DISCLAIMER: ANY AND ALL HATEFUL/NEGATIVE COMMENTS WILL BE IGNORED AND PROMPTLY REMOVED. THIS IS A SAFE SPACE.
word count: 1,167
warnings: self-hatred, body insecurity, self-deprecation
description: Reader has a low self-image / is self-deprecating; J offers comfort.
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You sniffled helplessly and crawled down to the foot of the bed beneath the layers and layers of blankets. You didn't want to be seen. Your shoulders shook violently as you turned over onto your stomach and sobbed into the sheets. You just wanted it to stop. You hated crying. You had a pillow within your grip and your fingers tensed up as they dug into the soft material until your grip was almost painful.
J had asked for you to wait for him tonight. You were aware of what he wanted and you would never do anything to intentionally disappoint him. However, when you were standing in front of the mirror, you became horrified that there was a chance that you might disappoint him beyond your control. The more you had stared the more hyper-aware of yourself and your body you became. You could see the stretch-marks on your inner thighs and hips, the bulging tummy above the waist-band of your panties and the splotchy and patchy skin of your legs and arms. You obsessively weighed yourself because it didn't feel real. Every time you stepped on the scale and those same numbers popped up within seconds, you became heavily frustrated. Your weight was average but you couldn't see past the way you looked. Perhaps the media was much to blame for your opinion of your looks, but what would J think? You became worried of how he would perceive you the longer you stayed together. He surely couldn't love what he saw. How could he love...this? You felt hideous and you couldn't bear to look in the mirror again or step on that scale one last time. You couldn't do it, even if it meant life or death. To you, it only meant losing J. He wouldn't want you waiting in bed for him. He'd have to be a fool to be attracted to someone with your looks.
You felt vile and disgusting and ugly. You'd had it out for yourself since day one. You hated everything you saw with a burning passion and you wished you could just disappear. You were so distraught and caught up in your sobbing that you hadn't heard the bedroom door open and click shut with finality. Footsteps sounded on the floorboards and stopped at the edge of the mattress. The covers were pulled off of you, exposing your disheveled appearance to your clown who had returned home and come looking for you. He said nothing as he let the sheets drop and pool in your lap. You sniffed and moved over, allowing him to sit and remove his shoes.
His attention returned to you as you rolled onto your side and blindly grabbed for him. He laid down and his arms went around you, bringing you to his chest. He shushed you and kissed the top of your head. His hand pressed firmly against the small of your back as he held you to him and let you sob into his chest.
It was difficult as hell for him to remain silent and not ask too many questions. He hated seeing you upset even more than he hated most things. There wasn't a whole lot in the world that brought him any other emotion than hatred or anger or just plain old indifference. Except for you. Before you, J hadn't cared if he were to die because he had nothing to live for. When you came into his life it changed all that and suddenly he found himself wondering how you had gotten such a hold on him. He still didn't care what happened to him, but he did care about you. And seeing you crying enraged him.
J listened to your quiet sniffling as you nuzzled his shirt. His jaw ticked with irritation and his heart raced. He was trying not to let it get to him, but you could feel his body tensing up as you held him and you didn't like that, "J..." you whispered, "I'm okay. I'm not hurt."
"Why're you crying, then?" he huffed.
Your voice wavered, "because...I'm not...beautiful."
J's eyes narrowed as he looked at you pensively, "beauty is subjective, sweets. Why...why would something like thatbother ya?"
Although his tone hurt, you knew he didn't mean for it to sound the way it did. He genuinely didn't understand your thought process or what had led you to this conclusion. He didn't believe he had ever given you a reason to doubt yourself, and still, his mind raced as he tried to backtrack through every conversation or exchange he could remember the two of you having just in case he had potentially said the wrong thing to you by mistake.
His arms tightened minutely around your waist and you gasped, "I just..." you felt tears begin to well up in your eyes again, "as stupid as it sounds...I was afraid that if you got a real good look at me, then...you might not like what you see."
"Have I made ya feel like I don't like what I see?" J didn't antagonize you as he asked the question. You felt him place a gentle smooch on your temple and a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. He wantsto know.
You shook your head, "oh, no J. Not at all!" you sighed deeply, "I just...when I look in the mirror, I hate what I see." As hard as it was to say that to him, you knew he deserved to know. J would have never let a soul speak harshly against you, but the fact that these words were coming from your own mouth made the situation more difficult. He chuckled darkly, voice void of all humor. He didn't find it funny in the slightest. Nothing was funny about you not seeing the girl he saw whenever he looked at you.
"You shouldn't hate this..." he said, referring to your body, his slightly chapped lips brushing against your temple as he whispered to you. He grabbed handfuls of your doughy flesh and kneaded you gently, "because I don't."
That was the closest you had ever gotten to an 'I love you' and probably as close as you'd ever get, but it was what J knew you needed to hear right now. You wanted to cry for the sheer love you felt for your clown as you cuddled up to him, put your arms and legs round him and held on tight. You stuck glued to him like a starfish but J didn't seem to mind. He laid there and gave you several more kisses on your forehead and cheeks. All of your insecurities faded away when J had complimented you. He never left you feeling inadequate or let you hold onto that idea for very long. He couldn't change how you felt about yourself, but he could be there for you when you needed him. Any time you started to lose yourself, J was never too far away to bring you back.
