned dark eyes.
“Oh, haha,” Yuta’s halfhearted attempt at a laugh only served to drive Gojo’s purpose right home. “Yeah, guess my sleep schedule never really adjusted back to normal, huh?”
“You aren’t performing like you should be, Okkotsu.”
He gaped exasperatedly at his sensei, blinking a few times as if maybe he just hadn’t heard him correctly. Frankly, he had been kicking ass lately, and everyone around him knew it too. Still, if Gojo-Sensei was telling him he was falling behind, it was seemingly the only opinion that mattered. Even if it wore him down till only his skeleton remained, he would keep getting better until he could prove himself to the man who took a chance on him.
Already picking up on the look of determination on the boy’s face, Gojo put out a solemn ‘slow your roll’ hand in front of him. Sighing in amusement, the sensei thought the boy would crush a semi-truck between his hands if it’d make him grow— meant he could prove himself.
“Your mind isn’t here. Hasn’t been since you got back. I can tell, you know.”
Okkotsu’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. No matter how much he worked to train physically, to learn to control his cursed energy and techniques, there was always that one lingering barrier that seemed to keep him from reaching his potential. Of course, he knew he had been more distracted since your departure, but he figured— hoped— it would pass eventually. He thought maybe if he ignored it long enough, pushed down that frenzy to rip his hair out by the roots and bellow out every frustration he’d held in for allowing her to slip away, each day as the urge melted away into dreams of her at night that woke him with a crater in his chest— maybe eventually it would fade just as she did.
“Try to get some rest, clear your mind. Do what you gotta do.” Gojo emphasized, leaning down to tower over his apprehensive prodigy with a knowing smile. His covered eyes flicked down to where Yuta’s fingers were rolling the beads of his colorful bracelet pensively. He hummed in amusement. “You know, I know someone who has that same bracelet.”
His student perked up ever so subtly upon hearing this. The prying man quickly moved to grasp his wrist and inspect the bracelet closer. It made Yuta feel exposed, wanting to crawl under his covers and not come out again if it meant no one else would lay their eyes on the one connection he still had to you. Gulping thickly, he snatched his wrist back, covering the wooden jewelry protectively under his other hand.
“Oh, you know her, don’t you?” Satoru feigned remembrance, snapping his fingers dramatically. “She used to go here.”
The stunned boy stammered out your name in question. It still felt so natural, so effortless rolling off of his tongue despite the prolonged period that had passed since he’d uttered those syllables.
“Yeah! Saw it on her just last week.”
All the blood seemed to drain from Yuta Okkotsu’s face. His wide, haunting eyes suddenly transfixed hazily on the smiling man before him in a manner that would have been terrifying had it been directed at a stranger. You still wore the bracelet he got you? The prospect had his mind spinning, and his stomach churning anxiously. The poor guy looked as though he would short circuit at any moment; brows twitching into a deep furrow, the corners of his lips fluttering in uncertainty. He blinked a few times before looking up at his sensei with a new sense of determination clouding his eyes.
“Where did you say she went?”
Bingo!
The clock’s ticking mocked you menacing as you raced to finish your assessment notes within the hour. Kaori was always merciful with you, understanding that you were still learning and would likely take more time with things, but you couldn’t help but urge yourself to do better. It had been almost a year that you had been studying while working alongside the counselor, and you had blossomed in a way you never thought would have been possible. Granted, you weren’t able to do any of what you had lovingly labeled as ‘the fun stuff’ yet, you had adjusted surprisingly well to the countless intake assessments and documentation your mentor had entrusted you with. Of course, it wasn’t the same as having a second counselor there with her, but anything helped ease the weight of her overwhelming caseload. She knew it was good experience for you too.
Despite her hectic schedule, Kaori still found time to meet with you often to check in regarding the struggles that brought you to her in the first place, insisting it would be a crucial step in your training as well. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to rebuild that confidence in yourself and your own purpose in this monstrous world. It felt cathartic, being a part of the process of healing for those torn down by the very things that hurt you so long ago as well. It was meaningful— fulfilling. You wondered if this was how Yuta felt when he was out there, helping people as well, just in his own way. A sharp pang struck you each time your mind wandered too far though, and you were always quick to reel it back in.
Your bottom lip was caught ruthlessly between your teeth, and it seemed the clacking of your keyboard was fighting against the ticking of the clock for dominance. A small spark of defeat struck you as you heard the door of the office creak open. Looking up at the time, your brows furrowed in confusion. You were sure that you had already completed the last intake Kaori had scheduled for you today. Scrambling into the drawer beside you to pull out a new form, you hoped you would at least look somewhat prepared whenever the unexpected patient came to your desk.
“Hi, there!” You called out from your tucked away cubicle, fumbling to save the document you were working on. “I’m back here, you can come on in.”
Slow footsteps approached closer and closer before pausing in front of your desk. Pushing the hair from your eyes, you looked up with a warm, inviting smile.
Oh.
The smile on your face slowly faded as Yuta Okkotsu towered over your desk. It wasn’t the version of him you once knew; this one was taller, more refined, more calculated with the manner in which he held himself. His wide, midnight-blue eyes regarded you carefully, but his face revealed nothing. Your mouth opened and closed pathetically, your mind desperately trying to catch up with the way your day had suddenly progressed. Stepping forward, he calmly sank down into the chair in front of you, hands gripping the arms casually.
“Yu—”
“I heard you offer counseling for sorcerers, right?” He was suddenly smiling sweetly at you, but there was a controlled glint in his eyes— holding him back. Not allowing you to respond, he continued. “Well, I have some things to get off my chest, so it’s lucky I found you, huh?”
You sank back into your chair, allowing the papers in your hands to slip from your fingers and swoosh softly onto the desk. Nodding gently, you urged him to go on, anxiety balling up in the pit of your stomach. He launched off on a long-winded story, one you already knew like the back of your hand— you lived it, after all. Your already knowing the climax didn’t stop the furious blush that overtook you as he recalled the letter he’d found in his dorm upon his arrival back to Tokyo.
“She always had this sweet way of signing off all her letters to me.” Yuta recounted with a soft smile, eyes glimmering as they looked back at you. Yours, on the other hand, were holding back the dam of tears that had been building up for countless months. As the first tear slipped down your cheek, you saw his resolve start to crumble, gaze chasing the drop as it raced down your skin. His bottom lip trembled. “She signed that last one— she signed it off ‘forever yours’, but I never saw her again.”
“Yuta—”
“Why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t happy?” He finally snapped, his own tears swimming in his eyes. Bracing his hands on the desk, he leaned forward desperately. “I would’ve understood, I would’ve—”
“I tried! I tried to tell you, but you were so sure that I was going to get through it. How was I supposed to look you in the eyes after you gave up so much of your life to train to be better? How was I supposed to tell you I was giving up?”
“You promised me!” His cry rang out in the quiet office, shoving his chair back to stand over you once again. You heard Kaori’s office door open abruptly, likely startled by the perceived altercation. Despite his dominating presence and lingering stance, you couldn’t find it in you to be intimidated by him. You shook your head softly toward your mentor, letting her know you were fine. As the door hesitantly shut once again, Yuta was sinking closer to you despairingly. “I would’ve come back for you— I wouldn’t have cared where I had to look, okay? I wouldn’t have cared that you left everything— but you weren’t supposed to leave me.”
His wounded tone finally caught up to you, and you let your head fall down onto your crumpled hands as you cried. Yuta sighed softly, almost regretting his stinging confession. Quickly looping around the desk, he settled down on his knees in front of you and turned you to face him.
“I’m sorry, Yuta.” You cried, falling into him as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you from your chair. He was stronger than you last remembered him being, but his touch was just as delicate. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. Hey, it’s okay. We’re here now, right?” He assured gently, pulling you away from his chest so he could look at you with a smile, tears still clinging to his lashes. His cool hand ran down from your shoulder to your wrist, and he traced the bracelet that hadn’t come off your wrist since you received it. A soft flush covered his cheeks. “You kept it, huh?”
“You kept yours, too.” You laughed breathlessly, wiping at your cheeks with one hand and grasping his bracelet with the other.
“I told you, I always meant everything I said to you. I still do.” His words almost made you break down again, but you worried if you started boo-hoo crying again that Kaori might just burst through the door with more determination than she had last time.
So instead, you took a moment to glance over his matured face, shaking your head in amusement upon seeing those familiar dark circles still hanging under his eyes. Your heart clenched as your eyes ran across the small scar that Maki left on his forehead. When you met his gaze once again, it gave you pause. Yuta had that look in his eyes— the same one he had all those years ago before he left for Kenya. The rapid patter of your heart could be felt in your throat.
Despite your nerves, your lips twitched up into a knowing smile. You reached up tentatively to place a hand over your right eye, covering the scar that had stopped him all those years ago. He pursed his lips at this action and shook his head. In an instant, his long fingers were wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face.
“Don’t.” Yuta said simply before leaning down to capture your lips in his, more assuredly than his sixteen year old self ever could have dared to, but just as sweetly as the boy who promised to come back to you would have.
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aspd-culture · 24 hours
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I wish I had the stereotypical aspd that empaths talk about. The calculative and well groomed businessman who’s incredibly independent even at the cost of other people.
I’m honestly a useless loser. I don’t do anything for anybody yet am livid when they don’t do something for me, 80% of the time I forget or don’t do the tasks I’ve been asked to even if it’s the simplest thing. I pass it off to other people. I get threatened by my parents constantly, called useless and a lazy fuck. I’m not motivated for anything, not employed and the thought of it makes me want to rip my skin off or rip their faces off whenever they mention it. It feels like another extension of control. Everything feels like an extension of control and an excuse to assume power over me.
People in my life are moving ahead of me no problem and I’m still stuck on my ass debating whether to break everything in my parents house when they use my lack of employment and symptoms to make fun of me. My friends talk about it like it’s just so simple to suck it up and march forward and I loathe them for it because they don’t understand.
Maybe this is just me being a whiny brat or a bad person
No, this is you struggling with being in a toxic environment - one that will continue to make you feel like this for as long as your parents act that way towards you. It's not possible to heal and recover and learn to process your symptoms and change your behavior in a toxic situation like that. It's likely keeping you in survival mode.
Truly I think in that situation the best way to get yourself to do the things you would need to do to leave the toxic situation is out of spite. Spite can do a lot for pwASPD when we harness it to use for good, since our PD is so reactive to it. If you think to yourself as though you're talking to them "ha, yeah okay sure I'm getting a job just like you wanted right? Except I'm doing it to get the hell away from you", you might find yourself more able to get to do those things. It's not guaranteed to work, but it's something that might help.
And, if it makes you feel any better, prosocials don't actually like us in that stereotype either AND generally ppl who fit that stereotype are in some other way coping destructively. No one who actually has ASPD is managing to not struggle at all with it bc a disorder can only be diagnosed if it significantly and negatively impacts your life. It's important to remember the stereotypes of this demonized disorder are made out to be supervillains - hyper capable beings who choose to be monsters - bc otherwise the prosocials have to admit that they're bullying people who are hurt and wish we could stop dealing with our symptoms just as much as they wish we didn't have them if not more. It's not fun for them anymore if they think about our actual struggles with ASPD, so they try and make it sound like we're having the time of our lives when none of us do. I promise you're far from alone.
It's also worth noting that if you find yourself entirely unable to work without your mental health destructing, that that's called a disability and there are things you can do to either get accommodations or potentially payment for it bc unlike your parents by the sounds of it, the government understands that mental health is a valid reason one might not be able to work.
You're not a useless loser - you're a person with a disorder that is known to be potentially disabling who is being mistreated and stuck in a toxic environment - at least going by this post.
Plain text below the cut:
No, this is you struggling with being in a toxic environment - one that will continue to make you feel like this for as long as your parents act that way towards you. It's not possible to heal and recover and learn to process your symptoms and change your behavior in a toxic situation like that. It's likely keeping you in survival mode.
Truly I think in that situation the best way to get yourself to do the things you would need to do to leave the toxic situation is out of spite. Spite can do a lot for pwASPD when we harness it to use for good, since our PD is so reactive to it. If you think to yourself as though you're talking to them "ha, yeah okay sure I'm getting a job just like you wanted right? Except I'm doing it to get the hell away from you", you might find yourself more able to get to do those things. It's not guaranteed to work, but it's something that might help.
And, if it makes you feel any better, prosocials don't actually like us in that stereotype either AND generally ppl who fit that stereotype are in some other way coping destructively. No one who actually has ASPD is managing to not struggle at all with it bc a disorder can only be diagnosed if it significantly and negatively impacts your life. It's important to remember the stereotypes of this demonized disorder are made out to be supervillains - hyper capable beings who choose to be monsters - bc otherwise the prosocials have to admit that they're bullying people who are hurt and wish we could stop dealing with our symptoms just as much as they wish we didn't have them if not more. It's not fun for them anymore if they think about our actual struggles with ASPD, so they try and make it sound like we're having the time of our lives when none of us do. I promise you're far from alone.
It's also worth noting that if you find yourself entirely unable to work without your mental health destructing, that that's called a disability and there are things you can do to either get accommodations or potentially payment for it bc unlike your parents by the sounds of it, the government understands that mental health is a valid reason one might not be able to work.
You're not a useless loser - you're a person with a disorder that is known to be potentially disabling who is being mistreated and stuck in a toxic environment - at least going by this post.
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skoulsons · 1 year
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Active shower thoughts
“You won’t help?”
vs
“I can help you”
And shin looks distraught when the latter is said to her
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lichbutch · 1 month
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counting down the hours till i can go home and get stoned as fuck and pretend i dont exist for a bit
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siixkiing · 2 years
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I know I’ve complained about this in the past, I know I can simply turn beta on and have my posts unrebloggable BUT it seems its not just my HC posts anymore either...so that solution would only solve half the problem.
BUT, I am once again saying this to whomever keeps reblogging my stuff for Sun Wukong to FUCKING STOP. It should be a written rule and just common sense that less stated otherwise, any post made by an RP Account is not FREE to reblog by anyone - Mun Post, Headcanons, IC Post (less you are a fellow RPer), Threads, and such are OFF-LIMITS.
I am getting sick of seeing notes on my posts and noticing the reblog is private, which means I can’t actively find the user to block them. It’s making me want to post less and less for my muse too. 
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xwiredearbuds2014x · 1 year
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If they wanted to they would!!
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