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asamary · 1 month

Text

The talk

As bobby walked slowly towards the rabbit, the green rabbit's head quickly turned towards her. Startled by the sudden movement, bobby stopped moving.

Shaking from her roommate's glare, she started".... h-hey hoppy!....wh-hat cha doing here.......um" she stuttered, as she saw her roommate walking towards her, glaring.

It was until the other voice came over. "There you are!! We've been looking for you everywhere bobby!!" The yellow chicken shouted, as he huffed when he made it next to bobby.

"" huff... huff... where were you!!?? The savior told us you went out of the borders!! .....bobby you know you're not allowed here." The chicken scolded bobby as bobby looked down in shame.

"Kicken is right bobby... you knew our savior's one rule, and yet you disobeyed it.." the green rabbit said, now in front of bobby.

Bobby looked away, unable to find the right words to speak.

Kicken looked at bobby for a while and then looked at the green rabbit, “so…. Ya gonna tell her?"he whispered, hoppy scowling as she puts her hand on her face. "….Bobby.. the savior told us to bring you to him... they... they wished to talk to you about something." Hoppy said , looking aways to avoid bobby seeing her scowling face.

"...what?"

Bobby, confusedly asked.

"W-wait wait wait!! The savior!!?? Wants to talk to me!??? About what????" Bobby asked in nervousness. After all, she knew who the savior is, but to talk to them, you need to be one of their more trusted followers.

Like kicken or hoppy, but their most loyal follower would be catnap. The reason why he is never home, is because he is always the one the savior summons.

SO WHY??!! WHY DID THEY WANT TO SPEAK TO ME??!!

Bobby thought hectically, too busy from thinking to even notice kicken waving his hand infront of her.

"Helloooo... earth to bobby? You still here??"

"Huh?!! Wha?? What??"

"Where going to them now."

Hoppy said as she took bobby's hand. Kicken walked infront of them, slowing down if the two girls suddenly stops from time to time.

Hoppy huffed as she looked back to bobby."stop struggling, like you're going to be chained up. ""But, what if i AM getting chained up!!?? Why would i be summoned to the savior anyways!!??" Kicken chucked as he said shouted,"the savior specifically said they only needed to talk to you. Also you do know, the only ones getting chained up are those captured scientist right. …It's weird how they kinda knew you would think that tho…….. mhh maybe they’re here right now! " he jokingly said as he saw the girls stare at him in a 'really?' face. “Alright! Alright… I’ll just be here and stay quiet…”

Hoppy huffed as the looked at bobby, softening her tone as she said."you're going to be fine bobby, just... don't do this again.... at least, tell us.." she said, as she continued to walk still holding bobby's hand.

Bobby stayed quiet, continuing to follow.

Upon their walk, kicken asked, “ so….. where were ya by the way, you weren’t only in the forest wandering endless right…….?” Bobby hesitated to answer, will they get mad if i told them about angel?

Bobby thought as she stayed quiet. Kicken looked at bobby for a while and said “you can tell us later if ya want to, no pressure at all!” He said as they reach their town.

Walking in, many of the other toys are out and about doing their normal routine, some of the adult teens are also there having conversations with the toys. And there are children playing near the school.

As the trio walk to the town hall, the toy and children who notice them waved, the trio gave their greetings as they continued to walk.

When they reached for the door, it suddenly burst open.

The one who opened it was non other than……

Kissy! And poppy.

“Oh, why hello to you three!” Said poppy as kissy merely waved at them.

“Heya poppy! Hm? What cha here for?” Asked kicken, wondering why poppy and kissy were in the town hall. Hoppy and bobby waved at kissy as they listen.

“I had a little talk with the pr- ehem… with the savior about some things.” She said as she held on to kissy’s shoulder.” Why are you three here, if i may asked?” Asked poppy.“ well… hoppy and me are just gonna drop bobby here for a bit. She’s got a meeting with our savior, just a chat they said..”kicken explained, as hoppy merely nodded.

“Oh….,ok then.. well, me and kissy better get going. Huggy and the kids are very hyper today it seams…. I might have left my coffee on the table…. “She mumbled “well then….Goodbye then!”

Poppy replied as she and kissy walked away.

Kissy waved and smiling with closed eyes.

“Well then bobs! Good luck with that chat then.” Kicken said as he smiled while patting the shaking bobby, hoppy went close to bobby and then head butted bobby softly as she said “good luck”

When bobby went inside the town hall,the door slowly closed behind her, it was dark and very silent. The hall became longer as her anxiousness grew, when she took one step, the door on the side opened with a bang.

Bobby screamed, but when the person on the door walked out, it was none other than.....catnap.

"You're here.... "

"Catnap!! Oh thank the prototype its just you... " bobby said as she put her weight on the wall beside her, still shacking"

When she looked up to catnap, she saw him wiping his hands. Because of the dark hallway, bobby couldn't see what it was.

"My god is in the last door, don't keep them waiting bobby." He interrupted bobby's observation, as he stood still on the center of the hallway, waiting for bobby.

As they both begun to walk towards the last door, bobby suddenly started, "sooo.. how are you today....?" When catnap looked at her, she flinched as her ears lowered in submission."tired, but was called in for a meeting with the others...." he slowly said, as he looked ahead again.

"...have you been sleeping well?........" bobby asked.

"..........yes................" he hesitantly answered, not meeting bobby's worried stare, when she stopped and looked at him. She was about to say something before she was interrupted. "My god is waiting....." he said as he held the door knob. "Will you come in too?" Asked bobby, not wanting to be alone.

".....no...." as he said that , he opened the door for bobby to go in, when bobby got in, the room half way was dark. And a sudden voice occurred."bobby.... sit down....please" it first frighted bobby, the voice.. no the voices..both adult and child like voices could be heard..

When she shakily sat down on the only chair. She questioned.

"....m-my savior.....why-y did you asked for me-me? "Her hand shaking on her knee, unable to look up at the prototype.

It was silent for a while until a chuckle came from the darkness."there is no need to be afraid bobby..... i only wanted to know who your new friend was..." they said, at that bobby's head suddenly went up to look at the prototype,she was about to ask how they knew, but at the sudden sight of the smaller toys she already figured it out. "The little ones saw how you interacted with that human.....how you two looked like old friends."they continued, as the little toys played with the hand they outstretched. Bobby listened as she stared how the smaller toys were comfortable around their god. The next thing the prototype said shocked bobby."it would be nice to have a new face in this little town of ours.... wont it bobby?...." "a-are you suggesting angel to li-ive with us?? " bobby still anxious but the thought of her new friend living with them filled her with joy. The prototype chuckled loudly as they said"you two only met for a day bobby,give it time." "AH!" Bobby blushed at her action, as she tried to bow down about to say sorry "lift your head child, there is no need to be sorry for being exited..." the prototype interrupted, lifting bobby's head."may i now ask who this angel is?" Bobby looked at the prototype before answering "i only saw them when i went to the very colorful flower field, at first they were very shy! But for hours we bonded, they were a very interesting person! "Bobby happily said as the smile on her face wided. As she begun to ramble, the prototype and the smaller toys listened. The prototype's eyes crinkled upwards as they listen, while the little toys ran and played around them.

This went on for hours until bobby noticed the night sky outside."AHH! Ive been rambling!! I-i didn't m-mean to take so much of your time m-my my-" she was suddenly stooped by the prototype as they said."no bobby, I'm grateful to know you have found a very interesting friend...i believe you two will meet once more then?" He asked, as bobby nodded. "Well then.. you best be going to bed then, the little ones will accompany you." They said as two little critter and a little happy mini zero. ".. wait why is a mini zero here?" Asked bobby as the smol zero jumped up and down in happiness. "Ahh... i needed somethings fixed" the prototype said as they continued "since you too are going home now, might as well bring them to zero, and please, give zero my regards" they said as bobby took hold of the smol zero.

When the four went outside and begun to walk home, bobby hummed a tune happily as she saw the smol zero getting drowsy, she chukled as she held the mini zero like a babby.

When she was at the entrance of their apartment, she went in but before going up stairs she turned and looked at the basement area. She waved to the two small critters as the two went patrolling outside.

Bobby went down the stairs and found the door to the entrance to the basement, when she opened it and peaked inside, she saw zero building something. She knocked on the door to get their attention, when zero looked up and turned their head towards bobby, she waved as she held the sleeping mini zero. "The prototype wanted to thanked you for helping them.. and this mini one fell asleep on the way home. Hehe..."she laughed as zero took the sleeping mini."⏁⊑⏃⋏☍ ⊬⍜⎍!" Zero spoke as he puts the smol zero on a little nest with clothes. "Im gonna take that as a thank you then..." bobby scratched her cheek at the weird sound. As zero went and took something, and then coming back to bobby to give... "MY PHONE!!" Bobby smiled as she suddenly hugged zero. "OHH THANK YOUUUU" zero said something but was drowned by bobby's nonstop rubbing her face on them and the so many 'THANK YOU'

When bobby stepped back smiling brightly, she saw zero fully charged with electricity by her fur and cotton clothes. "Ah.... sorry ..heh.."she smiled scratching her back head.

Zero shakes their head from the shock and just gave bobby two thumbs up. (After all, who doesn't want free electricity) as the two went their own ways and waved goodnight at each others, Bobby went upstairs and to their apartment room, when she went in, she saw the lights off, 'guess i took very long then..' she thought as she went to their shared room. When she opened it, she saw most of the other critters already sleeping.

As she slowly went to her bed, she snuggled in her pillow, wanting to talk to angel again tomorrow as well.

"- .... . -.-- / .-.. --- --- -.- . -.. / ..-. .- -- .. .-.. .. .- .-. / -.. --- -. .----. - / - .... . -.-- ..--.."

#doddle #poppy playtime #poppy playtime au #poppy playtime sweet home au #poppy playtime sh au #bobby bearhug #poppy playtime x reader #hoppy hopscotch #kicken chicken #zero signal by s00pypumkins!#stories

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blackbirdi · 14 days

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Game Night (Not a Good Idea)

Brief Description: Things heard during Wayne family game night.

Point of View: 3rd Person

Word Count: 1334

Character: Batfam x platonic!Reader

Every Sunday Bruce tries to get all his kids (whether adopted or not) back to the manor for supper and a game night. And while some of the time the games are fun and a bonding moment for everyone, most of the time it's a battleground.

Things said playing: Super Smash Bros

A very pissed off Timothy Drake: DAMIAN! I AM ON YOUR TEAM; STOP PUSHING ME OFF!

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A frustrated Stephanie Brown: DODGE IT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?

Y/n L/n: *Playing the game for the first time in years* I don't know the controls...

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Jason Todd throwing his controller against the wall after his team lost for the seventh time in a row: THIS IS BULLSHIT!

***

Things said playing: Twister

A defeated before the game even begins Duke Thomas: No. Straight up, no. We all know Dick's going to win; what's the point in even playing?

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A very flexible and cocky Dick Grayson: What do you mean you can't reach the green circle? It's literally so easy!

Jason: *His eye twitching* Kill yourself.

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A tired of the complaining, Bruce Wayne: Dick, you're not playing this round.

Dick, heartbroken: What? Why?

The rest of the Batkids: *Cheering*

***

Things said playing: Jenga

Damian Wayne, who just knocked the tower over: DRAKE BUMPED INTO ME! HE MADE ME KNOCK IT OVER JUST SO I WOULD LOSE!

Tim, who is sitting over ten feet from him: What? No, I didn't.

Damian: YES, YOU DID!

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A very confused and slightly disappointed Barbara Gordon: Why did you choose that one?

Y/n, who chose the most difficult one to remove: *Practically in tears* I DON'T KNOW!

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Anyone after knocking the tower over: I fucking hate this game.

***

Things said playing: Among Us

*While they're waiting in the lobby (the game hasn't even begun)*

Tim: It's Damian.

Damian: Fuck you.

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Bruce, after being the first killed for the fifth time in a row: Do you hate me that much?

Steph (a crewmate): *Walking past Bruce's body and not reporting it* Yes.

Babs (a crewmate), who people are now suspecting: You're not supposed to give any hints that you got killed, Bruce.

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*Y/n and Cass being revealed as the imposters*

The Batfamily after being positive that Y/n and Cass were the only ones who weren't the imposters (other than those murdered): WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE THE IMPOSTER?

Y/n and Cass: *Cackling*

***

Things said playing: Charades

Jason, after they ran out of time and didn't guess it: *Looking at the card* What you acted out was not fucking Ratatouille.

Damian, who was very much not doing anything to hint towards Ratatouille: YES, IT WAS!

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Babs after picking up the most complicated things possible to act out: What the fuck is this?

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Bruce: I burned the zombie card by the way.

Jason, Tim, Steph, Damian, and Y/n: *Groaning in disappointment*

***

Things said playing: Just Dance

Cass: *Doing everything perfectly*

Everyone else: How the fuck are you doing that?

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Cass: *Giggling* What are you doing?

Y/n: I don't fucking know.

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Tim: HOW DID DUKE GET SECOND!?

Duke: I am the epitome of a graceful dancer, Tim. *Proceeds to trip over the coffee table and land flat on his face*

***

Things said playing: Any game involving riddles

Any of the Batkids: I CALL DUKE/STEPH!

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Bruce: *Reading a riddle that was writing in Shakespearean (ye old English)*

All of the Batkids: w h a t

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Duke/Steph: I'm telling you, it's *correct answer*

Jason: No, it's not. It's *very much the wrong answer*

Duke/Steph, feeling petty: Fine, we'll go with *Jason's answer*

Bruce: It's *the answer Duke/Steph originally had*

Duke/Steph: *Waiting for Jason to admit they were right*

Jason:

Jason, who refuses to take the blame: Jeez, you're terrible at this game.

***

Things said playing: Spoons

(if you don't know what Spoons is, search it up because I don't know how to describe it, but it is the most fun game ever and you're missing out.)

Y/n: *Holding onto the spoon like her life depends on it* YOU CAN'T GRAB IT FROM ME! IT'S ALREADY IN MY HAND!

Steph: *Clawing at Y/n's hand* GIVE IT HERE!

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Dick: *Cradling his hand* I think Jason broke my hand.

Jason, with the most "I don't give a shit" voice ever: Damn. That sucks.

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All the Batkids at one point: *Quite literally throwing themselves across the table to grab the last spoon*

Bruce: *Tired Dad SighTM*

***

Things said playing: Monopoly

Jason, who owns all but one railroad: I swear to God, Tim, if you land on the last railroad and buy it...

Tim, lands on the last rail road: *Buys it*

Jason: *Lunges across the table to strangle him*

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Y/n, after buying Park Place a while ago: *Lands on Boardwalk* You bitches are about to be financially murdered.

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*After red hotels have been added to over half the board, and there are at least two green houses on every spot*

Duke: Can I just stay in jail?

***

Things said playing: Uno

Cass: Uno!

Steph: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Tim: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Y/n: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Jason: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Duke: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Dick: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Damian: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Babs: Sorry, Cass *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Cass:

Cass, trying not to fucking snap: You guys fucking suck.

(I'm sobbing. She's picking up 28 cards. NOOO, CASS)

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*It's down to just Tim and Damian; the others have all gotten rid of their cards*

Tim, after being skipped for the fifth time in a row: *Near tears* HOW MANY FUCKING SKIP CARDS DO YOU HAVE?

Damian: *Placing another one down* Yes.

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*Whenever someone wins*

The rest of the Batkids: *Starts a fist fight*

*Cue Uno getting banned from being played at a Game Night.*

***

Things said playing: Mario Kart

Babs, throwing a green shell: *Bounces off the wall and hits her instead of the person ahead of her* I'm going to kill someone.

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Dick: *Picks Rainbow Road*

The rest of the Batkids: Fuck you.

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Cass, before they start playing: Oh, I suck at this game.

Cass: *Wins over half the races*

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Jason: DID YOU JUST FUCKING BLUE SHELL ME!?

Y/n: Yup.

Jason: YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO WIN!

Y/n: That's why I did it.

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Steph: *Getting pissed that she got 2nd*

Bruce: *Trying to console her* It's fine, Steph. It's just a game.

Steph: JUST A GAME!? JUST A GAME, HUH!? THEN YOU FUCKING PLAY IT, BRUCE!

Bruce: *Too scared to play with his kids because of how angry he's been seeing them getting* No.

Steph: That's what I fucking thought.

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Y/n, after being hit by Jason's red shell for the third time in a row: *Throwing the controller at Jason* I'M DONE! I'M FUCKING DONE!

Jason: *Cackles*

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Tim: *Looking at someone else's screen and not realizing it* I am so good at this.

*His character is actually continuously hitting a wall*

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Duke: *Gets a blue shell* It's over for you, Cass!

Damian: *Uses Thunderbolt, thus getting rid of Duke's blue shell before he can use it*

*Duke, trying to stop himself from attacking Damian*

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Damian: *About to get first place* And victory is–

Duke: *Blue shells him* That's what you get, you little bastard.

*Damian proceeds to literally bite Duke*

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*Bruce, trying to ban Mario Kart from Game Night*

All the Batkids: BOO! I'm not coming back if you do.

*Mario Kart has not been banned*

***

Bonus! (Involves only Babs, Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, Tim, and Y/n)

Things said playing: Cards Against Humanity

Y/n, holding the prompt for this round: *Looking at the responses the rest gave her* You all are fucking terrible human beings.

Babs: It's a damn game, Y/n. No one actually meant it.

Dick: Hey! My card was not that bad!

Cass: Come on, it's funny!

Jason: Yes.

Steph: Thank you.

Tim: You're one to talk.

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sevcasejay1chicago · 2 months

Note

hey im dreaming of a reading story with jay where he meets a reader a quiet shy bookworm who always wears dresses or skirts and is a bit younger than him (around 10 but if that's too much for you maybe less) the rest of the Intelligence (Will too) doesn't believe she has feelings for him but then something happens and they see how much she is in love with him and they start treating her like family and Will like a little sister

Sorry for my English but it's my second language and I also wanted to say that your stories always bring me joy and peace 🤍

Found Family- Jay Halstead

Warnings: mentions panic attacks and sleazy men

Authors note: Thank you for the ask! I had to make a few changes, but I hope you still love it!

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You met Jay by chance and unfortunate circumstances. You have a habit of frequenting coffee shops on your days off. You are almost always dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, glasses perched on your face and hair thrown into a messy bun. You enjoy reading and studying in crowded places so that you can people watch when you need a break. You sit toward the back, back against the wall, and watch as people come and go as you drink your coffee.

Today, you sat in the back in your skinny jeans and maroon sweatshirt, laptop sat untouched in front of you, school work spread around the table, but your favorite book was perched in your hand. You’d given up on studying for the time being and there wasn’t really much to look at or watch at the moment. That was until someone came back to your table.

The guy couldn’t have been more than 50, but he was certainly uninvited when it came to sitting in the seat directly across from you. He had a sinister smirk gracing his face as he stared at you. You tried to ignore him, in hopes that he would go away, but you had no such luck.

Putting your book down, you shut your laptop and folded your arms protectively across your chest. “Can I help you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

The guy smirked and brushed his foot across your leg. “Maybe. I’ve been watching you for some time now. You seemed lonely and I figured I could offer you some company. After all, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be alone.” He replied, smiling suggestively as he leaned forward and started moving your stuff out of the way to get to you.

“Hey!” You said, pushing your chair back to get away from him.

The man hooked his feet around the legs of your chair and pulled you back. “Oh come on. Don’t be like that.” He snarled. “Let’s not make a scene.”

You were shaking as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You looked around for anyone who could help you when you spotted a handsome cop watching the situation unfold. You did the open and closed hand signal, which immediately had him moving out of line.

“Everything okay here?” The cop asked, coming to stand at your side, looking down on the man as he flashed his shield at the creep.

“Yes officer. Everything is fine. I’m just talking to my girl.” The man immediately answered, leaning forward to touch you again.

The cop lunged forward, taking the man’s wrist in his hand and twisting his arm behind his back. “I don’t think she wants you touching her. This is your only warnings to back off or I’m arresting you for harassment.” The cop practically growled into the man’s ear. “Got it?” He asked, letting up slightly.

The man nodded. “Got it. Got it! Please let me go. Your hurting me.” The man begged.

The cop immediately let go and yanked the man out of the chair. “Get out of here. Never, and I mean never, talk to this woman again or come into this coffee shop. We clear?” The cop asked the man.

“We’re clear.” The man replied, immediately walking out the front door.

The cop turned to you and kneeled on the ground at your side. “Hey. I’m Jay Halstead. You okay?” Jay asked, looking up at you with kind eyes.

You shook your head and stifled a sob. “N-no. I j-us.” You drug in a breath, trying your hardest to keep the tears at bay. “I wanna g-go h-home.” You whispered, wild eyes checking the area around you.

Jay nodded and stood. “It’s okay. Let’s get you packed.” Jay offered, looking at you for approval. When you nodded, he immediately began gathering your things for you. “Do you want a ride home?” Jay asked once you were ready to go.

You smiled shyly and nodded. “I-if it isn’t t-too much t-trouble.” You agreed, fidgeting with a backpack strap with one hand and wiping tears from your eyes, under your glasses.

Jay smiled. “No problem at all. Come on.” Jay said, leading the way out, coffee long forgotten.

———————

That first encounter was 6 months ago. Ever since, you have yet to see that creep, but you have seen Jay Halstead dozens of times. He frequently comes to your place at the end of the day, which is a habit he started forming after your initial meeting. At first, he wanted to be sure you were okay, and that the man stayed away, since you live alone and have no family in town. He brought something every time he came, and often stayed until you fell asleep.

Now, Jay comes over whenever he gets a chance or whenever you need each other. Most nights end with you snuggled into his embrace and him carrying you to bed. Sometimes, you will stay at the other’s apartment if it gets too late, but you both have yet to establish any relationship.

Tonight, you and Jay are having drinks with his team and his brother, Will Halstead. You are sitting next to Kevin and relentlessly teasing and flirting with him. It’s something you have done with all of the guys, and sometimes the girls, to try and mask the feelings you have for Jay. You distract yourself with one of the guys when Jay meets another girl to try and stifle your jealousy. Since you haven’t shown the same energy to Jay, nobody else has ever suspected that you could have any real feelings for Jay. Until tonight.

You were going up to the bar to grab drinks when someone grabbed you around the waist. You barely reacted at first, thinking it was one of the guys or one of your friends from 51, until they tried pulling you closer and spoke.

“No one as pretty as you should be alone.” The man whispered, trying to tug you into him.

You shrugged him off and waved down Stella. “I-I’m not a-alone.” You stammered, your anxiety immediately heightened as you felt the man move his arm higher up and try to hook a hand around your boob.

You felt like the room was closing in as you lost sight of Stella, until the man was forced off of you. You almost fell, but landed in steady arms that immediately pulled you into their chest and backed away as Adam and Stella dragged the guy out of the bar with Kevin in tow. You struggled briefly, but recognized the smell of your best friend, Jay Halstead.

“Hey hey hey. It’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.” Jay shushed, caging you in his embrace as he walked you through the crowd and back to the table.

“She alright?” Asked Will, sliding a glass of water your way.

You had major anxiety when it came to going out in public since the initial incident. You’ve just recently started venturing to the bar on your own since you know many of the patrons, but this was gonna set you back. Your anxiety was through the roof as you clung to Jay with shaking hands.

Jay shushed you and pulled your head into his chest, placing a hand on the ear that was facing the crowded bar. You could barely hear the noises of the bar, but you could clearly hear the beat of Jay’s heart and feel his chest rising and falling. Jay spoke to Will as you allowed yourself to get lost in your thoughts about Jay. Instead of replaying the incident, you allowed Jay’s presence to calm and reassure you.

Eventually, Jay pulled back and picked you up, following Will through the crowded bar. “We’re gonna go home. Alright? I’m gonna take you home.” Jay said to you, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, leaning your head on Jay’s shoulder. As you walked out, you spotted Adam trying to chill Kevin out. Kevin was pretty close to you, like the big brother you never had, and was extremely pissed that someone had the nerve to mess with you. The anger immediately turned to playfulness as they spotted Jay carrying you out and your little wave over his shoulder. They both began making kissing face and inappropriate gestures towards you and Jay that had you hiding giggles in Jay’s neck.

“Alright love birds, into the truck.” Will teased, opening the door for Jay to slip in the back seat with you.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever.” Jay replied, sliding in with you and buckling you both in, not letting you out of his lap as you shivered from the adrenaline crash.

The ride home is silent. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you hoped Jay would stay either way. Your question was answered soon as Jay got out of the truck and headed into his apartment.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to be alone.” Jay said to you, letting you down as he took his key off his key ring and threw the keys to the truck at Will. “Just bring it back tomorrow.” Jay said to his brother, both of you waving back to Will as he drove off.

You followed Jay in, immediately going into his closet to grab his army sweatshirt, changing into it and leaving your clothes on his bedroom floor. When you came back into the living room, Jay had your favorite playlist on and some hot tea. He was sat back on the couch, in sweat pants that he grabbed from his dryer and no shirt.

You wasted no time in crawling into his lap and laying your head on his chest again. You waited for him to wrap his arms around you and get comfortable before you swallowed your fears and spoke. “Jay. I wanna tell you something.” You whispered, fiddling with his dog tags.

Jay hummed, pulling you even closer.

“I really like you. I mean, your my safe space. You always know how to make me feel better, no matter the situation.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “Sometimes, I just wanna lay my head on your chest and forget everything bad that has ever happened to me.” Finally, you sat up some and looked him in the eyes. “I want to be with you. In more ways than one. Honestly Jay, I love you.” You said, smiling wildly as Jay smiled at you.

“Thank God. I didn’t want to scare you away, so I’ve been waiting on the right time to tell you that I love you too.” Jay said, crashing his lips into yours. The kiss was slow and needy. Your hands found purchase around his neck and in his hair. His softly held you around the waist with the other tangled in your hair as well.

The kiss ended when you both finally needed air. You laid your forehead against his, noses brushing against each other.

“The others are gonna freak.” You whispered, causing Jay to cackle.

“Nah. I heard there’s a bet going on. You found a family in my little family. They are just gonna be happy we are finally together.” Jay said, smiling widely as he leaned in for another kiss.

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Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@stellakiddsblog

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

@starset21

#one chicago #one chicago x reader #jay halstead #fluff #jay halstead x reader #comfort #doctor will halstead #sleazy guys #Jay is a huge teddy bear #hand signals save lives

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honey-milk-depresso · 3 months

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Batboys watching anime with reader

You know my ass went FULL ON LOCK MODE with Tim. I went crazy- 💀

***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!

Doing requests until 1 Feb! Please see my pinned post and read the request rules on the navi! Thank you!🩷

Batbros watching anime with you

Dick Grayson

He’s watched a few 90s anime before, more the basic ones like One Piece and Pokémon, and he probably still watches them to this day. Boy has old CDs he has and you should probably try finding a Blue Ray (or use his if he can have Tim help fix it because it’s good as dead 💀) because he’s popping in every CD of old anime’s he have lying about.

“Wow, I didn’t know I had cowboy bebop! Or Slam Dunk!” He got a few rare gems, which makes it all the more fun to sit down on the couch under a blanket as you huddle and watch the nostalgic 90s anime shows together while eating popcorn.

He doesn’t mind watching new, modern day animes, just be prepared for when you two watch sad anime shows because he will sob like it’s the end of the world.

“NO, WHY WOULD KAORI DIE LIKE THIS?? AND SHE LOVES ARIMA- OH MY GOD IM SO—”sobs even more. He gets emotional while watching them because it’s so sad that it’s sO GOOD-

Loves dancing to those danceable anime music with you. He goes ALL. OUT. He even sings all of it in Japanese like wow-

I would love to hear him sing Cruel Angel’s Thesis in his Discowing suit and with goth makeup on it because it “sets the mood”, PLEASE-

Overall, great time watching with Dick. <3

Jason Todd

You expect someone like him to like Chainsaw Man, Trigun or something like those grunge-y, guns and knives animes, right? I mean, he does, but only with you and ONLY with you will he let his inner Magical Girl enthusiast ass shine. Because he LOVES Magical Girl animes. That’s probably the reason and one point of time why he wore red ribbons around his arms, he wanted that Sailor Moon experience and Tim might’ve just teased him about that era without knowing his love for Magical Girl animes and Jason might’ve flipped and freaked the fuck out and started chasing him down the manor.

Jason watches Sailor Moon, Madoka when he feels edgier than usual, Cardcaptor Sakura, every Precure series, Tokyo Mew Mew, man has all these shows somehow. He swears they weren’t through illegal means and he just worked very hard to gather all of them. He also might be a shoujo anime fan because if he loves Jane Austen books, you bet his ass would be reading Fruits Basket, Maid Sama or something because of course he would.

Also a Studio Ghibli fan, although watching the Tale of Princess Kaguya might make him feel too much, especially getting pissed off with the dad who forces his daughter into a wealthy life without her input and- yeah, you gotta calm him down as he cries bitterly and sourly with a pout on his face.

The two of you can go on and on about debating about unclear endings of animes all day long. You know the “AND SHE WAS A PRINCESS” video? That’s Jason.

Great man to watch anime with, and he’ll gladly be your Tuxedo Mask to your Sailor Moon (and not the “But you did nothing meme- or the other way around- he don’t mind being the Usagi-). <3

Tim Drake

I’m very convinced this man got into his whole detective shit because he watched Detective Conan and honestly I can’t blame him. Tim has probably the largest vessel of anime knowledge out of all of them. He doesn’t really have a specific genre he likes but he’s pretty fond of old 90s and 80s animes. He can explain the whole lore of One Piece, Fairytale, Pokémon like Jesus Tim, calm down- 💀

I can see him watching Neon Genesis Evangelion, Serial Experiments Lain or Key the Metal Doll because he likes that little bit of horror nature and mystery and thriller in his animes although he really doesn’t mind watching Haikyuu all over again if you want to.

Might introduce you to underrated and/or old animes like Revolutionary Girl Utena, Nadia the Secrets of Blue Water, every Studio Ghibli movie, those kinds of animes that give off the really pretty and aesthetic old anime animations that is just so pretty to watch and with really good storylines that both of you can cuddle on a couch together and watch. I bet he even watches anime with you even before you two got together, so you guys pretty much have “watching anime together” as part of the foundation of your relationship. Owns so much manga that you can’t even count, too.

Just… don’t make him watch those really slow burn, comedy love animes, specifically Love War. Not that he don’t like romance animes, he watches Ouran High School Host Club and Your Name, trust me, but Love War? He is going absolutely insane because of it.

“OH MY GOD- PLEASE JUST KISS ALREADY. ME AND S/O ARE ALREADY TOGETHER FIVE MONTHS AGO ANF YOU TWO ARE STILL TOO PROUD TO ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER WHILE BLUSHING- JUST KISS ALREADY-” <3

Damian Wayne

Damian likes anime. Would 100% go to an anime convention with you as a date if you’re up for it. He doesn’t mind (surprisingly- just for you only-).

He doesn’t necessarily like showmen animes although he has enjoyed a few, but he really loves slice of life, I feel. It just feels like he wants to put himself in a normal life and with a tad bit of drama in it like what the characters go through. The touching ones like Hyouka or Natsume’s Book of Friends.

Also animal related anime maybe except Beastars because he didn’t understand shit-?? He calls that peak anime. Aggretsuko, Chi’s Sweet Home and My Roommate is a Cat?? Damian loves this shit, he watches it intently with his arm around you. Even if he doesn’t smile, you know he loves it by the way his eyes sparkle.

Just don’t tell his brothers. He will seriously feel betrayed if you do so because he only watches these kinds of shows with you: the cute animal ones that are actually wholesome and/or funny.

The whole family is into Studio Ghibli, and he is no exception. He feels like it’s the best kinds of anime to watch with you when you guys just want to turn in for the day and huddle up on the couch. It’s one of the rare times he relaxes and softens and he’s glad to have quality time with you. <3

Duke Thomas

He likes anime! Studio Ghibli is definitely a favourite of his and he would gladly watch it together with you! He also love a fair bit of Shounen animes, the more popular ones like Jujutsu Kaisen, One Piece, Haikyuu, or Spy x Family. He likes them a lot!

A big fan of romance animes too: Ouran High School Host Club and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (if you two are in the mood to huddle on the couch together and cry).

Duke doesn’t mind any kind of anime so long as it doesn’t have too much horror or gore like… Higurashi. He gets chills when that anime is mentioned. D-Don’t watch it for your own sake if you don’t know. And if you do, avoid it with him at all cost because he will.

Duke also like singing some good anime songs with you and you guys can go crazy and dance around, just not as dramatic as Dick.

He would be super excited to spend a date with you watching shounen anime movies like from Jujutsu Kaisen and he would be so hype to spend time with you being a fanboy while also sharing that romantic air for the shared love of anime between you two and the love that you two share, although that love is far stronger. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

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getosbigballsack · 20 days

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@hajunzi , you're really shameless, making my story into a three part series, word for word, then you gonna have the audacity to say "I wouldn't write incest if it wasn't requested, but something took over me and made me want to write this."

I'm pretty sure you're meant to say, "something took over you, and you decided to steal it." Yeah, that would've made much more sense.

If only you knew the orgins of the story, a one-shot I wrote for CORPSE HUSBAND before I even got into anime, and I decided that I would've have been so much better as a SATOSUGU story and you just stole it as if I didn't spend countless nights writing it, wrote over 10k+ words just to publish this story and went into depression right after because of the amount of rest I was receiving.

You have no respect for our work, our art. And as if stealing and making "MY STORY" into a three part series wasn't enough, you just had to steal @peachsayshi story too.

This is not fair so much time and effort just for our stuff to get stolen. And what hurts is that you never asked, because if you did ask me to use my story, I would've said yes to you and just simply asked that you give me credit for my work. But no... you took it own it as if it's yours.

I feel so disrespected.

#signal boost #boost!#plagarism #if you see this story please do not read the work is not theirs #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #getou suguru smut #geto x reader #lets do the right thing

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certifiedredhoodlover · 4 months

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Duke Thomas Headcanons

Request by anonymous : Duke trying to get used to having Batmom as his new mom

TW: anxious feelings mentioned, fluff moments, duke being a total bimbo but in a cute way.

Ok first of all Duke was still getting used to being around the bat family as he is an official member now

He was used to having Bruce around him every day but a new mom?? He’s a bit hesitant

But of course batmom waited for him to get more comfortable around her

And that’s how a perfectly healthy mother - son relationship started

Duke would always go to her for comfort wherever he had one of his anxious moments

Always helps her bake in the kitchen, it’s his favourite pastime with her

Smiles so much,his cheek hurt,every time she compliments his work either as a student or as Signal

Had a warm feeling in his chest when she saw how happy she was when his prom day came around

Getting him ready for that was her favourite thing

Batmom fixing his suit whenever a mission got a little too heated and got his suit damaged

Batmom being always over his head when he’s sick and baking him his favourite pie of hers

Buying him his first ever motorcycle (damn he takes after Jason for that)

He literally cried like a baby that day

Being there when his graduation came around with tears streaming down her face ruining her mascara (Bruce had the biggest smile on his face watching her)

Also being there for his first ever date

She made Dick and Jason follow him just to know he would be safe

[DUKE CONTENT LETS GOOO]

#dc x reader #batfamily #duke thomas #batmom #duke thomas x reader #the signal #dc universe #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #headcanons

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eddies-house · 4 months

Text

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Twelve - The Holiday Season Begins

W/C: 8.7K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

"I've got my eye on you."

Say Yes To Heaven - L.D.R

A/N: Wow I think this is the longest I've gone without posting a chapter. I really hope you guys enjoy this one. I wrote it in bits and pieces and read it over several times. I would really really really love to know what you think, this one is so special and personal to me.

Masterlist

Prev | Next

Sugary apple goo.

You think back to Thanksgiving back home, a ruckus constant in the kitchen as dinner is prepared, more than enough food to feed an entire village. Pots and pans clank together, trays create an echo as they are not-so-carefully placed atop the counter. Dinner rolls are burned but still enjoyed with warm cinnamon butter. The potatoes are a touch too lumpy but still desirable with notes of rosemary and an ungodly amount of garlic. Various smells, both sweet and savory flood the house, your poor, stressed out mother churning out dish after dish, siblings all engaged in some kind of ball game out in the street just after watching the Thanksgiving Day parade.

You tend to the green bean casserole, an easy dish that you couldn’t screw up even with your limited attention span. Cream of Mushroom soup from a can seemed so repulsive in itself although it brought the whole dish together. It didn’t matter that seconds prior it slumped against the green beans still in the shape of the can, nearly gelatinous. Once stirred in and baked with crispy onions layered over the top, it was a masterpiece. A five star dish in your book.

It would only be a matter of time before grandma showed up with her famously delicious apple pie, the crust coated in extra amounts of grainy sugar, the dish still piping hot. And the “sugary apple goo” as you used to call it at the age of three already had your mouth watering just thinking about it, crispy apples so fresh and topped with syrupy caramelized sauce topped off with cinnamon and nutmeg, all wrapped up in a flaky, buttery crust.

You sigh, piling the apple mixture on top of the homemade graham cracker crust. It wasn’t clear to you just how lonely Thanksgiving morning would be without anyone around. Sure, you had Donnie’s to look forward to this evening but until then, you were on your own, the parade quietly playing on the TV though you hadn’t been very impressed with the floats this year. Holiday depression was kicking in, a kind you hadn’t experienced yet. They were usually always a happy time, family surrounding you and distracting you from the lonesome thoughts you usually had. This year it started feeling more like a ton of bricks was sitting on your chest, no one able to aid in providing you with some kind of task such as the honor of making the green bean casserole to ease the pressure.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t just make the controversially delicious dish, you had everything stashed in the pantry. It just didn’t feel right. It went unnoticed by you that tears were slowly sliding down your cheeks until a fat one landed on your wrist as you finished spooning the apple filling.

Again?

In that moment you swear you looked the most pitiful you had ever looked in your entire life, tears trailing down your face silently, all alone, homesick. You should be in your pajamas playing some kind of a board game on the coffee table in the living room, surrounded by your siblings. Not throwing yourself a pity party while spreading apple goo. To top it off, your hands had gotten completely covered, the sauce making your fingers undesirably sticky. You hadn’t quite reached the point of sobs yet though you suppose if you let the goo linger on your hands any longer you would.

Some comforting folk music your grandpa used to play religiously rang through the house though you felt no such comfort. Not as much as you’d hoped anyway. It brought a familiar sense of his essence to you, his passing three years ago not settling right in your heart. It only made you more homesick.

But you weren’t going to let yourself soak in salty tears and sticky apples. No, you washed your hands in soothing warm water, the sludge sliding right off and into the metal of the sink, eyes puffy and red but void of tears for the time being. You’d sucked them back and changed the music to something more upbeat, some Elvis that your grandpa had also engrained deeply into your brain though you hoped the faster tempo would brighten your spirits and ignite the happy memories.

Only, it landed you on the couch in a whole new sea of sobs this time as Unchained Melody lingered in the lonely room. There was no getting a grip on the gut-wrenching, stomach-aching isolation you were feeling, sanity was long gone. You were supposed to be trimming the dough that was meant to create the criss cross pattern for the pie, you were supposed to be enjoying your glass of wine as you sang under your breath to familiar tunes, you were supposed to be okay.

It was you, after all, who had made the decision to move, right? It was you who picked up your entire life and plopped it right in the middle of some unknown mountain town in search of yourself. You feared that you were just losing yourself instead, forgetting just after a few months what it felt like to be surrounded by loved ones, forgetting how it felt to come home to a full house after a grueling shift at the local Denny’s. You smelled of burnt coffee and dry eggs, your hair greasier than the literal grease trap, but none of that mattered the second you stepped into the coziness of the living room, all family dysfunction left at the door.

The tears wouldn’t stop though you still managed to force yourself off of the couch, wiping snot away with the back of your hand as you stared at the messy kitchen in despair. Everything suddenly seemed so…impossible. How were you meant to do anything while simultaneously questioning your entire existence, your entire meaning of life?

You had been in such disarray that cleaning up as you went didn’t even seem close to an option, nearly every pot and pan either set on top of the stove or thrown in the sink, whisks and spatulas scattered among the mess, and apple skins littering the floor. Now you were taking in the aftermath, not even having the finished product to show as an excuse for the complete disaster, even the dough still rolled out on the cutting board. You had hours left to prepare though it felt like seconds ticking by to inevitable disappointment.

The end of the world felt like it weighed down on your shoulders yet you did what you did best each time. You set it aside and pressed on. It was never simple, weak hands grasping the dull knife, slicing through the dough to create uniform strips. Motivation was running dry, the desire to grace everyone with the most delicious apple pie they’d ever tasted was out the window, you could only do what your body allowed.

And like every other time you had to pull yourself out of the gutter. Life began to bleed back into your eyes as your creation came back to life. Puffiness still remained throughout your face, eyes still droopy but slowly your drive kicked back into gear. Sniffles from previous snotty tears continued but nothing felt better than laying down the last layer of dough over the apple filling, a quest conquered.

Finishing off your cheap red wine, you reward yourself by licking off the spoon you’d used for the filling. The kitchen still required a good scrub down but you could live with the mess a little while longer as you indulged in the sweetness. Something well deserved. You didn’t even want to think about the nightmare that Christmas was about to become, decorating your tree with only the company of your dreaded thoughts. That was a scenario you were not willing to wander into, at least not until it would actually happen. There was no sense in making yourself live through it twice, your brain longing to torture you with irrational possibilities.

Elvis’s voice continues to carry through the living room, a second glass of wine being poured in hopes of easing your homesickness, attempting to neglect thoughts of what you would usually be doing right now. It was barely working, only leaving you feeling slightly lazy with a good layer of sadness still looming over you like a storm cloud. There was no extinguishing the sorrows you felt for familiarity and the comfort the holidays were supposed to bring you.

Sudden knocking sends you into a brief panic, unexpected guests were not in the cards for your lonesome morning that had only served to encourage your crybaby tendencies. At the very least you got a pie out of it.

The knocking persists as you scramble up from your depressing divot on the couch, a certain urgency waving over you at the speed of the knocks. They were rapid, quick pecks at the wood, a worrisome speed that usually constituted an emergency in the end.

Why today, why now?

With a heavy sigh, you swing the door open, glass of half-finished wine in one hand while the other runs down your drained face. You expect some kind of eviction notice; god knows why since you own the place. Maybe the check hadn’t reached the mortgage company, maybe it had been intercepted in transit. The last thing you expect on your doorstep is a wide-eyed Eddie cradling a large bowl in one arm. His gray sweatpants swallow his legs and hang low on his hips, a sliver of his tummy on display in between his t-shirt and pants.

It’s conflicting. Do you act concerned and start begging the questions: Did something happen? Who’s injured? Or do you exhale in relief as a tiny smile tugs at the corners of his mouth even in his somewhat distressed state? It can’t be that bad if he still finds it in himself to smile, right?

“I, uh, I need help.” He says sheepishly.

Ever since the night of the hoedown, he’d been a new kind of shy with you. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t adore it because truth be told, big bad Eddie Munson who previously chewed you out for being so bashful was now getting a taste of his own medicine. Except you had been much kinder than he initially was, though it was fun to tease him and force his face to turn a vibrant tomato red.

“Help?” You smirk, swirling your wine as if you were some kind of connoisseur. “My, my, how the tables have turned.”

“Bambi.” He groans, still maintaining focused eye contact with the wood planks of your porch.

“Eddie.”

It’s said so softly, in a way that reduces him to a puddle, his knees could give out at any moment if you so much as looked at him a certain way which had been why he refused to catch your gaze. He internally curses himself for automatically counting under his breath, unable to stop himself: one, two, three, one, two, three.

In an instant your face falls, he only ever counted when he was stressed from what you could gather. It was a learning curve, navigating Eddie’s quirks.

“Hey.” You soothe, gingerly grabbing his wrist with your free hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His curls bounce with a shake of his head, his eyes fluttering shut. The counting stops but he still comes across as fuzzy. Disoriented.

“Come inside.” You whisper, gently tugging him through the door, your wine abandoned at the entry table in the process. “It’s freezing out.”

Instinctually he hands you the bowl he’d been cradling close to his body with a wooden spoon sticking out. Upon further inspection, a mountain of mashed potatoes-or should you say lumps of potatoes are piled up within the bowl. The skins are still intact, way too many if he intended to make smooth and creamy potatoes. They’d be much less than enjoyable in the state they were currently in.

“I fucked them up.” He whispers.

The sight you’re met with is that of a small child in a grown man’s body, his large eyes pleading. You’re forced to realize that today may very well be much worse for him than it is for you. He’d warned you that he didn’t do holidays and here he was, a nervous wreck turning up on your doorstep in a panic with lumpy potatoes. And suddenly you felt so selfish.

“That’s okay.” You assure him, tracing a tender thumb over his bicep. He looked so lost. “Eddie, it’s okay.” You repeat with a nod.

“I just, I was gonna buy something from the store, and then, I just thought–I dunno maybe I’d at least try.” He tugs on his curls, a bit too harshly for your liking. “I don’t know why I even tried.” He sighs in defeat.

It’s enough to break your heart.

“Eddie.”

Turmoil flashes in his eyes, stress apparent in the way his brows furrow and his frown lines grow deeper. His lips are red, most likely bitten, and he can’t stop twisting one of his rings around his finger. He looks to be as much of a wreck as you felt although the symptoms seem to be much more apparent in his appearance than yours. Your slightly swollen eyes were nothing compared to his tousled curls, anxieties littered across his face and trembling hands unable to be subtly hidden without the crutch of sleeves.

“I, uh, I-I shouldn’t have bothered.” He mutters, reaching for the door.

You intercept him, your hand wrapping around his elbow while you attempt to meet his eyes. He freezes in his escape, your touch rendering him paralyzed, your fingers suddenly too determined in digging into the meat of his arm. Not meanly. Never meanly. More concerned. Concerned for the way he cowers away the second he’s offered any fraction of help. Perhaps it’s hypocritical of you to regard him with such worry when you yourself present the same behaviors under the same circumstances and expect no such treatment.

Your expression offers a certain softness that he’s come across one too many times since you’d barged into his life and taken his heart hostage. You’d never know you committed such a crime. And he’d never outright tell you of the ache that sat deep in his chest that he had no clue how to satiate. All he knew was that he could not jeopardize this. If he could get through the holidays, if he could get to January and you were still around, then, and only then would he be convinced that he had finally lifted whatever fucked up, out-of-this-world curse that had haunted him all his life.

“It’s okay.” Barely above a whisper, you assure him.

Eddie doesn’t remember making his way into your kitchen, he can’t recall your delicate hand pulling him along until you let go to discard his potato concoction onto the counter and he realizes he’s taken the warmth for granted in a haze of existential dread. Like a lost puppy, he stares at your fingertips as they linger on the counter while you lean over to reach for an empty casserole dish. The entirety of your kitchen cabinets had thrown up all over the counters, a reflection of the way his brain felt. Scattered.

“Potatoes are actually super complicated.”

His ears perk up, unsure of how to conjure up a response. Instead, he raises his eyebrows, fearful of how dumb he could make himself look with just a few syllables. It wasn’t like him to care so deeply what others thought of him.

“That’s why I avoid them. Instead–” You turn around only to pull out a can of green beans and a can of cream of mushroom. “-work smarter, not harder.”

Eddie knows he should be hanging onto every word you say and usually he would be, he knows. Except he can’t help but tune into the melody of Blue Christmas that had been echoing off the kitchen walls from your record player across the room.

The damn record player. And the records.

He didn’t realize how much the records still affected him. He had his own collection now, sure. But anything that resembled the essence of his Mama, lived safely and soundly on its dedicated shelf in his room, untouched. It took him years to rebuild Mama’s collection.

“Sorry can we-” He makes his way toward the record player, his face contorted nearly painfully before lifting the needle. “I just-I can’t think.”

Your motions were paused, can opener halfway through the can of beans as your eyes meet him with questions splayed across your face. You don’t ask them. An understanding smile works its way across your lips and god, he doesn’t know why you’re so patient with him after he stepped into your house and suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to shut off your music. As he strides back into the kitchen, a series of apologies haven't even left his mouth and yet-

“So…Green Bean Casserole.” You state, fingers tapping against the tin of each can. “And Sugary Apple Goo.” A vague gesture toward the uncooked pie. “Kind of a…weird duo. Or it will be if I actually get it in the oven-”

“Sorry, what?”

“Apple pie. The apple pie. At home we just call it sugary apple goo, don’t ask why it’s just–it’s just a thing we do.” You clarify, shoving the dessert into the comforting warmth of the oven, shivering at the sensation as goosebumps begin to prick your skin.

“Apple goo.” He repeats. A raised brow disappearing beyond his messy bangs.

Eddie almost forgets the reason why he’d been in such disarray, almost forgets why he even bothered knocking on your door in the first place, only remembers the fact that he was in a panicked state.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

You busy yourself with slopping the now drained green beans into a nearby glass bowl. Your blotchy skin and puffy eyes catch in the stream of sunlight, the kitchen window betraying you as it showcases your true state. Avoiding those large brown eyes is the best you can do, the theory that if you can’t see him he can’t see you dumbly being put to use no matter how aware you are that it makes no sense. Maybe if you act “okay enough”, he’ll chalk it up to the common cold, placing the responsibility for your rudolph-like nose on the yearly infection.

What you fail to realize is that by this point, he’s become too familiar with your teary eyes and sad worry lines that only seemed prominent in your times of distress. Times that he had regretfully been the cause of previously. Words can’t escape his practically sewn-shut-mouth, all sounds dying long before forming on his tongue. It’s impossible to create comfort when he himself has trouble doing so for himself. How could he possibly offer such comfort to someone who deserved kinder words from someone of a higher regard?

“Here, dump this in and mix.” You instruct, forcing a can of cream of mushroom and a wooden spoon in his hands, yanking him out of his mind.

There’s no room for protest, not that he even intended to. Not when you’re standing there with the ghost of tear tracks down your cheeks. Not when you’re this kind. Not when you’re you.

“Okay.” He mutters, a disgusting sound filling his ears from the lumpy soup falling into the bowl.

“After that, pour it in here.” You place a ceramic casserole dish to his right, the dish nearly too large to fit on the cluttered counter though you’re too occupied with tidying up other parts of the kitchen to bother.

“Got it.”

Eddie Munson absolutely hates Thanksgiving. But he doesn’t mind it so much when you’re rustling around behind him, a silent conversation hanging in the air that neither of you are alone in your holiday sorrows, whatever they may be.

You don’t ask why he continues counting under his breath behind you or why his hands are shaking.

And he doesn’t ask why tears linger in your eyes or why you pause to regain your composure after dropping a pan a bit too loudly for your liking, your lip wobbling.

Because the collective understanding is that neither of you is okay. And maybe that’s okay.

–

“Careful, the bottom is–”

“Shit!”

“-hot.”

A ringed hand waves around in an effort to rid it of the burning sensation caused by the bottom of the piping hot casserole dish. Eddie releases a series of curses, the side of the dish pushed against his chest as he balances it between his body and his single arm protected by one of your generously donated dish rags. Your wide eyes caution him in his balancing act, a perfectly crafted green bean casserole at risk due to his negligence as he had taken the liberty of knocking on the door.

“What the fuck, how can fuckin’ beans be so goddamn hot?” Brown eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, his fingertips more than likely singed an angry red.

It’s no laughing matter, not according to the scowl that makes its way across his handsome features but you can’t stop the pull of your lips from forming a large grin, giggles caught in the back of your throat. His irritation disappears just as quickly as it came, harsh edges blurring into softness at the sight of your puffed out cheeks, inflated due to the humor just dying to crawl out of your mouth.

“Oh, shut up.” A nudge of his shoulder against yours has you shaking your head, laughter finally escaping your perfectly glossed lips.

He could write paragraphs about them if it didn’t seem so creepy and stalkerish. So he allowed himself the tiniest of glances, only hoping to paint the full picture in his head ever since you’d quickly puckered your lips in front of your mirror at home to complete your finishing touches while he viewed from the porch where he waited in his black button up and nicest pair of jeans. He’d never been so jealous over a tube of lipgloss. In fact, he’d never in his life been jealous of a tube of lipgloss and he never felt like more of a loser than in that moment.

“I told you.” You mutter, an endearing side eye delivered right into his line of sight. It was something almost child-like, something innocent and not at all like what he’d ever really been on the receiving end of. Maybe because there was a certain flirtiness you were hinting at although he was no expert and had no right to assume.

“I told you.” He mumbles back with a higher pitch, mocking you.

You turn toward him, a comeback on the tip of your tongue when his own tongue interrupts with a taunt, peeking out between his lips swiftly, his nose scrunching up meanly before his full attention is back on the door as it creaks open. And then, a quick wink that only you yourself were a witness to, only creating a stir in your brain as you decipher that no one else would be able to confirm the action.

“Hey!” Donnie greets, arms flung up in excitement as she ushers you into her welcoming home, smells infiltrating your nose, sweet and savory galore.

Before either you or Eddie can even get a simple “hello” in, she’s talking your ear off, something about who all is already in the living room, how far along the turkey is, where the bathroom is, all while guiding you into the spacious dining room. She must have set out her fine china, the gorgeous dishes set all around the table lined with champagne colored silver on the edges of the plates. Two tables had been pushed together, creating enough space for the large number of guests expected. In the center sat an exquisite arrangement of various orange-hued flowers and some greenery.

The house was comforting; not too large and not too small, a two story dream that no doubt had acres of backyard. The Christmas tree had already been set up and decorated, the branches and lights hinting at you from the other room where men roared with laughter, a football game blaring from the TV that contrasted with the familiar voice of Frank Sinatra coming from the stereo. Combined turkey and Santa decorations adorned the interior everywhere you glanced, surfaces that would usually be empty year around were occupied with tacky little figurines that were more endearing than anything. Plastic garland traced the rails of the stairs, littered in fake plastic cranberries, the front room being far more grand than your entire home as you inspected it through the archway of the dining room.

Suddenly your nerves were simmering down, a familiar feeling nestling into the bottom of your chest as your shoulders fell from their tensed position, your fingers letting up on their grip on the pie tin you clutched so desperately. Women squealed from the kitchen, a series of “oh my god”s erupting into the rest of the house, some kind of juicy gossip initiating several gasps as well as some laughter. Your homesickness began to lie dormant, warmth overtaking you as Donnie went on and on about her family members, which ones to avoid sitting next to at all costs and warning you of the aunties that would corner you and beg for details on your love life.

“Just pretend I’m calling you and run as fast as you can in the other direction.” She advises. “And if that doesn’t work, tell ‘em you had too much wine and that it’s making a reappearance. They’ll scatter like flies.”

You laugh along, taking mental notes as she grabs the pie from you, complimenting the smell as she sets it among several other desserts, a whole table dedicated only to sweets. When she goes to grab the green bean casserole from Eddie, you can’t help but pause and watch as his doe eyes trace his surroundings, a clearly unfamiliar environment to him. There’s uncertainty dripping from his demeanor, his single finger tapping against the dish: One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

“Green bean casserole-Eddie, do you know how many green bean casserole we’ve got? Like you all read each other’s mind, I swear.” Donnie jokes.

“It’s-um, it’s hot.” He cautions her.

Sauntering toward the main table, Donnie proudly sets it on top of a place mat to protect the wood from the heat. Eddie doesn’t budge, seemingly glued to the carpet, his hands still lingering in the air like he had still been holding the dish.

“You okay?” You mouth to him, looking up into his worried eyes, only hoping to soothe the crease in between his eyebrows.

He nods though you suspect he’s being a bit dishonest.

“Oh, c’mon Eddie! You know I’m just pullin’ your leg.” Donnie reassures, a heavy hand falling against his shoulder. “Shoot, I have to go check on the oven. Yell for me if you need anything, both of you, okay?”

“Sure.” You mumble. “Thank you.”

“There’s a fully stocked bar right over there, help yourselves.” She calls as she backs herself up toward the kitchen. “But don’t go too crazy.” She sends a knowing glance, recalling both of your tendencies to take on more than you can handle.

“Why don’t we get some air?” You suggest, unable to comprehend exactly just what was happening in Eddie’s mind although you knew enough to understand that he was miles outside of his comfort zone.

“No, no. I’m good.” A cleared throat doesn’t reassure you enough but you let it go for the time being. Prying wasn’t going to help. “”M gonna get a beer.” He murmurs, chain jingling from his belt as he makes his way toward what you can only assume is the kitchen where Donnie had just disappeared to.

As pathetic as it seemed, you weren’t going to allow yourself to wander around alone, vulnerable to various conversations trapping you in small talk with strangers: an absolute nightmare. Timidly, you follow behind Eddie at a safe distance, holding your breath as you take in the new room full of busy women and many glasses of wine. The smell of gravy heavily lingers, a tinge of the sourly sweet alcohol peeking through as you release your breath and inhale finally.

And then-they were all over him. Sweet older women, ranging from around fifty plus years, all doting on him, cooing at him while complimenting how tall he is and his handsome features. It only forces you to lean your hip against the counter and take in the most captivating scene you’d ever witnessed. His cheeks redden, his entire face matching shortly after as he nods in response, small “thank you”s sneaking past his lips with a sheepish grin threatening to spread across his face, dimples prominent. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to do with the attention, has no recognition of the power he currently holds.

“Is this one yours?!” One woman shrieks, taking your hands in her bony ones.

“Oh-”

“You’re so lucky, he’s such a looker!” Another chimes in.

“We’re not-”

“You better hope he holds onto all that hair throughout the years.” A third nods.

Eddie’s face has never been redder, crimson painting his usually pale skin, a beer pinched in between his fingers as he avoids every single eye in the room. You can only imagine the look on your own face, maybe slightly mortified with a hint of pink pulling at your cheeks due to the unnecessary attention.

“Alright, alright.” Donnie interjects. “Enough, you’re gonna scare ‘em away before they’ve even had a bite to eat!” She waves her hands around, dramatics on full display as she shoos them away like pigeons.

“Thank you.” You whisper, eyes large and surprised.

“Run, run.” Donnie displays wide eyes, gently shoving you both out of the kitchen.

–

Throughout the evening, you kept Eddie in your peripheral. Sure, he was grown and fully capable of taking care of himself but it didn’t worry you any less when holidays weren’t necessarily his favorite thing. Anxieties lurked in the back of your mind the second he started counting earlier, never once fading away no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that he was fine, now bantering back and forth with Sam.

“That Steve kid really can’t dance.” Nathan laughs, pulling you back into the initial conversation you were having, perched on the couch with a glass of wine set in front of you on the coffee table courtesy of Donnie’s excellent hosting skills.

“Well that’s why he excused himself off the dancefloor.” You softly smile, earning another hearty laugh from the man.

“Hey, but Eddie’s no better.” He jokes, taking a swig of his beer. “Looked like a damn giraffe stumbling over his own legs.”

“I wasn’t very coordinated either!” You defend. “We were a hot mess.” You bury your face in your hands.

“Yeah, I bet Eddie thought you were hot.”

The recliner adjacent to you creaks beneath Jett as he makes himself comfortable, slouching with a beer in his hand.

“Whoa.” Nathan leans forward, ready to reprimand him. “What-”

“That’s okay.” You speak softly, your hand covering the older man’s as an act of keeping the peace, something you did best. Several seconds of contemplation and a glance across the room toward Eddie change your mind.

“Actually-it’s not.” You turn your body toward Jett, a man–child before your eyes that refused to even look at you after his comment. Your hands shake and your cheeks heat with embarrassment, chalking your sudden confidence up to the glass and a half of wine you indulged in.

“What?” Jett furrows his brows, examining his beer far too aggressively as a means to avoid you.

“It’s not okay.” You whisper, a wimpy excuse of a defense.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?” Nathan scolds through gritted teeth.

Jett’s nearly-black eyes resemble something opposite in comparison to the warmth in those across the room currently harboring a twinkle in an engaged conversation. The boy is unable to get a word in as you quietly begin to address him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I did something wrong.” You regret the tremble in your tone, confrontation was well out of your comfort zone, especially with someone who had been so hostile for no reason. It wasn’t in your DNA to be the “bad guy” even when it would benefit your wellbeing.

Something in your words softens Jett’s eyes, pulls a piece of him back into reality. You weren’t terrorizing him and he couldn’t seem to grasp that ever since that night you had argued with Eddie behind the bar. And you hadn’t spoken a word out of line but you weren’t clueless. Clearly he had an agenda against you and Eddie, it never left your mind since Eddie mentioned that Jett got all over-protective suddenly that night and took it out on him. But what could you do when all he did was puff out his chest rather than have a decent conversation? His frayed emotions were not your responsibility, you owed him nothing if he was going to insist on acting like a toddler in adult situations. You suppose some of it could be due to his lack of years behind yourself and Eddie, Jett still a teenager, almost twenty whereas you had been in your twenties for a few years now. It wasn’t an excuse, just your brain attempting to work out his logic.

“You didn’t–you didn’t do anything wrong.” He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

You don’t offer any words. Only an expectant look. Expecting of some kind of explanation as to why he’d been acting so cruel. And as if the universe decided you didn’t live in enough anguish with your homesickness that morning paired with the current unwanted confrontation, Eddie’s eyes met yours for a brief moment before darting away, a deep sigh and suddenly slouching shoulders clearly indicating some kind of defeat before he quietly stepped out of the room.

“Can we get into this another time?”

You don’t wait for a response, excusing yourself to slip out of the room and follow the trail of cold out the front door, the chill seeping into your bones as your cradle your arms close to yourself. The porch is spacious, something you hadn’t taken notice of earlier when arriving. To your left, Eddie sits on a wooden bench with the family name “Scott” carved into it. A cigarette takes its place between his fingers, his lighter flickering while he lets out a frustrated groan. He places the stick between his lips and cups the flame to hide it from the wind, finally succeeding in lighting it, puffs of smoke escaping through the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not fragile, Bambi. Stop following me around.” He mutters, pulling the cigarette from his lips. There’s no malice detected in his words, just something lacking hope as he stares straight ahead.

Carefully, you sit at the very edge of the bench, your skirt a tad too short to allow you to fully sit back due to the cold surface. You catch a wave of his warmth as he rests his arm on his thigh. It hurts, how far away he feels even being inches from you; his mind might as well be on Jupiter. A momentary glance over at you causes him to sigh deeply, his head dipping down while he shakes it in disappointment.

“And dammit!” Eddie snaps, face twitching in aggravation. “I don’t have a jacket for you this time. Learn how to dress for the cold.” He gestures to your posture, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt to savor any warmth, and your jaw clenched shut as a means to keep your teeth from chattering though you can’t seem to contain the shivers nearly rattling your bones.

“I don’t need one.”

He scoffs, disbelief evident in his movements, a fidgeting hand reaching up to scratch the barely-there stubble at his jaw.

“I don’t!” You lie.

You were never one to willingly be dishonest but a little white lie in this case didn’t seem like the end of the world. Not when Eddie’s fragile state of mind seemed to gnaw away at him. You wouldn’t leave him out for the wolves to feed on him; wolves being his never ending thoughts that always without fail, won him over and forced him to crawl back into his comfort zone of isolation. You suppose you weren’t so innocent either, always succumbing to the very same habits.

“Go back inside.” A flick of his cigarette ash towards the ground ignites in the thin layer of snow barely coating the porch before extinguishing.

You can’t help the furrow in your brows, staring at him as if to figure him out, attempting to glance into his large coffee colored irises, to no avail. His shiny eyes dodge your attempts, the windows of his soul closed off, even from you. Not that you were immediately entitled, though you figure with each trauma he had shared with you, he’d at least be able to look you in the eye.

“Come with me.” You chirp. “We’ll taste all the wines. C’mon, and then we’ll be nice and hungry. Drunk eating is the best.” You extend a hand out toward him, your freshly painted nails perfectly imperfect in his peripheral.

“I’m not in the mood, Bambi.”

His gravelly voice has a certain effect on you, one you find not appropriate to dissect right now. He lifts the cigarette back up to his lips, the chance to take one more drag stolen from him as you pluck it from his fingers, tossing it into the snow without regret, stomping your foot on it for good measure.

“Well, get in the mood. Let’s go.”

Boldly, you tug at his arm, unable to move him by yourself, you know. But he willingly melts into your touch, allowing you to pull him up despite his protesting frown. Though he follows you to stand, he doesn’t budge much further than that as you try to drag him back into the cozy warmth of the house. The rounded tip of his nose glows red, the threat of a cold only pushing you to tug on his sleeve with no success in ushering him inside.

“I think ‘m just gonna head home. You think someone else could give you a ride back?” The question is hesitant, no longer wanting to participate in the festivities but still concerned for your well-being, especially if you were going to continue to drink.

Your track record with alcohol wasn’t exactly great and he’d never forgive himself if something happened and he wasn’t there just because the sight of you talking to Jett had left a bad taste in his mouth. But he couldn’t stand it any longer, watching you act so graceful all the time, especially to someone you didn’t particularly like, and then having to pretend that a simple kiss on the cheek didn’t absolutely wreck him. A kiss that you hadn’t since mentioned, and he wasn’t going to humiliate himself by insinuating that you wanted him in that way. No one wanted him in that way.

“What?” You breathe, face shifting into a sadness Eddie wanted to kick himself for. “No, you can’t go–”

“I’m sure Jett is ready and willing to entertain you.”

Low blow. He could always count on himself to deliver a low blow at the worst of times.

Eddie knew now that you had a distaste for Jett, he knew that. And yet he was stupid enough to continue using Jett as ammo against you for no reason other than his own insecurity. If he continued to push you away then it wouldn’t hurt so bad when you realized he was scum of the earth. Trailer trash. A nobody. That’s what he kept telling himself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You fume, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know, Bambi. You tell me cause I can’t figure you out.”

The use of his nickname for you stitched together with words of anguish only further confused you. You couldn’t seem to win.

“Can’t–can’t figure me out?!” You widen your eyes at him, only hoping to convey how ridiculous of a statement it is. “Can’t figure me out. What about you?! You’re the one no one can figure out!”

You’re on the verge of whining, begging in a sense. Pleading with the most stubborn man in the world and god only knows what you’ll do if he doesn’t stand down.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.” He states simply, monotone. It makes you want to yank your hair out by the roots and offer it to him, asking him if it’s enough. If it’s enough to shut up the voices in his head.

“Yeah? Because you don’t wanna let people in?!” Uncharacteristically, you jab a finger into his chest, frustration making itself known across your face and you only know because his eyes ever so slightly soften. “Eddie, all you do is give me mixed signals! How many times do I have to tell you I want nothing to do with Jett?! What do I have to do to get that through your thick fucking head?!” He tries to get a word in but you don’t give him an opportunity. “No, seriously! I need an instruction manual or something because I’m trying! I have been trying-”

“-I didn’t ask you to!” He finally interrupts, sorrow filling his eyes.

With a deep breath, you calm your heaving chest. It’s apparent you’re no longer cold, your skin hot from working yourself up. Steam may as well be coming from your ears though it wasn’t your intention to get so irritated with him.

“I wanted to. I want to.” Your voice comes out softer, a gentler approach to his sudden internal conflict.

“No.”

Turning away, he doesn’t quite move to leave but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s trying to shut you out. He’s trying to escape like some kind of feral animal but you refuse to give in. You refuse to let him.

“Yes. Eddie–look at me!” You demand with a small pull of his arm.

“No.”

He goes to turn his body even further away from you but the firm hold you have on his bicep stops him. He keeps his gaze on the floorboards below, his nose twitching and eyes burning with the threat of tears. You only know because you’re all too familiar with the mandatory frown that comes with holding them back.

“Stop doing that. Please.” You beg.

“I can’t be here right now–”

“What makes you think I can?”

He’s silent. The world instantly feels so quiet, tiny snow flurries fluttering around you, making you feel as if you’re the only two people on Earth. Echoes of the celebrating and hollering inside are faint although they don’t do much to pop the bubble you find yourselves in. Then he breaks the silence, daring to plead with you this time.

“Bambi, please.” He croaks.

Your initial thought is, please what? You’d been pleading with him back and forth for god knows how many minutes straight and here he was doing it right back to you. And for what? It wasn’t a good enough plea, not for you. You weren’t ready to let it go, if you even knew what “it” was.

“No, you’re coming inside and you don’t have to associate with me if you don’t want to but you’re coming inside.”

Your demand only seems to irritate him, his brows knitting together while he pinches the bridge of his nose in between his fingers. If he was agitated then you were about to become enraged. And that is not something you wanted. You never wanted to display that kind of emotion toward him but he was practically pulling it out of you and you had to fight against it. No one had ever been able to pull such a reaction out of you, not ever. Even if you had gotten pretty close, you swallowed it down and hid it.

“Why?!” Eddie seethes.

His outburst takes you back, though with the aggravation boiling within you, you were able to contain any reaction he was seeking, if any. That wasn’t the case for long though as you then launch yourself into another tantrum after staring for a second too long at his snarled lip.

“Because believe it or not, I care, Eddie!” You practically wail, your voice becoming hoarse. “If you leave I’m coming with you because I’m not leaving you alone. Not on Thanksgiving.” Your head shakes in denial.

Against your own will, a single tear trails down your cheek and the moment you feel it, you’re rapidly wiping it away, hoping he never even saw it when you knew damn well his umber eyes followed it all the way down your face. He only pulls his gaze away.

“I’m leaving. You’re staying here.” He decides, regret etched into his features.

In a final attempt to escape your grasp, he succeeds, feeling your fingertips linger for one last second before drifting away as he turns and makes his way down the porch steps, wood protesting beneath him. The noise is the only proof you have that he’s actually leaving, that he actually feels he’s not worthy enough to stay.

You refuse to give up so easily.

Your feet are already on a mission, nearly sprinting down the stairs even with the threat of slipping on the minimal amount of ice beginning to freeze over. Eddie pays no mind to the fast paced footsteps crunching against the gravel behind him, making his way over to Sugar with his head hung low. Your heart is racing, not just because you suddenly decided to sprint a few yards but because a healthy dose of dopamine has started coursing throughout your body, a good amount of anxiety accompanying it but not deferring you any longer.

Eddie makes it to Sugar, his hand reaching for the door only for it to be forced shut with a self-manicured hand. If he didn’t know who the hand belonged to he’d be chewing the owner out for daring to touch his beloved truck. Instead he rolls his eyes and turns as he prepares to reprimand you in a much more gentle manner than he would anyone else.

Except he doesn’t even have the chance when your lips are suddenly pressed to the corner of his mouth, your body pushing him against Sugar. His hands freeze mid air, his eyes wide open. Your hands are resting on his chest and–he can’t breathe. You pull away, inches from him and he can’t breathe, he can’t speak, he can’t move. As far as he’s concerned he isn’t even human anymore.

“Stay.” You whisper, your breath fanning over slightly chapped lips.

His lips won’t stop tingling, he can’t grasp the concept of what just occurred. He refuses to even touch you for fear that you might disappear right before him. Hell, he’s not even sure he’s allowed to.

It’s difficult to gauge his reaction, his heavy breath lingering with the smell of his cigarette that would probably gross you out had it been anyone else but for some reason, because it’s him, you don’t mind very much. You must smell strongly of wine which isn’t always pleasant so you figure you’re even.

“Please stay.” You repeat, nudging your nose into his.

It’s like he’s in a trance, his eyelids becoming lazy and his body relaxing when you reach up to trace your thumb ever so slightly over his jaw. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes squeezing shut, and you can hear a gulp in his throat. With his eyes still shut, he nods and before you can process it, he launches himself into your arms in a tight embrace, wrapping himself around you, his face buried in your neck. A wetness catches against your skin catches your attention, Eddie’s body heaving slightly and you just know.

You know that the tear stains on your skin mean more to him than you could ever imagine.

Slowly, your fingers tangle in his hair, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck to lightly scratch his scalp soothingly. The way he grips onto you tighter, his body shaking, only confirms that physical touch and affection was not a luxury he was allowed in his lifetime. If he let you, you’d spend thousands of hours holding him, even in the cold. Whatever he needed.

But the snow flurries began to grow larger and the wind started to pick up. And you’d be damned if you allowed yourself and Eddie to catch a nasty cold when you could be doing the same thing inside next to the fire. Though, as you thought about it, Eddie would probably shy away from your touch in front of everyone. And that didn’t anger you in the way it normally would. Because you couldn’t blame him, someone so touch starved that he began to sob the second he was willingly kissed and told he was wanted, for shying away from showers of physical affection in front of peers that only know him to be big, bad, Eddie Munson. It would be too much of a change and you weren’t willing to force that upon him.

So as the cold grew more unforgiving, you continued to hold him. He would be the one to decide when he felt he wanted to part from you. And if you both got sick, so be it. A stupid cold would be worth the price if you were able to provide him the touch he went so long without and so badly craved, even if he didn’t quite know it at first.

Eddie parted from you far sooner than anticipated. His cheeks were rosy, his rounded nose matching, endearingly so. His eyelashes were dotted with a few lingering tears, his eyes rimmed with red but sadness was absent from his features. Instead there was a fondness dripping from his expression and though he parted from the embrace to gaze down at you, he still clung to you like his life depended on it.

“Can I–can I kiss you?” He whispers shakily.

You want to laugh, only because he’s acting as if you didn’t kiss him in the first place. But you bury it deep down and only let a smile blossom.

“Please.” You whisper back.

This time, you’re more than happy to beg.

Hesitantly, his shaky hand cups your jaw, the warmth from his skin more than welcome as he gently slots his lips against yours. He’s slow with it, taking his time. As you move in rhythm with him, you encourage him, moving his arms to circle your waist, pressing yourself closer and letting your hands travel up his chest to lock behind his neck.

“I can’t stop.” He laughs quietly, continuously pecking your lips like he can’t get enough.

“Don’t.” You giggle into his mouth.

Teeth clash against teeth and though he hasn’t quite graduated to using tongue yet, you have the urge to introduce him. Before you can pass your tongue along his plump bottom lip, he curses under his breath as he pulls away, only causing worry to spread across your face.

“You’re freezing.” His hands rub up and down your arms to somewhat heat you up and only then do you realize your face feels completely numb.

“No, I’m fine.” You protest against your better judgment. It wasn’t exactly fitting to be in tights while one of the first snow falls of the year ensued.

“You’ll be a popsicle in like three seconds.”

Eddie softly smiles, reaching for your hand and tugging you with him toward the house. A whine escapes you, a pathetic whimper but you manage to shuffle yourself along with him. Before entering the realm of reality beyond the front door, Eddie turns to you, stars in his eyes, something glimmering.

“How’s my nose? Snotty?” He grins, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

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ellana-ravenwood · 1 year

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“I HATE YOU !” - Batfam/Batkids x fem!reader/Batmom

Synopsis : Not everything is always made of sunshines and rainbows. Sometimes, things go wrong. Sometimes, your children lash out at you, and scream : “I hate you !” before storming off...A story about how you handle those burst of anger from each of your kids, over the span of a few years.

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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DICK

"I HATE YOU !!”

He screams, running off and closing the door behind him violently.

BANG !!

You’re not sure that “bang” is the sound of the door slamming, or your heart breaking.

This was the first time your child said something so hurtful to you. And it was quite a shock. You weren’t sure how to react.

As if moved by instinct, Bruce immediately moved next to you, and put an arm around your shoulder, as if to shield you from the hurt. It was only a little bit comforting...

When he was younger, Dick struggled greatly with his anger. He had trouble managing it, and it’s only after a big fight with Bruce, and some times apart, that he truly started to understand himself, and become the man he was now.

The reason he left with the Titans, and then later, left for Bludhaven...was his mismanaged anger. And it was also yours and Bruce’s fault. You were still new parents, you were still learning, you didn’t always have the best reactions.

Bruce would react with anger too, which he knew now was the worst thing he could do. But to his defense (and you would always defend him), he was also just processing his trauma, and trying to navigate how to “tackle” his son’s own traumatic experience. He wasn’t sure how to act, with that kid.

He was too strict, he expected too much, because he wanted Dick to NOT reiterate his own mistakes. He wanted his boy to feel better, to be able to be happy...something he thought he could never be again, before meeting you.

It took a very long time for Bruce, to get out of this dark pit he buried himself in. He didn’t want Dick to take the same path. He wanted him to NOT be a second “Batman”. He wanted him to be his own man.

Which lead to a lot of mistakes. But hey, you couldn’t be a perfect parent all the time. And let’s admit it, Dick wasn’t always easy to handle. Especially during his fits of anger, which he sometimes had when he was young, and which slowly disappeared during his teenage years (although even today, if you truly managed to make him angry, he could get quite scary...Ah, but like father like son).

You didn’t even remember why he told you “I hate you”, it was all a blur now, years later. But you remember how you felt.

Heartbroken, like you failed as a parent. As if you weren’t enough for that little boy, who had lost everything and was “forced” to become part of your family.

That simple “I hate you” had triggered so many questions in yours and Bruce’s mind. How could you react ? Not like he gave you the time to, as he left the room right away.

What was the right reaction ? What if he did truly hate you ? What could you do to salvage this relationship ? What-

You were both so lost.

You would do many more mistakes as parents, but that day-

That day, things got resolved on their own, as Dick came back a few moments later, with an apologetic look on his face.

It was clear he wanted to pretend nothing had happened. Yet, that child had already a lot more emotional intelligence than most, and instead of ignoring everything, he just said :

“You know I love you, right ?”

And that was the end of it. And a first step to understand an important, and key thing about raising a child : sometimes, they WILL lash out at you. And say they hate you. But they never truly mean it. It’s just a way of processing an overwhelming amount of negative emotions. A way to protect themselves.

“I hate you.”, often comes from the opposite feeling. They love you so much, but they’re angry, and they think of the first thing that could hurt you and-

Dick never said it again after that. In fact, it was almost a biggest traumatic experience to him, than it was to you. Because he hated feeling this ugly things, and he hated hurting others, especially not those he loved. “I hate you”, were words he never meant towards anyone. He felt so bad, about telling them to you and Bruce, who took him in as your own child.

But beyond that, what made him entirely stop even thinking about saying that again. Beyond that, he never said it again, even when he fought with his dad, because he knew. He never crossed that limit again, because he knew. Him most of everyone, knew. Life was so short, and what if the last thing he told you or Bruce was : “I hate you ?”

He could never forgive himself. And for him too, this was an important step. One step closer, to controlling his anger, to understand himself, to let himself feel, and explain his feelings.

Yes. This first “I hate you”, was an important moment for all of you. Parents, and child. A first stone set upon a building, that would grow each year. A first experience showing that not everything could be perfect, and that mistakes would be made.

But as long as you were there for each others, and as long as you knew that no matter what, you would always love one another...You’d pull through the hardest times.

JASON

Talking about the hardest of times.

Jason was a good kid. He never once told you he hated you, before his death. On the contrary. The boy never shied away from expressing his feelings.

He would outright tell you and Bruce, that he loved you. He would show you by countless kind acts towards you two, that he was the happiest he’s ever been, since you adopted him.

Finally. Finally he felt safe and loved. Finally he had an actual family, people who cared about him...Why would he tell them that he hated them ?

No. Never would it have come to Jason’s mind to use those words towards you.

Oh, oh but after his death ? After his traumatic resurrection ? After he came back to Gotham City, only to find out you not only “replaced” him (his feelings towards Tim at first were...complicated), but you also never killed that hateful clown ??

Jason hated you. He hated you so much.

But it was because he loved you. He always worshipped you and his dad, viewed you as those perfect beings who saved him from a life of misery. This was probably “his” first mistake...Nobody was perfect.

But in Jason’s eyes, his mom and dad were. You and Bruce.

And so when he came back, and neither of you avenged his death, he felt so hurt that-

“I hate you.”

Those words, he said them a lot. In total contrast of him before the “incident”, before it all went to sh-.

“I hope you know I hate you. So much. I wish I had never met you.”

He wasn’t “half-assing” it, Dick would say. No. He definitely went “full ass” on you and Bruce, not hesitating for a second to express his high level of anger towards you two.

And the worst ? Neither of you were mad at him for it, on the contrary. His words summed up years of your life. Years of you two hating yourselves for not being able to save your son, and not having the guts to go through with it concerning “The Joker”.

You didn’t even think about defending yourselves. You understood how hurt he was. You-You deserved his anger. You deserved his hate.

Ah, but Jason never really truly hated you. Deep down, his harsh words were born from feeling hurt and rejected.

You two were the only persons who ever made Jason feel safe. When he came back, and saw you “moved on”, that you weren’t mourning him anymore (which wasn’t true, it might’ve appeared like that for the sake of Dick and Tim, but neither you nor Bruce could ever heal from one of your children’s death, the wound would always bleed), and that you didn’t take revenge-

He felt like it had all been fake. Like you never loved him. Like you lied to him, all those times you called him your son, or when you told him you loved him, and that he meant so much to you.

Jason hated you, because he thought you never loved him. How ironic, right ?

Thinking back to it, maybe you should’ve been more obvious with your feelings. Tell him since the first day you realized he came back, that you loved him, and that living without him was torture.

That losing him was unbearable, and that you and Bruce almost broke for good (but had to be strong for the rest of the family).

Maybe, you should’ve told him everything right away. And not let his anger fester. Not let him say more and more “I hate you”s. Maybe...

Ah, but it was easy, to look back at an event and think : “what if ?”.

Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. You were so shocked by Jason’s anger towards you, and thought so much you deserved it, that you didn’t immediately tell him how you truly felt.

And it took all of you so much time, to finally talk. To finally understand each other. To finally forgive. Jason, to forgive you. You and Bruce, to forgive yourselves.

So much wasted time...

Jason would always regret how he told you many times he hated you. Because it was never true. What he wanted to hear, in answer to those words, was : “I love you.”...He just didn’t know how to process all his emotions.

And you would always regret that it took you so damn long to finally chase after your son, and make sure he knew you loved him. Make sure he knew he meant everything to you.

It wasn’t a work you did alone. Thanks god for Alfred, Dick, and even Tim.

And thanks god for Jason’s strength, for how he was able to forgive, even as he-

Yes. This would be a great source of regret for all of you. Maybe that was why, nowadays, Jason would NEVER shy away (once more) to say “I love you mom”, and why you made sure you told him, and showed him your love, every chance you got...

TIM

Even the most loving, sweetest kids, sometimes say hurtful things.

Tim was one of those adorable children, who always wanted to help, whom you could always count on, but who would hide away his feelings too much for his own good, and would eventually break.

“When coming from a child in whom there is generally a love-based relationship, ‘I hate you’ is a normal part of emotional and psychological development”, said a psychotherapist to you once (mental health issues were given a very important place, in the Wayne’s household...None of you ever felt ashamed of needing a little professional help at times).

You experienced it with Dick and Jason. You knew it would eventually happen with Tim. Especially since he could be a little emotionally stunted at times.

Tim wanted SO MUCH to help, and to save everyone, and to be there for the one he loved...he would often burry his own feelings, and pretend everything was ok. And sometimes, like a volcano, he would explose.

Like today. But you were expecting it.

It hadn’t been long since, unfortunately, Conner passed away.

Conner Kent was an important person for your family. You always adored the kid (and he was the source of the very few fights you had with Clark, as you hated how he initially treated the boy). But he was probably the most important to your Tim.

Although he never admitted it by then, you were pretty sure your son was in love with Superboy. That they weren’t only the best of friends. And you were pretty sure Conner shared his feelings...

But now, now they could never truly talk about it.

Because Conner was gone. And he wasn’t coming back (A/N : yeah you know, comics, so we know he’ll eventually come back, but for the drama of it all, it seemed at the time that he wasn’t going to).

It was hard for your son to process that. He became even more obsessed with his “work”, skipping school to spend all his time on his vigilante cases.

And that day, he had skipped school once too many, and you and Bruce decided you would ground him. Forbid him, for a little while, to go out as Red Robin. And-

And that probably wasn’t your best idea. Probably wasn’t how you should’ve handled that at the time. Punishing him wasn’t the way to go, you knew that now. Oh, but it was easy, when you had the few steps back years later, to realize your mistake. On the moment though, it seemed like the only thing to do to save your son from dying out of exhaustion.

His reaction was both expected, and unexpected.

You knew he would snap at some point. You just didn’t expect him to snap because he was grounded...

“I HATE YOU !!” He screamed, truly angry, throwing a book across the room.

But you knew. You knew he didn’t hate you. He was hurt, and sad, and he didn’t know how to handle all his emotions.

He didn’t hate you, he hated himself.

He hated himself for not being able to save his friend. To save the man he loved. To-

Tim always made it his mission, to save everyone. Especially those close to his heart. And so this, was a failure he had a hard time handling.

It translated in that “I hate you” he threw your way.

But you knew. You knew how he felt.

“Well, it’s too bad, because I love you.”

You answered, and you could see he was taken aback by this. You could see he was struggling with himself, and wasn’t sure what to say.

“I love you, Tim. I love you so much.”

Tears. Welling up on the corner of his eyes. And then it was another kind of volcano erupting...

All sign of anger disappeared, as he collapsed in your arms, and finally-

Finally let himself mourn the death of his best friend, and first love.

DAMIAN

It happened not long after your youngest boy came into your life.

Damian had disappointed his dad. He knew it. He had killed a man, because he thought it was the only way to stop him from hurting his family.

It came from a good intention. He wanted to stop someone from arming his loved ones. He wanted to permanently make sure that person wouldn’t come back one day, and kill his dad, his siblings, or you (he hadn’t yet came to call you “mom”, but it would come soon).

It came from good intentions.

He wanted to protect. And the only way he was taught how to do that, while in the League of Shadows, was to kill. Because, what was more permanent than death ? What would assure your safety, but to kill the danger ?

But your son knew. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do that anymore. He knew his father expected him to do better. He knew...Yet he hadn’t been able to control himself. And he was feeling really bad about it.

Of course, Bruce would forgive him. Would not give up on him. But still, Damian disappointed him. He disappointed you. Or so he thought, at least.

He was feeling so bad about himself...And here it came.

Instead of expressing his feelings about all of that, instead of putting into words, or in drawing form for example (his go-to way to express himself), he lashed out.

And unfortunately, you were in his way. He turned his negative feelings towards you, but you weren’t about to let him run with it.

Damian wasn’t your first child. You had dealt with the “I hate you” phrase before, hell you even had to go through the very painful “You’re not my REAL mom” one (you can read this in that story : “You’re not my real mom”)...You more or less knew how to handle it now.

An immediate emotional response would only make it worst. And so, as Damian yells :

“I HATE YOU !!” at you, after you tried to talk to him about what he did (you wanted to comfort him, he took it the wrong way...which could happen with anyone), you took a deep breath.

You stayed silent for a few seconds. And then you looked at him right in the eyes, and said :

“No, I’m sorry. You may not speak this way to me. Let’s try to calm down first and then get to the bottom of what is going on. I can tell you are feeling very stressed, angry, overwhelmed. I can imagine a lot is going on and it’s making you feel such strong emotions inside, emotions of 'hate.' You probably feel you hate everything, all the things you need to do and all the stuff 'we' make you do. It’s hard. I know. Let’s talk about it.”

Damian was stunned. He did not expect this response. He thought you would hate him in return, or be mad at him.

“Hating me or using those words to express your anger is not going to help you fix how you’re feeling. It may make you feel 'good' in the moment of saying it, but not later. You will likely feel regret, feel sorry, feel bad. That doesn’t feel good. So, no saying that. But let’s talk about all the stress you feel. Let’s talk about your feelings, Damian. Please. Tell me what’s wrong, and how we can fix it."

Damian wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t.

He had never been taught to accept failure. Nobody ever told him it was ok to not feel well. Nobody- Nobody ever expressed understanding towards him.

He felt his throat choking up. He felt tears coming to his eyes. He felt-

He turned away from you, still use to hide those feelings. Still used to not show any sign of weakness. He turned away- But you delicately caught his chin in your hand, and turned his face back to you.

And in your eyes...In your eyes, he could see that you wouldn’t give up on him. That you wouldn’t turn away, even as he made mistakes. That you were here for him. That you-

That day, you received from him a hug. The very first hug he ever gave you. And of course, you answered it by wrapping him in your own arms.

And Damian felt safe. Wanted. Loved. And he heard himself spill everything to you. He heard himself talk to you about his worries, about how he hated himself, about-

Everything.

He told you everything. And most of all, he told you that of course, he didn’t hate you. He could never hate you.

CASS

Cass wanted to hurt you. She was so angry, frustrated and upset, that her next few words were specifically aimed at hurting your feelings :

“I hate you.”

She says flatly, yet in a very definite tone. She knows what she’s doing, and she knows she’ll most likely regret it later. But right now, blinded by rage, she says those dreadful words anyway.

Unfortunately for Cass, by now, you knew that when one of your children lashed out at you in that way, they didn’t truly mean it. You and Alfred came to an analogy, for when your kids would suddenly want to hurt you with their words :

They were like a tea kettle.

In that way, that when the water's boiling, the kettle sings, and is too hot to handle. It takes time for the water to get back to room temperature. Right ? Well, when their water was too hot, they simply couldn’t think clearly anymore, as they entered fight or flight mode. Which is why they reflexively use the hate word, to "protect" themselves from their vulnerable feelings.

Right now, Cass’ water was way too hot, for reasons that honestly wouldn’t matter anymore in a few hours. And so she said : “I hate you.”

Step by step. A deep breath. A small silence. And then you say :

"No, you don’t hate me. But I know that at times we don’t see eye to eye or it feels I am in your way or that I don’t understand. You’re right, I don’t always understand, but I want to. Sometimes, I am in your way, simply because I am still raising you. It’s OK if you don’t always agree with me. My job is not for us to agree on everything but to hopefully provide you with what you need for a few more years until you’ll take care of yourself all on your own."

This seems to fuel her rage even more. How dare you be understanding, while she’s trying to hurt you ? How dare you answer her bile with kind words ?

"I get that you’re angry but hate is not the way to label that or express that. I want us to be able to discuss our differences and even teach each other things. I also want to hear what you have to say. So, no more saying, 'I hate you’, regardless of how angry, frustrated, or stressed you feel. From now on, you will just tell me about your feelings and I will listen. Alright ?'

Not alright. At least for her, in that moment. Instead of talking, she glares at you, turn around, and leaves, slamming the door behind her, with all her might. Too angry to listen, or to talk. And you know what ? It was ok.

It was ok, if things weren’t immediately resolved in the moment. You had learned that, over the years. It was ok, if right now, she was not willing to talk it out. To explain. To release her anger. She just needed time. And that was ok.

And so you let her storm off, and waited.

You didn’t have to wait for very long. A few hours later, she came back to you. Looking ashamed, and sad.

Ah, but you made sure she had nothing to feel ashamed off. It was ok to be angry, it was ok to not know how to handle one’s own emotions. It was a good learning process, wasn’t it ?

“Sorry.”

She told you, and what else was there to do, but to take her into your arms ?

DUKE

“I hate you..”

Duke whispers, and although you know he doesn’t mean it, your heart still squeeze in that very uncomfortable way...

But you understood. You understood.

You and Bruce just signed official papers to make him your son, as his parents weren’t getting any better, and it was clearer and clearer they would never heal from what the Joker did to them.

But Duke still had hope. He still thought they could be saved. And he held onto that hope, even as he slowly settled in his life at Wayne Manor. Even as, despite himself, he slowly started to see you and Bruce as his second parents.

And here you were, sighing adoption papers, making it official that his parents would never be the same ever again.

To him, you were representing his shattered hopes. He had truly lost his parents...

Of course, he would “hate” you in that moment. Of course. But by then, you were used to your children not being well, and lashing out their negative feelings at you. So you start by saying :

"There is a lot going in your life and I can understand how sometimes you just want nothing to do with any of it, and that-”

“DON’T ACT AS IF YOU UNDERSTAND !”

He does not let you finish, and his whispers turn into screams. He feels so angry, so lost, so desperate. His last hope of having his parents again is gone, and you’re trying to comfort him ??

Proof that, even after decades of being a parent, you don’t always have the right words, or you don’t always do the right thing to soothe your child.

You take a step back, a deep breath, and-

You don’t say anything. This wasn’t the “I hate you” screamed because you told him “no” about something. This was the “I hate you” born from utter desperation and sadness. He still didn’t mean it. But he needed to say it.

So you let him.

You feel Bruce’s hand on your back, as per usual, your husband is always near for you. You’re stronger, together. He’s your rock, you’re his pillar.

Together, you can face this. You can go through it because you know you have support. You know he’s going to be there for you, and you for him. It makes things so much easier, to know there’s at least one constant in your life...

You don’t say anything, and you let Duke tell you a few more times that he hates you. You let him leave the court, and run off on his own. You’re worried, of course, but you know-

You know he needs the time alone. You know he needs to process things, alone. You know he’ll come back to you, once he’ll feel ready.

And so for now, you and Bruce wait. His arms around you, yours holding him. Comforting each other with your mere presence. His fingers massaging your scalp, your hands running soothing circles on his back.

You’re not alone for this. You’re parents, together. And you’ll figure that out, together. Worst things come to worst...There’s always Alfred, to run to for advices, right ?

But you got this. You got it.

And Duke does too. Right now, he needs to be angry. But he’ll come around. And he’ll realize that truly...He’s not actually alone in this.

_________________________________________________

A short bonus story, as I only managed to write this today (feeling a bit under the weather). I hope you liked it nonetheless ! As per usual, comments/reblogs always greatly appreciated, motivating, and welcomed <3. Thank you in advance, and see you soon with a longer, more fleshed out story.

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usercupid · 11 months

Text

Mixed Signals

hi yall! i know i have a history of making fics then disappearing but i actually have plans into making this a series! i don’t know how long it’ll span but i’m thinking 3 or 4 chapters so stay tuned if u like the story! 🪷🤍 also srry the ending is rushed cause im tired and just want to finish this!

elliot x fem reader

lowercase on purpose

not proofread

2.3k words

synopsis; you and elliot were best friends, and despite being flirtatious, there was never really anything going on between you two.. right?

Chapter 1: History class

junior year was rough. the new schedule adjustments, not knowing anyone in this new school, and being smart enough to not completely fail but also not smart enough to effortlessly pass all weighed down on you. you could get by being alone, but it was never easy. that was up until you met elliot.

“elliot, we have to finish this history project.” you advised. of course, you didn’t actually mean we. you always ended up carrying the weight of the work whenever you worked with him. normally, doing all the work in a group project would drive you up the wall. but whenever you got around elliot, you felt as if his presence was enough. you never pushed for anything more from him.

he was also your first best-friend, and you were his. nothing could compare to the nights you spent on the phone with him, whether you were doing algebra homework, or trying to pick out a dress for your first party, he was always there.

elliot took a pull from the blunt you both were smoking and it became infinitely hard for you to not stare. “y/n,” elliot started as he exhaled the smoke, “we have more than 2 weeks to finish this. and all we really have to do is copy what we wrote in our notebooks onto the poster board! it can’t be that difficult angel”

there was that nickname again. he’s used it plenty of times before now, but its weight never faltered because it always made you weak in the knees.

“but still, i’d like to finish this now so we have time for ourselves later,” you sighed, and in an attempt to hide your flustered face, you began copying down your notes to your poster.

“time for ourselves? what do you have in mind?” elliot teased as a sly smile appeared on his face, taking another hit from the blunt.

he didn’t know if the weed was making him bolder, or if it was the way the light from his window perfectly dawned on your relaxed figure, but elliot began to admire your features.

you were so soft with him, never making him feel smaller than you. always taking his feelings into consideration and looking out for him. even now, where you seem uptight, elliot couldn’t help but admire.

he couldn’t pinpoint just exactly what about you in this moment was enticing him like never before, but regardless of what it was, he couldn’t stop staring. and unbeknownst to elliot, you sensed him eyeing you down.

“y’know if you keep looking at me like that, i won’t get any work done.” you giggled, looking up at him.

“well that would be just terrible” he mused as he got up from his seat on the floor and moved closer to you on the bed to pass you the joint. he then held the blunt up to your lips and as you inhaled, you looked up at him. his eyes were low, red, and they never seemed to leave yours. he was so close, you were able to feel the warmth radiating off his body, and somehow, you never felt more comfortable.

his cool fingertips had just barely grazed your lips but that single, electrifying touch left you longing for more of him, and it took every ounce of strength you had to not ask.

after what felt like a century (but was just 6 seconds), he removed the blunt from in between your lips and watched you inhale the smoke, then exhale slowly. everything you did was hypnotic to him, and he couldn’t get enough.

the next day, you sat with jules and rue in the cafeteria. elliot decided to eat off campus for lunch, and you were glad that you hadn’t seen him all day yet. if you were being honest, you had been avoiding him all day.

you weren’t mad or upset at him by any means, but you just didn’t know what to say to him. i mean, what could you say? your relationship was always flirty, so why has it just hit you now?

“can i tell you guys something?” you blurted to your friends sitting across from you.

as you asked, you started to mindlessly scroll through you and elliot’s messages. you had never thought your feelings towards elliot were anything other than platonic up until a few weeks ago, and yesterday had only confirmed that you wanted him more than you’d like to admit.

“yeah sure, wassup?” rue asked, munching on her sandwich

“would you ever see me and elliot as.. you know,” you hesitated, “a thing? like together?”

“wait.. you guys aren’t ‘a thing?’” mocked jules. “i could've sworn you guys we’re together!?”

rue laughed to herself as she began to speak, “yeah i mean, you guys are always flirting with each other? i just assumed you guys were dating ‘nd just didn’t say.”

“you think so?” you questioned, fiddling with your well-manicured nails. you never saw anything between elliot and you until recently so there is no way that everyone else saw what you were so blind to.. right?

“yes, y/n, oh my god! i can’t believe you guys aren’t already dating!” jules exclaimed while giggling with rue. “i never want to hang out with the two of you alone because i feel like a third wheel!”

you were utterly surprised by the words that were coming out of your best friend's mouths. there was no way other people could see you guys together. there was no way they truly thought that.

you made a face as if all the gears in your head were turning, and in all honesty, they were. they were working their hardest as you started thinking that if everyone sees you both as a couple, that would have to mean he shows some sort of romantic feelings for you, right? he has to have looked at you in some way or said something to make everyone think you guys went out, right?!

“wait so you think he likes me too?” you excitedly asked.

“if his goo-goo eyes everytime you walk in weren’t a dead giveaway to how he feels, you should know he speaks about you every second of the day..” jules confessed, “whenever he starts telling me pointless ass stories about things you’ve guys have done together, i honestly just zone out.”

“how haven’t you noticed any of this? it’s so stupidly obvious, it’s not even funny” rue mumbled with a mouth full of food.

“i don’t know?! i just never thought of him — or us like that!” you said, laughing exasperatedly.

“probably ‘cause she’s in love too!” jules teasingly exclaimed. you knew she was joking, but for as long as you’ve known him, all you ever wanted to do was spend all day with him. he always showered you with attention and quality time. and even if he didn’t, you’d still drop everything to be with him. there was never any words or actions that needed to be spoken or done between the two of you in order for you to feel appreciated and loved.

loved. you would never bat an eye if you used that word to describe your relationship with him before.

“you guys should just get together,” rue said, crashing your train of thought as she gathered her stuff for her next class, “you're both ‘best friends’ already so nothing would have to change, right?”

you didn’t respond.

on one hand, it seemed like there was absolutely nothing to lose. apparently, he’s given multiple signs that he likes you so why not? why couldn’t you shake the feeling that everything would change?

“y/n, you don't have to make a decision right now, but remember that elliot would never do anything to make whatever you guys have going on weird. he genuinely cares,” jules reaffirmed, standing up from the table.

“thanks jules, but i honestly don’t think i’m gonna ‘make a decision.’ i just want to let things work themselves out so i don’t have to” you said, getting you things and going to your history class.

walking into your class, you immediately sensed elliot was there, despite him being sat in the far back. you didn’t really know what to say after that night in his room, on top of the bombshell rue and jules had just dropped on you.

as you walked into the class, you tried to scan for an empty seat that wasn’t the seat next to him. normally, you’d sit there with no hesitation, but you hadn’t prepared yourself enough to have the conversation that so desperately needs to be held.

fuck. you thought as you saw there were no more empty seats, annoyance written on your face.

you made your way to the desk nexts his and tried your hardest to avoid any unnecessary eye contact.

skipping this class would’ve been easier than enduring 45 minutes next to someone you’re trying your hardest to steer clear of but some shit just can’t be helped.

as you sat down and the lesson began, everything seemed to be going well except for the watchful pair of eyes that followed your every move.

you felt them as you picked up your pencil to jot down notes, as you took a sip from your water bottle, to when you opened your phone. you felt your energy being snuffed by his piercing gaze.

“maybe if i just ignore him he’ll stop.” you hoped to yourself.

15 minutes had gone by and he has not stopped once. you couldn’t figure out if he was doing it on purpose to make you freak out or if he was just that nosey but you finally had enough.

“don’t stare, it’s rude.” you seethed silently, looking at him for the first time since class started

“oh you decided you want to talk to me now? to what do i owe the honor” elliot haphazardly taunted.

“damn he noticed i was ignoring him” you thought to yourself.

“only ‘cause you’ve been staring at me for the past like, 15 minutes?”

“only ‘cause you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“i haven’t been ignoring you?” lie 1.

“you haven’t?”

“no” lie 2.

“so why haven’t you said a word to me like, all day?”

“we just have nothing to speak about” lie 3.

“you sure? cause i heard something completely different from jules”

of course.

of course she was the reason you got caught in your lies. you internally laughed to yourself and left a mental note to never trust jules with anything even mildly important again.

but on the bright side, thank god he stopped interrogating you or else your conscience would’ve started eating you alive to feed all those lies you were spouting. i guess in an odd way, you’d be able to thank jules for saving your conscience. or maybe not.

“oh really?” you smirked “what did jules tell you then?” you couldn’t let your facade fall. you knew how to work your way out of shit, even if jules mucked up your oh-so-amazing plan.

“not much” elliot replied, “she just told me you had something to say to me”

you sighed to yourself. you could either keep playing this game of avoiding talking about your situation-ship, or come clean and possibly ruin what you both have.

you know that there’s a chance that he wants you back. but why ruin what you both have right now? it’s like when you’re doing your eyebrows and they’re absolutely perfect, but you keep plucking at them to make them even better, and before you know it, you end up over plucking and now have 2 uneven brows!

why ruin what’s already been so good to you? you’re both fine with what you were.

“well she was wrong,” you finally said. “do you have anything to say to me?” a tinge of hopefulness written in that question.

after a few seconds of silence, he replied,

“no.”

see, you knew you shouldn’t have pushed it. everything could’ve been gone in a matter of seconds.

“cool.” you uttered.

you picked up a blackberry from the bowl of fruit you were snacking on and ate it while retelling maddy and cassie everything that happened in history yesterday.

“cool?” maddy repeated “why the fuck would you say cool y/n?”

“yeah you’re giving him mixed signals” cassie chimed in.

“i honestly didn’t know what else to say like, i knew if i said anything more, i could ruin 3 years worth of friendship.”

“yeah but by not saying anything you could’ve ruined 3 years worth of friendship” sighed cassie “if one day you guys were hotboxing in his room getting close, and the next you’re giving him the cold shoulder, what’s he supposed to think?”

“it’s not like he wanted to speak about it though so why should i be the one that has to?” you asked, popping a mango cube in your mouth.

“so you want him to come to you?” maddy questioned, “i’m confused why you’re even stuck over him anyway. if you’re not dating why is your relationship this stressful? take advantage of you’re stress-free, single life girl!”

“maybe you’re right about that, i mean, if we’re not together why am i even overthinking this?” you giggled, sitting up from your bed.

“no yeah, don’t stress over shit like this. if you want him to make the first move and he doesn’t, just stay friends and find someone else” maddy suggested.

just as maddy said that, a notification popped up on your phone.

elliot 🤍; do u want to come over tmr?

#elliot x reader #euphoria #euphoria x reader #elliot euphoria #elliot imagine #writing #euphoria fic #maddy x reader #cassie x reader #rue x reader #jules x reader #euphoria x y/n #euphoria x fem!reader #euphoria x you #elliot x you #mixed signals #usercupid

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