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dear-yandere · 2 years

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sinner, saint.

yandere! scaramouche x f! reader (+ implied yan! dottore x reader x yan! patalone). scenario, harbingers’ shared darling au.

› word count: 1.7k › tw: physical abuse (choking, electrocution), explicit imagery of starvation, nonconsensual groping, implied past noncon, implied past nonconsensual medical play, victim-blaming, brief suicidal ideation.

art belongs to 大神　知狼 (pixiv).

( i loved you as icarus loved the sun— too close, too much. )

“i-i couldn’t stop them.”

you’re pleading now. the statement burns your throat and it takes all you have just to welcome it. to welcome the sensation of feeling, to the sensation of being alive.

so you welcome it as if it’s your last. it may as well be.

“liar.” comes his response, detached and disinterested from the weight of his words. “you didn’t even try, did you?” his voice isn’t composed and practiced like it normally is, now replaced with wanton anger and embarrassment, and laced with hints of sorrow. he kneels atop your body, his weight stifling and tiresome against your weakened bones. the back of his thighs dig harshly into your bony hips, but you haven’t the energy nor the mental fortitude to push him off. “you took it like a whore”, he growls. “you didn’t even cry out. you didn’t even ask for help.” he doesn’t know that, but the false accusations mean little to you. he won’t believe otherwise.

but your heart still aches. you expected him to believe you, of all people. that you wouldn’t dare let them defile you like they had, that you are loyal to him and him alone.

“you’re fucking disgusting.” he spits. you can smell blood on his hands, but when you look down, they are pristine, even as they clamp around your throat with intent to squeeze. his grip on your neck is tolerable for the moment, but you can feel the twitch of his joints as he restrains himself from killing you right then.

because when he looks down on you, all he sees is a tragedy. scaramouche has always held a thinly-veiled contempt for you, but the sight before him is disgraceful. your skin sinks against what little muscle you’ve managed to retain. flesh clings to bone, punctuated by a flimsy nightgown which falls against your ribcage like a noose. the sheer bodice collects beneath your breasts, pooling in a pathetic display of satin immodesty. littering your chest and breasts are countless scars and hickies, some so fresh they are the cause of the disgraceful situation you’ve found yourself in. the worst mars congregate around your abused nipples, where upon further examination, he finds puncture marks indicative of a needle. his vision blurred red at the edges when his eyes fell on the patches brutalized skin mere moments ago. he doesn’t dare look lower. because aside from the pitiful state of your physical health, the disgusting markings which decorate your breasts were none of his doing.

“how could you let them touch you like this?”

scaramouche doesn’t like what they do to you. if you were his, you would suffer differently. you would be his and he would choose what punishments you shall endure. you would be his and he could break you himself.

he has to force himself to look at your brutalized body. despite the skin which clings to your bones like a noose, you are still breathing. you are still alive, and it fills this harbinger with an unforetold rage. how could you let them defile you like this? what have they done to you that even you refuse to disclose to him? what have they done to make you fear them more than you fear him?

“you must’ve liked it.” he accuses, disregarding the look of dissent in your eyes. the image of pantalone and dottore having their way with you while he was gone makes him want to scream. “you wouldn’t have let them lay a hand on you otherwise, right?” he knows it’s a lie. you don’t have the slightest say in how the harbingers choose to spend their time with you so long as they return you in one piece. “you like the way they hurt you.”

a realization hits him.

“you like them more than me.”

his free hand thumbs callous circles into the fresh punctures and hickies dotting your right nipple; without warning, he presses down, and you cry out. to be shared amongst the harbingers — you are so powerless in this arrangement. so visionless and vulnerable and so utterly weak in every aspect of the word; and yet, within the tragedy that is you, there is still resilience. there is still defiance and there is still, above all, hope. one that has been obscured beneath layers of blood and tears, one that inlaid itself against your shallow and broken bones, one that will die and rot with you like a boneless dog clinging to any nourishment it can find.

“when will you stop lying to me, [name]?”

his hands leave your exposed, aching breasts and find their place against your neck. he fits perfectly around your throat. under his touch, you can still bend, but you will not break. not yet. not until he wills it.

before you can beg him to stop, the air caught in your throat is wrung from existence. electricity quickly fills the void it left behind, fills the gaps between your synapses, fills them to the brim with wanton thunder and lightning. dainty hands clamp around his wrists, willing them away with what little strength you can muster, but it isn’t enough. overpowering any of your subjugators is in futile attempt. the electricity isn’t even the worst of it. it’s his hands. the way they wrap around your neck like a noose. the way they squeeze like the blade of a guillotine. the way the falter just before you die, because he doesn’t want you to die. not yet. because death is too good for you, because in his hands, he is god and you are his plaything.

it’s only within his hands can you learn that death bows to him.

“i should just kill you.” he says, but the sound is muffled to your ears. everything has gone numb, and all you can do is watch his delirium. fingernails press into the sides of your neck to leave bloody scars, but all you can hear is remnants of his incensed tirade. “i won’t need to share you with those disgusting insects if you’re dead!” he laughs wildly, and through your blurred vision, you see him lean in. the look in his eyes is crazed, bloodshot with tears and anger. his lips are pulled back over his teeth, which clench together so harshly you wonder if they’ll break. “you’ll finally be mine.”

there are tears in his eyes. he’s in pain. as if he’s sapped the pain from your bones and taken it upon himself.

your heart aches for him.

you begin to seize.

it’s brief this time, the convulsions. you can no longer feel it. the only constant is that the room is spinning and your head is bursting and there’s a fire beneath your skin, but you can no longer feel it. you wonder when your mind will numb like your body has, but it never comes. you had always thought death to be deep blackness, but in its place, you see light. stars have fallen from the sky itself to dot your eyes, and you wonder if they’ve come to mark your end.

but the gods have always been unkind.

“then please...kill me.” you manage to say, wondering if your voice will get lost within the light, too.

it doesn’t.

because he pauses. there is hope and pity in your voice, and he finds an inkling within himself—to destroy it, to pull it from the pedestal it’s managed to erect in the midst of disaster and ruin it. so he loosens his grip, and that faint light within your eyes refuses to snuff out. you’re gasping for air — your body can’t help but crave it, no matter how much your mind craves death.

“don’t be stupid.” he croons. his voice is softer now, apologetic, and you don’t even flinch when he gently thumbs the fingerprint markings on your neck. against your better judgement, you find yourself clinging to the hope that he’ll let you live. that he’ll let you go and never hurt you again. that he’ll protect you from those who only wish to harm you. it’s a foolish thought — perhaps you are as stupid as he says — but hope is the only thing holding you afloat.

“you can’t leave me too.” his whispers, letting his head hang listlessly. his body untenses, and he brushes away wet strands of hair clinging to your forehead so gently you wonder if he’s had a change of heart. a hint of curiosity flashes crosses your face, and despite the tiredness you’re desperately trying to fight off, your interest urges him on. the tears swelling at his eyelids finally fall, and he detests the sight. the very thing that made her cast him aside. “if i told you who i really am, would you abandon me?” he mindlessly collect the tears from your cheeks. “will you leave me like she did?”

you cannot fathom what he’s been through to cause him such anguish. he is never this gentle with you, never this vulnerable. this isn’t scaramouche anymore, and you cling to it. this vulnerability, this leverage.

you give him the answer he wants.

“i...i won’t,” it was out of self-preservation, you hope, but an insignificant part of your gut tells you otherwise. it couldn’t be that you care for him... right? after all he’s done to you?

maybe you are stupid.

he smiles gently, as if he’d expected that much. you’ve always been so easy to read...so easy to manipulate.

his hands cup your cheeks and lift your gaze to meet his. his actions are still harsh, but there is hope and pity in his eyes. the same hope and pity in yours.

“then know this well. death is a luxury you do not deserve.”

his voice is still soft even as he says such harsh words. its meaning is directed at himself, but you don’t need to know that. you don’t need to see any more of his hurt, no more than he’s already bared.

hands hover around you neck once more, and he holds you like he would a chess piece — and squeezes.

you’re gasping for air again, but death only answers to him.

#yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere kunikuzushi x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact imagines #*scenarios #tw: noncon #tw: starvation #tw: physical abuse #tw: physical violence #tw: suicidal idaetion #tw: malnourishment #harbinger's shared darling au

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gifsofstar · 6 months

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1.09 || 1.11 || 1.12

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 6 months

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i’d love to hear more black mask stuff!! arkhamverse portrayal of him is so underrated

Fr, it's a shame he got sidelined in what was marketed as his own fucking game lol

The comics version is actually even more brutal than the Arkhamverse one, but I imagine him not harming his Darling unless he feels it's the only way to keep them in line. Like if he can threaten them, harm or kill someone in front of them, or just physically GRAB them then he'll do that. It's pretty goddamn toxic.

On a spicier note, I once read a Hc that he absolutely has a sex dungeon and I concur! Also he has many black gloves and he organizes them based on their use: business, hands-on "business", winter weather, and the ones he's happy to fingerfuck his Darling with. Sometimes there's some overlap and his men can tell there's some extra...shine...on his leather gloves 👀

#thots #.black mask #.dc #.arkhamverse #yandere black mask #yandere dc #yandere arkhamverse #tw: physical violence #like he and Joker have the rare achievement of torturing a Robin. and Black Mask didnt kill Steph but that was only revealed later that she #was alive

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sortofanobsession · 11 months

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Unsure and Unconventional, to say the least (Ted Lasso Fic)

Author's note: because the Uncle's Day scenes made me think a lot of things. Phoebe would have Jamie wrapped around her finger in like .01 seconds. They would be a mischievous duo. And the team would be like awww that's cute.

Parts of this fic partially Inspired by:

an answered ask (HERE) by @andfrecklesandyoursmile about Roy giving his sister Jamie's contact for "emergencies".

@politelymenacing did a post that (THIS ONE) That may have helped inspire some dialog.

So credit to those brilliant post.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

OT3 Roy/Keeley/Jamie Romantic ship. Platonic team dynamics.

Content warning: Cursing/Swearing (lots of it because Roy Kent is gonna Roy Kent), Mentions of abuse, Mentions of physical violence, Mentions of hospitals, Self-Esteem Issues (because Jamie Tartt...), Polyamory, Anxiety, Anger Issues, Fear.

Word count: 8k+ (this one got away from me and that is why it took days to finish)

Read on AO3 here

Unsure and Unconventional, to say the least

“Coach?” Will says as he nears Roy Kent as the coach oversees training on the pitch. “Someone’s here to see you. They’re in the office.”

Roy’s brows furrow. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Keeley would have just come out and joined them on the sidelines. He grunts in acknowledgment and heads inside.

“Uncle Roy!” he hears as soon as he reaches the doorway.

“Phoebe?” He says, accepting the little girl’s hug when she reaches him. He looks over to see his sister talking to Trent Crimm. Trent Crimm moves to the doorway. Stopping to offer to take Phoebe so she could say hi to the team.

“Can I please, Uncle Roy? I want to say hi to Jamie,” Phoebe looks up at him with those big eyes he just can’t say no to, or at least say no and mean it. He looks to his sister, who shrugs.

“What? They're friends now too,” his sister says, challenge clear in her tone. “That a problem, Roy?”

Trent watches the Kent siblings with silent interest. Phoebe practically buzzed with excitement as she waits for an answer next to him.

“A 25-year-old prick cannot be friends with an 8-year-old girl,” Roy glares.

“That bridge is long crossed, dear brother,” she laughs. “Especially after Uncle's day.”

“Uncle's day?” Trent asks with a grin.

“Fuck off, Crimm,” Roy grunts. His sister just gives him a fond and familiar look. “Fine,” Roy relents. “You can go say hi to Jamie, but stay out of the line of play. And don’t-”

But she is already gone, an amused Trent following close behind. Phoebe tells him all about Uncle's day as she goes.

His sister grins. “She’s just going to bother Jamie. Thought you’d at least find that amusing.”

Roy grunts. “Too bad the prick will enjoy it.” Roy winces it. “That just sounds so fucked up.”

“You make it sound so wrong that she likes your friends,” his sister says. “That you think the people you have surrounded yourselves with are criminals.”

“How would you know if they are or aren’t?” he glares at her.

“Because you’d have kicked them in the teeth and sent them packing if they were. Jamie Tartt might be a prick, but even I know he’d probably die before letting anything happen to Phoe, especially if his childhood was half as shit as you’ve said. And he can’t be a complete twat if he sat through the whole of Uncle's day.” She grins.

“Alright, cut the shit. What’s wrong?” He is quick to change the topic. “I know you’re not here to talk about Jamie fucking Tartt?”

“You sure about that?” She raises a brow. He growls. “Fine, I need you to take her this weekend. One of my colleagues was supposed to speak at a conference, and the prick went and caught something on holiday.”

“So now you have to go?” he asks.

“Fuck no,” she says. “I’m covering for the poor bastard that does, which means I’m working a double.”

“Fuck that,” Roy says, annoyed on her behalf.

“I know you have a match, and this might ruin your plans with Keeley-" she starts, but he doesn't care what else she has to say.

“Fuck off. It’s fine. We’ll take her,” Roy doesn’t even hesitate to say. “Kid always comes first. You know that.”

“I know,” she nods. "Thanks."

"You don't need to fucking thank me," he states.

"I don't, but I'm still going to, you fucking prick," she says fondly. "Every time, no matter how much you curse or growl."

"You could have just texted me," Roy says.

"Yeah, but then I couldn't ruin your whole day by asking you the same question you have avoided answering. Can't avoid it in person."

Roy growls, and his glare intensifies. Most people would probably hesitate to continue. Or even hurry to leave. Not his sister. She was used to Roy's behavior decades ago. Roy would kill for his sister. Die for Phoebe. And he'd do it happily. She knew that.

"Roy, you can't just ignore your feelings forever." She holds a hand up to stop whatever argument he was about to make. "You can, and you probably would. I know you, Roy. I know that you-"

"Don't," he cautions. She sighs.

"You might think that you're hurting just yourself here, but you're not. And that's not fair to anyone." She doesn’t drop specific names because she doesn’t want to risk anyone hearing the specifics. And she knows there isn't any point in pushing more now. "And I know you don't actually want to hurt him. You'll make the right call eventually." She grins. Before heading in the direction of the tunnel out to the pitch.

"You're lucky that you're my sister," he growls when he catches up to her.

"And that you love us, I know," she bumps her shoulder against his. He hums more than he grunts for once as he walks. He gives into that voice in the back of his head that he used to always ignore when in public, even if it's just the dog track on a training day. He puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into a half hug as they walk. God, she might be a pain in the arse, but he loved his sister and her kid. He may have smiled just a little as she returned the gesture.

"You know I'm just trying to look out for you. Like you always do us," she says as they walk out of the tunnel toward the pitch. "You may think you're happy now, just think how much better it could be."

"You spend too much time with Keeley, and she spends too much time with Ted and Rebecca," he laments.

"I'm just glad we finally get to spend time with your friends. Richmond really has brought the best out of that boy from Chelsea that kicked Brock Lorens' arse at the commons."

"Do it again, too," Roy grunts. "Fucking deserved it."

"He was a bellend," she grins.

"He gave you a black eye. That's not a bellend. That's a fucker with a death wish."

"Who has a death wish now?" Ted asks as they reach them. Roy drops his arm as they do. "Hey there, Doc." Ted greets her.

"Coach Lasso, Crimm," she nods. "Coach Beard." He responds with a nod.

She turns her attention back to Ted as he speaks. "Glad to see you outside the ER, or is it ED here? Heh, that always sounds so odd to me. ED means something very different where I'm from," Ted says. "Probably just nice to get out of those scrubs. Those always seemed so starchy," he continues earning an amused look from her and a growl from Roy.

"It is nice to meet in a less sterile but just as chaotic environment," she says. Her brother has warned her to pretty much ignore most of what Ted Lasso says. She looks out to where Phoebe has seemed to draw the attention of most of the Richmond team. "Hopefully, my daughter hasn't caused too much commotion."

"Aw, the boys could always use a bit of a break," Ted assures her. "No harm, no foul."

She chuckles as a player, one she recognizes as Dani Rojas gives Phoebe a bear hug that lifts her feet off the ground. Phoebe's laughter carried across the pitch. Her brother grunts. She knew she was pushing it the longer they hung around. Her brother used to keep his professional and personal lives separate. Didn't like the way his teammates would look at her. This team was different. He seemed to trust them a lot more. And she could seem to see why. But she was still playing a dangerous game, treading on her brother's nerves. He takes his job very seriously, and they were disrupting it.

"Should probably let you lot get back to it."

"Well, go on, coach," Ted says to Roy. "Know you want to."

His sister is smart enough to step away. Moving closer to Ted and Beard. Doesn't even flinch when Roy shouts. "Oi! This is training, not a fucking playdate! Put her down and get back to your fucking drills!” She just shakes her head.

"Been dying to ask," Ted keeps his voice low as he leans towards her. "He always been like that?"

"He's been Roy Fucking Kent since the day he was born," she says with a grin. "But he has his moments. You can say he was a very protective older brother. Don't know why I said was. Still very much is."

"Like dealing with whoever had that death wish?" Ted asks, low tone forgotten.

"Fuckin' Lorens. I'd smash his face in if he showed that ugly mug around here," Roy grumbles.

"Again?" His sister smirks.

"Yes, again. Fucking twat." Roy growls.

Ted looked between the Kent siblings. "That bad, huh?"

"No one lays a hand on either one of them if they want to keep it," Roy states.

"What did you tell his mates the next day when they threatened to go to the teachers?" She grins.

"To fucking do it," Roy says. "That I'd give them a detailed list of every fucking thing they'd ever done to any kid in her class."

"He then listed them, chronologically accurate."

"Then told those fucks that if they even breathed at my sister wrong, their teeth would be in the pavement."

"Wow," was all Ted could say.

"So yes, Coach Lasso, I can assure you, he has always been some version of this Roy Fucking Kent."

"Fucking, right," Roy says.

"And yes, I got more first aid training patching up his sorry arse after fights than I did in medical school."

*-*-*-*

(Earlier during training…)

Jamie’s head snapped up when the pitch goes quiet. He had stopped to stretch out an annoying knot in his hamstring. The striker wondered why drills had stopped despite no whistle. Not even Roy’s shout of it. He looked up at his teammates, Sam and Jan being the closest. Sam was grinning. Then something collides with his back. He immediately tensed up until small arms snaked around his neck. Jamie let out the breath he was holding and huffs a laugh.

“Just gonna run right out an’ tackle me, Phoebs?” Jamie laughs.

“Keeley says you like hugs,” Phoebe says in his ear.

“Especially, Phoebe-shaped ones,” he says with a nod. He reaches around with one arm to anchor her to him as he shifts to stand up. Earning a few curious looks from his teammates. Jamie couldn’t have possibly cared less. When he is on his feet, he reaches up with his other arm to keep hers secure around his neck. He spins her around. She laughs. It’s an infectious noise that causes a few of his teammates to chuckle. When he stops, Phoebe giggles and says she’s dizzy now. He goes to let her down, but her grip only tightens. He can’t help but smile.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone got sick on the pitch,” Sam says.

“Roy would love that,” Colin says as he and others join them, all of training seemingly unofficially put on hold.

“Speakin’ of,” Jamie starts as he makes exaggerated motions as he turns to look around. Phoebe laughs as he swings her around. “Where is the grumpy prick?” Jamie asks having not seen the man. Phoebe giggles, but before she can chastise him for his language, he adds, “Yeah, I know, it’s a bad word, innit? Pay ya next time.” His teammates laugh. He feels her nod more than sees it.

“Mum said she needed to talk to him and that I could come say hi,” Phoebe tells him.

“Well, hi,” Jamie says.

“Hi,” she laughs.

“Say hi to the lads, Phoebs,” Jamie grins.

“Hi lads,” she parrots, earning amused greetings from the now bigger group of players.

“You here for more than Jamie hugs?” Sam asks.

“Do you want a hug?” Phoebe asks, and the others laugh.

"I did not mean-" Sam starts to say but is cut off by Jamie.

“I’m sure the lads wouldn’t turn one down,” Jamie grins. Phoebe shifts, and Jamie lets her down. Sam does indeed accept a hug. A few of the others do too. Dani Rojas makes her laugh by picking her up off her feet and swinging her around.

“Oi!” They hear from the side of the pitch. “This is training, not a fucking playdate! Put her down and get back to your fucking drills!”

“Sorry, Uncle Roy,” Phoebe says at the same time the others say, “Yes, Coach.” Jamie just huffs, scoops her up and jogs them over, and sets Phoebe down on the sideline by her mom and uncle.

"Lovely as ever, Doc," Jamie winks, greeting Roy's sister.

"Charming as always, Tartt," she returns. Roy growls. "Alright. Steady on," she says, patting Roy's arm. "Say goodbye to Jamie and the coaches, Phoe."

"Bye, Jamie. Bye, Coach and Coach." She hugs Roy. "Bye, Uncle Roy."

"See you this weekend," Roy tells her as he hugs her back.

"Think about what I said," his sister says in a low tone to Roy, glancing at Jamie as she does. Jamie gives her a confused look, but she just grins as she pulls away. "Laters team," she says louder to the group. She takes Phoebe's hand and leaves.

*-*-*-*

“She’s gonna be a heartbreaker that gets legs broken,” Isaac says to the group as they watch the interaction on the sidelines.

“And that’d be the lucky ones Coach likes,” Colin adds.

“Not just Coach,” Sam mutters.

“Nah, Tartt would aim for faces,” Isaac says. “Kent would make sure no one’s walking away, but Tartt knows too well how they think. No helpin’ the ones that break her heart.”

“Make the outside match the inside,” Colin nods. “Break her heart, and they’ll be lucky if those two break their face.” A few of the players grimace, and the others nod in agreement.

“Fucking get to it, or you’re all running laps til I say so!” Roy shouts.

Jamie shakes his head as he joins them. “Might want to hustle, lads,” Jamie smirks. “As soon as she’s gone, he’ll run ya til you’re the ones sick on the pitch.”

“Yeah, alright,” Isaac says. “Back to it.”

They all head back to drills.

*-*-*-*

Roy is not surprised, but still annoyed, to find Jamie waiting for him after training. The locker room is empty but for Jamie. Roy resists the urge to go back into the office, but he knows Jamie would just keep waiting. Jamie was already in his street clothes, scrolling through his phone, and sitting like the fucking prick never learned how to properly use a chair.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" Roy asks.

"Took ya long enough," Jamie says, getting to his feet. "So your sister-"

"Don't even think about it, Tartt," Roy growls.

Jamie holds his hands up at the sheer rage in Roy's tone, but he doesn't flinch or back away. "I wasn't gonna say anything like that, fuckin hell."

"Then what?"

"Just wonderin' why they dropped by. Not usually her thing," Jamie says. "Gotta be important to drop by in person, no text or shit."

Roy knew he had a point. He'd been concerned himself when Phoebe had run up to him. The only reason he hadn't been scared shitless that something was wrong was that no one was in tears, or as much as in tears that any of the Kents get. That image was seared in his brain from when that no good waste of space ex of hers left them.

"They're fine," Roy says as they head out to the car park.

"So we don't need to hide a body or slash any tires?" Jamie asks. If Roy didn't know any better, he would have thought Jamie sounded disappointed. When Roy doesn't say anything, Jamie looks up at him. "What?" Jamie asks. "Phoebe seemed fine, so I thought maybe-"

"Since when do you have thoughts about my sister? Since when do you have thoughts?!"

Jamie rolls his eyes. "Excuse me for giving a shit about your life and family."

Roy sighs. "Phoebe is fine. My sister, she is fine. She has to work a double this weekend and needs someone to watch Phoebe."

"I can-"

"No, you cannot," Roy stops walking as he reaches his car. "You have a match."

"So do you, Coach," Jamie counters.

"Well aware," Roy says. "She'll be in the box with Keeley."

"She'll love that," Jamie grins.

"Like I said, they're fine, so go home, Tartt."

*-*-*-*

"There she is!" Jamie says, picking Phoebe up in a hug and setting her feet on the bench so she was out of the usual chaos of the locker room. He glanced around. Everyone was still riding the high of winning the match. "Have fun with Keeley in the owner's box?"

"Yes!" Phoebe was quick to answer. Jamie did his best to keep her focus on him. He usually wouldn't give a shit about his team's manners. Even when it was Keeley or Ms. Welton in the room, Phoebe is 8. She's an innocent kid.

"Tell me about it," he says as he puts on a new shirt. Thankful that Keeley must have timed it so most of them would be wrapping up in the locker room by the time Phoebe got there. She starts telling him all about watching the game.

"You scored a goal!" Phoebe beams at him. Jamie can't help but smile.

Cockburn chuckles as he closes his cubby.

"Colin did, too," Jamie says.

"Keeley said you helped then, too," Phoebe says.

"That's what teammates do, Phoebs, you know that. You play on your own team."

"Less fun now that Uncle Roy coaches you," she says. A chorus of awws has Jamie looking over his shoulder. A few of the players were hovering.

"I'm sure your uncle misses coaching you, too," Sam says as he approaches.

"Richmond pays better," Jan states. "Would be silly to pick a children's league over-"

"Fuck off, Jan Maas," Jamie grumbles. "She's 8, and he still coaches her team when he can."

"Jamie…" Phoebe says, and she holds out her hand. Jamie feigns annoyance as he moves around the edge of the bench. He does reach up and put a hand on her arm to make sure she doesn't get knocked off balance by his movements. He gets his wallet out of his bag and hands her the money. She gestures again. He rolls his eyes and more money that he owes her from training.

"Good," Phoebe smiles. The teammates around him laugh. Phoebe clearly had Jamie wrapped around her finger.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Jamie tells them. "She'll get you, too, if you don't watch your language." He grins at Phoebe. "Still think you should cash Uncle Roy's debt in for a pony," he says with a wink.

"Better!" Dani says excitedly. "A puppy."

"How is a puppy better than a pony? I thought most little girls wanted a pony." Sam asks.

"You watch too many movies," Colin says. "Kitten, get a kitten. Less maintenance for your poor ma."

"Just what she needs, a grumpy black cat to match her grumpy and gloomy uncle," Jamie grins.

"Maybe smaller l, like a guinea pig or a-"

"No one is getting her a pet," Roy grunts.

"Uncle Roy!" She reaches out for him from where she stands on the bench. Half the team looks like they are about to try and catch her if she falls. Sam actually reaches out.

"Mate, she's 8 and plays football. She's fine," Jamie rolls his eyes but grins. She's safer in this locker room than probably anywhere else.

Roy steps up into the spot Jamie had been in before he moved over to the other side of the bench.

"Uh huh," Sam says. "And yet you braced her when you rounded the bench."

"He did put her up there," Dani points out.

"Fewer elbows and…other things in her eye line up there," Jamie says. "I'm not driving her to therapy."

"You would," both Sam and Dani laugh.

Roy shakes his head and looks at Phoebe. "Ready to go?" He asks.

"Keeley said we could get ice cream," She says. Roy is not surprised.

"If Keeley said so," Roy states. Earning a few murmurs from the room. Roy growls. Phoebe seems unphased.

"Can Jamie come too?" She asks.

"Yeah, coach, can Jamie come too?" Jamie smirks as he leans against the divider between his and Canterbury's compartments. Roy ignores him.

"You can ask him yourself, Phoebe. He's your friend, apparently."

"I still think he's your best friend," Phoebe says. Yeah, Roy left the door open for that one. That was on him.

"Yet he says it’s Isaac," Roy attempts to deflect the attention her statement got him.

"You wish," Isaac laughs.

"Get your own best friend, Tartt," Colin agrees.

"That's just ridiculous. It's clearly, Sam. Did you not see the international matches?" Reynolds says.

"He can have more than one best friend, can't he?" Dani asks. "I do."

"Of course you do," Jamie chuckles as he makes sure he has everything he needs to leave. He looks up and when Phoebe calls his name.

"Want to get ice cream with us, Jamie?" He glances at Roy. Roy rolls his eyes and shrugs.

"O' course, Phoebs," Jamie says. His smile softens. "Love to."

"Then get your arse moving, don't have all damn night." Roy helps Phoebe off the bench, and they head out the door.

"She's right," Sam says. "They're clearly best friends."

Everyone in the locker room murmurs in agreement.

"Is Tartt with her mum or something?" Someone asks.

"God no," Sam says. "He'd be dead if was."

"Fair point," Isaac says.

"But Jamie Tartt isn't the old Jamie Tartt," Dani counters.

"Yeah," Colin says. "But Roy Kent is still Roy Kent. He'd have destroyed Tartt for that."

"He has threatened to kill Tartt for a lot less," Sam admits.

"Yeah," the others agree.

*-*-*-*

"Glare any harder, and you might melt the cone with the heat of it," Keeley nudges Roy as she says it. Roy blinks before looking over at her. She is obviously amused by how he is acting.

"How is this not weird to you?" Roy says in a harsh whisper. Glancing over at where Phoebe is knocking around a balled-up wrapper as a ball on the tabletop nearby. She and Jamie had been seeing how long they could keep it going without it hitting the floor. It gets oddly competitive when it shifts to who can get it between two napkin dispensers more while not letting their ice cream melt. It only got worse once their ice cream was gone. Though Roy found it as funny as Phoebe did when Jamie got a brain freeze from it.

"It's like minding two children," Roy complains.

"Would you rather have to entertain her yourself?" Keeley asks. Roy just grunts. Phoebe cheers when she lands her last shot.

"Well played," Jamie grins and looks over at Roy. "Almost done, old man?" Roy has to resist making an inappropriate comeback. There are children, not just Phoebe, around. And normally, Roy doesn't give a fuck what people think about him. But he wasn’t actually that upset about anything. Jamie had actually gone out of his way to look after Phoebe in the locker room. He'd watched them through the window in the office while talking to Beard about the match. He could tell Jamie was trying to keep her focus on him and not the room full of half-dressed footballers. And in the past, he might have thought he was just being an attention needing twat, but Jamie had been keeping track of who was where in the room. Keeping himself between her and the rest of the room. So he'd give him a bit more leeway. And Keeley was right. Phoebe was having fun. They still have another day to keep her busy. Having Jamie keep her busy for a bit hasn't done any harm. Instead of saying anything, he just finishes his ice cream cone and gets up. He holds a hand out to Keeley, and she takes it as she gets up. "Let's go."

"Thanks for the invite," Jamie says to Phoebe as they walk back to Nelson Road. Jamie giving her a piggyback ride. She smiles, shifting so she can pat his head. He laughs. So does Keeley. "You too, granddad." He says to Roy when the laughter dies down. Roy does roll his eyes at that. Roy wonders how this became his life. And that thought made him wonder if this was a good thing or a bad thing. His gut reaction is, of course, it's bad. Jamie is the king prick of pricks. But he knows that's not true anymore. Jamie had picked to go with them to ice cream instead of the club to celebrate with the team. Jamie'd rather spend his time entertaining Roy's 8-year-old niece at an ice cream parlor while Roy and Keeley enjoyed their own treats than party with the boys. Or even find a casual hook-up like the old Jamie would probably do. No. Instead, he was carrying a sugar-fueled child on his back despite it being less than an hour out from playing a full football match. Roy's knee would have been protesting if it was him. They stop when they reach Keeley's car.

"What are you doing now?" Phoebe asks Jamie when he lets her down.

"He should go home. Rest and recover," Roy says.

"Not going to join the team at the club?" Keeley asks.

He shrugs. "Just going to head home. Catch up on something streaming."

"Nothing fun?" Phoebe asks.

"You heard Coach Uncle Roy," he grinned. "Gotta recover."

Phoebe gives him a hug, and he heads to his car.

*-*-*-*

After Phoebe is down for the night, Keeley hands Roy a beer. "You going to tell me what is going on, or am I going to have to just wait it out until you crack up?"

Roy considers ignoring her question, but he knows she will just bring it up again later.

"Just something my sister has been bothering me about," he says.

"Do I get specifics, or am I just to go off that vague nothing of a sentence?"

Roy huffs. "She's been on my case about Jamie."

"What about Jamie?" That piqued her interest. "Does your sister want to shag Jamie Tartt?"

"Fuck off." He cringes at the idea. "I hope not."

"Okay, then what is she on about?"

Roy has not been able to figure out how to say that part out loud. Especially to Keeley. They are barely back together, and Jamie is her ex. She still cares for Jamie, and Jamie has never denied he still loves Keeley in one way or another. Jamie maintains he's glad the two got back together. He had told Roy he was a dumb fuck of an old man and even dumber than Jamie himself was for dumping Keeley. Roy had agreed with at least part of Jamie's assessment on that. He had fucked up by pushing Keeley away. But Jamie had been there to keep Roy out of his head. Even if he was just pushing his buttons to give him a vent for his frustration. Filing the silence in training with annoying factoids that seemed infuriating at the time, but looking back, were just keeping his mind focused on something else. Roy hadn't realized how much he had leaned on Jamie. He had gotten to the point he'd started noticing stupid little things that Jamie would appreciate when Jamie wasn’t even around. Whether it was some stupid video on the internet or someone else's fuck up that he knew they could both find amusing. Fuck this was frustrating to think about. His mind had been drifting more and more to Jamie Tartt during the quiet moments of his life.

"Roy?" Keeley shakes his shoulders. He grunts. "Now I know something is up. Spill it."

Roy growls, not at her but at his own stupidity. Keeley just waits him out.

So he tells her about his sister's visit to Nelson Road. About how she had been questioning him about his feelings for Jamie since Uncle's day. Keeley is damn near giddy by the time he finishes talking.

"You love Jamie," she grins.

"I love you," he counters.

"And Jamie!"

"Would you fucking shut it," he hisses. He glances over at the stairs and silently waits to see if he hears Phoebe. Keeley glares at him. And he knows he fucked up. That had been too harsh. "Sorry, that was-"

"A bit harsh, yeah?" She takes a pull of her drink. "You're lucky I love you."

"I am," he admits. "But I'd rather not Phoebe hear this."

"But you haven't denied you love Jamie."

Roy groans, rubbing his eyes.

"You can't, can you?" Keeley grins. "You can love more than one person. The heart is a bitch like that."

"Keeley," he grumbles.

"You aren't the only one," she admits.

"What?" Roy asks.

"It's like…” she starts to explain. “He's kept all the sweet things I genuinely enjoyed when I was him and grew out of most, if not all, the bad bits."

"He's changed so much," Roy agrees. "And I don't know if that's endearing or infuriating."

"Well, you love him, so clearly, you have your answer."

"You just admitted you still love him too."

"Yeah, but I loved him before. It's new for you."

"Well, what the fuck are we going to do about it?" He asks.

"Honestly?"

"Yes," he growls.

"Drag him to the bed and settle it the fun ways," she says, taking a drink.

"Fuck off," Roy growls.

"I'm serious, babe," Keeley says. "He went to get ice cream instead of clubbing with the fellas. He asked if he needed to help you murder someone. He'd risk his career for you. He is ready and waiting for you at insane hours of the day already. He had a poster of you in his room as a kid. Admitted he loved watching you play. He still looks at you like you're his hero. Like he can't believe you would let him have even a fraction of your time and attention. Roy, he cares what you think. He lights up like the sun when you tell him he did a good job. Can you really not see how much he wants your approval? Your attention? Good or bad, he lives for it."

Roy has to look away as she speaks. That was a hell of a list. How has he missed it all?

"So you think he'd-" he slowly starts to say.

"If we texted him right now,” she interrupts him. “I guarantee he'd be here in minutes. If you asked him to do anything, he would."

"I doubt that," Roy vocalizes the little voice in his brain. The one that doubts most everything.

"Fine, I'll prove it." She grabs her phone and starts typing a message.

"What are you-"

"There. Done," she sends a message.

"What did you just do?" Roy asks, dread pooling in his stomach.

"Invited him tomorrow night," She says.

He is slightly relieved she hadn't invited him to come round now.

*-*-*-*

Jamie has the worst timing when not on the pitch. During training, during a match, he is a master at timing shots. He knows when and where to strike. As for his life outside the pitch, that has been a mess since, probably forever. Like now, he’s just kicked back on his sofa, tv on for mostly just background noise as he scrolls through social media and other sites on his phone. The match had been good. He was sending some of the best reactions and headlines to the team chat as he does. He had just taken a drink because Roy would probably kill him if he didn’t hydrate when he got a text from Keeley. He opened it and choked on his drink. He ended up coughing so hard his eyes watered. She told him to come round tomorrow night. That they had something important to talk to him about. Jamie’s chest hurts, and it isn’t entirely from the coughing fit he just had. Did he do something wrong? He thought they had a good time earlier, and it wasn’t even an inappropriate or raunchy good time. It was kid friendly. He kept Phoebe happy and safe. Isn’t that like Roy’s number one priority? Always. And Jamie is happy to help with that. Did he do too much? Or is it the whole locker room thing? She had found him there. He’d kept her from seeing anything she’d need therapy to forget. Was it something he didn’t do? The lads wouldn’t mess with her. They fear Roy far too much. But Roy didn’t scare him as much as he might have in the past. But fear wasn't his motivating factor for once. Jamie wanted to look after Phoebe because she was just a kid. She deserved to feel safe and happy. Roy might hate that Phoebe’s dad is not in the picture, but Jamie knows there are worse things than an absent father. An abusive one that resents your very existence. One that you can’t get away from. A dad like that is something he hopes Phoebe never has to even think about. He hopes her friends, classmates, teammates, all of them never have to go through what Jamie did. What Jamie still has to deal with. But Phoebe has Roy, at least. She doesn’t need a father. She has her mother. She has her Uncle Roy. She even has Keeley and now Jamie. The more people in her corner is a good thing, right? So it can’t be about all that, right? Then what else could it be? It’s Keeley, so it’s probably not about the match or training. He looks at the message again. He probably is taking too long to respond. So he sends her a message saying he’d be there and sets his phone on the table. So much for rest and recovery. He knows his dumb brain is not going to let this go.

*-*-*-*

"Phoebe go home?" Jamie asks when Keeley lets him in.

"Yeah, disappointed?" Keeley asks.

Jamie shrugs, aiming for nonchalant but coming off as anxious and a bit exhausted.

"Roy's in there," she gestures past the stairs to the living room. Jamie still seems to hesitate. "I'm right behind you, babe."

Roy notices it immediately. Something was not right with Jamie. That was clear as day as Jamie made his way into Keeley’s living room. The striker looked more exhausted now than he had when they watched him leave the Nelson Road car park.

“Are you okay?” Keeley finally asks as she follows the younger man.

Jamie waves it off. "I'm fine," he insists.

“Don't exactly look it. You end up out with the team after you left?” Roy asks.

“Nah, went home, just shit sleep,” Jamie attempts to shrug it off as nothing. He was not going to tell them his brain was thinking of a million ways this conversation could end badly for him. "Been worse, yeah?"

“Nightmares?” Keeley asks. Jamie shakes his head.

“It wasn’t your dad was it?” Roy asks. One of these days he was going to make James Tartt, Sr. pay for what he's done. All the shit he put his son through. That line of thinking is cut off for now as Jamie speaks.

“Wasn’t him. Wasn’t anyone, really. It’s nothin’,” he insists. “You’re the ones with something important to discuss.” Keeley looks at Roy before looking back to Jamie. Her brows furrow.

“How about tea,” Roy says before turning toward the kitchen. "Already started, shouldn't take long."

Keeley drags Jamie to the sofa and makes him sit as Roy leaves the room. She sits beside him. She frowns again when he puts more space between them by moving to the end of the sofa. Or at least as far as he can with her insane amount of throw pillows. That doesn't sit well with her. He looks so uneasy. Jamie used to act like he owned the place when he came over. Sure he was less of a prick the last few times, but this was not even how the new Jamie usually was with her. “Jamie…were you worried about this?” She gestures between Jamie and herself. "About this talk?" Jamie doesn’t answer beyond a shrug. "You aren’t in trouble or anything, babe.”

“I didn’t say that I thought I was,” Jamie tries to argue. His guard was up. He didn't want to feel stupid or look weak having worried over something this…well he wouldn't say insignificant. She had said it was important.

“Didn’t say you didn’t either,” Keeley counters. And he knew she had him there. The old part of Jamie that still pops up in his brain sometimes tells him to play it off as if he didn’t actually care. Or to just be a prick. But he doesn’t really want to do that. He’s not going to turn it on her and make her feel bad because his brain jumps to worst-case scenarios. He sighs and leans back until his head is resting on the back of the sofa, and he’s staring at the ceiling.

“Sorry,” He says but avoids looking at her. “You said it was important, and my brain ran with it.”

“Jamie,” she shifts, half kneeling on the sofa, and bracing her hand on his shoulder to try and get him to look at her. “Yes, what we want to talk about is important. But it's not bad.” “So I didn’t do something wrong, didn’t fuck anything up yesterday?” She goes to run her fingers through his hair to soothe him but she stops when she feels him tense up as he speaks.

“What?” Roy asks as he sets down a tray with steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table. “Match was a win. You played well, and went for ice cream. What would you have fucked up?”

“That’s what I couldn’t figure out,” Jamie admits, finally looking at them.

“So you’re saying you got a text from us, saying we wanted to talk to you about something,” Roy starts as he hands Jamie his tea.

“Important. Something important.” Jamie adds as he takes the mug.

“Okay, something important. And you assumed we were mad at you for something?” Roy is still trying to figure out where this is coming from.

“I mean, you’re usually mad about something,” Jamie states. “Wouldn't be you if you weren’t.”

Keeley tries not to grin but fails. Roy grunts. “Fair enough.”

“But I’m not,” Keeley says.

“Usually are with me, and that’s fair. I’ve fucked up a lot since you’ve known me,” Jamie counters.

“That was before,” Keeley says without hesitation. “That was a very different you, babe. Nowadays, you’re more likely to apologize for something you had zero control over than for something you actually did. And that’s assuming you’d have anything to actually apologize for in the first place.”

“Which you don’t,” Roy reiterates. “You train your arse off and barely complain about it anymore. You look after your mates. Keep ‘em in line if needed. You spent yesterday holding court for a stadium full of people and who knows how many more on live tv, then entertaining an 8-year-old at an ice cream parlor. How could I be mad at you?”

“You’re Roy fuckin Kent. Ya can usually find something,” Jamie states.

“Well, I’m not. Got it?” Roy says. “I’m not mad. But I will be if you keep being a prick.”

“Roy,” Keeley glares at him.

“What? I don’t want to be mad about anything, not right now, at least. Not with what we were going to talk about. Anxious, of fucking course. Angry, no.”

“Why are you anxious if it isn’t a bad thing?” Jamie asks. Now clearly confused.

“Because what we are going to ask you is not something people would consider normal,” Keeley answers.

“Not bad, but not normal?” Jamie tries to sort it out.

“Exactly. It’s unconventional, but could be fun,” Keeley grins, moving back to start carding her fingers through his longer hair. Ever since he had grown it out her fingers had itched to touch it. Style it. Just feel Jamie melt under her touch again as her nails scrape his scalp. This time, he lets her. He holds himself back from going completely to mush under her touch, but he doesn't fight how comforting it is. Keeley and Roy see it as a win. She can help but smile at them.

“So? What is it?” Jamie has to ask, his tone and his body language now showing he is less guarded and much more comfortable.

Keeley and Roy exchange a look.

“You want to say it or…” Keeley initiates.

“Don’t look at me,” Roy huffs. “This was your idea.”

“And you agreed to it,” Keeley insists.

“Because you-”

“Seems a bit bad if you can’t even say it,” Jamie points out. “Gonna keep going roundabout all night? If so, might need to order takeaway at this rate.”

Roy glares at him, but the prick has a point. He takes a drink if his tea to stall for time.

“We want you to join us,” Keeley says.

“Join you where? I’m already here,” Jamie says, his mind is too distracted by the feel of her fingers along his scalp to look deeper at Keeley's statement.

Roy rolls his eyes. Sometimes he forgets how direct you have to be with Jamie. Subtlety and nuance are often lost on Jamie Tartt. He is a genius on the pitch. And he knows a lot of shit about topic Roy couldn’t even imagine knowing anything about. But sometimes, he misses the obvious points. And as frustrating as it might be at times, Roy still finds himself wanting to protect this one particular idiot more than any other and help him. Teach him. Fuck, Roy was absolutely lost on Jamie fucking Tartt. Unfortunately, he, too, had been anxious about this conversation all damn day and was on his last nerve.

“For fuck’s sake, Tartt,” Roy sighs.

“What did I do?” Jamie starts to get defensive, pulling away from Keeley to look better at Roy.

“Steady on,” Keeley levels Roy with a serious look. She puts a hand on Jamie’s chest. “We mean with us, like in our relationship, not just at our place physically.”

Jamie is pretty sure his brain has short circuited. He cannot have heard what he thinks he just did. He looks back and forth between the two of them. “You…you’re serious?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Keeley says, smiling at him. Roy nods, hesitant to say anything that might ruin anything. He’s screwed up his relationships too many times. He’ll leave this to Keeley.

“Me?” Jamie asks. “You want me…”

“Yes,” Keeley affirms.

“You both do?”

“Yes,” Keeley repeats. “We both do, right, Roy?” She looks at Roy, eyes pleading for him to at least act like he isn’t a total prick.

Roy grunts but adds. “Wouldn’t have brought it up if we didn’t.”

“Like a one-time thing or…" Jamie says. He still can’t believe it.

“Fuck off,” Roy grimaces.

Keeley shifts so she has both hands on Jamie’s chest. “No, Jamie. Not a one-time thing. Because I miss you, Jamie. I miss being with you. And Roy, he…” She looks at Roy.

“Fuck it,” Roy grumbles before sitting in the seat Keeley was practically out of. Pulls her on his lap before gripping the back of Jamie’s neck and pulling him into his side before slotting their lips together. Jamie is almost too stunned to react.

“Jesus, Roy, warn a girl first,” Keeley says. “And let the man agree to it before you inhale his face. He may not slap you with an assault charge, but-” She’s cut off when Jamie pulls her into a hug.

“I missed you,” Jamie admits.

“So, is that a yes?” Keeley asks, her tone filled with hope and only a little muffled by his shoulder.

“Of fucking course, that’s a yes,” Jamie laughs. “I might be a bit daft, but I’m not a complete numpty.”

“You’re not daft,” Keeley says. She leans back enough to put a hand on his face. “You’re brilliant.”

“You might not be a fucking rocket scientist, but she’s not wrong. Selling yourself short, Tartt. On the pitch, you’re a fucking genius. Off the pitch, you know the most insane shit I couldn’t even pretend to know.”

Jamie ducks his head to hide the blush dusting his cheeks.

"So adorable," Keeley coos.

"That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me," Jamie murmurs, glancing at Roy.

"Don't get used to it," Roy grumbles.

"Or do," Keeley kisses Jamie's still pink cheek. "He's lying. He knows you thrive on praise."

Roy grunts. "No one would believe you if you tell anyone."

Jamie actually laughs at that. And Roy would die before he admits it out loud, but he loves that sound.

"This is really happening, innit?” Jamie asks. “I didn’t smash my face during the match and am in so fucked up coma dream, or like some head trauma hallucination, right?”

“Well, then we’d be figments of your imagination, so how would we know?” Roy points out.

Keeley elbows Roy in the ribs, earning her a grunt. “You aren’t hallucinating or dreaming.”

Roy pinches Jamie’s side. Jamie yelps and pulls away. “Real enough?” Roy smirks.

“Not nice,” Keeley glares at Roy. She takes the opportunity to slip her hand under Jamie’s pullover and shirt to gently run her hand along the spot Roy had pinched. Jamie’s breath hitches, and he melts into her touch. She grins, “There’s my good boy.” Jamie groans.

“That really does the trick, doesn’t it?” Roy laughs. Jamie glares at him, but Roy just laughs harder. He’d seen Jamie’s glare make people flinch. But this one had no heat to it. It was a bluff. Clearly, he was enjoying himself too much to really be pissed. When the glare fails, Jamie pouts a bit. And Roy bites back a sigh.

“Fuck off with that pout,” Roy growls. He reaches over and pulls Jamie back to where he was before he pulled away. “This is a good thing, remember?” He reminds him as he tugs on the back of Jamie’s pullover until Keeley helps take it off of him. His shirt is quick to follow. Jamie nods. Keeley kisses him as her hands roam his chest and abs. She swallows his moan.

“Didn’t hear you, Tartt?” Roy teases as his own hands reach out and touch. Skin he’d been dying to touch for longer than he would ever admit to every time he saw Jamie in the locker room.

“Very,” Jamie breathlessly admits.

“Good,” Roy nods. “Because this is just the start of what we have planned for you.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jamie says. “Let’s go.” Keeley laughs as Roy pulls him in for a kiss.

“Fucking hot,” Keeley says as she watches them. “We gonna move this upstairs or what?”

Roy pulls back and gets a good look at both Jamie and Keeley. “Inna minute,” he says, and he grips the back of his own shirt. Keeley shifts over into Jamie’s lap so Roy can get his shirt off. Jamie happily accepts her and frees her from her own shirt.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Jamie says before moving his lips to the skin below her ear and along her jaw. He wasn’t exactly a selfish lover in the past, and he wasn’t a religious man, but he’d thank any deity listening for the chance to have her back in his life like this. Roy being there was just icing on the cake.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Roy admits.

"She really is," Jamie murmurs against her neck.

"I meant both of you, you fucking prick," Roy reaches up and cards his fingers through Jamie's hair. "Those pretty fucking lips of yours."

"Thought I was an ugly, ugly boy, with bad hair?" Jamie smirks.

"Fuck you," Roy growls as he pretty much attacks Jamie's lips with his own.

"That's why I said we should go upstairs," Keeley says from where she is sandwiched between the two very shirtless fucking fit men. "Although I'm not complainin'." She runs her nails along Roy's abs making him moan into Jamie's mouth. Jamie took advantage of it and deepened the kiss. But Keeley wasn't done being cheeky. She grins as she grinds down on Jamie's already tented clothed lap. A shock of pleasure runs down the striker's spine and he moans loudly. His arm snakes around her torso to hold her tighter. The other goes up to the back of Roy's neck. Fingers gripping tight like if he lets go it will all just vanish. Roy growls.

"Oh, that was a fun one," Keeley giggles.

"Upstairs." Roy growls. "Now."

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russetfur1128 · 23 days

Text

Frisk and Asriel's relationship isn't always perfect.

Frisk has a tendency to try and fix everything, and Asriel has a tendency to lash out when stressed or angry.

Frisk always forgives Asriel on the occasions that he does hurt them, because they can see that he's genuinely trying, but they often forget to think about their own wellbeing.

This causes Asriel to kinda view them as this perfect person, who's always kind and never gets angry, even though they do on occasion.

Asriel also sees them as the one person who won't give up on him, because even Chara gets tired of his shit and puts him in his place sometimes, while Frisk tends to just let things go.

It gets better with time, but it's something the two of them have to work at.

#shattered soul au #friskriel #ut frisk #frisk undertale #undertale frisk #asriel ut #ut asriel #asriel dreemurr #undertale asriel #asriel undertale #tw: abuse #tw: physical violence #tw: physical abuse #I probably won't focus much on this side of their relationship #but I really felt like touching on it

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boo-tycall · 2 years

Text

So....This is love? (1)

Summary: (Y/n) had realized early on that the abuse he had endured through childhood had done more damage than just physical. His inability to properly express his emotions. Lacking proper social skills. On top of that, unable to maintain his friends. And for about three years in the Demon Slayer Corp, that's what he had known. And he assumed that's all he'd ever have.

Through it all though, one fire burned consistently. A leader who did nothing but care for him. And although his childhood had caused such damage, he knew that with Master Kyojuro's help....he’d begin his healing.

Genre: Romance || Angst || Action

Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x Male! Reader

Rating: Rated M

A/N: Be warned there will be spoilers from the anime.

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of physical abuse, depression, self harm, attempted s*icide. Please read with caution.

"GAK!" (Y/n) cried, crumbling down on his knees as his brothers held him by his arms while their father took a step back.

"So.... Still think you're so smart now?" The older man asked, spitting on the ground.

(Y/n) lifted his head, tears welling up in his eyes. He had already been hit four times in the stomach, but that last blow felt like it broke something. Making him feel a little light headed.

Wrapped up in his pain, he couldn't even give a response.

"Speak, boy." The man warned once more, making (Y/n) gasp softly.

"n-no sir....." He cooed, shaking from fear. His father only scoffed before grabbing the male by the chin, making him look up at him.

"I will not warn you again. You speak when spoken to. You will not give your opinion because it Does. Not. Matter. Got it?" He growled, his terrible smirk growing into an equally terrible smile.

(Y/n) shut his eyes, nodding furiously. His father again scoffed, glancing at his brothers who released him upon his gaze.

"Go get some water. Clean yourself up. I don't want to see your face for the rest of the day." He barked at the male, who feebly tried to raise himself onto his hands but crumbled again from the pain.

Something was terribly wrong. His father had always been violent, and he had broken more than a few bones in him in the past, thus (Y/n) recognized this feeling.

"Get. Up. And Go!" His father barked once more, swinging his leg harshly into (Y/n)'s face, making him cry out momentarily before trying to scramble to his feet.

The blow was enough to knock his vision, making him see double. A bruise had already begun to bloom. But (Y/n) couldn't fall again, or his father would strike him again. Stumbling, (Y/n) made his way around the corner of their home, grasping onto the wall for support.

Day in and day out....this is all it was.

for 16 years....this is what he endured. He never understood why out of all his siblings, he would often be punished so severely. But after so many years, the question ‘Why?’ ceased to come to his mind. Instead, he resigned himself. He hadn’t ever known anything else outside of the maple forests where he lived.

Other than the river up the mountain where he had to fetch water. Holding his ribs, the boy made his way to the empty well, placing his free hand on the stone.

‘d-damn......’ he thought to himself, feeling his dizziness settling in. So much so, he could hardly sense his younger brother coming up behind him.

“(Y/n)?” Hearing his voice made (Y/n) scowl, glancing over his shoulder at him. He had held him up while their father beat him. And yet he also was the closest thing in this so called “family” to being true to that title.

“What” (Y/n) said lowly, leaning down beside the well and grabbing two empty wooden buckets. “I-If you need help, i can go get the water. He....got you good.”

(Y/n) gave a soft, fake chuckle, trying his best to not show the actual amount of pain he was in as he did so. “It’s fine....please, go see that father takes his nap. I won’t be long.” (Y/n) replied to his brother, giving his brother somewhat of a gaze. Looking past him would be more appropriate to say.

But his brother sighed, a light cloud of smoke from the cold blowing into (Y/n)’s face. “Please be safe. I will make sure father is asleep when you return. Do you want me to sneak you some food too?” His brother asked earnestly, but (Y/n) only shook his head.

“Thank you, but i wouldn’t want father catching you sneaking me food. I’ll be fine. You go have dinner, i will be back before it gets too dark.” (Y/n) replied, raising a weak arm to pat his younger brothers head.

The younger male finally gave (Y/n) a smile before nodding, turning on his heel and walking away to the other side of the home. As soon as he was out of sight, (Y/n) switched one bucket to now be two in a single hand. His now free hand cradled his chest. With a drag in his walk, (Y/n) began his trek up the mountain.

During this time alone, it would often give (Y/n) time to think. Think about where he was and where he was going. Think about who he was.....and who he wanted to be....and yet, as soon as he approached the water and looked at his reflection, reality crashes back onto him.

He had dreamed of leaving the forest, living a life with friends and people who loved him. Yet, he hadn’t ever met another person besides his family. (Y/n) could feel himself getting lost, drowning in his own reflection.

The mark on his cheek had grown dark purple with green and yellow edges. His eyes reflected his exhaustion. His sorrow. His Pain.

Why was life so cruel to him? What had he done to deserve this? More and more questions pooled into his mind as he stepped into the frigid water. He could hardly feel the cold, he could barely feel anything. Even the pain in his ribs, the sting in his cheek, suddenly felt like they had washed away. But something else felt off.

Almost like a plate being shattered, something broke in (Y/n)’s ears. So much so, it shocked him.

All at once, the anguish, the pain, the confusion, feeling itself seemed to drown itself in the river. (Y/n) laid himself in the river, not being able to feel the cold water as it soaked his yukata. He lowered himself completely until all he could see was the blue of the waters surface.

Finally....he let go. Releasing himself into the river. He could see the water flow, he could hear the silence, and he felt nothing. It was comforting. This time he would not get up, he would not.

‘Brother....’ he thought as he released bubbles of oxygen. The image of his younger brother flashing in front of him followed by that of his mother. He could feel everything growing dark. It was a comfort.

The next thing he knew, he was out of the water. Above him, two bright orange eyes stared down at him.

“Quite cold to be going for a swim, isn’t it young man?” The males voice boomed, but it only echoed quietly in (Y/n)’s ears. Was he....dead? (Y/n) blinked a few times before looking down at himself. Covering him was a haori, white like snow with flames that matched the strangers hair.

(Y/n) raised a hand up but as he did, felt the pain of his broken rib. This seemed to have shocked him into being more alert, as the strangers voice now became clear.

“You’re injured. Please allow me to hel-”

“You shouldn’t have helped me. Y-You should have let me die....” (Y/n) groaned. The stranger gave him a warm smile, but beyond that warmth there was a depth of sadness.

“Nonsense, what sort of Hashira would i be if i simply let you die in that river? I’d sooner throw myself in with you before letting an innocent man die while i watched.” He replied enthusiastically.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in shock as he processed what the male had said before looking into his eyes. In that moment, (Y/n) felt a warmth envelope him. Something so foreign to him, he began to scoot away from the male. “Hey, don’t move too much. I have not checked the extent of your wounds, i wouldn’t want you to injure yourself further.”

“L-Leave me alone!” The male exclaimed, grabbing for a stone but in that same instant he went to throw it, the stranger was mere inches from him, his wrist in his hand. It was so fast, (Y/n) gasped, the action causing him to lay down, placing his free hand on his ribs.

“Now, Now, calm down. Let me see how hurt you are. If you’re truly okay, simply raising your arm should not be so strenuous. And yet you are in agony.” Although loud, the males voice was nothing but gentle as he spoke. Something (Y/n) hadn’t ever experienced.

The pain was so overwhelming, (Y/n) didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore.

The stranger pulled back the haori covering him before pulling back on (Y/n)’s own Yakata. The shocked expression he made was hard to disguise. It doesn’t take a doctor to see the bruises covering the males chest, dark purple, black and blue.

“You look as though you’ve had some sort of beating. I would not be surprised to discover you have broken ribs. Such an injury can be life threatening if not tended to. I will take you to see a doctor where you may receive treatment.” The male said affirmatively, moving to pick (Y/n) up. But the male protested.

“N-No, please! I-I need to get home...my father and brothers...are expecting me home before dar-” As he began to protest, he also took in his surroundings. The forest had gone dark. It was already night.

“Well, i’m sure your father would be far more relieved to hear that you are receiving treatment after being attacked than have you stumbling back with no medical treatment for miles.” The male reassured, hoisting (Y/n) off the ground and into his arms, the haori once again laid on top of him.

“No...No sir...y-you don’t understand. My father will be...furious....please i must...r-return.” The shake in (Y/n)’s voice was hard to ignore, the stranger couldn’t help giving him a confused look.

“Ah....i see. Then perhaps i shall simply need to let him know i will escort you. That way he’d have no reason to be upset or angered. Knowing you are under the protection of a Hashira would certainly ease any parent.” He replied, chuckling loudly as he did so.

Hashira? Where had he heard that before?

“Now, where do you live? I shall carry you!” The stranger assured, making (Y/n) turn pink. “H-Head east down the mountain, j-just follow my foot steps.” (Y/n) replied, looking around.

“Oh...You have another. That one looks very bad.” The stranger said, commenting on the males severely bruised cheek. (Y/n) nodded slowly before sighing, regretting it instantly as he felt the pain surge through his chest.

The stranger gave a soft ‘hm’ before turning to trek up stream. Having flowed down the river, (Y/n) could hardly recognize where he was. But it wouldn’t be too long before they both arrived where he had began his journey, the wooden buckets still there.

“Ah, so then we begin here and head east down the mountain, yes?” The male asked, earning a weak, “Yes sir” from (Y/n).

“Now then, close your eyes and rest if you’d like. I will watch over you, do not worry.” The male cooed, giving (Y/n) a gentle smile as he did so. (Y/n) couldn’t deny that this guy....whoever he was....was someone he wanted to see again. Never had he had someone be so kind and warm to him. Such a gentle tone brought pain to his chest, one more powerful than the pain of his ribs. But....(Y/n) couldn’t help feeling safe.

It brought a weak smile to his face as he shut his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to take over.

“Awaken my friend! I believe we have found it.” The males voice boomed, waking (Y/n) from his sleep.

“Will you stand if only for a few moments?” The stranger asked, “If you are still too weak, i am more than happy to continue to carry you.” He added quickly, giving (Y/n) a smile. Again, (Y/n) could feel his cheeks heat up from the embarrassment.

“N-No, i can stand.” He croaked as the male gently placed him onto his feet. As soon as he did, the pain from the beating earlier combined with the frigid cold was enough to cause him to wince. But he did not grab the stranger and instead walked ahead toward what he did indeed recognize as his home.

As he did the sound of someone running to the entrance was loud and as soon as the door’s curtain was pulled back, the face he saw made him turn pale and his blood run cold.

His father. And he did not look happy.

“F-Father...” (Y/n) meekly croaked as he watched his father approach him. Without time to react, his father struck him across the face, hitting the same bruise he had created a few hours prior.

The force was enough to make (Y/n) stumble as he grasped his face but not for long as his father struck him once more, slapping his opposite side and finally knocking him to the ground.

“Where the hell were you?! You didn’t even do what i told you! You useless piece of shit! You can’t even complete a simple chore!” He yelled at the boy, striking him once more over the head, this time with a closed fist.

Just as he raised his fist to strike him once more, a brush of wind came out in front of (Y/n). He was too terrified to look up, expecting to have another blow over his head.

“I believe that’s enough sir.” The stranger boomed.

His voice was enough to cause (Y/n) to look up. There, the stranger held his father by the wrist. He was so fast and even though his father was shaking with rage, the stranger did not budge in the slightest.

“Who the hell are you? Don’t touch me you brat!” His father barked, swinging his free hand, but again the stranger caught his fist in his palm with ease.

“If you truly wish to know, i am Kyojuro Rengoku. Your son had fallen into the river and i recovered him, that is why he is so late. He nearly drowned.” The stranger, now dubbed Rengoku explained, but (Y/n)’s father simply scoffed.

“The useless rat would have served better use as food for the fishes anyway.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in horror as he processed his fathers words. ‘H-he’d...rather i be dead?’ he thought, echoing it over and over again in his ears.

Rengoku couldn’t hide his frown as he shoved the male away from him with enough force to send him a few feet toward the house.

“No father should speak that way of their child. You should be ashamed.” Rengoku exclaimed, unable to suppress his passion. Because he too understood being in this position. Having his father treat him like he’s worthless. Like dirt.

“Hah! What the hell do you know? This rat has been a pain in my side for years and still he has the audacity to disobey me!” (Y/n)’s father barked in return, huffing out clouds of cold smoke.

Rengoku turned around, placing a hand out to (Y/n). The boy stared at his hand for a long moment, unsure if he should take it or not. What would his father do? What would he say?

“Do not be afraid.” Rengoku assured, flashing that ever effective gentle smile.

(Y/n) finally took his hand, pulling himself up gingerly. He shook his head, feeling dizzy again.

Rengoku placed a hand on the boys head before gently rubbing his hair, messing it up well. (Y/n) could feel his eyes buldging out of his head, what was he doing to him? Why was he treating him like this? Didn’t he hear his father? He was a pest. A rat. Better....off dead.

“Then sir, if you have no use for him, may i take him?” Rengoku asked pointedly, shocking both (Y/n) and his father. “W-What?” The boys father replied, but Rengoku simply smiled.

“I am in need of workers, hard larbor you see. I could use a strong young man such as your son. Two problems solved with one solution.” Rengoku elaborated. But the boys father walked forward, reaching out to grab his son.

But again, Rengoku stopped him.

“Unless you’re buying him, you’re not taking him.” His father growled. But Rengoku simply laughed, reaching into a pouch behind him.

“Very well. Name your price.” He replied, but it was then that (Y/n) finally spoke.

“Sir, n-no you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense, this way i can keep you. Work you until your bones ache and not worry because you are mine.” Rengoku cut in, smiling pleasantly. As dark as that sounded at first, it still sounded far better than this hell hole. Rengoku hadn’t been anything but kind to him since their meeting and the thought of leaving this place....finally....

It made something spark in (Y/n)’s eyes, something Rengoku took notice of as he pulled out a tan coin bag. He poured its contents out in the snow, gold and silver glittering amazingly.

“W-Woah!” His father exclaimed, crouching down in the snow to begin to pick it up.

“Good day to you sir.” Rengoku said cheerfully before turning around, gesturing with his head for the boy to follow him. (Y/n) watched his father pick up the coins feverishly. And to think.....he cared more about those coins than his son.

Rengoku reached down into the snow, picking up his now soaked haori. (Y/n) finally turned around as well, grasping his chest. Seeing the boy struggling, Rengoku sighed.

He wringed out his haori before throwing it over his shoulders. “Alright, let us set off. No stops this time.” He joked, making (Y/n) blink curiously at him. Now clearly looking at his face, Rengoku noted a new bruise and fresh blood under his eye.

He chuckled, gently sweeping the boy into his arms again. “Don’t squirm. I wouldn’t want to drop you.” He warned before taking a large leap, causing them to disappear in the blink of an eye. In a split second, his father was a speck in the distance. A memory....that he would try hard to forget.

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped his lips, even as he groaned in agony. He clung tightly to Rengoku's uniform, earning a chuckle from him.

His eyes remained closed for what felt like moments. Only opening them when he heard Rengoku release a breath.

Peaking his eye open, he observed a wood and concrete front entrance. The front door opened slowly and behind it emerged an elderly woman.

"Good evening ma'am, i'm terribly sorry to arrive unannounced like this but I have an injured boy with me. Please, will you help tend to his wounds. I'm afraid he has broken many bones." Rengoku explained, but the woman only smiled as she stepped back allowing the male to pass.

Rengoku carefully slipped by, watching the males head as he did so.

"Follow me this way please." The elderly woman uttered softly, walking quite quickly into what looked to be a mansion. All the while, butterflies fluttered by. The sight was so dreamlike and as (Y/n) cast his gaze up at Rengoku, the male returned his gaze, warming him to his core once more.

Perhaps he was bleeding internally and was losing a lot of blood, or perhaps the Trauma to his head from the beating had led to a concussion or....maybe it was the way this man’s eyes stared right through his soul, but it was like he was back in that river. Under the water where everything was quiet and calm, where he felt he had no need to breathe.

"There is no need to worry anymore. You will be safe here." Rengoku stated and soon beamed, and for the first time in.....a very long time (Y/n) returned a smile. Small and weak, but it hurt so much. He didn't keep it for long before tears began to fill his eyes.

(Y/n) looked back down, ashamed to be crying. "I-I'm sorry..."

"Nothing to be sorry for lad! I can't imagine the sort of trauma you must have been facing at the hands of your own father and to finally be away, it is overwhelming I'm sure. Let alone the physical pain you must be in." The male replied all too cheerfully. (Y/n) did not speak, silently letting his tears flow as they stepped into a large room with beds lining the room. And at first glance, it looked like three others were laying in the beds nearest to the entrance.

But the elderly woman had led them both to the bed to the farthest end.

"I will send for one of my girls to bring you fresh clothes. I will also call for a doctor to treat your wounds. Make yourself comfortable." The elderly woman cooed as Rengoku gently placed the male on the bed.

(Y/n) bit back any noise, figuring he must sound annoying at this point. Moaning and groaning.... But his self deprecating thoughts were broken by the males voice.

"When will the doctor be able to arrive? I'm not sure how long this boy has been injured." He asked calmly, turning his warm gaze towards the elderly woman.

"Within the hour Master Kyojuro, do not concern yourself too much. He will be right and rain soon enough." The woman assured before showing herself out of the room. Perhaps to fetch said doctor.

Rengoku sighed, but a breath that was so heavy, it startled (Y/n). Noticing him jump, Rengoku kneeled down beside him, placing a hand on the crown of his head.

"Now, all i can do is wish you luck in your recovery. I have high hopes for you, my friend." Rengoku smiled again, earning another smile from (Y/n).

"Thank you....so much." (Y/n) replied softly, his tears saying everything that he could not muster.

Years of physical and mental abuse, starving and working like a dog.....to be told that he was safe, to not worry....to have someone hope good things for him, it was euphoric. Overwhelmingly so.

Rengoku chuckled, gently rubbing his thumb under the males tired eyes.

"This pain, all the suffering you have endured, it will hopefully pass one day. Until then, do not let it hinder you. Instead, use it. Use it as kindling to light a new fire within yourself. Just as an ash born phoenix, you too shall rise and be reborn as a stronger man from this. I believe you will." Rengoku stated, passion flowing from every word. It was obvious that everything he said, he meant with his whole heart.

And as (Y/n) listened intently, indeed something began to spark within him. Perhaps it was only a spark, but that is all he truly needed.

"I will. I-I promise." (Y/n) replied weakly, but not before raising his arm from the bed, outstretching his palm.

Rengoku looked down at it before taking it, gripping firmly.

"We shall meet again, my friend. Until then, take care of yourself." Rengoku finally stated, getting up from his knee.

As he walked out, (Y/n) watched with admiration. And just as he was about to leave the room, (Y/n) cried out with whatever strength he had left: "I am (Y/ln) (Y/n), do not forget, Kyojuro Rengoku!"

Rengoku turned to to look at him, shocked to see the boy still had any strength, let alone enough to yell at him. But, nonetheless he smiled and placed a thumbs up towards the boy, "(Y/ln) (Y/n), what a fine name that is. I will not forget."

(Y/n) sighed with relief and although more pain followed, it had been the easiest one he had taken in a while.

Soon, all he could hear were the fading steps. Just as quickly as he had arrived to save him, he was gone.

(Y/n) felt a rush of cold envelope him, but it comforted him nonetheless. Although he knew he had much to think about, he did not want to do so.

'I think....I've had enough for today...' he thought as he felt his heavy eyes close.

'We'll...start again tomorrow....'

That was 3 years ago.

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lxvenderhxzehv · 9 months

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Kindness Taken Weakness ~ Teddy and Toni an Event Self-Para

Teddy felt like he was right where he had started a few weeks ago. Sitting with a drink in his hand.

Trying to calm his nerves as best as he could. He had never reacted like that before, but seeing Kirby with Knightley like that had triggered some sort of panic in him. Some sort of hurt that he had never felt before. Heartbreak perhaps, that confirmation of fear that would come with telling Kirby how he felt and they wouldn’t like him back. He was glad that he had been with Zarina when the attack had struck. He would never have known what to do if he had been alone. He finally pulled away from her. Explaining that he just wanted to be alone and couldn't pretend anymore and that she didn't have to help him make Kirby Jealous. It wasn't working anyway. He was too mentally drained to put on a show. He didn't care if Kirby had seen his panic attack unfold and to be quite frank he didn't care if he hadn't seen Kirby for the rest of the Event. His heart couldn’t take it. He sat at one of the pop-up bars along main street. It was pretty quiet until he heard the clanking of chains on the seat next to him. He turned to greet them but groaned when he saw who it was.

Toni was enjoying the festival, Mylene had taken up most of his attention which he didn’t mind. I really liked her and was happy she was enjoying their time together. Toni was always the observant kind so when he heard a bit of commotion over to the side he had pulled away from Myles telling her he’d be back in a moment. He had witnessed the whole thing unfold in real time. He had seen Teddy steal a glance over at Kirby. Only to see them with Knightley. Toni saw within seconds Teddy lose almost all color in his face and his breathing became labored.

With Teddy off to the side and out of his costume. Zarina, who Toni was confused to see with Teddy to begin with. Had seemed to handle the situation as best as she could. Giving to what was Toni's understanding that this was Teddy's first ever Panic Attack. He had always known Teddy to be pretty confident and not self-aware or even aware enough in general to even have Anxiety. Teddy was the golden boy and had it all.

He followed Teddy when he ran off. Just far enough away so that he wouldn't notice. Part of him wanted to genuinely make sure that Teddy was okay. Another however wanted to ruffle some feathers. Just for fun, He was already not liked much by many of his peers. There were only a few individuals who seemed to actually like him and his company. He was growing bored of that and even being at the commune, though he would never say these things out loud. He tried to be discreet but was given away by the metal on his costume.

"You look like Hell Mi Amigo!" He began, trying to make light of the situation.

“I'm not really in the mood for anything right now Toni” Teddy shifted in his seat. He took a sip from his glass trying not to give Toni the attention he wanted. “What do you want?” Shit.

Toni shrugged “Nothing, just wanted to check on a fellow Huntsville resident. We have to look out for each other.“ He patted Teddy back. ”We've both been stuck here a lot longer than most of these people“ He then sat back on his stool, slumping almost and crossed his arms. “I can't believe I'm about to say this but I finally agree with Kirby.” Teddy furrowed his brows at him in disbelief. Was Toni sick? Was he in trouble? Was the world ending again? Teddy was already annoyed. Now it was growing at the mention of Kirby and the commune.

“you shouldn't move into the commune…” Toni finally said simply. “Can't have you panicking at the sight of Kirby and Knightly all the time now can't we?” His smile was smug. Of course he had seen Teddy's Panic Attack. Teddy tightened the grip on his glass.

“Though, now we know why you shouldn't move in, now we need to figure out why Kirby doesn't Want you to move in” He tilted his head “Do they know how upset you get by just seeing them with someone else?” Teddy shook his head looking down at his glass “hmm well maybe deep down they know you're too sensitive to see all the HookUps they get themselves wrapped up in '' Teddy downed the rest of his drink. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He was still recovering from the panic attack. His mind was still a bit foggy, he was exhausted and the drink he had wasn't helping. However it made the pain of the heartbreak bearable.

”Kirby can hook up with whoever the fuck they want to…“ He snipped with a groan and Toni shook his head. “I’m not his keeper.” Teddy regretted the words as she spoke them.

“And that is what a good friend does. Put their feelings above everyone else's” He praised with a soft smile. “you're always so selfless, Teddy. Unlike Kirby, Just so selfish and a bad friend…..” That snapped Teddy back. He raised a brow at Toni. he turned to face him sitting up to make himself bigger than Toni. Which wasn’t hard to do. But he was on the defense.

“I think you best stop talking” Sure Teddy was upset. He would never speak poorly of Kirby. They were a good friend to Teddy. And they set a boundary. In turn Teddy respected it, no questions asked. It wasn't his boundary to question nor was it any of Toni's business.

“You're a grown man Teddy and your life is being dictated by someone in their 20s!” The pain hit Toni before he realized what was happening. Teddy was suddenly a lot taller, Toni's jaw stung and the inside of his mouth suddenly felt warm. Teddy had actually punched him. Took a good ole swing at him and knocked him to the ground.

”how fucking dare you Toni!“ teddy barked, looming over Toni as he stood up to his full height. ”We've both told you to fuck off multiple times! Now stop psychoanalyzing our friendship!“ Toni propped himself up on his elbows spitting blood from his mouth. ”It's so painfully obvious you have feelings for them.“ He rolled his eyes. ”You'll Only Keep getting hurt Teddy. The more their body count increases the more your confidence decreases.“ He spat. ”Look at me and tell me I'm wrong Teddy. As everyday passes you worry it's never going to happen for you two or something is going to get in the way.” He smirked ” With people like Me, Knightley, and Z to hook up with at the commune, why did you really think they would pick Just you? You’re nothing special”

Teddy picked Toni up with ease and carried him over to a nearby building and pinned him to the wall. Yes, maybe Teddy knew deep down he wasn't good enough for Kirby. Knightley was the stable, more practical choice. Even Z was a better choice for Kirby. But TONI? This sad excuse for a leader? Second in command? even Teddy was beginning to question him. He had to be lying just to get under his skin. A way to get Teddy to admit his feelings for Kirby.

"Toni you lift like paper, I'll throw you in the trash like paper too if you don't SHUT. UP." He warred letting go of the man finally turning to walk away. But Toni never listened very well.

"It wasn't all that difficult to hook up with them...Kirby certainly knows what he wants. More than I can say for you...." Teddy didn't hesitate and took one final blow at Toni hitting him in the nose before walking away and leaving him to suffer alone.

#musings (teddy and Toni)#thread (teddy and Toni)#tw: violence #tw: Blood #Tw: Physical violence

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withoutaconscienceorafilter · 2 years

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One particular headcanon I have about Wade (Deadpool) has to do with the physical damage that he takes on a regular basis.

Basically, he can be stabbed, shot, disemboweled, dismembered, burned, exploded .... and just heals. He can be subjected to unimaginable physical agony, and then the next minute he's fine. Or rather, he's physically fine. Emotionally fine? I suspect a lot less so.

I headcanon it took some years for Wade to unlearn the instinctive human shock and panic in response to a deadly injury. Even if he eventually internalized that he wasn't going to die if he could see his own guts and that "'tis but a scratch" actually works for him, unlike the Black Knight, that doesn't mean it hurts less. In fact, Wade is far too familiar with exactly how much a number of things hurt. The man could easily stack rank the relative unpleasantness of being burned to death, riddled with bullets, hit by a grenade blast, etc.

That kind of thing has to take a mental toll. I mean both a long-reaching toll of PTSD and nightmares, and a short-term effect. After a long day in the suit, I have to think that Wade just wants to pretend none of it happened, or else he very quietly curls up in the shower and has a good, manly sob.

#Deadpool #Wade Wilson #my posts #tw: gore #tw: ptsd #canon typical violence #tw: physical violence

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criticalcrux · 1 year

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@icybreaths asked:

“I just don’t want to be another piece in their game, you know?“ [for grimmjow]

Like hell he was listening. All of her words may as well have been gibberish at the speed he was moving.

"AHAhahahaaha! Save yer breath, soul reaper!"

There's a swift kick; a direct connect to her rib cage and a deathly accurate blow. Sending her flying back some large distance. Away.

#icybreaths #muse!grimmjow #rp meme #answered #tw: physical violence

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maladaptiveobsession · 1 month

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yandere valentino x reader x angel dust

contains: reader w/unspecified genitals, gn reader, nsfw themes, noncon/dubcon, dehumanization, degradation, heavy abuse (brief mentions of physical violence, manipulation, sexual exploitation), dacryphilia, overstimulation

word count: 2,160

It’s not unusual for sinners to throw themselves at Valentino’s feet, but it is the first time the red skies of hell have thrown one directly onto him. The impact sends you both to the ground, collapsing in a startled heap.

He scrambles to throw you off, having every intention to rip you to scraps. Upon lifting your head, he suddenly has grander schemes in mind. His towering figure and lascivious grin send shivers down your spine.

“My, what lovely specimen do we have here? How kind of heaven to send a beauty like yourself directly to me.” His flirtations send blood rushing to your head, making your face grow warmer. You shyly break eye contact, swiveling your head to get a look around. Where is this place?

Valentino must notice your growing confusion and distress, interrupting your thoughts with a low chuckle.

“Welcome to hell, dollface.” Oh, you must be dead. You never thought you were perfect, but you never could’ve imagined you’d go to hell! Where did you go wrong? Suddenly thrust into hell with murderers, rapists, and monsters alike, you wondered if you could die twice.

“Don’t look so down, baby; you’re in luck! There’s no better demon you could’ve crashed into.” He goes on to introduce himself as a powerful overlord with a well-known and successful business.

“I’m feeling awfully generous right now. Why don’t you come work for me? I know just where to put you! You’ll fit right in! I’m sure my patrons will love you too.” He pauses to let you digest the information. “As my employee, you’d be provided housing. I could easily protect you from the creeps and losers on this side of hell. I’ll even forgive you for dirtying my coat! Sounds like a steal, right?”

He takes a long drag from a cigar that you're not sure where came from, then whips out a contract and pen.

“So, how about it, baby?”

Stranded in an unfamiliar place, you easily accept his kindness. As you take hold of the pen, something about his grin makes you uneasy.

If only you read the fine print. So began your life of torment.

What Valentino neglected to mention was that the “successful business” he ran was a porn studio. You spent hours doing photoshoots, films, and shows. Like Valentino suggested, you became his star attraction—the shy and delicate pornstar all of hell’s degenerates thirsted for. Yet they would never get a taste. Valentino didn’t share his personal toys.

Inexplicably, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted to own you the moment he saw your pretty face, drawn to the light in your eyes.

Even with your skin bruised by his fingers and your throat sore from careless treatment, you still desired his rough affection. You didn’t mind that he left you battered each night or his harsh comments when you couldn’t keep up with his demands.

You could even forgive him for cruelly allowing his customers to take advantage of you and fuck you back into submission.

“I said I could protect you; I never said I would. Perhaps you’ll think twice before disobeying in the future.”

You would do anything if it meant receiving his violent devotion.

Being the personal toy of an egomaniacal moth could never be easy, but at least you weren’t alone. You had befriended none other than Valentino’s former favored pornstar, Angel Dust. Despite your differences in character, your shared experiences created a bond neither of you could find anywhere else. Misery always finds company.

Angel felt conflicted upon meeting you. That bastard had finally found a new toy to replace him! His joy only lasted until he heard your voice, so soft and sweet.

Valentino would break you.

Angel dreamed of the day Valentino would grow bored of him and find a new toy to play with. Now that that dream was a reality, he couldn’t push down the guilt. Shouldn’t he feel happy?

There was nothing Angel could do to protect you, but he could give you advice on how to protect yourself.

“Just do what he says. The consequences aren’t worth going against his word.”

He hadn’t planned on getting so close to you; he had tried to scare you off with cruelties, but you never minded. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. He tried to keep his distance and went out of his way to avoid you. You must have taken the hint and stopped bothering him like he’d wanted.

He didn’t owe you anything, so why did your absence make him feel worse? Why did he feel like something was missing?

Angel found his answers not long after.

He'd followed the muffled sound of choked sobs to your studio, pausing outside the cracked door. Against his better judgment, he peeked inside.

He’s met with the sight of you huddled in your vanity seat, knees raised to your chest, and your face buried in your arms.

“Doll?”

You raise your head at the sound of Angel’s voice, rushing to wipe away tears. You greet him with the best smile you can manage.

How miserable you must look to him, with smudged mascara and puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so often, Angie.” With how hoarse your voice is, he suspects you’ve been crying for a while. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just felt so alone, you know?”

He does. He knows better than anyone.

It suddenly occurs to him how much of an asshole he’s been. You didn’t deserve the shit he’s been giving you.

He'd put up walls ever since he signed away his freedom; he couldn’t trust anybody. He thought nobody could understand what kind of shit he’s been through, but then you came along. You do understand because you’re going through it.

You’re all each other has.

“Don’t cry for the bastard. He doesn’t deserve your tears.” You look like you’re about to apologize again, but he continues. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such a douchebag lately. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’ve only got each other in this shithole.”

You smile brightly, unsure what caused the sudden change in attitude, but happy nonetheless. “Right, together, we’re not alone.”

So began your unlikely friendship.

Unfortunately, Valentino wasn’t nearly as enthused. His obsession grew to new heights when you befriended Angel Dust. This manifested itself in the form of longer studio hours and even rougher sex.

Seeing you get along on set made his blood boil. The final straw was the stupid grin you sent Angel’s way. How dare you flirt with that slut! How dare he grin back!

You both clearly needed to be reminded of your status. Since you liked each other so much, he would be happy to give his blessings. Why, he’d personally see to your union.

Later that evening, you found yourself back on set, blindfolded and gagged. The cold nipped at your bare skin. Valentino kept the studios cold to keep your nipples perked. The handcuffs keeping your hands pinned to the bed post provided little comfort.

The sound of the film crew setting up around you sent heat to your sex. You couldn’t swallow the feeling of disgust residing in your throat; how could you enjoy this? Even amongst the buzz of conversations, you could easily pick out the click of Valentino’s healed boots. You wait for the familiar call to begin filming, yet you do not find it.

It’s only when a pair of hands, strangely familiar, find their way to your chest that you realize the set began. The whole situation strikes you as strange, but what could you do anyhow? Nothing would change the outcome. In the end, all you’d receive for your curiosity would be a nasty bruise.

So you brush off your worries and focus on the sensation of soft hands groping at your chest, teasing your nipples. You can’t help but lean into their gentle touches; the familiarity comforting.

The way they glide across your skin—as if searching—you wonder if they’re blindfolded too. Shivers run across your spine as they spread your legs, the cool air kissing your core. The bed shifts as your film partner settles between your thighs, their hands never leaving you.

Fingers prod at your entrance, sinking in easily. Your head spins at the sudden intrusion. As they finger and stretch your hole, you struggle to maintain composure. Each motion was intentional and practiced. You could feel the slick gather below you in a thick puddle. Somehow, they knew how to work you just right.

Droplets of pre-cum smeared against your skin as their cock brushed up against your thigh.

Unable to wait any longer, you tried lifting your hips away from their fingers. You wanted more; you wanted to be filled.

Your desire clouded any creeping shame or embarrassment. You never wanted this; why shouldn’t you enjoy the pleasure being given?

The hand lingering on your hip stills you with surprising strength; another set of hands you didn’t know they had pushes your thighs up to your chest. Desire clouds your thoughts, never once questioning the owner of said hands.

They guide their cock to your entrance, driving it in without warning—the sudden stretch takes your breath away. Though easier to accommodate than Valentino’s, you still find yourself pushed past your limits.

Little time is given to adjust; their pace is rough but controlled. Waves of pleasure burn through you.

Your moans and pleas are swallowed up by the gag. Tears of pleasure and pain gather in your eyes, darkening the fabric of your blindfold. It hurts so good; the intensity building in your core threatens to snap. A particularly rough thrust sends powerful shockwaves throughout your body.

They shudder against you, their pace stuttering for only a brief moment. They were too busy changing their own bliss. You writhe against your binds as the heat within tightens once more, all too soon. Your pleas for clemency are muffled.

Valentino watches with great interest, languidly stroking his own length as you're brought back to the edge of pleasure. You were so sensitive and expressive.

His favorite slut being forced to use his personal toy wasn’t a sight he thought he’d enjoy. He’d initially been reluctant, only convinced by the masses demanding your collaboration.

Now he couldn’t wait for the reveal—to see the despair of fucking your only friend. Commanding his toys to fuck like dolls was fun; maybe he’d do it again some time.

He watched closely as Angel’s hips stuttered, pace becoming erratic, and fingers pressing deep into your thighs. The heat of his climax sends you over the edge. With your ears ringing and your heart pounding, you feel dizzy. Darkness swallows up your vision.

Valentino makes note of your limpness, suddenly struck by an idea. He strides over to Angel, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with my toy?” He didn’t miss the way Angel tenses. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Wasting no time, he wrenched the blindfold off.

Angel’s reaction is more than he’d hoped for. Horror and disgust flash in his eyes as he scrambles to pull out of you. He tumbled off the bed in his urgency and crumpled at Val’s feet in despair.

Angel can feel his stomach in his throat, panis rising.

“Aw, did you not like my gift?” Valentino mocks him, relishing in the pitiful display. “Well, too bad. Pick yourself up and get ready to do it again.”

For a moment, Angel is unresponsive. He has to do that all over again? He has to violate you? He can’t do that to you; it would break you.

Buzzing under the thick layer of disgust creeps darker desires: to touch and tease your skin, to sink into your warmth. To do it all over again.

He doesn't notice the way his dick responds, but Valentino certainly does. How unexpected!

“Holy shit, are you hard again? Does the thought of raping your friend turn you on that much? I wonder what your friend will think?” He can taste your fear and anguish already. “Let’s not waste any time, then.”

Angel's fear is palpable and thick. He doesn’t want to lose you. When you open your eyes, the little sanctuary you've built together will never be the same.

You should feel something, but you can only feel empty as your only friend splits you open against both of your wills. Averting his eyes, he rocks into you. Valentino’s voice hardly registers at all.

“Don’t act so shy, Angelcakes. Go on, fuck them with your eyes like you usually do. If I don’t see some eye contact, there will be consequences for your dearest friend.”

With your eyes connected, you can’t pretend anymore. This is happening. This is real.

You only have each other, but together you created a nightmare you can’t escape. At least you’re not alone—closer than you’ve ever been.

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dear-yandere · 2 years

Text

› tw: mentions of physical violence. › shared darling au, in which darling is shared between the harbingers.

darling says: i don't care for such material things like golds and silvers, pantalone.

♡ — yandere! pantalone

“my, then what a privileged life you must lead.” he sneers. his tone is scathing and resentful; you can tell you’ve struck a nerve. as if repulsed, he takes his hand from atop of the jewelry box extended to you only moments ago, laughing at the thought of having such privilege. what he would’ve done if he lived a life like yours, the things he wouldn’t have seen: the things he wouldn’t have done.

‘how does my disinterest in material wealth translate to ‘leading a privilege life’?’ you scowl, waxing indignant. to make such assumptions when he hardly knows you, to accuse you of privilege when you’re trapped in this palace like a caged animal. what does he know?

pantalone still smiles, undeterred by the blatant contempt in your tone. normally, he’d smack such pride from your mouth, but this... side of you has piqued his interest in a way you should have avoided entirely.

“so upset over a mere observation.” he sighs, taking a step closer. your legs tell you to run, but you stand your ground; showing fear or regret will only prove his point. “i was merely thinking how wonderful it must be to not worry over that which most would kill for. you’ve no idea how harsh this world truly is.” he grasps your chin harshly, applying such substantial force to your jaw that you fear the bone will shatter to pieces. “if not for my insistence, the fatui would have thrown you to the wolves long ago. how you would beg for golds and silvers then, when your only choice is to eat scraps from city gutters like a filthy mutt.”

the derision in his words stings, and you have to force your eyes to remain on him. how you wish to run far away in this moment; how you know you won’t get further than the surrounding forests.

“i have no interest in paupers who pretend they’re above the rest of us.” he jeers, tilting his head to side in mock inquiry. “so choose, little gem. will you behave, or would you prefer to be thrown to the same wolves i saved you from?”

#yandere pantalone x reader #yandere pantalone #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #*interactions #tw: physical violence #harbinger's shared darling au #genshin impact interactions

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lexxwithbooks · 2 years

Text

📖: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆 (𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐹𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 #4) (𝐴𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑔𝑒 #1) 👰🏼‍♀️🐈💍

✍🏽: 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

Get the book! 🌟

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 2 years

Note

Could i request Arkhamverse Riddler finding out his darling has been tampering with his riddles in attempt to help out Batman & co?

TW: Physical violence/abuse

Not gonna lie, this would be ugly. He'd be ENRAGED when be finds out that Darling has been tampering his riddles--the kind of rage that he rarely feels. He's able to control himself and recover from things pretty quickly, but his riddle-making is a compulsion. It's one he does find comfort and fulfillment in, but a compulsive ritual nonetheless.

Anyone who actively ruins that ritual will make him extremely angry. It's not just emotional, but psychosomatic: he feels itches crawling up and down his body, his heart starts racing, he starts hyperventilating, etc. And when he's like this, all sense of rationality and judgement goes out the window.

He's got a small frame and isn't usually physically intimidating, but he's scary as shit. He's knocking things over, screaming at the top of his lungs, and the only thing that might snap him out of it besides a tranquilizer or sedative is realizing he's hurt his Darling (either on accident or on purpose). He's never harmed a loved one during one of these rages because he's never had a loved one in his life TO be around in this state. And this doesn't make it okay, but this is the only time he would ever harm his Darling.

His brain would connect the dots in the background as he just stares at them, panting. Darling is underneath them, begging him to not do...something. They sound so far away, almost like they're underwater. His cane is in one hand, and he's raised it in the air. And once the dots connect, he instantly drops the cane and just stares at them silently.

He's still angry with them, but he knows this immediate reaction needs to stop. He'd glare at them and speak with so much venom in his voice, demanding to know why they'd do this. Not that any reason would convince him it was alright, but he needs to know their flawed, stupid logic and then explain to them why they're wrong in every way possible.

He'd chew them out and shoot down any reason they had, and then insist that they need to be punished for this. Deep down he doesn't want to throw them out (partially out of attachment to them, but also logically: he knows if they've betrayed him once, they might reveal his location to Batman or the police); instead, he puts them on a severe form of lockdown.

They get a collar around their neck, equipped with a tracker and electric shock that activates if they leave the hideout. Not only that, but for the next month they have to stay in whatever room he's in (unless it's the bathroom) so they can't sabotage anything without him knowing.

Over time as he starts to VERY slowly trust them again, he'd apologize for hurting them. He knows it was during an "episode" that he feels they triggered, but he still shouldn't have ever acted that way. That's the reaction of a brute, a caveman, an ape. He swears that he'll never do it again, even if they do betray him again. But he does add in a dark tone that he'll do anything and everything else.

#tw: physical violence #.dc #.arkhamverse #.riddler #yandere dc #yandere arkhamverse #yandere riddler #sorry i got darker with this than might have been expected 😅#.myshit

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sortofanobsession · 3 months

Text

Beyond Frustration (Buddie AU)

I was going through old works and drafts and this idea wasn't exactly requested but it jumped out at me. And figured I hadn't done an Alpha Beta Omega in a while. May do a part 2 if anyone wants it.

Do me a favor and help me with this poll please & thank you!

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911 Masterlist

Summary: Lawsuit Era A/B/Ω AU where Alpha Eddie marks and bonds Omega Buck after Buck was trapped under the truck. The lawsuit puts their bond, and unknowingly to Eddie, their unborn child, at risk. Eddie learns how big of a mistake he has made in almost the worst way possible. Almost.

Paring: Alpha!Eddie Diaz/Omega!Evan "Buck" Buckley

Word count: 2k+

Content Warning: Anger, Neglect, Hospitalization, A/B/Ω mpreg, Fear, physical violence (Eddie gets slapped), Fear of Miscarriage, High Risk Pregnancy.

Eddie's inner alpha clawed at him as they left the deposition. And all it did was piss him off further. Buck had told that asshole things he'd sworn to keep to himself. The alpha had seen the way his omega's betrayal hurt the whole team. The team that was also very much their pack. Their family. But his alpha clawed at him. He didn't understand why it was acting like that. His mate had betrayed them and their pack. The mate he had taken care of and protected after the omega was injured in the bombing. The one he had bared his soul to and bonded with. No, his inner alpha may be driven by the baser instinct to be with his mate at any cost, but Eddie wasn't going to give in. He should have known better, especially after what happened with Shannon. Shannon had been the mother of his pup. And then came back just to ruin his life again. He had tried to make it work for his secondary nature. To have a real family, a true pack. And that had gone to shit. He'd let his alpha nature trick him again. But fool him once and all that bs. He wasn't going to give in a third time. No.

Buck was struggling. It wasn't unheard of for an omega to be a single parent. But it was well known that a strong bond and loving relationship for a mated omega was ideal. A bonded omega, separated from their mate, especially an alpha mate, under great stress, and being a somewhat rare male omega, was a high risk pregnancy in the making.

During a shift Eddie's inner alpha goes damn near feral. Something is wrong and he knows it. But Eddie had been suppressing his secondary nature for so long, even using medication to further subdue it, his alpha isn't strong enough to make Eddie's more stubborn and supposedly logical side understand. And Eddie does not realize how big a mistake he has made until he gets a terrifying call from Christopher. Carla had gotten a call from the hospital. Buck was not well. And since Carla was the only contact Buck had allowed them to reach out to. Eddie finally realizes what his alpha had been trying to tell him over the last few hours. His alpha nature has been reacting to the bond the shared with his mate. Eddie was just too numb to feel it. And that was a terrifying thought. As mad as he and the others were with the no contact order because of the lawsuit, they still had the slight comfort that Eddie would know if something happened to Buck. When Eddie tells them about the phone call they rush to the hospital.

The second Eddie steps into the hospital he is met with a hard slap. He recoils at first and nearly lashes out when he realizes it’s Maddie. His mate’s beta sister.

“You were supposed to protect him!” She shouts at the alpha. Before Eddie can say anything she has turned her ire on the captain. “You too!” She looks from face to face, every member of the 118. “All of you! You told him he was family! That you would be there for him!”

“Maddie,” Chimney starts but she turns on her heels and disappears behind a set of doors.

The receptionist stone walls them when they try to get any information. Eddie can feel his inner alpha suffering. Eddie was so close to his mate he could just start to feel him. His omega's scent had clung to Maddie. And it tore at the alpha’s heart.

“Eddie,” Carla says as she meets them.

“If you're here, where is Christopher?” Bobby asks. As upset as the captain and his inner alpha was he knew it was nothing compared to what Eddie was feeling. Guilt and fear clouded Eddie's usual scent. Bobby could understand that. The captain had lost a mate before. He knew the panic not knowing created. Eddie wasn't in his right mind now.

“He's with Buck, since they had a sort of bond they hoped it would help. Maddie too.”

“Did it?” Hen asks.

“He's stable, but there is something I need to tell you…”

Eddie hates himself. He would never forgive himself for what he had done. He would grovel and beg Buck to forgive him. He prays to any higher power that would listen to let him fix this. To not take his family from him. He couldn't lose his mate. It would destroy him. He'd spend the rest of his life begging his pups to forgive him. He'd be there for every major milestone for both Christopher and their unborn miracle, if they let him. He was a mess by the time they reached Buck’s room. Maddie glared at the alpha as he entered.

Christopher made his way over to Eddie and buried his face in his father's shirt. Eddie drops to his knees.

“I'm sorry, buddy, I'm so sorry,” the alpha begs. “This never should have happened.”

Once Christopher had calmed down, Carla took him out into the hall to go see the rest of the team.

Maddie leaves to call her parents. She glares at the alpha as she does. The alpha goes over and carefully takes the omega's hand in his. The barely there curve of his pregnant mate’s stomach breaks something in the alpha. It wasn’t prominent, but he had known Buck's body as well as he knew his own. And he could see it now. He doesn't know how he could have missed it at the deposition. Even the omega's scent smelled sweeter. Had his anger clouded his senses that much? He now understands why his inner alpha had been so distressed that day. His pregnant mate was just a few feet from him and he couldn't go to him. The omega had looked so tired and sad, but Eddie had been too bitter to see what the entire situation had been doing to his mate. And Eddie could see it now. Buck was too thin, too pale, for a pregnant omega. He looks fragile and broken. And Eddie just wanted to crawl in the bed beside him. He wanted to scent his mate. Hold him. Do whatever he needed to repair their fragile bond. But before he can do anything but take a shattered breath a woman in a lab coat walks in. She's a beta that smells overly sterile.

“He's sedated,” she says before she even introduces herself. Once she has she levels the alpha with a weary look. “You are his mate, correct? His alpha?”

Eddie nods, barely trusting his voice. “Y-yeah, yes, I am.”

“His sister said you two are bonded, correct?”

“Yes,” Eddie answers, his hand gripping Buck's a bit tighter as he does.

The doctor nods and after making a note in the omega's file she checks Buck’s vitals and compares them to his chart and updates it. Eddie watches her carefully. Only when she is done does she give the alpha any attention again.

“How are they?” Eddie manages to ask.

“He is stable and his condition is slowly improving.”

“So they're okay?”

“As a medically trained first responder, I'm sure you can understand the gravity of the situation at hand,” the doctor starts.

Eddie nods but hopes that by saying nothing the doctor will actually answer his question.

“Did you know about your mate's condition?”

“No,” Eddie half sobs. “I had no idea.”

“Okay,” the doctor says and seems to be considering something before she speaks again. “In cases of neglect like this there is a full investigation,” she says and the alpha has to sit down because to have it put so bluntly was jarring.

“Whatever needs to happen, just please, don't make me leave.”

“Oh as his bonded mate you need to stay, it may be the only thing that keeps his condition from worsening. But I have to legally inform you that your behavior will be heavily monitored and any signs of distress will be dealt with in whatever manner we deem necessary, which may include asking you to leave, and getting the authorities involved if necessary. And if your mate or his family wish to seek legal action, we are obligated to assist them.”

“I don't care what you have to do, I’ll do anything,” Eddie insists. “I just want him to be okay.”

The doctor seems to study the alpha for a full minute.

“I believe you, Mr. Diaz,” she finally says. “And I trust that you being here will not worsen the situation. And if it does that you will act accordingly. I understand that there have been some strenuating circumstances in this particular case. I hope for your sake, and your mate's, that things only get better from here. We will be keeping a close eye on him.”

The doctor excuses herself after that. And what little control Eddie has on his emotions fails. He buries his face in his mate's neck and sobs. He is nothing without Buck. He isn't even a good dad these days without him. He's been trying, but Christopher is still suffering from the after effects of the tsunami and not having his Buck there has made it all the more difficult. The omega had been with him during the terrible experience. It had made the bond the two already had stronger. And Eddie had denied both of them that much needed connection. He was a failure as an alpha. He was a failure as a father. Worst of all, he was a failure as a mate. He neglected his bond and his bonded mate and it nearly cost him everything. He could have lost both his mate and the unborn pup he didn't even know existed. Now that he knows he can't possibly let go. The only reason he would ever leave now was if Buck wanted him to. If his mate couldn't forgive him, the alpha would understand. Eddie sure as hell wasn't ever going to forgive himself.

Eddie wakes up to fingers in his hair and he almost doesn't want to move, but as he inhales the chemically tainted smell of his mate he remembers where he is and why he is there. His head snaps up and he looks into the tired blue eyes of his mate.

“Buck,” is all the alpha manages to say in a broken tone. The numbness that he had felt the past few days gone as the wave of emotions hit him. He can feel their bond again. And it shatters something in him. “I'm sorry.” It's half sobbed and shaken.

Buck had woken up to a weight on his arm that hadn't been there before. The more he thinks, the more he realizes it was a familiar weight. Paired with a feeling he had longed for. His eyes tear up as he inhales and takes in the familiar scent of his mate, but there is something off about it. It has the omega opening his eyes. His alpha is distressed. And yeah, that tracks. The omega blinks tears away as he looks around the hospital room. He has no idea how long he has been there, but by the way Eddie is passed out curled against him it had been a while. And he let his tears fall because Eddie was there. His mate had not only come to his bedside, but was pressed against his side like any distance between was unbearable. After so long without his mate, and now his senses were flooded with him, the omega finally felt some semblance of home. He felt complete again. His hands itched to feel that electricity he always felt when they touched. His hands card through the alpha's unkempt mess of hair.

The omega’s heart clenches at the the sheer level of pain and devastation in the alpha’s voice. Buck gets a real good look at his partner’s face and he looks so raw and broken that the omega wants nothing more than to make things better. But Buck can't forget the reason they are there. His eyes move to his own stomach. Before he can even voice his fears, fears Eddie must feel through their bond, the alpha’s hand rubs along the sheet covered swell.

“Pup’s all right,” Eddie says, his voice now filled with conviction. The alpha's voice is in Buck's ear. The omega can feel the heat of his mate's hand through the fabric on his stomach. The combined sensation and the renewed feelings coursing through him sends a shiver down his spine and sends his heart soaring. It must show in his heart monitor at the way the alpha beside him chuckles. It nearly doubled when he feels Eddie's lips gently brush across the bonding mark on the omega's neck. The feeling of love and safety he has missed for weeks is damn near overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie tells him again. And between the look on the alpha's face and the feeling of guilt that flows through their bond has Buck believing him. Combined with the omega's heightened emotions and hormones, Buck couldn't imagine holding any of it against the alpha. Not really.

“I know,” Buck tells him, his own tone a little sad. It's sad, because this whole situation could have been avoided if they had just tried to talk. And he thinks Eddie must feel the same way at the way the alpha’s hand shifts from rubbing the omega's swollen belly to pulling Buck closer to him. And Buck goes willing shifting until his back is flush against the alpha's chest. The alpha protectively curled around him.

“I love you, you know that right? More than anything in the world,” Eddie says.

“Except Christopher,” Buck corrects.

“I love him and this little one,” Eddie states, his hand gently pressing against the swell of the unborn pup. “But that's a different kind of love,” the alpha insists.

The omega swoons a bit at that. He had spent the last few weeks terrified of Eddie rejecting not just him but the pup as well. The relief that Eddie still loved him and wanted him, but that he wanted their pup too was amazing. That the alpha was happy to not just claim the pup as his but say he already loved them. It was like having a large weight removed from the omega's shoulders. That fear had been like an albatross around his neck. And Eddie must feel it all through the bond because, again, Eddie holds him tighter. The alpha’s lips press against the skin behind the omega's ear.

“I'm here now. Not going anywhere.”

The alpha holds the omega as he cries but it doesn't last long. Because Buck is still exhausted and Eddie is warm. The omega is more comfortable and feels better than he has in weeks, maybe months. Buck falls asleep sheltered in his mate's arms.

The alpha tenses as the door opens. The former army medic might hate having his back to the door but the alpha was protectively curled around his pregnant mate. That was way more important than his own comfort.

“Well, don't you two look cozy,” the nurse, a lovely middle aged omega, says as she comes in.

“He woke up for a bit, but fell back asleep,” Eddie tells her as she goes to check the machines. The alpha goes to move to get up so she can check Buck’s vitals but she waves him off.

“You're fine,” she smiles. “The closer you stay the quicker the bond can help him feel better.” She gently checks Buck's pulse and nods.

“I’ll let the doctor know he was awake for a bit,” she says before leaving. Once she is gone he looks over at the clock. It early, but not too early that his pack would be mad at him texting them. As much as he hates the idea of moving from his comfortable spot, he needs his phone which is charging on the table next to the bed. Eddie gets up, stretching as he does. Buck whines in his sleep at the loss and rolls over as if to chase the alpha's fading warmth. It makes the alpha’s heart flutter. He quickly grabs his phone and returns to the bed. Buck now curled into his side with his face tucked in the alpha's neck. Eddie's inner alpha was happier than it had been since the pair bonded at the feel of the omega's bump against his side. And the feeling was heady. The alpha just wants to sit there and bask in the feeling of home that came from watching his vulnerable and trusting mate sleeping in his arms. But he knows he has a number of unanswered messages to deal with. So he silently, and slowly only having one hand to type with, lets Maddie, Carla, and the team know that Buck was doing better. He had woken up for a bit, but was resting now.

They had a lot they needed to sort out, but they would do it together. Lawsuit be damned. His mate and their family was now Eddie's primary focus. And he wasn't willingly going anywhere any time soon. Not unless Buck wanted him to. Even then the alpha wouldn't like it. He loved Buck too much to walk away now. He loved the family they had made. He was sure the others would understand.

When he was done with the messages he settled back down beside his mate and closed his eyes. He would dream of the life they were only just starting as a family, as a pack.

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