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itsonlyjoseph · 16 hours ago

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Make Me Hurt || Eddie Munson x Reader

synopsis: Y/N lives her life coping torment from Eddie Munson day in and day out, but after a certain encounter, everything changes

warnings: Bully!Eddie, angst,

word count: 4.5k

The fluorescent over head lights bounced off the white linoleum and burned into your eyeballs. It was currently 8:30 am and the morning rush of Hawkins High School had already began.

People gathered in their cliques around the parking lot and in the halls. Cheerleaders, jocks, band geeks, honour roll student, slackers, stoner, all of them.

You were by yourself, obviously, as you trudged your way down the hall towards your locker. You hated this school for many reasons. The food, the facilities, the people. Actually, mainly just one person. Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson... were to begin...

He was a tall, dark, metalhead who hated everyone and everything and he made it known. Eddie wasn't popular by any means. He too was an outcast. Him and his friends dubbed satanists and cultists by everyone around them, and even though you too were an outcast, you were an even bigger loser than him. He made it known that you were dirt beneath his dirty white sneakers. Sure, he'd felt that way about everyone but for some unknown reason, it was personal with you. He made your entire high school career a living, breathing hellscape.

You didn't even know what you did to him to make him target you personally. You had barely ever spoken to him, aside from when you had to. Eddie wasn't the most approachable guy so people rarely went up to him unless they were looking to end the day with less teeth. He was happy get into his fair share of school yard fights.

You felt the atmosphere change as your ears perked up at the familiar sound of sneakers slapping the floor. You sighed out an already exhausted breath, just knowing that today would be no different than any other day.

Just as the footsteps got closer, you felt a large, rough hand grip your shoulder and swing you around. You came face to face with Eddie's broad chest, making you look up timidly to his his sneering face staring you down. He had a look of hatred that always sent a wave of anxiety and sadness through you.

What did I ever do to you?

"Hi." You squeaked out, meekly.

"I told you to keep your shit out of the Hellfire room." He seethed.

Ah, yes. The Hellfire room. An empty class room down in the west wing that Eddie and his friends occupied every day. No one knew what actually happened in there. Many people said they did their devil stuff in there. Once, someone even said they sacrificed a baby lamb in there. You didn't believe that one. Much.

"But I haven't been down there." You tried to defend yourself. Eddie didn't care. His fist came up and collided with the locker behind your head before he walked away.

You didn't know what stuff Eddie was talking about. You really hadn't been down there. At least not with any item to leave behind. Maybe he just wanted a reason to torment you.

Eddie wasn't the only person that tormented you. You also had to cop it from the jocks and cheerleaders. They called you names, kicked your bag across the room, tripped you, the usual nasty high school stuff.

It was different with Eddie. It didn't feel like the typically high school bullying. It felt worse. Angrier. Meaner.

The school day felt like it was dragging on, they way it did every day for you. Every day was the same. School. Eddie. Work. Repeat. It was draining. Your parents expected the most out of you and wouldn't settle for anything less.

Lunch was your favourite period because you could disappear for a while and be by yourself. You could take a breath. Typically, you sat in the library or behind the gym but considering the heavy rainfall today, you sat in the library.

The library was only ever littered with dorks and the quiet kids. They never spoke to you but you felt safe with them. It was almost impossible to find one of the popular kids in the library. Even less of a chance of seeing Eddie in here.

The rain pelted heavy against the windows as you found your usual spot under the staircase. You sat on an old beanbag and were surrounded my bookcases. You were pretty undetectable here. Opening your sack lunch and the book you were currently reading, you settled in. You were calm and happy, not a care in the world for the next 45 minutes. Or so you thought.

The library doors squeaked open after a few minutes but you paid no mind. Until you heard that all too familiar voice.

Your eyes widened, half in fear and half in exhaustion. You had never encounter Eddie in here but now this little slice of solitude was tainted.

From your place under the staircase, you had a perfectly hidden view of where Eddie was standing. He was being looked down at by Principal Higgins and it seemed like he was being reprimanded for something. For the first time in your whole life, Eddie looked almost… Scared? Beaten down? Nervous? Sad?

You couldn’t quite tell.

“Listen, Munson. I want you out of my school more than anyone but I have half a mind to keep you back again. Teach you a lesson on respect. You think people like you go far in life? You think your dad got very far?” You listened to Principle Higgins berate Eddie whilst he stood there and took it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost feel bad for him.

“Keep in line or I’ll ruin what little chance you have at a future.” Principal Higgins threatened before taking a breath and stepping forward. “And don’t think I won’t enjoy it.”

He finally left after that last comment and Eddie stood still, a completely unreadable look on his hard face. Your place under the stairs hid you just enough to keep looking at him and analysing him.

You saw Eddie take a deep breath and rub his forehead with the back of his hand. Suddenly, your hiding spot was sorely revealed when the little foam balls in your bean bag shifted, making a rather loud sound.

Eddie turned his head slowly to the source of the noise, his face turning from unreadable to angry the moment he spotted you.

With wide eyes, you whipped your head back round to completely hide your body from view. You took a few deep breaths to calm your racing nerves.

In a few seconds, Eddie would most likely round the corner of the staircase and rip your book from your hands, screaming at you until you cried.

But he didn’t. Eddie didn’t round the corner to yell at you. Nothing.

You braved another look the where Eddie was standing and saw that he was gone. That was definitely odd. You’d accidentally heard Eddie getting in trouble and he didn’t do anything about it. He just left.

Maybe he was taking Principle Higgins words seriously and actually keeping himself in line. Maybe that meant no more bullying.

After a short while, the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. You’d packed up your items and stuffed them back into your bag, distracted. For once, your mind was elsewhere. You weren’t scared of walking around the school like you normally were.

Placing your Walkman over your ears and turning it on, the sound of Fleetwood Mac flowing through your ears, you walked out of the library humming along. Your mind of occupied with thoughts of what you’d do after work tonight, what pyjamas you’d wear to bed, what movie you’d watch along tonight.

You were blissfully unaware of the looming presence behind you.

Eddie had waiting for you outside the library to give you a piece of his mind for eavesdropping on him like that.

Just before you could turn down an empty hallway, you felt a rough hand come down harshly on the shoulder, yanking you back against a wall with a yelp.

Eddie ripped the Walkman from around your ears and out of your pocket and smashed it on the ground. You watched the little pieces of plastic spread out on the floor around your feet.

“Why are you always lurking somewhere, huh?” Eddie yelled in your face. “That was my business!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You pleading, Eddie’s hands pressing your shoulders roughly into the wall and tears welling up in your eyes.

Eddie was pressing you into the wall so hard, your feet just barely scraped the ground.

“You shouldn’t have heard that!” He continued. The anger intensifying.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. You had tears streaming down your face as you looked up at Eddie with wide, unblinking eyes and for a moment all Eddie could see was his mother, terrified and pleading for his father not to hurt her. “Please don’t hurt me Eddie.”

Eddie’s hands loosened for just a moment. “I’m not my dad!” He shouted and stepped back, stomping off down the hall and leaving you all alone.

You fell to the floor in a crying heap and tried to catch your breath.

Sure, Eddie had been tormenting you for years. Saying all kinds of nasty things but never once had he gotten physical. Eddie pushing you against the wall didn’t necessarily hurt but you were scared that he wanted to hit you.

You also weren’t sure what he meant when he said he wasn’t his dad. You’d heard Principal Higgins talk about Eddie’s dad just before but you didn’t know the extent of it.

After you’d wiped your tears and calmed down, you gathered up the pieces of your smashed Walkman and shoved it back into the front of your bag.

You’d cycled to school that day and decided for the first time ever, you’d skip. Beat the rush and go home for a few hours before work tonight. You might even call in sick.

At home, your dad was sitting in the armchair in front of the TV when you’d walked through the door.

“Hey Button, what are you doing home so early?” Your dad wondered. He was a gentle man with a pot belly and kind eyes.

“Oh, I just wasn’t feeling too hot. I think I might be approaching my ladies days. I just wanted to relax a bit before work.” You lied. You never lied to your dad.

“Okay, baby. You feel better soon.”

“Thanks dad.”

In your room, you placed the pieces of Walkman on your desk, along with the equally broken tape. It was your favourite.

You’d spent 65 dollars of your hard earned money on that thing and another 8 dollars on the Fleetwood Mac tape.

Lying down on your bed, you snuggled into yourself and just stared at the wall. For some reason, you felt bad for Eddie Munson. Sure, you didn’t deserve the things he said to you but you didn’t have to be genius to see that he was troubled. He probably had a bad home life and was taking his anger out on others.

You shouldn’t feel bad but you did. It was your best and worst quality. You felt things too deeply. No matter how terrible someone seems to be, you can’t help but feel sorry for them and want to help them and protect them from whatever’s hurting them. You wished whatever pain was inside Eddie’s head, you could transfer over to you so he didn’t have to feel that way.

Your eyes began to get heavier and heavier and soon enough the next thing you know, it’s pitch black outside and a patch of drool coats your cheek. You’d fallen asleep. You felt a little better but considering the sky was dark, you’d missed work today.

You rolled over and looked at the bright red numbers on your alarm clock.

3:19 am.

You definitely missed work tonight. Oh well, you decided you’d just give them a call tomorrow and explain that you were sick. Surely, they’d understand. You were a good enough worker that they wouldn’t think you just bailed.

The next morning, your opens opened to the sound of your dad gently tapping on your door. Looking over at the clock, you saw that it was now 8:30 am.

“Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?” Your dad asked as he opened the door.

For a moment, you forgot. You forgot that Eddie wanted to hurt you. You forgot your broken Walkman and you forgot the look of hatred in his face.

“Uh.. I’m not sure. My stomach hurts still.” You wheezed out. You added a fake little cough for good measure.

“Alright, you rest up and I’ll call Principal Higgins. I might even stop by Scoops and get you a sundae.” Your dad smiled down at you. You smiled back up at him. He was so kind and he was such a good dad. It made your mind go back to Eddie’s dad. You wondered what he was like.

“Thanks dad.”

Your dad closed your bedroom door and you rolled back over to face the wall again.

You couldn’t feel Eddie’s hands on your shoulders anymore but you remember exactly what it was like.

“God, why does he hate me so much?” You mumbled quietly to yourself.

A day later, it was Saturday. You had never been more thankful for the weekend. You were working at the diner tonight, thankfully, and you had a few hours before your shift started.

Standing in front of your vanity, you brushed out your hair and applied your favourite blue eyeshadow lightly across your lids. Your typical shift went from 5pm up until 12:30am.

It was a long and tiresome shift but you appreciated the money and liked having something to do on your free days. You also had your fair share of loyal customers that you enjoyed seeing and speaking to.

Riding your bike to the diner probably wasn’t the safest considering you left after midnight, but you didn’t have another option. You didn’t own a car and you didn’t want to ask your dad to stay awake for you.

Pulling your uniform out of your wardrobe, you placed the pale yellow dress over your body and tided the frilly white apron around your waist.

Downstairs, your dad was already snoozing in the armchair as the 4 o’clock news played quietly in the background. Placing your keys and lipgloss into your purse, you made your way outside to your bike.

The diner was quiet, as usual. Only a few older guys here and there. Putting your belongings down in the back, you made your way out start your shift.

You noticed your favourite regular sat at the diner bar sipping his coffee quietly and reading the paper.

“Afternoon, Wayne.” You smiled at him.

He looked up and smiled brightly behind his moustache. “Hey there, sweet thing.”

Wayne was a regular for a long time and even though you’d only been working at the diner for a few months, the two of you chatted like old pals every time you saw each other. You talked about movies and music and occasionally talked about work and school but not often.

“Overnight, tonight?” You asked as you topped up his coffee.

“Same as every night. How’s school.”

“Schools whatever.” You mumbled.

“That still giving you a hard time?”

“Is the sky blue?”

Wayne mused.

“You know, if I’ve learnt anything in my time here on earth, boys pick on girls they like.”

You huffed outa breath as if to laugh.

“Nah, I doubt it.”

“Never know.”

“I guess but, this feels different. Just the way he looks at me.”

“Well, maybe there’s something else going on. Maybe he’s troubled or scared of his feelings.”

You looked up at Wayne and noticed he had a sympathetic look on his face.

“Okay love guru.” You laughed. “You hungry yet?”

Wayne smiled and looked over the menu once more before speaking.

“No, just the coffee tonight. I gotta pick up my nephew before I head to work. Lost his license again.” Wayne said as he finished off his coffee and stood.

“Uh, of course.” You replied. You’d heard vaguely about this mystery relative of his. I’ll you knew was that he got himself into trouble and they were each others only family.

Wayne dropped a five dollar bill on the counter and smiled before walking out. It was 4 dollars and 30 cents too much but Wayne had already left by the time you realised.

The rest of the shift was boring and uneventful, as usual and by the time 12:30am rolled around, you smelled like burnt coffee and bacon grease. No wonder you had little blackheads on your chin.

“Okay bye Al!” You called out to the line cook as you mounted your bike.

The weather was cooling off as the summer was coming to an end but it was still nice enough weather to not need a jacket after midnight. It was times this like when you wished you had friends to hang out with and go to parties with.

You took your usual route home but considering it was past midnight on a Saturday, the few dive bars around town were crowded with people. The bar that was on your way home was called The Hideout. It was a sketchy biker bar that housed the towns drunks and heavy metal enthusiasts.

Cycling past, you peered over and felt your stomach drop when you saw who was standing around a group of scary looking guys, all smoking.

It Eddie.

The very same Eddie that you had seen since he pushed you up against the wall.

Coming to a stop on your bike, you needed to catch your breath. You were on the other side of the street and it was dark so you figured it wouldn’t see you but he did. He looked right at you.

His face soften as if he was recognising you. He held an unreadable expression as he stubbed out his cigarette.

The exchange only lasted a moment before you turned back to the road and peddled on down the road and towards home.

For the next several days at school, you’d managed to avoid Eddie at all costs. You saw glimpses of the back of his head or his shoulder but managed to sneak away completely unseen by him.

Normally you hated it when he was mean to you because it hurt your feelings but now you were scared of him. You didn’t really know if he was capable of hurting you physically but you didn’t like to think about it.

You hid in the library or down in the lower levels and raced home afterwards.

You had another late shift on Wednesday after school so instead of going home you decided to take your uniform to school with you and just get your homework done during the quiet periods.

Wayne hadn’t arrived yet when you got there so you decided to brew a fresh pot of coffee for him.

The doorbell chimed just as the pot was finishing brewing. You turned around to greet who you assumed would be Wayne but your blood ran cold when you were met with Wayne… and Eddie.

What is he doing here, and why is he with Wayne? You thought to yourself

Before you realised, you let go of the coffee pot in your hand and it smashed on the floor, coffee spilling around your feet and staining your old white Keds.

“Oh, Y/N. You okay?” Wayne asked concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You stuttered out, quickly dropping to the ground to clean the mess you’d made. “It slipped.”

“Here, I’ll help clean it up.” Wayne said as he walked to you.

“No!” You exclaimed. “It’s okay, I got it.” You forced a smile.

It was obvious you were incredibly anxious right now, anyone could see it.

“Uh, okay. Well, Y/N, this is my nephew, Eddie.”

You slowly stood back up, still nervous to meet Eddie’s gaze. You didn’t want Wayne to suspect anything so you finally looked up.

Eddie held that same unreadable look on his face that he did on Saturday at the hideout. It was one you hadn’t seen before then. He usually looked so angry and full of hate but now he just looked… like nothing.

“Hi, there.” You mumbled.

Eddie didn’t say anything. He simply turned his lip up to give you an awkward smile.

“Two coffees to start?” You said to no one in particular.

“Yes please, thank you darlin’” Wayne mused back.

The two men sat down at the counter as you turned your back to brew a new fresh pot of coffee. Even though your back was turned, you could feel Eddie's eyes burning holes into the back of your head.

You placed the two cups of coffee down in front of Wayne and Eddie without looking up. You had never felt this on edge in his presence before.

Eddie watched you float around the diner from the corner of his eye, not listening to Wayne speaking, for most of the time he was there. He noticed that you seemed more carefree and happier here then you were at school but he could tell his presence made you anxious.

He hated it.

He didn't really know why he hated you so much. He couldn't place why he tormented you to the extent he did. Sure, he was an asshole to everyone he encountered at school, students and teachers alike, but there was something about you he didn't understand. Something that burned inside him so hot that he saw red every time he saw you. He just wanted to hurt you the way he hurt.

"Alright boy, let's go. I got work soon." You heard Wayne mumble, finishing off his coffee and standing.

You turned and faced the two men for the first time since placing Waynes eggs in front of him.

Eddie was already looking at you.

His usually hard face still held that unreadable expression on it.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Wayne smiled after dropping his money on the counter.

Normally, you would have smiled and waved and said goodbye but tonight you simply raised your hand as the two left. Your eyes lingered on Eddie for a moment longer and then he also left.

When the doorbell chimed, signalling that they were gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't realise you had been holding. Now that Eddie and Wayne were gone, no one else was in the diner. Normally this was the perfect opportunity to finish off some homework but your mind was completely busy elsewhere. Tonight was a lot to take in. First, you'd finally met Wayne nephew and it turned out to be Eddie. You didn't understand how Wayne and Eddie could be related. Wayne was so kind and Eddie was... Eddie.

Secondly, you had no idea what the neutral, unreadable look on Eddie's face meant. Would he continue to terrorise you at school, maybe worse this time? He now knew where you worked too, which wasn't ideal.

You biked home once again after your shift and collapsed on your bed, falling asleep in your uniform.

It had been an eventful few days to say the least.

It didn't help your fatigue that you were working another shift tomorrow night. Your worries for tomorrow washed away however. You knew it was Wayne's night off, meaning he didn't come in for dinner beforehand. You'd be able to relax without seeing either of them.

Waking up the next morning, you quickly showered and dressed yourself before shoving your uniform into your bag again.

You noticed Eddie wasn't around in the morning. You thought he was probably out doing a drug deal or just late but you noticed that he wasn't in the cafeteria at lunch other. Perhaps another detention. But he also wasn't in the library, which was odd.

Even though Eddie hated school and everyone in it, it wasn't typical for him to skip. Whatever the reason may be, you were thankful for the day of peace and calm.

By the time the day come to an end, you had almost completely forgotten about the whole situation. Almost.

Walking into the diner, tightening the apron around your waist, your stopped in your tracks, blood turning cold once again.

Eddie was back. He was alone this time. He sat stoically by himself at the counter with his arms folded close to his chest, head looking down.

You shuddered out a breath. You figured he was here to confront you and yell at you for playing nice with his uncle. If this was any other diner or restaurant, you'd make a co-worker go and serve him but you couldn't do that. The was no one else here. It was just you.

You took a deep breath and slowly walked over, bracing yourself for hell.

"Hi.' You muttered, but he didn't look up. "W-would you like another coffee, Eddie?"

Eddie took a moment before he looked up at you. He had a soft, calm expression on his face. You hadn't really noticed it before but when he wasn't seething with hatred, Eddie was handsome. Large brown eyes, round like a baby cow and a long eyelashes with a dusting of freckles across his nose.

You shook away the thought, waiting for him to respond.

"I'm sorry I hurt you at school last week." He deadpanned.

"I-wh- Sorry?" It caught you off guard.

"And I'm sorry I hurt you when you did nothing wrong."

You didn't say anything, just looked at Eddie like a deer in headlights. You never once expected to ever speak to him in a normal setting, let alone have him apologise to you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, so I'll leave you alone." Eddie said as he stood up to leave but before he could turn around, he pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the counter.

"This was mine, but, you know," He mumbled.

It was a Sony Walkman. Not the same model as the one you had but one just as good.

"I also got you this." He said quieter this time. "I don't know if this is your kind of music but,"

I also placed down an Iron Maiden tape next to it. You still hadn't moved. Your were still too in shock too.

Eddie spared on last look you before he walked out. Your eyes slowly dropped down to the counter and softly reached out to take the Walkman and tape into your hands. In theory, it was an incredible gift. Eddie gave you his Walkman and apologised for hurting you.

You were conflicted and you had no idea what to think.

All you knew was that you wanted to say thank you. You just had to find out were Eddie lived. You couldn't confront him at school. That could go badly.

You needed to hatch a plan and speak to Eddie. All you wanted was to know why he hated you so much. Or didn't?

You had no idea.

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader #mean!eddie munson #bully!eddie Munson #enemies to lovers

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librababe99 · 1 day ago

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When They're All Home

Tags: Fluff, Bruce Wayne x Wife Reader, Batkids, Batfamily goodness WC: 910 words Summary: Surrounded by laughter and love, you cherish this fleeting moment of peace, knowing your family is finally home—even if just for tonight.

A/N: Hello! It's been a few weeks since I've last posted. I was feeling very burnt out with writing and didn't feel like I was providing the quality you all deserve. School and life also really started to pick up for me.... Buttttt I hope that this little fluffy one shot makes up for my absence!

| Masterlist |

The halls of Wayne Manor were bustling in a way that hadn’t happened in ages. The grand old house seemed to come alive with the unmistakable hum of voices, footsteps, and laughter—yes, even laughter. The rare symphony of the entire Wayne family being home at once.

You paused at the top of the grand staircase, gazing down as everyone settled in, a soft smile gracing your lips. Bruce came up behind you, placing a warm hand on your back, and for a moment, the two of you watched in contented silence.

“They’re all here,” you murmured, a soft warmth filling your chest. It didn’t happen often, not with the unique and sometimes complicated lives they each led. But tonight? Tonight, they were all home.

“Feels like the old days, doesn’t it?” Bruce whispered back, his deep voice low and gentle in your ear.

“Better,” you replied, eyes still taking in the sight below. Dick was laughing, arm around Tim’s shoulder as he animatedly recounted a story. Jason was by the window, looking like he might want to bolt but staying all the same, an amused smirk as he watched his brothers. Damian, his usual stoic self, pretended not to care but stuck close to you, his hand brushing yours as he leaned on the banister. Even Alfred was here, his dignified smile softened by the rare moment of togetherness.

“I just can’t believe they’re all here. All of them under one roof again.” You leaned into Bruce, letting yourself feel the happiness that filled your heart as you saw each of your boys together.

Downstairs, Dick was the first to catch sight of you both, his grin brightening as he waved you over. “Hey! Are you guys just gonna stand there all night, or are you going to come down and join us?”

Bruce smirked, giving you a look. “Duty calls.”

Hand in hand, the two of you descended the stairs, and as soon as you hit the landing, Dick pulled you both into a bear hug, one arm slung over each of you. "Glad you two decided to grace us with your presence,” he teased.

“Oh, we wouldn't miss this for the world,” you replied, hugging him back tightly. "I’m so glad you’re all here. It feels like…home.”

Jason scoffed from his spot by the window. “Getting sentimental already, huh?” But the hint of a smile softened his usual bravado.

You walked over, gently taking his hand. “If I didn’t know better, Jason, I’d say you missed us.”

He rolled his eyes, but the way he squeezed your hand back let you know he felt it, too. “Don’t push your luck…Ma.”

Your heart skipped, warmth spreading as you smiled at him. “Noted, Jason.”

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, memories, and everyone catching up on life. Tim and Damian found themselves in a surprising truce as they argued over strategy in one of their favorite board games. Dick made a dramatic performance of acting out stories from his latest missions, keeping everyone in stitches. Even Jason relaxed, offering up a few quips that had everyone laughing.

After dinner, you found yourself in the kitchen, tidying up while everyone was in the living room. You paused, leaning against the counter, letting the warmth of the night settle over you. They weren’t all your biological kids, but they were yours all the same. Your family, each of them so different yet so loved.

Bruce walked in, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m perfect,” you said, reaching up to lace your fingers through his. “I just… I love them so much, Bruce. Seeing them all together like this makes me feel…” You trailed off, unsure if there was even a word for how full your heart felt.

He gave you a rare, gentle smile. “They love you too. More than you know.” And then, after a pause, he added, “You’re the reason they’re all here. You’re what brought us all together.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” Bruce said, pulling you into his arms. “They’re home because of you.”

The two of you lingered in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s warmth, until you heard Tim’s voice call from the living room. “Are you two planning on hiding in there all night, or are we actually going to watch this movie, Mom?”

With a laugh, you and Bruce rejoined the group, taking your place among them. As the evening wore on, the boys began to drift off one by one, settling into the manor’s rooms or simply crashing on the couches. Jason fell asleep in an armchair, Damian nestled himself into a corner of the sofa with a book, and Dick was sprawled on the floor next to Tim, both of them talking quietly until their voices faded into the night.

When you and Bruce finally retired to your room, you glanced out the door one last time, your heart so full it ached.

“They’ll be off saving the world again tomorrow,” you murmured as you slipped under the covers, feeling Bruce’s arm wrap around you.

“But tonight, they’re home,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. And with that, you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the comfort of knowing that, for this one night, you had your whole family right where they belonged.

#Bruce Wayne x Wife Reader #batfamily fic #batfamily x reader #batmom reader #Jason Todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #batfam imagine #fluff #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #dc fandom #dc fanfic #dcu #fem reader

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jjonglemons · 2 days ago

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all my works can be found here

Divine Wine & Dine

happy topaz month!! In honour of wy and hj, i wanted to write a little fic based on the greek god theories going around about gh pt. 2's concept. enjoy ;)

WC: 2.4k

Tags: smut, dionysus!wooyoung, adonis!hongjoong, nymph!reader, partying, drinking, threesome, some rough sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cum play, a bit of dirty talk, oral (m&f receiving)

“Hongjoong, help me with this, please,” Wooyoung sighed, struggling to lift up the marble dining table off the ground, “the guests will be here soon.”

Hongjoong nodded, moving from helping the garden nymphs hang up floral decor to grabbing the opposite end of the table. The two of them quickly maneuvered it towards the side of the room near the entrance of the kitchen, dropping it into place with a huff.

“I think that’s everything,” Hongjoong exhaled, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Gods, they really need to stop making everything from marble. This shit is heavy.”

Wooyoung chuckled, patting his friend on the back. “We tell them this every year and they never listen.”

It wasn’t long before guests started arriving, including Wooyoung’s father, Zeus. He rarely showed up with a happy attitude for any occasion, so Wooyoung was preparing to hear some form of bullshit gibberish fall from his mouth during the party. Hongjoong, being the good friend that he was, had offered for them to have a joint party since their birthdays were so close together. His logic was that if it wasn’t just focused on Wooyoung, maybe his father would be less likely to cause a scene. Wooyoung warned him that it wouldn’t matter, especially since Hongjoong was a mortal, it’d probably make him subject to harsh comments directly from Zeus, too. And of course, Wooyoung would get some slap in the face for “daring” to become friends with a mortal. It was always “you need to focus on your godly duties” blah blah blah, and frankly, Wooyoung was sick of it. All of his so-called god “friends” were wishy-washy. There was always some sort of drama happening with them.

It was different with Hongjoong. He was calm and collected, staying out of other people’s business. He was very alluring to those who met him, and he’d been involved with many lovers through this attention. But, he was so kind and passionate; he never hung any of them out to dry. He was honest and open, and everyone left satisfied and cared for. That character reflected in all of his relationship dynamics, hence why he and Wooyoung’s friendship was solid. It was really important for Wooyoung, too, because it felt as though Hongjoong was making up for the relationship he wished he could have with his father. But he knew he never would, and he just had to live with the disappointment. Hongjoong was a healing presence for him.

“Ah, my son,” Zeus gleamed, making his way through the now apparent sea of people towards Wooyoung, “so good to see you.” He pulled him in for a hug, Wooyoung noticeably cringing under his touch.

“Hey, dad,” Wooyoung forced himself to smile as they parted from each other, “likewise.”

He nodded, then turned to Hongjoong standing beside his son, “and you must be the second guest of the party, I presume? What was your name again?”

“Hongjoong, sir,” Hongjoong swallowed, trying not to allow his distaste for his best friend's father to weigh on his presence.

“That’s right,” he smiled, “happiest birthday to you both,” then walked away.

Hongjoong and Wooyoung exhaled simultaneously, releasing all of the tension they were storing up from the encounter.

“Wow,” Wooyoung said, “I’m genuinely shocked he didn't insult either of us. Though, I’m a bit pissed he forgot your name again.”

Hongjoong chuckled, nudging his friend’s arm beside him. “Perhaps the gods are on our side tonight.”

“Perhaps.”

It didn’t take long for the music and guests to become louder, which only prompted Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s need to escape. It was too crowded, continuously resulting in the two of them getting bumped into every few seconds by wasted guests. Plus, they were beginning to feel overheated from their own consumption of alcohol, which did not mesh well with being overcrowded.

“Ugh,” Hongjoong gritted, “why did I listen to my parents' guest list? I don’t even know half of the people here.”

“You and me both,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “I may act all tough, but my father still has me right under his thumb.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes, please.”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong easily snuck out of the dining hall, which was the only positive outcome of having a lot of people in one area. Quietly, they shuffled through the mansion towards the greenhouse. As they approached the door, there was a sound of soft singing coming from the other side.

“I wonder who’s in here?” Wooyoung lifted his brows. “Everyone should be at the party right now.”

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who needed an escape,” Hongjoong added, lightly pushing the door open. Immediately upon entering, they noticed a figure in the corner, the one from which the singing was coming from.

There you were, hands gently holding the budding flowers of the rose bushes. They unfolded, their colours becoming more vibrant the more you sang.

“It’s Y/N,” Wooyoung whispered, identifying the silhouette.

You were a fairly new nymph in the mansion, only about two months into your job there. So far, it had been a lot of fun, and thankfully Wooyoung was always respectful. Hongjoong was too, whenever he’d come around to visit his dear friend. They were a breath of fresh air, not at all like the gods from your previous employments.

“Should we go somewhere else? I don’t want to disturb her-” Hongjoong cut himself off as he accidently bumped into one of the pots beside the entrance, causing a loud clunk.

You inhaled sharply, your singing coming to a halt. “Who’s there?” You demanded, turning around to face the entrance. Your face softened when you recognized it was only Wooyoung and Hongjoong. “Oh, hey, guys.”

To anyone outside of your friendship trio, you addressing them so casually would result in dirty looks and commanded apologies. But from the very beginning, they never wanted you to address them as authorities. Sure, they were a few years older than you, but they always viewed you as an equal. Wooyoung made it a point to make sure those in his home felt warm and welcome, unlike his father.

You emerged from the dark corner, approaching the two boys in the doorway. Wooyoung’s breath hitched in his throat when he caught sight of your dress. It was light blue, the sleeves flowing past your palms. It hugged your body perfectly. Wooyoung always thought you were attractive, but he had yet to see you all dolled up. He was whipped.

Hongjoong wasn’t any different. He stood there staring, mesmerised by your beauty. The way your turquoise curls touched just below your breasts. The way your eyes became pools of gold in the moonlight peaking through the transparent glass windows of the greenhouse.

You chuckled, noticing their attention. “Hello? Earth to Woojoong?”

Wooyoung cleared his throat, awkwardly darting his eyes away from you. “Sorry, you just…. Look really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you blushed, biting your lip slightly. “You look quite dapper, yourself.”

You peered up at him and Hongjoong, still feeling a bit tipsy from the party. Just like them, you always found them both to be attractive young men, but never thought about it much further. They have been such kind friends to you, and you were afraid of ruining that if you were to ever allow those attractions to be expressed. But seeing them dressed as they were, being as close as they were, off the clock and in the quiet, closed off space, and having a bit of liquid courage, you couldn’t help but allow your thoughts to run wild.

They must have sensed the energy shift too, because suddenly Wooyoung was only a millimeter away from your neck. He was leaning over to whisper into your ear.

“Pardon my manners, but I’d like to take this dress off of you, if you’re alright with that.”

You exhaled, shivers running through every inch of your body at his words. A small moan left your mouth, causing you to blush both out of arousal and embarrassment.

“What did you say to her?” Hongjoong giggled, noticing your reddened cheeks, “must have been very cheeky, huh?”

“Care to join?” You smirked, thanking the alcohol for giving you an extra boost of confidence.

Hongjoong was surprised for a moment, but quickly settled his features in an enticing hunger. He didn’t hear what Wooyoung said specifically, but it wasn’t hard for him to read the room. “I would like that very much.”

You took the two of them by the hands, gently leading them back to the corner you were found in earlier. There was a pile of bushes soft enough to lay in as well as a bottle, which one could only assume was liquor, beside them. You leaned over to pick it up and took a swig before holding it out to the two of them.

“It’s lotus liquor.”

Wooyoung and Hoongjoong quickly took the bottle from your hands, knowing very well the effects the concoction had on the consumer as an aphrodisiac. It would only enhance the pleasure.

“Seems like you were looking for something like this to happen, no?” Wooyoung smirked, “is that why you were drinking this all by yourself?”

They took their sips before placing it down in a spot further from where the three of you were standing so as to not knock it over when you got down to business.

Carefully, Wooyoung began tracing your collarbone as he stood behind you, while you began you gently feel up Hongjoong’s torso in front of you. You hummed under the touch, leaning your head slightly back against Wooyoung’s shoulder. Hongjoong placed his hands on your hips, bringing himself closer to you. He pressed his lips against yours hastily, his tongue quickly finding yours. You gripped at the hem of his shirt, biting down gently on his bottom lip as you continued to kiss one another. He groaned, tightening his grip on you in response. Wooyoung unzipped the back of your dress, feathering kisses along your spine. With his teeth, he unclipped your bra, and you pulled away from Hongjoong for a moment so you could allow your clothing to slip down off of you onto the floor.

“Gods,” Hongjoong hissed, taking in the sight of you, “you are so fucking beautiful.”

“As are you both, your heinesses.”

Quickly, Hongjoong knelt in front of you, looping the straps of your panties around his fingers to pull them off of you, revealing your growing arousal.

“I need to taste you,” he pleaded, glancing up at you from his knees desperately.

“Taste me, then.” You said.

Hongjoong didn’t waste another moment, his lips quickly meeting your sensitive nub. He flicked gently as he switched between circling it and spreading your slick further around your folds. You moaned, gripping his hair. Wooyoung bit down on your neck, harshly sucking at the skin to mark you, he wrapped one arm around your throat, the other your breasts. He played with your hardened nipples, sucking your neck harder every time you moaned.

“I-I’m going to come.” You stuttered, your legs becoming slightly weak. The mens’ grip on you kept you upright and steady.

“Come for me,” Hongjoong muttered against your core, “let me swallow your pleasure.”

With those last five words, you allowed yourself to come undone, your juices flowing into his mouth and down his chin. He moaned loudly as he drank you in, devouring your orgasm. He stood up, placing a kiss on your lips before removing his clothing. Wooyoung released you for a short time so he could do the same.

“What would you like to do, hmm?” Wooyoung sang, now standing in front of you. He lifted your chin to look up at him and smirked, then leaned in to kiss you. You melted into his lips immediately.

“I want your cock, Wooyoung,” you begged between kisses, “I want you to fuck me. Give me your best.”

And with that, he pushed you down on the bushes and threw your legs over his shoulders. He started gently, but once you had adjusted, he began pounding into you with no remorse.

“Fuck!” you screamed, gripping at his back, “fuck, fuck fuck!”

Hongjoong was now hovering about your head, his hardened cock begging for your touch. You took it within your hands and placed your mouth onto his tip. He sighed as you began to move your palm along his shaft, swirling your tongue around him in unison.

“Shit,” he breathed shakily, “don’t stop!”

You couldn’t help but allow your eyes to roll back as you wriggled and mewled beneath the two men, the three of you completely ravishing one another. Wooyoung continued holding your hips cruelly as his cock filled up every inch of you. Cries fell from his lips as he watched you squirm below from his thrusts and taking in Hongjoong’s cock completely.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, nearly reaching his limit, “I’m going to come in this sweet pussy of yours.”

Wooyoung unravelled, bucking his hips into you ruthlessly as he released his orgasm, filling your pussy completely with his come. Hongjoong sputtered his hips as you continued to suck on his tip, swallowing his come as he reached his peak.

Wooyoung quickly replaced his cock with his fingers, pushing his cum back inside of you as he pressed against your g-spot. You exhaled as Hongjoong removed himself from your mouth, his come now entirely consumed by you. You gripped his thighs behind the back of your head to keep yourself steady as Wooyoung pushed you over the edge, coming for a second time. Wooyoung leaned down to drink up your arousal, licking up the rest on his fingers as he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes. You breathed heavily, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the soft bushes you were lying against.

You hadn’t realised you had fallen asleep. When you awoke in your bedroom, you found your dress was back on your body, and there was a bouquet of roses sitting on your nightstand with a note attached to it.

Dearest Y/N,

We had a lovely night and would love to see you again. -W & H

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kpop smut #smut #ateez hongjoong #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #ateez seonghwa #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez yunho #ateez jongho

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sweetcheeksschemmenti · 8 hours ago

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Happy Birthday, Cowgirl!

Melissa Schemmenti x fem oc

Summary: You wake up expecting it to be another forgotten birthday. Melissa makes sure it’s one for the books.

WC: 2.2k

Today is my 25th birthday! I wrote this for myself and figured someone else might enjoy it, too.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Growing up, your parents never made your birthday a big deal and you didn’t understand it. All of your friends… and even your brother… got to celebrate their big day with cupcakes and parties filled with presents and excitement. Not you. November 5th was just another day as far as your family was concerned. Occasionally they would remember and mumble a simple ‘happy birthday’ as you walked out the door to walk to school, but there was no fanfare. Despite the fact that you always went out of your way to celebrate the birthdays of those close to you, you’d grown accustomed to not celebrating your own.

You had been dating Melissa Schemmenti for almost a year when your 28th birthday rolled around. Normally on a Saturday morning you would wake up with a mouthful of red hair and a hand full your girlfriend’s breast. Unfortunately, work had sent you to Nashville for a truly unnecessary- yet mandatory- conference, so instead you woke up alone in a ridiculously themed Margaritaville hotel suite. Jimmy Buffett himself stared down at you from the wall like a tacky Jesus portrait at your Grandma’s house. You glanced at your phone on the nightstand to see a missed call from the redhead. What the hell was she doing awake at six in the morning on a Saturday? There was no voicemail so you picked up the phone and called her back. Your brows knit together in confusion as you were sent straight to voicemail, something that very rarely happened. Assuming she had put her phone on ‘do not disturb’ and gone back to bed, you shrugged and got up to get ready for the day.

Once showered and dressed, you grabbed a granola bar and banana from the mini fridge and sat in front of the television to watch the morning news. After listening to a couple of local stories you tuned out the noise and stared out the window as you ate. The granola bar was stale and the banana wasn’t quite ripe… pretty on brand for your birthday. You gave up a couple of bites in and tossed them in the trash, opting for a half-eaten candy bar from your purse instead. With a deep sigh, you gathered your things for work and headed towards the door. You paused to look at yourself in the mirror once more before you left, staring a little too long at the bags under your eyes. Time was already leaving its mark on you. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself before you left for the day.

Around noon the team split from the conference for lunch with plans to return at two. Instead of joining your coworkers, you decided to grab take out from the restaurant at the hotel and eat in your room with hopes of maybe getting to talk to your girlfriend too. You scarfed down your hot chicken sandwich before dialing Melissa’s number; again, it went straight to voicemail. Disappointed, you tossed your phone onto the bed with a huff and sat on the edge with your head in your hands. You had hoped for at least a ‘happy birthday’ text from Melissa, but now you were starting to think that even she didn’t want to celebrate your day. You set an alarm and laid down for a nap thinking it might make the day go by faster.

The alarm blared and you sat straight up with a gasp- something Melissa always teased you about. ‘It’s like you remember ya left the stove on or somethin’,’ she’d mumble. It had only been two days without her, but you missed her. You decided to try the phone one more time before heading back to work, disappointed when you heard the voicemail message yet again. In a bit of a grumpy mood, you left the room and met back up with your coworkers.

“What’s that face for, Y/N? You look like someone kicked your puppy,” Seth said as you approached. You rolled your eyes and shrugged.

“Sorry, my face doesn’t have an inside voice. I’m alright. Ready to get back to it?” You straightened yourself out and slapped on a smile.

Seth and the rest of the team nodded and followed you out to the van knowing better than to question you. The rest of the work day dragged by as slow as molasses. Luckily, you were able to score a new deal on printer paper for the office through one of the new connections you made; it was a small something, but it brightened your day a little. By the end of the work day everyone was ready to head to Broadway for the annual bar crawl. You told Seth you’d catch up with the team in a few hours and caught an Uber back to the hotel. The day had really bummed you out and you just wanted to sleep for a while before forcing yourself to be social with your drunk coworkers.

Just as you sat down on the bed to call Melissa one last time, the landline rang. You blinked at it for a second before picking it up. “…Hello?”

“Hello, is this Miss Y/L/N?”

“This is she.” You toed your shoes off as you spoke, setting them next to the nightstand.

“Good evening! This is Jasmine from the front desk. We have a guest down here that wishes to visit by the name of Seth Kagan. Do you give your permission for us to give him your room number?”

You shake your head in confusion. Why wouldn’t Seth just text you? “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. Thank you for checking.”

Minutes later, there was a knock at the door and you knew it had to be Seth. You swung the door open without looking and held it for him to enter. “Don’t just stand there, man, come on.” Your eyes were on the floor.

“Well that ain’t no way to greet your girlfriend after she flew six hours to see ya,” Melissa chuckled.

Your eyes widened as you finally looked up to see the redhead standing in the doorway with an arm full of flowers and a small square box. “Baby?! What are y-, how did.. hello?!”

Melissa entered the room and set everything down before turning to face you with open arms. You eagerly wrapped yourself around her in a tight embrace. She felt like home, a comfort you’d not known until you fell in love with her. She held you close and pressed sweet kisses to your head. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she whispered.” You pulled away just enough to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, moaning quietly when she nipped at your bottom lip.

The kiss broke and you leaned back just a little. “Mel, what is this!?” You gently hit her shoulder as tears welled up in your eyes, her arms still wrapped around you.

She smiled, a twinkle in her eye. The way she looked at you made you actually believe that she hung the moon and stars in the sky just for your enjoyment. “It’s your birthday, ya dork! I wanted to surprise you. We brought cake and presents.” Gently and lovingly, she wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes.

You cocked your head. “We? Who’s ‘we’?”

Just then, there was another knock at the door. Melissa released you from her grasp and pointed towards the door. “Go on, open it.”

You moved towards the door quickly and opened it, peeking out from behind the door to see an empty hallway. You’d expected to see a couple of your coworkers, but there was nothing. “Huh…”

“SURPRISE!!” Your friends, chosen family, and Seth shouted as they stepped in front of the door. Barbara, Jacob, Janine, and a handful of other folks from home had made the journey from Philly to Nashville… for you. For your birthday. You were in shock. No one ever put in this kind of effort for your birthday.

“Oh my gosh, come in! Wow… you guys! This is… this is too much,” you stammered as they all entered the suite, tears streaming down your face.

The small group greeted you with hugs and kind words, handing off gifts to Melissa for you to open later. Thanks to Janine and Jacob, your suite was transformed with cowgirl decorations and a birthday banner in the matter of minutes. Shots were poured into little cowboy boot shot glasses and passed around to everyone. Melissa held hers up, an arm wrapped around your waist. “Cheers to the birthday girl,” she shouted and everyone cheered in response.

You gleefully mingled with your loved ones, occasionally meeting eyes with Melissa across the room, causing a delightful pink to grace your cheeks. Once the sun had set, the group made moves to head down to Broadway to hit the bars. Barbara handed you a bag before she left, “we’ll see you down there, honey. Drinks are on Sea Barbara tonight!” You took the bag and thanked her as the group left, leaving just you and Melissa.

Melissa sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. “You havin’ a good birthday, hon?”

You leaned on the back of the couch with the bag still in hand as you thought about your day. “I really am. Thank you for putting all of this together, baby. I’m… a little overwhelmed, honestly. No one has ever done anything like this for me. How’d you get everyone down here?” You set the bag down and stepped towards your girlfriend, straddling her lap.

She held grabbed your hips and pulled you down onto her lap, leaning forward to kiss you. “ I know a guy, “she smirked. “And you don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You deserve to be celebrated.”

“Ya know… in all my 28 years, I’ve never felt loved on my birthday. It’s always just been another day on the calendar. You’ve changed that for me… that’s something special.”

“Like I said, you deserve to be celebrated. I love you, hon. As long as I’m around you’ll never have another shitty birthday. I promise.” She made a cross on her heart to show she meant it. And you believed her. You hummed in response and raked your fingers through her fiery locs before you leaned in for another kiss. Melissa immediately deepened it, darting her tongue out to taste you.

In the middle of the lazy make out session, Melissa’s phone buzzed with a text from Barbara- signaling that it was time to head to the bars. You chuckled as your lips parted. “Oh, so NOW your phone works, huh?”

She swatted at your ass. “I’m sorry! I did try to call you at the ass cracking of dawn to be the first to wish ya happy birthday, but you were asleep! Then my phone was on airplane mode until we got here because I forgot to turn it off.” She gave you a smile she knew you couldn’t resist and you shook your head with a grin.

“You were still the first one to wish me a happy birthday…. I forgive you.” You placed one more kiss to her lips before you stood up and smoothed out your shirt. You took Melissa’s hand and started pulling her towards the door. She paused and picked up the bag Barbara had handed you earlier, placing it in your hands again.

“Open it.” You did as told and pulled the tissue paper out. Inside was a bright pink cowgirl hat that matched the decorations in the room. The smile on your face grew, so much so that your cheeks began to hurt. Melissa took the hat from your hands and placed it on your head, fluffing your hair for you before turning you towards to mirror to see. “Oh this is perfect,” you laughed.

Melissa snatched the hat off your head and put it on her own. You gasped and turned towards her, “Melissa! Do you know the cowboy hat rule?!” She shook her head and you bit your lip. Nine times out of ten, Melissa was the leader in the bedroom. Your cheeks warmed at the thought of this night being the one time out of ten. “If you put on a cowgirl’s hat… you have to ride the cowgirl.”

She pulled you in for a heated kiss. “That’s one of the few rules I’m willing to follow,” she whispered in your ear before nibbling at your lobe, earning a whimper from you.

“Later, baby. Gotta at least have a few drinks on Broadway tonight.” You took your hat back and settled it on your head. “Can’t lose the hat. A cowgirl can’t ride without it,” you winked at her, enjoying the blush that spread over her cheeks.

Melissa smacked your ass as you walked out the door. “Oh, don’t you worry. I’m not lettin’ that hat outta my sight! We gotta find a screw driver or something on the way back to take Jimmy off the wall though… I don’t know if I can uh… focus with Mr. Margaritaville staring me down.”

You pulled a screwdriver from your jacket pocket and held it up. “Already ahead of ya, baby.” You laughed together as you walked down the hall hand in hand.

No more shitty birthdays.

#melissa schemmenti x female oc #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti & you #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #janine teagues #barbara howard #jacob hill #waistin’ away again in Margaritaville #Spotify

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amethystarachnid · 1 day ago

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MUTANT BODYGUARD - part III

⤷ JAMES LOGAN HOWLETT

ᯓ★ Pairing: James Logan Howlett x fem!reader

ᯓ★ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff and spicy (I mean, it's Logan...)

ᯓ★ Story type: short story

ᯓ★ Word count: 8.3k

ᯓ★ Summary: Your life with Logan was going just fine, but fine doesn't last long in celebrities' world: first rumors of a break up, then of him having an affair, Logan can't stand to see you so upset and decides to take matter into his own hands with a livestream.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of cheating

ᯓ★ Timeline: doesn't follow a timeline in the x-men movies

ᯓ★ Request: I would love to read more of this. Can you imagine Logan's reaction if the tabloids spread crazy rumors of a breakup or an affair like they do to celebrities all of the time (especially if it's about him). He'd be so confused and probably annoyed if the reader teased him about it (@needz1nk)

ᯓ★ From: Marvel Bingo, Bodyguard romance x Age Gap

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier lover click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn't my first language and this isn’t proof read

In the weeks following the premiere and the much-talked-about bathroom incident, the media whirlwind surrounding you and Logan only intensified. What started as a curious whisper in celebrity news quickly exploded into a full-blown frenzy, with headlines splashing your relationship across screens and magazine covers everywhere. The story of an A-list actress and her bodyguard falling in love had the public hooked, and as the details trickled out, interest only grew. Some saw it as the ultimate fairytale romance; others found reasons to criticize. But the one thing that everyone seemed to agree on was that they couldn't look away.

To your surprise, the publicity sparked an unexpected wave of support from fans, old and new. Overnight, you gained a whole new group of followers who adored the idea of a love story that defied Hollywood norms. Your existing fans were thrilled to see a new side of you, one that was raw and authentic, and they rallied around you, excited to see you so visibly happy. They shared clips from interviews, fan edits of you and Logan on the red carpet, and screenshots from the infamous bathroom encounter. The comments flooded your social media: "Finally! She's found someone who treats her like a queen!" "They are SO cute together, I’m obsessed!" "This is real love. Logan’s the best thing to happen to her!" These fans painted your timeline with heart emojis, hashtags about true love, and affirmations that they’d “ship” you and Logan forever.

But it wasn’t just your fans who were excited; Logan found himself with an entirely new fan base of his own. Almost overnight, he was propelled from being a low-key presence in your life to a reluctant but undeniable celebrity in his own right. Fan pages popped up dedicated entirely to him, featuring candid photos of Logan at events, his brooding glances at premieres, and, most frequently, the rare, disarming smile that he would flash only at you. Girls who had likely never noticed Logan’s existence before were now obsessing over his rugged looks and quiet confidence. They analyzed his style, dissected his every movement, and swapped theories about his background. Despite his straightforward nature, Logan was an enigma to them, a new kind of celebrity who neither wanted the fame nor cared about the public adulation. The mystery only added to his appeal.

Social media was brimming with Logan-related content, much of it filled with admiration and even longing. Comments like, “If I can’t have a man like Logan, what’s the point?” and “Forget actors—I want a real man like him!” filled his unofficial fan pages. People shared photoshopped images of themselves with him, fan fiction imagining scenarios where they were in your place, and “Logan appreciation” threads discussing every aspect of his appeal. Some even went so far as to analyze the subtle possessiveness he had towards you, swooning over how protective he seemed. To many, he was the embodiment of an old-school romance hero, a modern knight who had swept in to protect and claim his woman in a world where that felt rare.

But as with anything that reached this level of fame, not all of the attention was positive. Alongside the supportive comments and fan accounts, there were plenty of harsh, critical voices determined to tear you down. Many people were quick to question what a successful actress like you was doing with someone like Logan, a bodyguard whose life had previously been so removed from the glitz of Hollywood. They called you names, some implying that your relationship was a publicity stunt, a bid for attention rather than a genuine connection. Others criticized Logan, saying he was just another “bodyguard boyfriend” trying to capitalize on your fame and insinuating that he was only with you for personal gain.

The hate was worst on social media, where anonymity often emboldened people to say things they wouldn’t dare voice in person. Comments like “What does she even see in him?” or “She’s just desperate for attention” littered your posts. Some were even more malicious, accusing you of “using Logan to stay relevant” or “replacing real talent with a guy she pays to protect her.” A few particularly harsh ones left a bitter taste in your mouth, claiming things like, “He’s way too good for her. She’ll chew him up and spit him out like every other guy.” Or, “This relationship won’t last—she’ll move on when something better comes along.”

As more and more of these comments appeared, you found yourself drawn to reading them, almost obsessively. Logan noticed, of course. He was perceptive enough to catch the flicker of hurt in your eyes when you looked at your phone, and he’d quietly reach over, pulling you close or brushing his hand along your back, grounding you in the simplicity of his presence. He didn't bother with comments himself, brushing them off like flies, reminding you time and again that the opinions of strangers meant nothing to him. But for you, it was harder to ignore. You were used to some degree of online criticism as an actress, but this—people questioning your worth as a person, as Logan’s partner—felt different. More personal.

Logan’s attitude was almost infuriating in its calm. "Why are you letting this get to you?" he’d ask in his straightforward way, his tone gruff yet gentle as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "We know what’s real here. We know us." And, for the most part, you tried to hold onto that—his certainty in the face of so much noise. But as the relationship continued to grow in the public eye, so did the backlash, and it felt relentless.

One evening, after a particularly long day filled with work obligations and negative comments online, you finally snapped. You were sitting on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through the endless barrage of insults, unable to look away. “I just don’t get it, Logan,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration. “Why do people hate that we’re together? Why does it matter so much to them?”

Logan took a seat beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch as he looked at you with that steady gaze. “Because it’s easier for them to tear down what they don’t understand. They don’t know us—they only know what they see through a screen. And that’s their problem, not ours.”

He took the phone from your hand, setting it aside. “Let them talk,” he said simply, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “We don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not them, not the press, no one.”

You looked into his eyes, and something inside you calmed. There, in his gaze, you saw a reminder of why this was worth it—why he was worth it. Logan’s love was fierce, unwavering, unbothered by the noise of the outside world. His grip on you was steady, grounding, reminding you that while the world might be relentless in its opinions, your relationship was a world in itself, untouched by the chaos outside.

In the following weeks, you began to focus more on the people who supported you, on those who cheered you on. Fan art, letters, and messages poured in from people who felt inspired by your relationship. There were stories from fans who saw your romance as proof that love could be found in unexpected places, that there were still people in the world who loved fully, openly, and without pretense. You shared little glimpses of your life with Logan—a cozy coffee date, a lazy Sunday spent reading together, the way he cooked you breakfast, often burning the toast but always insisting on making it himself.

The support grew, and eventually, it drowned out the negativity. You learned to scroll past the hateful comments, ignoring them in favor of the warm messages of encouragement and love. Fans sent you photos of their own relationships, shared stories of how they met their partners, and thanked you for showing a love story that felt real and grounded. You and Logan became symbols of something rare, a reminder that even in the glamorous world of Hollywood, love could be simple, honest, and unbreakable.

And though Logan still brushed off his fame with a gruff indifference, even he couldn’t ignore the sheer number of fans who now adored him. He’d laugh and shake his head at the fan edits, the swooning comments, and the declarations of love from girls around the world. It was amusing to him, in a way, but he never let it distract from what mattered most to him—you.

On one of the quieter nights, after the frenzy had calmed a bit and life had settled into a new rhythm, Logan pulled you into his arms, his gaze soft and tender. “They can say what they want,” he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle patterns along your hand. “I don’t care about the fans, the reporters, the hate. I care about you. Just you.”

In that moment, you knew that nothing could shake the foundation you had built together. You’d face the public scrutiny, the fan obsessions, and the media circus as long as you had Logan by your side. His love was your safe haven, an anchor in the storm. No matter what the world threw your way, you’d face it together, knowing that what you had was stronger than any headline, truer than any rumor, and more resilient than the relentless opinions of the world outside. And with that knowledge, you finally felt at peace.

But peace never lasts long.

The morning sunlight streamed softly through the blinds, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. You blinked awake, still heavy with sleep, finding yourself entangled with Logan, both of you cocooned in the soft sheets, the remnants of the previous night still lingering in the gentle aches and comfortable mess you lay in. Logan was tucked against you, his face nestled against your chest, arms wrapped securely around your waist. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where his usual stoic, protective demeanor softened completely, replaced with something vulnerable and at peace.

You reached up, gently running your fingers through his messy hair, savoring the way he leaned into your touch, almost nuzzling closer with a content sigh. He was still half-asleep, his breathing steady and deep, and you took a quiet moment to simply enjoy the closeness, the peaceful warmth of his body pressed to yours.

Trying not to disturb him, you carefully reached over to the nightstand for your phone, scrolling through notifications and messages that had piled up overnight. A headline immediately caught your eye, its bold letters practically screaming back at you: “Hollywood It-Couple Split? Inside Sources Say Y/N and Logan Call It Quits.” Your mouth twisted in frustration as you read the so-called “insider scoop,” filled with baseless claims and invented reasons for your supposed breakup. There were even theories about a “rising actor” who had “come between you,” speculating wildly about drama that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

The words clawed at you, stirring irritation—but then you looked down at Logan, blissfully unaware, relaxed and vulnerable in a way only you ever saw. A mischievous idea sparked, and you carefully angled your phone to capture the scene, framing his face nestled against you, his arm looped around your waist, both of you tangled together beneath the sheets. You barely stifled a laugh, sure that Logan would have rolled his eyes if he were awake.

After double-checking the photo, you typed out a quick caption: Woke up to some…interesting headlines this morning. We’re fine, thanks. Adding a winking emoji, you hit Post and set your phone aside, the grin still playing on your lips.

The post took off almost instantly, notifications flooding in as fans and friends alike chimed in. Most comments were thrilled reactions, with fans sending heart emojis and playfully chiding the tabloids for trying to mess with “the ultimate couple.” Others were friends and fellow actors tagging Logan, with messages like “Better watch out—she’s got the receipts!”

As the notifications rolled in, Logan stirred, blinking awake and looking up at you, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, as he stretched and tightened his arm around you. His eyes shifted to your phone, catching a glimpse of the notifications lighting up the screen. “What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, barely holding back a laugh as you handed him the phone. “Just correcting a few tabloid rumors.”

He squinted at the screen, his expression shifting from confusion to a smirk as he took in the post. “So…we’ve broken up, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Didn’t realize that’s how I spent my night.”

You snorted, shaking your head as he looked back at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Guess they think I dumped you or something,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But, you know, I figured I’d let them know I’m still kind of attached.”

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. “Good. Maybe now they’ll back off.” He nestled closer, resting his head back against your chest, his hand finding yours beneath the sheets. His thumb traced gentle circles on your skin, and he took a long, contented breath, settling back down beside you. “But if they keep it up…maybe I’ll give them a real reason to talk.”

You laughed, the two of you lingering in the warmth of each other and the morning, the world and its noise fading completely into the background.

The decision to go public that day felt more like a playful challenge than a chore. After the tabloid drama and breakup rumors, you and Logan wanted to make a statement—and what better way than a casual, romantic date in broad daylight? The plan was to keep it simple: a quiet brunch in one of the city’s more charming cafés, followed by a relaxed walk through a nearby park. It was your kind of day, one that would be easygoing… at least in theory.

As you strolled into the café, Logan’s hand resting firmly on your waist, you couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill at the curious glances that people threw your way. Some recognized you immediately, eyes widening as they connected the dots, their gazes shifting from you to Logan. There was something invigorating about the excitement, the quiet murmur of onlookers exchanging theories and tidbits of information about you two. Logan, however, seemed undeterred. He wore that calm, collected expression, the slightest smirk on his lips as he leaned down to ask, “Are you sure about this?”

You laughed, giving him a quick nudge with your shoulder. “Just relax. If we don’t play into it, maybe the rumors will die down, and everyone can go back to wondering who the next big rom-com couple is.”

Logan chuckled softly, but the humor didn’t mask the possessiveness in his gaze as he looked at you. “Let them look,” he muttered, his voice low and more serious than before. “They’ll get the message.”

You ordered your coffee and pastries, taking a seat by the large window, where sunlight poured in and gave the whole scene a warm glow. Logan stretched an arm along the back of your chair, his fingers tracing idle circles on your shoulder. You leaned into him, savoring the intimacy. His touch was protective, almost territorial, a statement to anyone paying attention. And given the covert snaps you noticed from a couple of phones nearby, people were most definitely paying attention.

As you sipped your coffee, you felt the heat of his gaze on you, and when you looked up, his eyes were smoldering, hinting at the simmering tension between you both. His thumb traced light patterns on your skin, a touch that seemed innocent to anyone watching, but you knew better. You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face.

“Behave,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, grinning.

“Trying to,” he murmured, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re making it difficult.”

Just then, a group of young fans approached your table, their excitement barely contained. “Y/N, we’re so sorry to interrupt, but could we maybe get a picture with you?” one of them asked, her voice shaking slightly as she held out her phone.

You smiled warmly and stood up, nodding. “Of course! No need to apologize. It’s great to meet you all!”

Logan remained seated, watching with a mix of pride and amusement as you interacted with them. You could feel his eyes following you, as if even this brief separation was pushing the limits of his patience. When a few other fans spotted you, they hurried over, and you ended up signing a few autographs, sharing laughs, and answering quick questions. But all the while, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Logan’s gaze—protective, possessive—burning into you.

When you finally returned to your seat, you found him leaning back, a smug grin on his face. He reached out, taking your hand in his, but instead of his usual steady grip, he laced his fingers through yours, holding you close, and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His thumb traced along your knuckles, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and heat. “Missed you,” he murmured, his voice low.

You bit your lip, the warmth in his touch sparking a subtle thrill. “I was only gone for a minute.”

“Yeah, well, felt like longer,” he replied, his gaze slipping down to your lips. And with that, he shifted closer, so close that his arm practically enveloped you.

As you exchanged glances, you noticed movement outside the café window. A few paparazzi were hovering, cameras clicking as they angled to get the best view of you two. You suppressed a sigh, your fingers giving his a light squeeze.

Logan noticed them too, and a smirk tugged at his lips. “They’re going to have a field day,” he said, voice low, almost amused.

“Well,” you replied, leaning back in your seat and resting your hand on his leg, “let’s give them a reason to talk.”

Without hesitation, Logan slipped his arm fully around you, his fingers gently tracing up your spine, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. He pulled you in a bit closer, his other hand finding its way to your knee, sending sparks through you. His touch felt like a secret promise, an unspoken agreement that this day would end much differently than it started.

For a while, you both stayed there, the casual intimacy you shared made even more tantalizing by the audience beyond the glass. The café staff seemed oblivious, while the other patrons either pretended not to notice or tried unsuccessfully to hide their intrigue. But Logan’s focus was solely on you, his gaze dark and hungry. When he shifted his hand slightly, trailing his thumb along your thigh, you felt your breath catch. His fingertips pressed into your leg with a subtle possessiveness, and you found yourself pressing closer to him, drawn by the warmth radiating between you.

After what felt like an eternity of heightened tension, you finally looked up at him, the simmering heat between you both almost unbearable. “Maybe we should head back?” you suggested, your voice a little breathless.

Logan’s smirk widened, and he nodded, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Good idea.”

You left the café, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you outside. The paparazzi didn’t miss a beat, following as you both made your way down the street. Logan’s arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you closer, and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his touch protective and intimate. You felt the heat of his body against yours, the silent promise in every gentle graze of his fingers, and it made your pulse quicken.

Once you were out of the immediate view of the photographers, Logan’s pace quickened, his hand firmly grasping yours as he practically guided you through the bustling street back toward your penthouse. The urgency in his touch sent a thrill through you, and you matched his steps, the excitement building with every block closer you got.

By the time you reached the front door, he was practically pressing into you, his hands slipping to your waist as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, searing kiss. You fumbled with your keys, finally managing to open the door, and Logan wasted no time as he swept you inside, shutting it firmly behind you. His hands found your waist, drawing you close as he kissed you again, his touch heated and demanding, all traces of the earlier restraint gone.

In the elevator up to your penthouse, the air between you was charged, every glance and touch laced with unspoken desire. When the doors finally opened, he pulled you through the hallway, neither of you able to keep your hands off each other. You finally reached the bedroom, and Logan wasted no time, pressing you gently against the door as he captured your mouth in a kiss that was fierce and full of promise. His hands roamed your body, drawing out every shiver and gasp as he reminded you exactly why you were his and no one else’s.

Hours later, the two of you lay tangled in bed, your skin still warm and hearts racing. Logan’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you close as you traced lazy patterns on his chest, both of you basking in the afterglow. His fingers trailed along your back, grounding you in the quiet intimacy that followed the rush of your passion.

You looked up at him, finding his gaze soft and content as he watched you, the earlier fire replaced by a gentle warmth. “That was some date,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Logan chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Best one yet.” He wrapped his arm tighter around you, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “You think they got the message?”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss him, savoring the way he responded, his touch possessive yet tender. “I’d say so. But even if they didn’t, I think I did.”

Logan’s smirk softened into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he gazed at you. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

And you believed him when he told you that, maybe it was a mistake.

Logan's departure that morning had been straightforward enough, or so you thought. He’d given you a warm kiss, his hand lingering at the small of your back before he told you he had to step out for a meeting with his boss at the security company. He looked over at you with a reassuring smile, promising to be back soon, and you smiled back, content to spend a few hours on your own, catching up on your script and maybe even indulging in a bath while he was away. But as soon as the door closed behind him, you felt a pang of loneliness tug at you, surprising you with its strength.

Settling into your routine, you tried to distract yourself. The penthouse was quiet, bathed in soft, early-morning sunlight, and you could almost convince yourself to relax as you flipped through the pages of your script. But then, only half an hour after Logan left, your phone buzzed with the first notification, and then another, and another.

With a quick glance, you saw a string of messages, each one loaded with concern—or worse, nosy excitement.

“Did you see?!” “Is it true? I can’t believe it!” “Are you okay, Y/N?”

A frown creased your brow as you scrolled, your stomach sinking. It wasn’t like you to entertain rumors, especially when they came from gossipy texts and half-informed messages. But curiosity, and a rising dread, got the better of you. Taking a deep breath, you tapped on one of the links a friend had sent, dreading what you might find.

The headline blared across the screen: "Hollywood Bodyguard Logan Hunter Seen Entering Hotel of Y/N's Onscreen Rival—Secret Affair?"

You felt a pang in your chest, an ache that spread like ice through your veins. The article went on to detail how Logan was supposedly spotted entering a high-end hotel known for housing out-of-town celebrities. It even specified that just last night, the actress playing your onscreen rival had checked into that very hotel, sparking an avalanche of speculation. Photographers had apparently captured Logan, his head down, wearing his usual serious expression as he slipped through the hotel doors.

Scrolling down, you were greeted with low-quality images that only seemed to confirm what the article suggested. Your stomach twisted as you looked at each one, desperately searching for anything that might tell you it wasn’t him or that this was just some ridiculous, elaborate misunderstanding. But there was no denying the figure in the pictures, no denying his familiar stance and his unmistakable gait.

The words blurred on the screen as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You wanted to dismiss it as another fabricated rumor, but you couldn’t shake the sick feeling churning inside. Why hadn’t he mentioned meeting anyone else? And why had he gone to a hotel—especially one that you knew was currently hosting the actress you’d been cast against?

Your phone buzzed again, breaking you from your spiraling thoughts. It was a text from your best friend:

“Are you okay? I’m here if you need to talk.”

The floodgates opened, and you wiped at a tear slipping down your cheek. The logical part of you wanted to believe there was some other explanation, that this was all just some twisted coincidence, but doubt gnawed at you. How many times had you seen stories of relationships torn apart by the pressures of Hollywood, of people you thought you knew falling for someone else?

The hours ticked by slowly, each minute dragging as you paced the penthouse, your mind replaying the images of Logan entering the hotel over and over. You tried distracting yourself, tried focusing on the work in front of you, but everything felt meaningless, drowned by a painful insecurity that left you feeling hollow. Every time your phone buzzed with another notification, you felt a jolt of dread, bracing yourself for more damning evidence, more messages laced with pity or curiosity.

By the time the sky had darkened, you’d grown exhausted from waiting, from the endless battle in your mind. Just when you were beginning to think you couldn’t handle it any longer, you heard the click of the front door. Logan stepped in, looking tired but offering you that familiar smile. But one look at you, and his expression softened, worry instantly replacing the calm he’d walked in with.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle as he crossed the room toward you, brow furrowed with concern.

You swallowed, the hurt in your chest making it hard to meet his eyes. But you forced yourself to look up, forcing out the words. “Where were you today, Logan?”

He blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “I told you—I had a meeting with my boss. It was… it took a bit longer than expected.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why did I see pictures of you going into that hotel? The one where…” Your voice trailed off as you struggled to get the words out. “Where she’s staying?”

Realization dawned in his eyes, and he reached out, but you took a step back, needing space to breathe. The last thing you wanted was to let him see how deeply his absence had hurt you, but you couldn’t help the hurt and confusion that flashed across your face.

Logan’s gaze softened, his shoulders slumping as he realized the depth of your pain. “Y/N… I can explain everything. But please believe me, I would never hurt you. Never.”

His words were soft, sincere, and they tugged at your heart, urging you to believe him. But the images, the articles, and the words of everyone who’d reached out to you that day weighed heavily on your mind.

“Then tell me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Logan took a deep breath, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “I was at that hotel, yes, but it had nothing to do with her.” He took a step closer, hands raised in a calming gesture. “My boss, he’s in town for a security conference. He booked a suite there for some meetings, and that’s where we met. I didn’t even know she was staying there, Y/N. And if I had, I would’ve told you.”

Your heart ached as you listened, torn between relief and residual doubt. “But why didn’t you tell me you’d be going somewhere like that?” you asked, the words spilling out, carrying with them the vulnerability you’d tried so hard to hide.

Logan’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I should have. You’re right. I didn’t think twice about it because it was just a meeting. But I never meant to hurt you, and I certainly didn’t mean to give you any reason to doubt us.” His thumb brushed gently along your cheek, his touch grounding you, and you closed your eyes, leaning into his palm.

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re the only one, Y/N. I don’t care who else is around, or what anyone else thinks. It’s you. Always.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, but this time, it was from relief. His sincerity, the warmth in his eyes, and the quiet conviction in his voice slowly chipped away at the walls you’d built up over the course of the day. You let out a shaky breath, nodding as the tension in your shoulders began to dissolve.

“I was scared,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a whisper. “I didn’t want to believe it, but… seeing those pictures…”

Logan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and you buried your face in his chest, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe the ache that had settled in your heart. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I never wanted to put you through that. I should’ve thought it through, should’ve told you exactly where I was.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through damp lashes, a weak smile tugging at your lips. “I guess I’ve just gotten so used to having you here, with me, that even a few hours apart feels… different.”

He smiled softly, his fingers brushing along your cheek as he gazed down at you. “And I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” His voice was steady, and you felt the weight of his words settle over you, anchoring you in a newfound sense of security.

As the evening continued, the doubt that had clouded your mind all day finally began to dissipate, replaced by the reassurance of his presence. You knew there would always be whispers, rumors, and challenges that came with dating someone in the public eye, but standing there in his arms, you realized that together, you could weather anything.

For the rest of the evening, Logan held you close, his touches soft and gentle as if to make up for the strain you’d endured. You knew that while today had shaken you, it had also strengthened your bond, reinforcing the trust that lay at the heart of your relationship.

And as you fell asleep that night, wrapped securely in his arms, you knew that no matter what headlines the world threw your way, you and Logan would face them together, grounded in a love that was real, unwavering, and stronger than any rumor.

As the gentle rise and fall of your breathing softened into an even rhythm, Logan watched you, a small smile tugging at his lips. You looked so peaceful curled up beside him, your face nestled in the crook of his arm, completely unaware of the world—and of the storm of rumors that had swirled around you all day. The day had been rougher than he’d anticipated; the flood of doubt and worry on your face when he’d walked back into the penthouse had hit him harder than he wanted to admit. And now, with you safely sleeping, he wanted to reassure you and everyone else that he wasn’t going anywhere.

As his eyes drifted toward your phone on the nightstand, an idea crossed his mind, one he hadn’t considered before. Logan wasn’t exactly tech-savvy—social media wasn’t his thing—but he had watched you do enough Instagram lives that he thought he could probably figure it out, even if he wasn’t sure why people watched them. Maybe if he said something himself, directly to the people spreading rumors, they’d get the message. He carefully leaned over, stretching for your phone without disturbing you. Punching in the familiar digits of your anniversary date, the screen unlocked, revealing your Instagram feed. The notifications were relentless: messages, comments, and tags, all seemingly tied to today’s hotel incident.

Taking a deep breath, he found the camera icon, hesitating as he checked the lighting. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of your bedside lamp, which cast a warm glow over your face as you slept soundly against his chest. He shifted the camera angle to show you snuggled against him, and after a moment of deliberation, he pressed Go Live.

The screen suddenly transformed, displaying a timer and a small notification telling him people were beginning to join the live stream. His brow furrowed as he stared at the screen, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves he wasn’t used to. Hundreds of comments began to flow in, and he squinted at them, trying to make sense of the tiny, fast-moving text.

“Alright, uh…” he began, his voice low and gruff, though he kept his volume low to avoid waking you. He fumbled for a moment, adjusting the angle so more of his face was visible, along with a glimpse of your peaceful form. “So, yeah… I’m not sure exactly how this works, but I think I’m doing it right. People are watching, right?” He squinted at the screen, realizing there were now thousands of people in the chat.

OMG, is that Logan? Is Y/N asleep?! This is so cute! What’s going on? He’s using her phone?!

“Okay, yeah, I see you guys commenting.” He cleared his throat, glancing down at you to make sure you were still fast asleep. “So… I’m here because there’s been some… well, garbage circulating today about me, and I didn’t want you—any of you—to get the wrong idea.”

He ran a hand over his face, clearly uncomfortable but determined. “Look, I’m not the kind of guy who does this ‘social media’ thing. I leave that up to her because she’s got that… influencer magic touch or whatever.” He let out a small huff, almost laughing at himself. “But there’s one thing I won’t tolerate, and that’s people thinking I’d do anything to hurt her. That’s not happening. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever.”

The comments poured in, filled with everything from declarations of support to playful teasing:

Protective Logan is everything. Never thought I’d see this man on IG live. Logan is going OFF and I’m here for it. Who else is already recording this?

Logan sighed, glancing down at you with an unmistakable softness in his gaze. “She’s everything to me,” he said, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. “I know you all see us together on red carpets or in the news or whatever, but what you don’t see is this.” He adjusted the phone so it framed you perfectly, curled up in his arms, the corners of your lips turned up in a peaceful smile. “This is her. My girl. She’s got the softest heart in the world, and today… today she was hurting because of something stupid. Something that never even happened.”

He paused, as if collecting his thoughts, then let out a breath. “People are saying I’m seeing someone else. They got pictures of me going into some hotel, and yeah, I was there, but it was for a meeting with my boss. That’s it.” He emphasized the words, his eyes narrowing as if daring anyone watching to argue. “She knows now; I explained it to her, and she trusts me. That’s what matters. But just in case any of you want to keep talking about it… remember this.”

The camera shifted slightly as he moved his hand, gently running his fingers through your hair as he looked down at you. “This is the only place I want to be. Right here, with her.”

The comments exploded.

THIS IS THE CONTENT WE DESERVE Is he really doing this while she’s sleeping? Protect them at all costs, pls. Logan, you absolute legend.

Logan squinted again at the comments, clearly struggling to keep up. “There’s… a lot of words on here,” he muttered, looking slightly flustered. “Not sure I get how you guys read all this so fast. Anyway, I just wanted to set the record straight. I’m not seeing anyone else, I’m not cheating on her, and honestly, if you keep saying it… well, I’m not gonna be happy about it. And you don’t want to see me unhappy.”

There was a beat of silence as he scratched his head, visibly uncomfortable but pushing through, clearly determined to make his point. “Look, I don’t care about fame, or fans, or what any of you say about me. I’m here for her. I want to protect her, to take care of her. If any of you really care about her too, then… then don’t buy into this nonsense. Don’t let them tear us apart with stupid rumors.”

Another wave of comments flooded in, and he leaned forward, trying to read a few.

Can we talk about how soft he looks rn? Why is this the cutest thing ever? Logan’s angry rants are kinda romantic?!

“Yeah, yeah, I see some of you making jokes,” he grumbled, though his lips twitched as he read the reactions. “Think I’m soft, huh? Well, maybe I am—maybe I am a little bit soft when it comes to her.” He looked down at you, his features softening again. “She deserves it. She deserves everything.”

He paused, scratching his head again, then sighed in defeat. “Alright, how do I turn this thing off? Seriously, does anyone know?” He squinted at the screen, tapping at random buttons and muttering to himself. “I swear, I’m gonna break this thing if it doesn’t—”

The comments came to his rescue:

Top right, Logan! Hit the ‘X’! Someone help this man before he deletes her whole profile.

“Right, thanks,” he grumbled, following the instructions. “And if any of you save this video or… or make this into some kind of meme, I’m gonna find out. Got it?”

With one final glance at you, Logan ended the livestream, letting out a long exhale as he set the phone down. He looked down at you, his heart swelling with relief and affection as he watched you sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of the emotional monologue he’d just delivered to thousands of fans.

Unbeknownst to him, the livestream was already gaining traction, clips of his soft, protective words flooding the internet. By morning, #LoganProtectsY/N and #SoftLogan were trending, with fans dissecting every second of his heartfelt speech. They praised his loyalty, laughed at his awkward attempts at using Instagram, and swooned over the way he’d looked at you, sleeping in his arms.

But for Logan, all that mattered was knowing that he’d done everything he could to protect you. He’d cleared the air, shut down the rumors, and, hopefully, sent a message to anyone who dared question his commitment.

When you woke up hours later, snuggled in his arms, you had no idea of the viral sensation that had taken place while you slept. Logan greeted you with a quiet kiss, a content smile on his face as if nothing had happened.

It wasn’t until you reached for your phone and saw the thousands of notifications, trending hashtags, and tags of Logan’s accidental “love confession” that you looked up at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

“Logan… what did you do?” you asked, a mix of amusement and surprise in your voice.

He simply shrugged, his expression calm as he held you close. “Just told them the truth.”

It didn’t take long for Logan’s unexpected livestream to become a global sensation. In the days following, clips of his heartfelt speech continued to circulate, with fans clamoring for more of his accidental charm. The two of you were trending for days, fans flooding the comments with supportive messages, heart emojis, and endless excitement over Logan’s protectiveness and gruff sweetness. You couldn’t resist laughing when you saw the #SoftLogan hashtag popping up alongside video edits and reaction memes. And as soon as you showed Logan, his eyes rolled, but his cheeks flushed, a telltale sign that he secretly loved it.

So, when the holiday season rolled around and you suggested going live together—on purpose this time—Logan didn’t put up much of a fight. A Christmas-themed livestream, with baking and festive lights? He pretended to be indifferent, but you could tell he was secretly looking forward to it. The idea of spending the holidays together was already a dream, and now, getting to share a cozy, lighthearted moment with fans made it even better.

And so, a few days before Christmas, the two of you set up in your kitchen. The decorations were up, twinkling lights wrapping around the windows and mistletoe hung strategically above you—an idea Logan had teased you about at first but eventually grew fond of himself. The flour, sugar, butter, and other baking ingredients were all lined up on the counter as you set up your phone on a tripod.

You hit the Go Live button and waited as viewers began flooding in, the comments coming in almost immediately.

OMG they’re back together in a live! Are we getting a SoftLogan Christmas special?! Y/N, girl, blink twice if you’re safe with Logan in the kitchen! Does Logan even know how to bake?!

You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ingredients with a mix of curiosity and mild apprehension. “Alright, everyone,” you began with a grin, addressing the growing audience. “We’re going to attempt to bake Christmas cookies today. And by ‘attempt,’ I mean Logan has promised to help, even though he has very limited experience in the kitchen.”

“Limited?” Logan scoffed, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow at you. “I’m not that bad.”

“You burn toast,” you shot back, laughing. “So, yes, we’re going to attempt baking Christmas cookies, and I can already tell this is going to be… interesting.”

The comments were rolling in faster than you could read them:

Logan is definitely the guy who thinks ‘preheating’ is optional. We love to see Y/N dragging him; the dynamic is everything! CAN WE PLEASE SEE LOGAN IN A SANTA APRON?!

You grinned at the last comment and nudged Logan. “The fans want to know if you’re willing to wear the Santa apron.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but you noticed the small smile on his lips. “No way am I wearing an apron with Santa on it,” he protested, but he reached for it, putting it on with exaggerated reluctance. “Only because it’s Christmas,” he muttered, the red apron looking unexpectedly charming on him.

As you got started, Logan reached for the flour, spilling an unnecessary amount onto the counter in his attempt to pour it into the mixing bowl. You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you tried to rein in his enthusiasm.

“Logan! We only need a cup of flour, not the entire bag,” you teased, wiping some of the flour off the counter.

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Can’t make cookies without flour. I’m just… being thorough.”

You shook your head, adjusting the camera slightly to catch both of you as you attempted to salvage the flour situation. Your fans were in hysterics in the comments:

We love a man who’s thorough, Y/N! Does Logan think flour is the only ingredient?! Imagine calling this thoroughness ‘baking skills.’

“Next is sugar,” you continued, holding the measuring cup out. “And we need half a cup, half, Logan. Not ‘one heaping mountain,’ just half.”

He gave you a look of pure innocence, his hand hovering over the sugar as he tried to pour it carefully. But his definition of “half” was still far more than necessary, and you bit back laughter, shaking your head. “We’re making cookies, not cement, Logan!”

Logan chuckled, a soft laugh that brought a twinkle to his eye. “Look, this is harder than it looks, alright? You just tell me what to do, and I’ll follow.”

You shot him a skeptical look but continued with the instructions, going step-by-step as he did his best to keep up. Between his overly generous measurements and your frequent corrections, the kitchen was quickly filled with laughter and playful banter.

When it came time to roll out the dough, Logan took the rolling pin in his hands, looking at it like it was an alien object. “How hard can this be?” he muttered, pressing down on the dough with way too much force, causing it to stick to the counter and flatten beyond recognition.

“Logan!” you cried out, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. “You’re supposed to be gentle with it, like… like when you’re putting your arm around me or something.”

“Oh, like that,” he said, his tone teasing. He softened his touch, rolling the dough more delicately, though it was still sticking in awkward patches. You tried to help him, guiding his hands, and by the end, the two of you were a flour-covered, laughing mess.

“Okay, now we’re going to use these cookie cutters,” you said, holding up a few shapes: a snowman, a reindeer, and a Christmas tree. “Pick your favorite.”

“Easy.” Logan grabbed the reindeer cutter, pressing it into the dough and proudly holding it up. “Reindeer cookies it is.”

The two of you cut out the rest of the shapes, arranging them on the baking sheet and finally putting them in the oven. As the cookies baked, you read through more fan comments, laughing with Logan at the endless string of humorous observations and questions.

Please tell me Logan won’t be in charge of frosting. This man is dangerously close to ruining Christmas cookies. But seriously, they look so cute together. I’m calling it now: Logan doesn’t even know how to use an oven timer.

Logan furrowed his brows at the last comment. “Wait, we need a timer?”

“Logan!” You let out a laugh, immediately setting the timer yourself. “Yes, we need a timer. Otherwise, we’ll just have burnt reindeer shapes instead of cookies.”

When the timer finally went off, you took the cookies out, laughing together over the misshapen but somehow adorable treats. The two of you set about decorating, Logan’s hands steady but not quite precise as he attempted to pipe frosting on a reindeer. The result was… less than impressive, and you both burst out laughing at his attempt.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment as the fans commented enthusiastically.

Logan’s reindeer is questionable, but we stan his effort. I’d still eat it! Best rom-com scene ever.

Finally, with the cookies decorated, you turned back to the camera, holding up a plate of your (very creatively decorated) creations. “Well, here you have it, folks. Our version of Christmas cookies! We may not be experts, but we had fun, right, Logan?”

“More fun than I expected,” he admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Thanks for making me do this.”

You smiled up at him, and for a moment, you forgot all about the livestream. That was, until the comments started rolling in faster than ever:

OMG did he just look at her like that?! THE SOFT LOOK, I CAN’T. Guys, please tell me you saw that too. He’s going to propose. He has to.

Logan read the comments, his face shifting to something both nervous and determined. He glanced at you, taking a deep breath as he reached into his pocket, fingers grazing over something small and shiny. You looked at him, curious, as he took your hands in his.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice suddenly a little rough. “These last few months… they’ve been everything to me. I didn’t think I’d ever be the guy doing Christmas cookie livestreams or… any of this social media stuff. But I’d do it every day for you.”

Your heart was pounding as he knelt down on one knee, pulling a ring box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a beautiful, sparkling ring.

The comments erupted into chaos, but you barely noticed, your focus entirely on him as he held your gaze.

“I don’t know if this is the way you imagined it, but…” he smiled, that soft smile that had become your favorite. “Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You threw your arms around him, laughing through the tears as you whispered a quiet, “Yes.”

The fans went wild, and Logan chuckled, holding you close as you realized that the whole world had just witnessed your engagement. But in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were in his arms, right where you belonged. And as he slipped the ring onto your finger, both of you covered in flour and frosting, you couldn’t have imagined a more perfect, hilariously romantic proposal.

The comments from fans cheering and congratulating the two of you were endless, but Logan just looked at you, a gentle pride in his eyes as he whispered, “Merry Christmas, love.”

it's November so it's basically Christmas I don't make the rules I'm sorry, maybe at December I could start a new game where you can request any type of fanfics set in Christmas? Or something like that? let me know in the comments If you have other ideas! <3

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

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angelasscribbles · 3 days ago

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Crush: A Bad Romance One-Shot

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Max, Riley x Drake, Riley x Liam with tiny hints of Liam x Max

Rating: Fluffy

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: 3,274

Thanks to @kyra75 for this ask for the "secret admirer" prompt for the @choicesprompts 2024 Flufftober event. This is my late submission.

A/N: This is a prequel because we already know what happens during Bad Romance so it doesn't fit there. I could have placed it after but I would have had to either bring in a new person which I didn't want to do or go the predictable route of it turning out to be the person's partner all along. Instead, I decided to place it before the events of Bad Romance, and here's why: I've written next to nothing about Riley's first few months in Cordonia but Bad Romance does state that Liam had to work his butt off to pry Riley's attention away from Max during that time. In fact, Liam mentions it often because he's still salty about it. Max mentions it too because he did eventually get dumped for Liam. I thought this was a perfect place to show some of that. I know it's a little angsty, but I hope it's got enough fluff to satisfy the requirement.

To reiterate: This takes place in the first month of Riley being in Cordonia, while she is sleeping with Max, Liam is trying to change that and Drake is trying to pretend he doesn't like her like that.

My other stuff: Master List.

For the life of me, I cannot remember if someone sent me this image or if I stumbled across it myself. It's been in my save folder for awhile. I'd like to give proper credit, so if you sent it to me, speak up!

Riley entered her room and stopped to smell the roses. The two dozen red roses to be exact. They had been delivered to her room earlier. She closed her eyes as the sweet floral scent washed over her.

The smell was sublime.

She opened her eyes to admire the blood red petals. Her fingers gently stroked a lush bloom, her expression contemplative as her mind whirled.

She turned her head to observe the man who had entered the room with her. “You’re sure they’re not from you?”

“Yes, Riley, I’m sure,” Max admittedly a little reluctantly.

“Any ideas who they might be from?”

He shrugged dismissively. “Could be anyone, really. You have many admirers at court. I’m not surprised one of them decided to shoot his shot.” Hana’s face flashed before his eyes. “Or hers.”

She fluttered her lashes at him. “Does that bother you?”

Max shook his head, and then gave her that boyish grin that always made her heart flutter. “How can I blame them? You’re the total package, babe.”

“You sweet talker.” Riley grinned at him as she strode across the room to pinch his cheeks.

Despite the fact that they were sleeping together, the simple sign of affection from her caused heat to flame across his face. He studied the toe of his shoe as he told her, “You deserve flowers. I should have thought to send you some.”

“Hey,” she put a finger under his chin and lifted his head. “The roses are lovely, but you do sweet things for me all the time. I’m very happy with our little…. Arrangement.”

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips softly across his. “We’re staying in tonight, right?”

They were in between royal events for the next week and while eating in the main dining hall was always an option, Max had suggested room service and a movie marathon in her room instead.

Riley had agreed because frankly, she was sick of Madeleine’s shit. Eating with all the bitchy divas of the nobility was not her idea of fun. Drake avoided her like the plague ever since their encounter on the plane ride over, and Liam rarely made appearances in the public dining hall in between official royal events.

Not that she was interested in him. Their night in New York aside, she knew he would never choose a waitress to be queen. He couldn’t. So, she had found other diversions.

She could certainly do a lot worse than Maxwell Beaumont.

“Right,” Max agreed, as a shiver ran down his spine at her touch. “I had the kitchen make your favorite dinner.”

“See?” she purred. “That’s what I mean about how thoughtful you are.”

“Let’s meet back here at dinnertime, okay?” He stepped away from her and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.” He gave her a mischievous grin as he exited the room.

“Okay then.” With a furrowed brow, she returned her attention to the roses. After a brief moment of consideration, her decision was made.

She might not know why Max was acting weird all of a sudden, but she had enough time before dinner to do a little investigation into her secret admirer.

****

“I’m coming!” Drake yelled in irritation.

Who the fuck was knocking on his door in the middle of the afternoon on his day off?

“Can’t get any peace and quiet ever.” He muttered under his breath as he yanked the door open. “What?”

His eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. “Riley! What are you doing here?” His eyes darted frantically up and down the hallway. This girl was a scandal waiting to happen.

“Was it you?”

“Was what me?”

“The flowers. Were they from you?” Her gaze bore into him with laser intensity.

His forehead creased as he tried to make sense of the conversation. “Flowers?”

Her eyes scanned his face, then she shook her head. “Of course not.”

His brain finally caught up. “Someone sent you flowers?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Weren’t they from your boyfriend?”

Was that a note of bitterness she detected? She smiled from ear to ear as her body swayed slightly back and forth. “What boyfriend would that be?”

His face fixed in a scowl, he grunted, “Max.”

She bit into her lower lip as she leaned forward and ran a hand up his arm. “Are you jealous of Max?”

His arms crossed defensively over his chest as he took a step back. “No!”

“Sure, you’re not. But someone sent me two dozen roses, and it wasn’t Max. Any ideas who it could have been?”

Drake blew out a resigned sigh. Of fucking course he knew who it was. Who else would it be? But he wasn’t telling her that.

While he wasn’t going to stand in Liam’s way, he sure as hell wasn’t going to help him. Instead, he shrugged with what he hoped was nonchalance as he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay. Bye then.” She spun on her heel and started back down the hallway.

“Riley, wait!” He stumbled out the door into the hallway, ready to sprint after her.

She stopped and turned back with arched eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I…” All the reasons he should not and could not pursue this woman poured through his mind as he stood frozen in the middle of the corridor.

“Well?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Hm. Well, if it’s ever something, you know where my room is.” She wiggled her fingers at him before spinning to leave again.

He watched her go as frustration and regret danced through his chest.

****

Riley questioned several guards and a couple of butlers, but no one knew anything.

She was on her way back to her room when she bumped right into Liam. She found herself tangled in his embrace, laughter rumbling through him as he caught her. “Whoa there! Where’s the fire?”

“Liam!” She made no move to extract herself from his arms. Instead, she smiled up at him. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.”

“I see that!” He stared down at her with a sappy grin for several long seconds before remembering himself. He cleared his throat as he stepped away from her. “Were you on your way to the dining hall?”

“No, my room, actually.”

“I hope everything is okay.”

She gave him a bright smile as she leaned in and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Everything is fine. I just can’t take another dinner with those fucking harpies.”

Liam threw his head back and laughed. Yes, it was a scandalous remark, but he found her honesty refreshing. He found everything about her refreshing, not to mention alluring. He moved closer to her to whisper, “Why do you think I never eat in the public dining hall?”

It was her turn to laugh. “Oh, my! What an unprincely thing to say!”

“You seem to bring out that side of me.” His tone suddenly serious, he blurted, “Have dinner with me tonight? In my private dining room?”

“I’d love to, but I already have plans for tonight.”

“Oh. I thought you said you were having dinner in your roo—”

“Yes, we are.”

His shoulders slumped. “I see.”

“Tomorrow?”

His head snapped up. “You’ll have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“That’s…. not exactly the response I was hoping for—”

“I mean, if you’d rather not—”

“No! No… I mean yes! I mean… I definitely want to have dinner with you, Riley. Tomorrow night it is.”

“Great. Just text me the time.”

He immediately whipped out his phone and sent her a text.

She rewarded him with a seductive smirk. “That was quick.”

“He who hesitates is lost.”

“I would have said you snooze, you lose. But that works too.”

“I don’t intend to lose.”

“Lose what?”

His voice was unusually low and quiet as he returned the phone to his pocket. “You, Riley.”

Riley Brooks was seldom taken aback by anything a man said, but that did the trick. “What?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten our night in New York so easily.”

“Of course, not. I just didn’t think—”

“Did you like the roses? They’re from my mother’s garden.”

“That was you?”

“Yes.”

“But…why?”

“Why?” He looked at her with his mouth agape. Glancing around quickly to ensure they were still alone in the hallway; he reached for her and yanked her body to his. Lowering his lips to her ear, he murmured, “I know you think New York was just about sex and that a prince would never marry a waitress, but you’re wrong, Riley. Dead wrong. On both counts.”

She pulled back to search his onyx eyes with her emerald ones. She couldn’t help the skepticism in her voice. “Really?”

“Yes, really! What do I have to do to convince you of that?”

“I don’t know, Liam. But it’s going to take more than a few roses.”

Gifts were not about to win her over. Sure, she had come from poverty, but he hadn’t. Material things were easy for him to come by and easy for him to part with. Simply spending money on her only convinced her that he wanted to sleep with her.

While sex with the smoking hot prince was something she was more than willing to engage in, she refused to let her heart get involved when she already knew disappointment was waiting at the end.

No matter what he said, he was never going to marry her. He wasn’t in love with her. He was in lust with her and that was something she was familiar with, something she could roll with. But she would not be tricked into letting her feelings get involved.

If he expected her to fall in love, he was going to have to invest a lot more than just money. That was too easy. She refused to be merely one more victim in the trail of broken hearts he’d left behind him.

Liam watched her walk away with a myriad of emotions crashing through him. If she wanted him to work harder to get her attention, he would do that. He knew she liked him. The night in New York had proven that. But since her arrival in Cordonia, she had frozen him out. Were her plans tonight with Max? What the fuck did she see in Max that she didn’t see in him? It was frustrating, galling, and, if he were being honest with himself, a little thrilling. He did love a good challenge.

***

Riley let herself back into her room to a stupendous surprise. The two dozen red roses still graced the console table near the entry, but every other available surface, save the bed, was now covered in vases brimming with all manner of blue flowers. Deep blue roses, baby blue hydrangeas, several shades of carnations, and blue and white morning glories, among others, were spread across the tops of the dresser, the end tables, and the vanity.

She gasped as she turned circles, taking it all in. “Max! What is this?”

“Ah…” pink flamed across his cheeks. “I know red roses are romantic and all, but I also know blue is your favorite color, so I took a chance that you might like them.”

“Like them? Max, I love them! But you didn’t have to do all this just because Liam sent me flowers.”

“It was Liam?” His heart sank.

He felt pretty confident about his chances of competing against most of the men at court. But Liam was another story entirely. Of course, she would want Liam. Hell, he wanted Liam, so he certainly couldn’t blame her.

Maybe now was the time to tell her that his feelings for her were real. That it was more than just fun and games for him. “Riley, I—”

There was a knock on the door.

“Hold that thought,” she told him as she strode across the room to answer it.

She pulled the door open to find Drake standing in the hallway. Her face lit up with surprised delight. “Hey, handsome! Did you finally decide on something?”

“I…ah... wanted to talk—” his words cut off mid-sentence as Max appeared in the doorway behind her. A storm raged across his face. “You know what? Never mind. I shouldn’t have—”

“Drake? What are you doing here?”

All three heads turned toward the new voice.

Drake’s brain spun frantically, trying to find a reasonable explanation for his presence. “Ah, I noticed they were missing from the dining hall and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Liam’s shoulders relaxed. He had asked Drake to keep an eye on her for him. To personally ensure her safety.

“What are you doing here?” Riley directed her question to Liam.

“I needed to change the time of our date tomorrow night.”

Max stiffened. Drake inspected the casing around the doorframe.

“You couldn’t have texted me that?”

“I could have…” that sparkle that she remembered from New York was back in his eyes. “But I wanted to see you in person.”

“Hm.” She smiled as her finger tapped her lips. “Well, since you’re both here, would you like to come in and join us? We were going to have dinner sent up and have a movie marathon.”

Drake looked skeptically from her to Liam to Max. “I don’t know if we should—”

“I’d love to!” Liam swept into the room with satisfaction radiating from every pore of his body. He pushed past a dismayed Max.

That satisfaction evaporated as he took in the scene in front of him. “That’s a lot of blue flowers.”

Max perked up as his arm went around Riley’s shoulder. “Blue is her favorite color, so I thought she might like some to offset all that red.”

“Yes, I get it. You had to go big after copying my idea.”

“I—” Max’s reply was cut off by Riley’s hand on his chest. “No fighting, boys. We’re going to watch movies and have fun tonight.” Turning back toward Drake, she motioned for him to come in. “Are you going to stand in the hallway or are you going to get in here and help me make sure these two behave?”

Drake hesitated only a second or two.

What could it hurt?

He glanced around at the room full of flowers. Two dozen of Cordonia’s finest red roses, straight from the crown’s own garden shimmered in the waning daylight. At least a dozen vases of flowers turned the room into a shimmering ocean of blue. The younger son of one of Cordonia’s noblest houses and the crown prince himself at a standoff over her attentions, and still she wanted him there. That meant something, right?

Not that he was interested in her. If Liam got his way, and Liam usually did, she was going to be the next queen and his best friend’s wife. Both of those things put her firmly off limits to him, no matter how much she inflamed his desires, haunted his dreams, and bedeviled his waking hours.

Still. What could it hurt to watch a couple of movies with her and two of his oldest friends? It was really Liam and Max he was staying for. To make sure they didn’t fight over her too much. Yeah, that’s why he was staying.

Riley leaned over and whispered into Max’s ear. His scowl was replaced with a flushed face and a broad grin. He nodded as he pulled his phone from his pocket and started swiping. His eyes flicked up long enough to say, “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll have the kitchen send up more food.”

Drake took the lounge chair next to the bed just as Riley climbed up and settled herself in the middle of the bed. She patted the space on either side of her. “Who wants to join me?”

Before Drake could react, Liam was in the closest spot and Max had hurled himself onto the bed, clambering over two sets of legs to claim the other side. With a disgruntled shake of his head, he thumped back into the chair.

This had been a bad idea.

But it hadn’t been a bad idea. His misgivings were soon put to rest as they all balanced their dinner plates on their laps and got completely and inexplicably sucked into Barbie.

Not a movie he would have picked, but as it turned out, it was not a kid’s movie at all. The existential angst, the clever humor, the insightfulness, and the adventure had him forgetting the awkwardness of the situation and laughing along with his friends at the onscreen antics. He was relaxed and actually enjoying his night off.

Max had pushed aside his insecurities about Liam, choosing to focus, instead, on the promises Riley had whispered in his ear about the rewards he’d receive later for being a good boy and playing nice with everyone. His eyes kept sliding sidewise to gauge her reactions to the movie. He wanted to share all of them with her…. every laugh, every gasp, every moment. Not just of the movie, he realized, but for the rest of his life.

His gaze flicked briefly to the man on her other side. He knew Liam was still an obstacle, but he had infinite amounts of patience and faith, deep in his heart, that everything would work out in the end.

Liam didn’t miss the sidelong glances Max was throwing at both him and Riley. He couldn’t say he was completely oblivious to Max’s charms, but he was nothing if not persistent.

She didn’t trust him yet. That was fine. He would prove to her that she could. She needed him to put in work, and he would do that. He had yet to set his mind to any task that he couldn’t master. He just needed to try harder, be smarter, and focus deeper. Winning her heart would be worth it. He knew to the very core of his being that they belonged together.

Long after the dishes had been cleared, and the night had deepened, Riley lay with her head on Liam’s shoulder, drifting off as the credits for the latest Ghostbusters movie rolled. Max was curled up against her on her other side, one arm slung over her waist as Liam’s fingers gently combed through her hair. The sound of Drake’s soft snoring drifted through the room.

She should probably wake everyone and tell them to go sleep in their own beds. That would be far more comfortable, especially for Drake, who was dozing in a chair. But the warmth emanating from the men on either side of her, combined with the softness of the bed and the darkness of the room, lulled her into a contented coziness that she was loathe to break.

The quiet hum of the air conditioning filled the room as the TV clicked off, sealing her decision as she let herself drift off to sleep surrounded by the sounds, scents, and warmth of the three men who had commanded all her attention for the last month.

For the moment, none of them were fighting each other or her. Their earlier laughter still rang in her ears. For tonight, things were peaceful, calm, and happy, and not a single one of them wanted to do anything to disrupt that.

Liam was the last one left awake. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Good night, Riley.” Before closing his eyes and slipping into a contented slumber of his own.

#angelasscribbles #the royal romance #trr #the royal romance fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices prompts #flufftober2024 #flufftober 2024 #one shot #choices stories you play #choices #drake walker #liam rys #maxwell beaumont #riley brooks

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magiclwritings · 13 hours ago

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It felt as if he'd slipped in between realities because the conversations happening in front of him truly couldn't be. While Cesare knew this was all apart of their lives but it hurt to hear Max saying that. Still on the mend and out of his own country just added insult to injury and Cesare leaned forward to offer his hand to him, knowing full and well that it wasn't anything but a sign of understanding.

"While both of you are right." The king interjected, sending Cesare to clasp onto Quin's hand instead. He felt the reflex to push him off but he held on tighter. "Quintus and Cesare are already betrothed to one another." His eyes darted between his son and the prince expectantly. "They announced it upon their arrival and unless I'm not privy to some sort of discussion on that being changed. It still stands." Cesare swallowed hard and his fingers flexed around Quin's, the heat between them creating a comfortable feel and he felt himself leaning towards him in turn. "I'll take that as a no. Then we've already a foot in the right direction." He breathed out and looked to Max then. "I know I'm not the right man to be discussing this with you or even have a right to but I knew your father well. He was a dear friend to me as you are to my son."

Cesare felt the room shift just then for him. His father rarely opened up or spoke softly to anyone but his mother and him. It was something he'd admired, how he could always hold his role of King separate when the time was needed for it. "Both of your parents would want the two of you to be happy. And I for one agree with them. I wish the very same for Cesare." He sighed and looked at the three of them. "I'm afraid this world will be extra hard on you but if you are going to marry, all of you then let it be for the right reasons." He paused, smiling softy to himself for a moment. "The selection of a partner is one thing but to marry and have bliss? That will be the true tell of how powerful a ruler you will be. Your parents are great examples of that." He tried his best to not let it show but he felt the tears welling at the sight of their future before him. "So please take your time in choosing. For you choose for a whole country as well. You two will always be welcomed guests in this country and my home." He raised his hand, waiving for his hand to come to him. He'd whispered briefly in the man's ear and sent him on out of the room.

The cool breeze of the door closing again sent a chill down Cesare's spine and he tore his gaze from his father and to Max and then Quin. "I made the right choice." He told him boldly, turning in his chair until their knees met. He wished they hadn't just dragged him out of the bowls of hell and away from that man but he needed Quin to know. "I have loved you for a long time." He could see Max moving in the background but had to block him out because saying this had to be done right then. "I want your home to be here. With me." He felt his lips pulling into a small smile at that. "I can't undo what's been done but I can make sure that the rest of your life is full and you'll never be left wanting for anything." His lips pressed together and he felt the rest of the room looking at them but all he cared about were the two in front of his own. "But only if that's what you want Quintus."

Quintus’ eyes did not leave his lap even as Cesare argued a different viewpoint from his father’s. Whatever he felt didn’t matter. It came down to the two Kings to decide what route to take. He knew his brother wasn’t ready to go back to Vivec but that he would if he felt they were no longer welcomed in Adros. He knew Cesare would fight his father tooth and nail to keep both brothers within his grasp, and Quin was just there to exist in the middle.

Cesare’s idea had merit. Quin was impressed. It was the best of both worlds. The brothers could stay in Vivec and train while sending messages to their council to find out who was on which side. When they were ready, a tour was the best way to go. It would allow the people of Vivec and the individual town council members to meet with Max. It was a way to gather and sway support while also having a fallback, and at the end of it, once they knew they were strong enough, the brothers would storm the castle and reclaim their namesake.

Maximus did not speak immediately, but Quintus could feel his brother’s gaze, waiting for him to comment. When Quin purposely remained quiet, Max elbowed him in the ribs. “This is Quin’s area of expertise. Before I decide, I wish to hear him speak about it. Quin?”

And he couldn’t ignore an order even if it was posed as a question, not in front of Cesare’s father. “If we head back to Vivec now, it’ll be suicide,” He said softly, lifting his gaze to the King. “While I know we have supporters back home, we don’t know who. We don’t know who will willingly stand with us to fight for your throne and who won’t. Just because they want Maximus on the throne doesn’t mean they will help us achieve that. A tour will be the easiest way to gather allies, but first, we must train and build our stamina back up. Doing that here will be the best option. If Maximus returns home walking with a cane, the council will view him as weak. However, until we know differently, we must assume that no one is on our side. For all we know, our uncle has been working on turning members of our court since before our parents were murdered.”

Quin sucked in a deep breath, turning to Maximus. “It would also be best if you returned engaged or even already married; we can announce it during our tour through the country. Uncle isn’t married; he won’t marry, so you’ll make you a more desirable fit for the throne. The security of an heir is something he cannot and won’t compete with. But we will have to scout eligible women from Vivec, maybe bring them here and host them to see who the best option is.” He saw Max’s lips turn down into a frown. “We don’t have the luxury of time, Maximus. If we can make you a better fit for the throne than uncle, we must take it. You and I both know he won’t marry or produce an heir. You will. Take this advantage.”

“What about you?” Max snapped back, brow raised. He looked pointedly from Quintus to Cesare to the King and then back to Quin. “Don’t tell me a marriage for you wouldn’t add the same benefit for us if you were to marry into another country who will support us that’ll make you look good to the whole of Vivec. Wouldn’t that be another advantage we should take? You know I am not married yet because I want to marry for love and not convenience. Think about what you’re asking me to do. If you won’t do the same, it’s off the table.”

He tightened his fingers into a fist and shook his head. “I do not bring this up lightly. I know what this will cost you, and I am sorry it does not fit into your perfect plan, but you and I are not the same, and it does not serve you well to consider us on the same level. Yes, if I were to enter into a marriage with an allied country behind me, that would work in our favor, but it does not give us as much favor as your marriage would. You will sit on the throne, not me.” He looked to the others around the room, his brow raised. “Please speak on this if you feel I’m wrong.” He wasn’t. The looks on all of their faces said enough. Then Quintus turned back to his brother. “Order me to do it as well if you must, but make sure that is an order you can live with.”

The brothers stared at each other for what felt like forever. For a moment, Quintus feared that his brother would enforce the order out of spite. But then Maximus blew out a puff of air and crossed his arms over his chest, sinking against the back of his chair in defeat. “No,” He said softly, squeezing Quin’s arm. “I’m sorry, Q. I understand I am held to different standards than you are. I will not ask you to do that for me. I promised to protect you from that, and I will stand by that promise.” Then he turned to the King, offering the man a small smile. “We would be grateful if you would house us for a little longer. I swear to replace the resources you expend on us tenfold when I reclaim Vivec.” Then he turned to Quin, “I hear your words, brother. I will put serious effort into finding a suitable wife for myself.”

#Looking out for you;#Quintus;#Maximus;

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 2 months ago

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s4 episode 5 thoughts

i’m back. i’m back and i’m intrigued. because i'm reading the episode description, and if we get more mulder ex lore here, which the episode description makes it sound like we will, i am… not sure how i will feel on the subject. the term “reincarnation” makes it sound like whoever it was… died. did an ex of his die? and that is a lot of mulder marked by pain and suffering. and maybe i’m getting ahead of myself. but the writers KNOW we want our agents to smooch, so focusing on an ex might make me, the viewer, feel weird. i just need to get all these thoughts out in writing before we begin.

how is he gonna tell if someone is a reincarnated lover? or am i misunderstanding this entirely.

only one way to find out

author’s note: oh my gosh…… nothing could have prepared me for this. at all. here i was thinking it was ex lore time, but it was past life time, and there are TEARS in my eyes.

(serious author's note: i ask for some grace in this episode recap. there may be some things i word poorly. i am familiar with the terminology used to describe DID, and did my best, but acknowledge that i may have come up short. please understand that this is intended to capture my live reactions to what i was seeing for the very first time. at times here, there are no reactions, just a sort of a nebulous recapping of what i saw because i was feeling So Many Things. so this one might be messy, and i hope that is okay. i don't understand what i am feeling, but i am feeling a Lot of it, and humbly ask for your patience in my clumsy wording as well as some helpful discussion on what just went down)

let us begin, i type as i sniff up some tears

we open with mulder in a field… is he reciting poetry? and looking very sad.

wait, is he not actually reciting poetry and he just talks like that? while holding two pictures of old timey people. i’d guess civil war era.

okay. so now we jump right to the intro. that was quick. i’m still processing what we just saw because we were really dropped into that one with no context whatsoever.

federal agents break into a temple in tennessee. they’re looking for illegal firearms! and a guy named ephesian.

but mulder sees a window… and he is staring at it… walking out the door as if led by some sort of spiritual quest while scully yells his name and wonders wtf he’s doing. he is not responding to her at all, but she’s chasing after him because she is a good friend.

so he’s hearing things while scully is pulling her gun out, and it does appear that he found a trapdoor!

he busts in, and slaps some poison out of the hand of a woman who was taking sips, and then grabs the dude who i assume is the cult leader. whew… that was close

now they’re at some sort of meeting, listening to tapes, and skinner is here!!! hiiii skinner. everybody say hi skinner!

so, someone on the tape seems to be whistleblowing on this cult- the seven stars or something- saying that the leader is hurting children and stockpiling weapons. mulder looks incredibly pensive during all of this.

oh! someone refers to mulder as “our man spooky”, which is kind of hilarious, while complaining that the reports were weak. scully leans in and asks yeah, how did he know that? while the men are fighting.

and skinner yells KNOCK IT OFF!!!! because the folks at the compound were somehow able to hide all the evidence before they got there, and now they’re forced to hold ephesian and “his wives” on “BS charges”. so now the agents MUST find evidence of firearms and who the informant was NOW because they will try to get an arraignment fast.

woah. no pressure.

skinner comes over talk to mulder and scully- they must look into this ephesian fellow's claims of supernatural abilities. scully says he can use the book of revelations to manipulate his followers, but seems to suspect no real powers.

they to talk to this ephesian fellow, who says he knew for 9 centuries that scully was coming, and starts going on about the bible, quoting stuff. very scary behavior.

mulder comes in with the fact check. jesus said that at smyrna, not about some church in tennessee! (his knowledge…. it always impresses me)

this dude is being super creepy, telling them to put aside their investigation “for your own souls”, because soon all unfaithful shall “be destroyed by God’s mighty men”. so this is some pretty standard cult rhetoric here. if you've studied religions, you've heard this one many times. it seems that ephesian thinks he and his people shall be the ones doing this violence. a tight zoom in on mulder’s troubled face as he quotes more scripture.

they have 6 wives to question, and mulder says to start with one in particular. interesting… i wonder why that one. is it because she was the one they caught ephesian with in the hidden area... or something more?

her name is melissa, and she says she’s 25 as she smokes a cigarette and dodges their questions. she’s been at the compound and married to ephesian for a year.

mulder asks if it troubles her that ephesian has so many other wives, and she just recites scripture instead of answering. so scully comes in with the “i’d have a tough time if my husband had so many children with other women”. this seems to begin to get her to crack, as she tears up.

wait... it’s so wrong to hear scully call someone else, who isn't her sister, melissa :(

melissa she doesn’t have any children with ephesian yet... because he has to wait for God to tell him that the right soul is ready to be reincarnated, which is why his children are the most sacred members of the temple. naturally, of course /s

things get quiet when they ask if he had been hurting the children until melissa starts talking with a very different voice and set of mannerisms, and she no longer replies to the name melissa. so scully scrawls “multiple personality” in her loopy handwriting and passes it over to mulder. oh! is this sydney?

(at this point, i shall begin to refer to sydney with he/him pronouns, as this is what mulder does. normally i would stick to my journalistic integrity and keep reporting the things i wrote down incorrectly while watching the episode, but i'm trying to be very respectful- i hope you understand)

but mulder writes back to scully no, this is not a multiple personality case, it's a past life case! his handwriting is very blocky. to prove his point, he asks sydney who the current president is, and he responds that it is harry truman. ah. so, he's a few years off.

mulder claims that “somehow he just knew” sydney was melissa's past life, which doesn’t reveal a lot, but his eyes are very soulful and i want to hold his hand.

skinner says they need to find something to get this case moving forward, and mulder is like dude, we found sydney, the voice matched! i would agree with his judgement that this in fact a sizeable discovery.

mulder is saying that what they have seen matches the criteria of DID in the DSM4 (woah, need to look up when we switched to 5), but scully is saying that some people don’t even think it exists as a condition, and skinner thinks it could be a trap to buy more time for ephesian. so no one is in agreement here.

but mulder is going into his psychology expert mode and is making a very compelling case that this is an example of DID, particularly in the fact that sydney emerged when the topic of child abuse came up, which fulfilled the protector role. scully wants to know more before giving any sort of diagnosis, but she doesn't seem opposed to the hypothesis.

(skinner seems to fumble over which pronouns to use for each personality here)

skinner says to go ahead and take her back to the compound and see if it gets any results in prompting memories that could be useful to the investigation, but scully is mad at mulder! he didn’t even have the courage to tell skinner he thinks they're dealing with past lives here! mulder, who is usually so brave!!

he mumbles that skinner wouldn’t believe him. which is true.

woah, i don’t know how to interpret this line here, so i’ll just write it down for further analysis:

“i don’t believe that you feel responsible for those 50 lives. or melissa reidel. you are only responsible to yourself, mulder”

(is she saying he doesn’t care about those 50 people?? is she saying he has an ulterior motive? is she calling him a liar, and that he is using this case to gain support for his supernatural ideas?? is she calling him selfish? or is she trying to tell him that he can only be responsible for himself and control his own actions, that he cannot place the burden of saving everyone upon his shoulders? is she berating or reassuring him or both? does she think he isn't serious about the lives in danger?)

i can’t figure it out, but he gets up and leaves. (after watching the episode, i still can't figure it out- what did you think?)

so they take melissa back to the temple, and scully asks her to recall the painful memories so they can keep herself and others safe. it is very tense as she walks into a bedroom and sees many photos on the wall of ephesian and his wives. she knocks some of them over and starts crying.

scully still looks furious with mulder. it's as if she thinks his desire for supernatural entities to be proven comes ahead of his desire to save actual lives, and it's recalling her comparison to ahab during the conversation on the rock. she must feel that there is no time for this, that they need to get concrete answers right away or horrible things will happen; perhaps she thinks he isn't focused, is being fanciful. and i understand the pressure of a ticking clock, but after so long, this rift between them, it doesn't feel right.

oh my goodness, we see some horrific artwork on the wall by the kids at the temple. woah. shoutout to the set design team.

melissa is in the playroom sobbing, but asks why she is being called melissa. scully asks what she should call her, and that is how we meet lily. but lily isn’t there for very long before sydney comes back, saying to “leave the kid alone”. mulder says they can all be safe if they just are told where the guns are. then melissa seems to come back, and she goes back out the window where mulder was staring earlier!!! what does this window know?!?

and the score here is really pretty as she walks outside, scully following behind her. mulder is clearly unwell, though, and scully asks what is wrong, which he ignores and walks past her. typical him.

a new alter of melissa's seems to front, now with a southern accent, saying the guns are in a bunker. but… it’s the civil war she’s talking about. she was a nurse, looking for someone who was staying in tennessee. and she found that someone here, dead. then she was hidden in a bunker while the battle raged above her. it is very horrific, what she is describing.

she clarifies that she was there in november 1863, then turns to mulder and says “as were you”. he doesn’t seem shocked by this, but scully is, as this new southern belle proclaims “this is the field where i watched you die” OH!

(mulder, a confederate in a past life… this is deeply unfortunate)

mulder is trying to make a phone call to a hypnotist while they drive melissa back to the police station, but scully figures out he’s trying to do past life regression on her and says not to. and that her life is in shreds, and that is too much for her to handle. i hate to say it, but i agree with her. melissa has been through so much, and with such a tight deadline, i don't know if they have time for such a journey.

OH! mulder is angry. his voice is all growly as he yells “YOU WERE THERE, SCULLY! you saw it, you heard it, why can’t you feel it?” oh my gosh… the way he slammed his hand on the wheel... why can't she see it, it seems so obvious to him... how infuriating it must be...

scully asks why ephesian is a paranoid sociopath for claiming to be in greece years ago, but he isn’t for claiming to have died in that field……. damn…….

(idk what’s going on here between them exactly but i’m stressed. they are stressing me out)

(at this point, we begin a sequence in which i am so enraptured with what is going on, i have no reactions to all of the things i am seeing, and just recount them to you, with occasional interjections of "oh my god"- but i think if you've seen the episode, you get why it had this effect on me)

so they do get a therapist, who is talking to melissa. she begins to answer the therapist's questions about seeing anything upsetting at the compound, talking about a woman named elizabeth and her son scott, who came to live in the temple. and ephesian took the son away. but ephesian caught his mother visiting her son, and “the mighty men” beat her, which brings melissa to tears as she recounts this. and he hit the boy, calling him garbage, beating him.

scully looks very stressed in the background to hear all of this, but sydney is now fronting at this point, saying to leave melissa alone, and that the guns are in the bunkers… somewhere. where they are is a mystery, though.

scully leans down to mulder and says that maybe there is a map somewhere, but mulder says she knows where to find them. and at this she says “mulder…” in a very breathy fashion and i still can’t quite articulate what is going on between them…. but he’s going in.

he says it’s me, melissa, and asks her to go back to the field. “your eyes may have changed shade, but it cannot color the soul behind them”, she says. that they are only to meet in passing in this life. and she misses him. he just stared and stares, before his head falls into his hands

scully is trying to explain to him that this is a product of melissa's illness, and she can’t give any specifics- no names or locations, and they don’t have time to do this, because ephesian’s arraignment is in two hours.

“wouldn’t you, scully? wouldn’t anybody?” <- oh my god…. is he compelled by a terrible sense of duty or by his own curiosity? is she scared to watch him go down this path he cannot return from?

okay, so now he is going back into his past lives. this sequence is almost entirely a close up of his face, for minutes on end, which adds to the intensity. he's really panting as he remembers. “ghetto streets. shattered glass. bodies of the dead. a jewish woman. poland.” oh my god……

he says that he is samantha’s mother in this life; “in this life, she is my son”

his father is dead, and… HIS FATHER IS SCULLY? WHAT? i didn’t see that coming. she’s troubled by this, all of this, not just learning he believes her soul to have been his father before.

but he says that his father is waiting now for their souls to come back together, different, but always together, again and again, to learn.

and he is crying. he can’t go to his father. a gestapo man is there, and he is cancer man; “evil returns as evil, but love… souls mate eternal”. and his wife is melissa, who is taken away to the camps. and he’s crying, and scully is watching with great concern.

now, he’s rising above the field, near the bunker. and his sergeant is also dead, and “he is scully”, and we cut to her face of increasing sadness. sarah holds him, who is melissa. she is sarah kavanaugh, and he is sullivan biddle. she doesn’t know that he’s waiting for her, that they will live again.

scully tries to ask if he sees any bunkers, but he keeps saying his soul is tired, and he wants to rest.

and this is devastating. it was if i was the one undergoing the hypnosis here. i couldn't look away, i couldn't react, i was so entirely absorbed and confused and busy feeling things.

scully is consulting a map in the town records to try and find this bunker where the weapons are stored, and then she looks up the names he mentioned. sure enough, they are in the county records. then she reaches for some photos, where she finds one of sullivan and sarah.

a lot of things are being processed in her brain, so we might need to give her a minute. i think we can see some long-held systems of belief being challenged in her mind.

but she brings him back the photos of their past lives, even as she is telling him that ephesian is going to be released soon. why would she do this? to comfort him? to validate him without using words?

oh my god, mulder just called her “dana”. wait. hold on. oh my god, hold on.

“dana, if, um… early in the four years we’ve been working together… an event occurred that suggested or somebody told you that… we’d been friends together in other lifetimes- always- wouldn’t it have changed some of the ways we looked at one another?”

“even if i knew for certain, i wouldn’t change a day”

WAUGHHHHHHHH (ripping my clothes off in grief) WAOUGHHHHHH wouavhhhghhhh……… she wouldn’t change a day….

(and what event was it that he is referring to? is there a certain one...? am i forgetting something from early s1...? damn you, my obsessive note-taking impulses, for not kicking into gear until s2...)

“well… maybe that flukeman thing, i could have lived without that just fine” HDHJSNSME he smiles as she leaves….

(i had to google what that even was because i was like ??? but the flukeman was the season 2 sewer baby!!! for those of you who are going into this whole thing blind and also don't know what the fandom calls stuff! i think to me he was "baby sewer mermaid" or something along those lines... but now we know)

so now he and melissa are in the room together, trying to recall. she says she wants to believe (!!!), and he’s rubbing her hand, but ephesian comes in, saying it’s time to leave. so she rips the photo in half and leaves crying.

does he know he was supposed to love her? is he mourning that he hasn't? is he wondering if he has time to?

mulder gets up, and leans his head against the wall. scully comes in to say that they are still searching for more bunkers as the temple people return to their home. there is a deep sense of grief.

ephesian seems suspicious.

mulder is talking to skinner, saying that those in the temple believe that the FBI are the devil’s army, prophesied to be defeated by the armies of god. but ephesian must not really believe that, because he hid the weapons. mulder emphasizes that he may “deny himself”.

back at the compound, all the members are being called to worship. the music is getting scary, and guns are being pulled out.

scully looks up some bible verses and realizes that ephesian is calling his members to the end of times, which gives skinner the go ahead to launch a raid.

back at the compound, the poison is being distributed to the members of the temple. and a few are shooting at the agents outside, and mulder and scully pull up as the sipping of the poison begins inside.

NO! mulder puts his hands up and begins to walk into the compound!!!!! WHAT IS HE DOING!!! scully shouts out that he is dead. as we see inside there are piles and piles of bodies, including melissa.

but wait! is she still alive???? she’s getting up!!!

but no! ephesian is still there watching her. giving her poison to take. mulder is running in as fast as he can, trying to figure out what is going on. and he finds the room full of the bodies while gregorian chanting is in the background.

he finds melissa, with no pulse, holding onto the photo she had torn.

scully sees him touching her arm, raising his eyes and crying.

we end where we began, with him in the field, holding the pictures of his and melissa’s past lives.

end episode.

what…..

first thoughts: i don’t quite know what to make of this, but i can tell it is going to tear me apart for the rest of my life.

second and third thoughts are also variations of my first thought.

i feel so sad? to know that mulder has (or thinks he has) lived these horrific past lives, and that he is reunited with the same people over and over again, to learn and lose them. and that scully was there with all of them- but so was melissa, and he said that soulmates are eternal, so if that is true he lost his for this life. and he said he was so tired, so tired... how can he escape the eternal cycle of samsara?

and scully, watching all of this- what did she mean when she said that he wasn't responsible for anything but himself? was it an insult? was she begging him? what was she feeling when she heard him talk about her being there in his past? was she trying to hurt him in their conversation in the car? will they ever actually be able to see eye to eye? does she believe him? can she? how does hearing all of this shake her own faith?

can you have many soulmates that come with you again and again, just in different forms? so would his soulmates be scully, and his mother and father and sister, and this melissa figure? and what are the implications of losing a soulmate in this world? is that a life of feeling that something is missing, until death? do they shuffle roles, but come again and again? is that comforting or horrific? are we to believe him?

and that terrible, terrible ending, him finding the bodies... how are we supposed to interpret that? just more grief on top of already endless grief? or are we supposed to see the poetry moment as an answer to a question that provides relief, even if it is bittersweet?

why did he want to know so badly? was he driven by duty to save? duty to find the Truth? duty to protect his loved ones and seek cosmic answers? are these separate things, or are they all intertwined in him?

i'm... really going to have to think this one over. i would really appreciate hearing your thoughts, as well. i wish i had a solid interpretation. it was very serious and sad, and it was bittersweet but filled with grief. i once again echo my earlier request for fluff. but how do you go back to the way things were once he says she was with him in every life? how does scully rationalize that? what are they to each other?

i'm pondering. it feels like something has shifted. and you can't go back now, even if i can't pinpoint what it is that changed.

i want to go back to daydreaming about apple cider dates. but it feels like you can't, you know? huh.

#this one was A Lot for me #i am not sure i would rewatch this recreationally because it was so much grief #and i am grateful for the character analysis but also i don't know what to do with it #i just have ALL THESE FEELINGS and i don't know WHERE TO PUT THEM #so yes i ask every episode for interpretations/thoughts/feelings/reactions #but for this one i am BEGGING on my knees. pls share yours.#it feels like something has changed forever and can never go back and i almost wish it could #what am i feeling? anyone wanna tell me?#maybe this is one of those things you need longer than 24 hours to comprehend #if you have struggled with what this episode means and came to your own answer lmk because it feels like a koan #IT'S JUST A SHOW i tell myself as i try to decode the meaning of life IT'S JUST A SHOW #but i want them to be happy and it so rarely happens!#is that so wrong... for a girl to want her favorite characters to be happy... no it is not #halloween episode now. show me silly costumes. i need some levity #juni's x files liveblog #txf #the x files

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