#did anyone else cry at this scene like her face and his little smile at the end - ahahahahah I can’t :)

[really-fanny-longbottom]

only in my dreams

summary: love has two sides. it can be pure, beautiful, and exciting, but it can also be lonely, painful, and the worst of all — unrequited.

warnings: mentions of heartbreak, unrequited love, alcohol, death and a curse word.

pairings: azriel x reader

words: 3.3k

you should have stayed at home.

you knew you shouldn't have come.  

you knew it was a bad idea from the moment you walked through the threshold of the balcony of the house of wind.

it was sad to know that this house used to be your safe haven — a place where you were happy and felt safe, where you could be yourself. 

but now it makes you want to leave as quickly as possible and never come back.

because that was the only solution to not having to see the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes. 

your eyes — the same ones that used to contain love and happiness, were now sad and empty.

the same ones who used to shine with excitement every time you entered a room looked now absent — as if something had sucked away their vitality and left nothing behind.

even your kind and warm smiles had started to appear less frequently until they disappeared completely.

that's how you looked now — no sparkles in your eyes and no smile on your face as you moved the food on your plate with a fork from side to side.

you stopped listening to the conversation a long time ago. 

it was another dinner night with the inner circle at the house of wind. you were sitting between rhys, who was at the head of the table on your right side, and nesta on your left side.

you were trying everything to keep your eyes on your plate so you didn't have to watch elain being courted by azriel — the owner of your heart and the reason it was breaking little more day by day.

he wasn't to blame and you didn't blame him for his feelings towards the middle archeron sister, afterall, no one has the power to choose who they like or love — but it didn't make it any less painful.

pain — you were feeling it a lot now.  

every time elain laughed at something azriel whispered to her made it hurt even more.  

your power wasn't helping you at all right now.  

Being an empath had its advantages — it allowed you to feel and understand the emotions and feelings of others and increase and decrease their intensity. it also allowed you to know when someone is lying or telling the truth and to control and manipulate them, despite not using the last two (unless it was necessary) because you believe it to be incorrect.

but the thing most people didn't know about being an empath is that it affects your emotions and feelings, too.

it makes you feel everything more intensely — meaning that you felt everything ten times more than everyone else.

a good joke that made others laugh until their stomachs hurt — made you cry with laughter. 

simple things that made others happy — made you jump with joy.

and when others felt passion — you felt love. 

you loved with more strength and intensity than everyone, but you also suffered in the same way.

and when you suffer, it's like your light has been turned off.

a hand on your knee took you out of your thoughts — nesta.  

she was the only reason you were here — literally, she dragged you from the library when you told her you wouldn't be joining them for dinner.

the older archeron sister had become one of your favorite people. 

nesta was the one who had the most difficult time in adjusting and accepting this new life, so instead of ignoring her as some did, you decided to be the first to extend your hand to her.

it all started with your mutual interest in books. it started with book recommendations, then exchanges and finally reading them together.

by the time you noticed, you were training together, sharing meals, and adventuring in the city.

your friendship was not easy — nesta made sure of that.  

at first, she tried to push you away with cold stares and nasty comments, but you knew better than anyone that it was nothing but a defense mechanism.

you knew that when she said she was better off alone, she really just wanted someone to hug her.

so, knowing better than anyone, you fought for her.  

you ignored the cold stares and faced her nasty comments, and when she tried to push you away, you stood your ground and didn't let her.  

little by little, she let you in, and you got to know her — the real nesta.  

over time, the staring stopped, the comments disappeared, and instead of trying to push you away, she started looking for your company.

your friendship turned into a sisterhood, and now, Nesta would fight for you just as much as you fought for her. 

your sisterhood grew, and short after that, you were welcoming emerie and gwyn — your girls.

quickly, a friendship was formed between the four of you, and there was no one you trusted more than each other.  

they told everything about themselves, their past, their fears, and even their secrets.

so, you did the same — except your feelings for the shadowsinger, nesta was the only one who knew about that.

you joined the inner circle one hundred and fifty years ago when you moved to velaris to live with your great-aunt madja.

despite being an empath, you also inherited a natural talent for healing just like your aunt.

that's how you met rhysand and his family.

there was an enemy attack in windhaven with several fatalities and many injured illyrians, which required all the healers who worked at the clinic, including you and madja, to be winnowed there by morrigan.

as soon as you arrived, it was total chaos. the soldiers who were not injured, and even some who were, did not stop running from one side to the other, nor did they stop shouting or grabbing weapons and demanding to go after those who fled making it impossible for the healers to help. 

the enemy had already been defeated before your arrival, so you were not in danger and for that reason, you did not hesitate to use your powers.

you made your way so you could stand right in the middle of the soldiers. 

you raised your arms to the sides and closed your eyes, and with a little bit of focus you let the soldiers' emotions start to invade you from head to toe.

then with a long sigh, you took control of their emotions and released your power.

the soldiers immediately stopped in their places and went limp before starting to fall to the ground unconscious.

you put them to sleep.

it was the only safe way for the healers to be able to do their work even though you didn't like having this kind of control over someone.

the only ones who were not affected were the high lord, his brothers, and his cousin.

their eyes were fixed on you, who remained standing among the sleeping soldiers.

and when they turned to you for an explanation of what had just happened, they were even more shocked when you revealed to them what you were and what you had just done.

they had never met anyone with that kind of power, and so they were having a little trouble getting their faces back to an expression of neutrality.

impressed wasn't enough to describe how they were feeling at that very moment.

qs a thanks, rhysand offered you a position in his inner circle. after some hesitation and several lectures from madja about how it would be a bad idea (and lack of education) to refuse such an offer, you accepted.

moving to the house of wind, you established friendships with all the members, but azriel was the one you became closest to.  

you became best friends over time, and before you could stop your heart, you fell in love with him.  

even when he was already in love with mor.

despite knowing about his affections towards the blonde female, it hadn't hurt as much as it does now because azriel had never acted on his feelings for her.

but you decided to wait. you believed that one day the mother would smile upon you, and she would grant you the wish you carried in your heart every day.

therefore, during that time, you were content to love him from afar — and in the shadows.

you thought that day had finally arrived after noticing the change in azriel's behavior towards mor after the arrival of the archeron sisters.  

you couldn't be more wrong.

you couldn't help but find this whole situation ironic. after decades of seeing azriel in love with mor and hoping that one day he would notice you, he was now courting elain.

the archeron sisters came into your life and turned everything upside down. you were grateful that feyre and nesta's path led them to you, but you couldn't feel the same way about elain.

before you could wander in your thoughts even more, nesta squeezed your knee, getting your attention again. 

you looked at your best friend and noticed the worry on her face, so putting your hand on top of hers, you murmured to her a small "i'm okay" and gave her a small smile. 

"are you sure?" she murmured too, so no else could hear it. 

you nodded your head at her and returned your attention to your plate.

rhys' voice made you look up, and you regretted it immediately because in that exact moment, you saw azriel and elain's hands intertwined on the top of the table.

you shook your head and looked at your high lord — who had become a very good friend of yours.

"are our plans at rita's still on for tomorrow night?" rhys asked. 

everyone — but you — said their agreements before azriel spoke, "actually, elain and i have plans for tomorrow night." 

your breathing got caught on your throat, and nesta's hand flew immediately to yours, grabbing it gently.

it was Feyre who asked, "where are you going?" you could've sworn there was a hint of surprise in her voice.

"to the new restaurant that just opened by the rainbow. it's supposed to be very good," elain's eyes moved from her younger sister to the male sitting next to her, "so we decided to try it." 

cassian cleared his throat, and he looked in your direction before looking at the people in front of him. "it's that a date? are you going on a date?"

azriel chuckled and squeezed elain's hand. "i guess we can call it that." 

you stood up abruptly, attracting everyone's eyes, "sorry. i just remembered that madja needs my assistance to visit a patient tomorrow, and i forgot to prepare the medical bag." 

you excused yourself before leaving the dining room and making your way towards the stairs. 

you heard cassian and nesta calling your name, but you didn't bother to turn as you started to descend the ten thousand steps.

through your power, you were able to realize that no one — with the exception of your best friend and her mate — noticed your lie. 

Just as they didn't notice the tears that filled your eyes as soon as you turned your back on them and left the room.

••• 

you went to your aunt's house.  

the last thing madja expected to find at her door at that time of night was her niece with red eyes and tears running freely down her cheeks.

she barely let you walk in before she wrapped your figure into a tight embrace. 

she had noticed the change in your mood recently but decided not to comment because she knew very well that as soon as you were ready to talk, you would tell her everything.

and that's what you did.

you told her everything as you both rested on her pink couch with your head in her lap while she caressed your hair, listening to your words attentively.

you ended up falling asleep with your cheeks stained from the tears, and madja didn't dare to move. she refused to awake you from your peaceful slumber.

she bent down to kiss your head, and when she raised again, she saw a piece of parchment on the top of the table next to the couch, reaching for it.

it was rhysand asking where you were. 

madja answered for you, saying that you were with her and spending the night at her house. 

it didn't take long until your aunt joined you into your slumber.

•••

the following night, you made your way towards the House after a hard day at the clinic. 

the day got worse when the patient you went to see at his residence didn't make it.

sometimes, you hate your job, especially because of your powers. when things got too much for you to handle, you had to put a shield around you to prevent you from feeling your patients worries or pains.

the patient you visited was heavily sick. it was too late to do anything medical, so you did the only thing you could.

you used your powers. let his emotions invade you, and then, with a long sigh, you took away his pain and transferred it to you.

that was the only thing you could do for him at that moment, and you are more than relieved that you were able to provide him comfort while he left this world, making his passing easier for him and his family.

you climbed the ten thousand steps, but it didn't even bother you. you were too busy thinking about your patient and whether his family would be okay.

you made a mental note to visit them the next day and help where you could.

you pushed these thoughts away as you opened the door and entered the House.

all you needed right now was to be with your friends and forget about this awful day.

when you walked into the living room, you remembered that everyone went to rita's.

well, everyone, but you, azriel, and elain. the two of them were on their date tonight. 

and like a snap of a finger, all your emotions and feelings from the last few months and days came flooding back.  

your eyes fell on rhys's expensive drinks cart.  

you wiped your tears and everything you felt turned into anger.  

"fuck it."

you went to the cart, grabbed the first bottle that was in your reach, removed the cork and drank, sinking the drink down your throat and your sorrows with it.

•••

three hours later, cassian, nesta, rhys and feyre finally arrived at the house.

amren had departed to her apartment after they left rita's and mor stayed behind saying that her night wasn't over yet.

the two couples had come talking about you on the way. they had waited for you but when you didn't show up, they assumed you were with madja or still at the clinic.

rhys had sent a letter to madja a few minutes ago asking for you and when your aunt said she was looking for you too, they left hoping to find you here.

they just didn't expect the state they were going to find you.

as soon as they passed the threshold of the balcony and into the living room, they saw you.

you were laying on the couch with your legs off of it, an empty bottle was in your hand, and another on the floor by your feet.

"oh my god," the high lady whispered.

cassian moved and kneeled next to you by the couch. his hand made its way to your arm and tried to awake you.

"y/n." he shook you lightly.

after a few seconds, you opened your eyes and were faced with the General looking at you.

"cass," you said with your voice dragging, "you're here." you moved to sit and wrapped him into a hug, one that he didn't hesitate to reciprocate.

"are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked you while caressing your back.

"i am now that you're all here," you released a breath. "my dear friends", you looked at your other three friends who were looking at you with concern. "you're so beautiful. all of you. did you know that?" you giggled.

it was rare for you to drink and when you did, you never got drunk.

nesta sat down next to you and put an arm around your shoulders. you took the opportunity to rest your head on her shoulder, finding comfort in your friend's embrace.

"what happened, y/n?" she asked you.

you started laughing before replying with irony in your voice "what didn't happen?" 

you pushed away from her and stood so you could face all your friends "my patient died. the male I've been in love with for decades won't even look at me and this house that used to be my safe haven, it's now the stage of my pain."

"oh! not to mention that elain is mated but does she care? no! does azriel care? of course not. i've been in love with him for decades. decades! and he doesn't even look at me." you started laughing, "by the cauldron, u'm pathetic."

your family didn't seem surprised by your revelation.

cassian pulled you into a tight hug and rhys and nesta moved to do the same.

if it weren't for this situation everyone would've thought that the world was about to end from seeing rhys and nesta hugging each other.

morrigan arrived in the moment you were in the middle of your friends with tears in your eyes.

"what's going on?" mor whispered to feyre who was still in the same spot since she arrived.

feyre explained everything and by the moment she finished, both females had tears in her eyes at the sight of her friend being hurt.

"what's wrong with me?" you asked them, your voice breaking.

"nothing is wrong with you. nothing." that wasn't your friend speaking — it was your high lord.

feyre and morrigan joined the hug in the moment you said, "i'm never going to be good enough for him. i'll never be her." 

tears rolled down feyre and mor faces, and both females were asking the same question in their minds "how long has she been feeling like this?"

your high lady spoke this time, "y/n, what can we do? what do you need?"

you hugged cassian tighter before locking eyes with nesta "i just need my girls."

nesta nodded her head at you and looked at the blonde female "can you take us?" 

mor didn't hesitate in agreeing. 

anything to make you feel better.

•••

two hours later, you were in the middle of the bed with nesta and gwyn on one side and emerie on the other, all of them with their arms around you.

the three of them had fallen asleep a few minutes ago after one hour of you telling them everything about azriel and a lot of cups of tea and tissues.

you thought they would've been mad at you but they didn't. 

they reassured you several times that it was okay and that you could take all the time in the world until you were ready after you tried to apologize too many times.

now you were staring at the ceiling thinking about your options.

you couldn't live like this anymore, knowing that azriel would never love you back. 

so you were going to do the only thing you could in order to protect what was left of your heart.

there was something about your powers that no one knew. something that you never had shared.

you had a switch.  

one that you could turn on and off whenever and wherever you wanted.  

in the same way that you could feel everything, you could also feel nothing.

the only problem? everything that made you, you, would disappear.

but it was also your solution to your situation.

you closed your eyes and gave a deep breath.

you focused on your breathing for a minute and then. . .

no more emotions.

no more feelings.

no more love.

no more sadness.

no more pain.

no more tears.

you turned it off.

when you opened your eyes again, you were numb.

you didn't feel a single thing. 

good.

a/n: thank you for reading!

[masterlist]

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[randomshyperson]

Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.

Wanda + hugs + no. 24

Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.

The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.

Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.

Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.

She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.

But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.

Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.

Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.

She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.

The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.

"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."

Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.

"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”

“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”

She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while." 

"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."

She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.

But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.

Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.

"I really missed you, witchy." 

She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 26: It’s a Halloween party right? - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warning: Mentions of basically bullying, cursing, killing, a little graphic but nothing crazy.

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Tiny blurbs of what I think the muses would act when you’re at a Halloween party with them and someone makes fun of your costume!

Notes: Why did anyone stop wearing costumes I hate this new era were in. Grow up. Wear a costume.

Jason Voorhees: Immediately killing. No doubts about that, I take Jason to be a somewhat naive character but he absolutely knows what it’s like to have someone laugh at you. Whether it’s a crude joke or a twisted sense of humor, he can put two and two together, so the party definitely goes from zero to a hundred. I don’t think he would give the other a second to correct themselves or analyze the situation, instead it’s immediate kill, ask questions later. If you ran away crying, it’s overkill and Jason would never give parties a second chance, sorry.

Michael Myers: I think if he understood it, it may take him a while, they have to be obnoxious about it. If they’re laughing and throwing stuff at you, immediately Michael springs into action. There’s so many people who dress like him anyway, there are doubts that he’s even the real thing but some the smarter of the bunch know better than to join in and make a run for it before they get caught in the crosshairs. When everyone is pinned to the walls with kitchen knives and whatever he can find, then the place gets set ablaze, it’s not like he wanted to be there in the first place.

Tiffany Valentine: Picks up on it before you do and when she does she’s coming up with the most embarrassing way to be found dead. She’s trying to be a better person, she really is but why are they laughing at you? Maybe she can give everyone else who gets their hands on the crime scene photos something to laugh about. I don’t think she would give them a second to apologize or make up for it, she’s already had their death made up in her mind. They really fucked with the wrong person.

Billy Loomis: Laughs louder but with empty eyes, these group of kids just signed their death sentence. If you’re sobbing, the more tears you shed, the more blood they will. If you’re only uncomfortable, they’re still dying, maybe not as gory but he’s still taking his time. He gets away with it too, with the help of Stu. “Come on, Stu’s parties are way better than this” he’d kiss your forehead, not caring if there’s glitter sprinkled all over him.

Stu Macher: Kind of grinning, looking at both you and whoever the hell is trying to insult your costume. “Well I think it’s really cool.” He’d say, acting nothing but stupid with a big grin. I think he would have less restraint than Billy though, he’d start getting the strays one by one, coming around acting completely clueless as to what was happening. He’s a little smug with how well he covers up what’s real blood and what’s part of the decorations. Be careful pissing off Stu, you would’ve thought people would know that by now.

Leatherface: Poor baby he would be so confused at first, the groups of people would have to literally be laughing and you’d have to have a visceral reaction to their mean words. As soon as he puts two and two together, its head empty only wants to see their guts across the room. He’s especially violent because he knows what it’s like to be made fun of by his family and by the victims. It’s not a good feeling and he would do anything to make it go away when it came to you.

Patrick Bateman: There would be light chuckles, all the way up until he notices that they’re talking about you. A pressed smile would make itself present across his face, sniffing his drink before setting it down. Swiping his tongue across his perfect front teeth, mouth closed and sticking a fist in his pocket. You insisted to dress up for the silly Halloween party, he was hesitant about allowing you, but you did look stunning in designer clothes as a tacky costume. Patrick would absolutely pull a Stu and lead the others away from the pack, one by one around the building before unleashing the most amount of rage. Spitting and yelling, blood of his victims splattered across his delightful face. “Not the fucking face you fucking fuck.” He’d groan out wiping as much as he could off with his sleeve and trying to slick back his hair as much as possible before moving to the next person.

Harley Quinn: “Whatddaya mean by that?” There would be no hesitation for Harley to have the group try to correct themselves, depending on their reactions would directly affect if and how’d they die. If they would show no remorse, Harleys face would turn into a wide smile, staring blankly at them before shrugging her shoulders then shooting them point blank in the face, one by one. If there was some kind of remorse, Harley would be judge, jury and executioner about it. “Sorry about the blood on yer costume cupcake, maybe Ivy has somethin’ for that! If not her, then maybe kitty Kat.” Nobody makes fun of her baby, if they did, then she’d make sure they wouldn’t laugh about anything ever again.

Poison Ivy: With a raised eyebrow, Pamela would know exactly whether or not how they meant it and if she didn’t, they’re wrong, it’s exactly how Pamela viewed it. You were so excited to wear a costume, Ivy even helped you get it together, you were absolutely over the moon and now, some people who thought they were too good to dress up for Halloween were laughing in front of you both. Similar to Harley, she is judge, jury and executioner. While her methods would be a little more sophisticated, they still inflict the most amount of pain. She always carried something for moments like this, where one’s blood would turn against them, making them feel like there’s venom slowly invading their veins. Maybe a prick, maybe some powder, maybe a kiss, who really would see it coming. Either way, nobody laughs at her baby.

Billy Hargrove: Would stop what he’s doing immediately to look at whoever or whatever group was laughing at you, there would be a moment of silence offered to them to get themselves together. Not many chose to laugh or keep up the act and those who did would get a real beating full of pent up rage. So what if you wanted to wear a costume, so what if you were the only one. That was the point of it no? A halloween party? These people were going to be damn near unconscious by the time he’s done with them.

Steve Harrington: All fun and games until you’re crying. “You guys take it too far!” If you ran out of the room, Steve is chasing after you immediately to console you. You’re drunk, he’s drunk, you’re both a mess but you’re crying and as a great boyfriend, he’s trying to console you. “This party’s lame anyway, let’s get out of here” he’d kiss your forehead, if you’re still pouting he’s more than happy to sit down with you. “I think you’re the prettiest fairy in the whole world. And other worlds too.” He’d wipe the tears off your face, getting a warm towel to help. “Come on. You’re so beautiful, you look amazing, everyone’s costume is a jackass I guess. But I thought we were supposed to be something different for Halloween” he’d roll his eyes, still drunkenly trying to clean you up. He’s such a catch.

Steve Rogers: Concerned eyebrows active. “Hey what did you just say” suddenly no one wants to repeat themselves and if you know anything about captain America is that he absolutely hates bullies. “It’s a Halloween party no?” Suddenly he’s heated, facing the group completely while you make yourself small behind him. Everyone’s on edge enough to try to break it up. He wasn’t surprised they’d be backtracking, but he still doesn’t accept that behavior. “Apologize” “Steve- no it’s okay.” “No. It’s not okay. Apologize” even if they did, god forbid he caught them alone while you weren’t there. “He must’ve felt left out and added some fake blood to his face to fit in.”

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s going to stand up for you, especially when he can tell if it really got to you. All he thinks about was about how excited you were pulling your costume together and now you were crying or about to start crying and hugging yourself wanting more than anything to go home. Bucky has a way shorter temper than Steve though and he doesn’t care if it’s in front of anyone, they’re going to apologize to you without him having to ask. After sorting that out, he’s babying you after all of this.

Loki Laufeyson: Immediately killing them, even if he’s trying to reform his ways, he still can’t stand the thought of someone else’s words humiliating you. If he doesn’t have the patience to outwit them, he’s absolutely going to kill them. You’re his baby and he will always stand up for you, he’s just a little rusty around his methods. “If you ask me, you’re the most beautiful most elegant vampiress in the universes and I’ve been to many” Loki has such a way to always make you feel like the most beautiful and important creature, if it wasn’t his words, you had a hard time believing anyone else. He worships you more than anyone on this list so it’s hard to let anyone make you feel inferior.

Cloud Strife: He doesn’t get it for a moment, not until you’re upset. When he realizes you’re upset, he follows you out. He’s not the best at comforting but when he sees you upset, he’s all over you. “You look beautiful.” He admires you, after all it’s only Clouds picky opinion that you care about. He rather spend the holiday with you instead, he’s not really much of a party guy. Cloud would absolutely wipe your tears, sit in the grass with you, walk around the town all while complimenting your costume every chance he got.

Sebastian Michaelis: Maybe not immediately killing them, but absolutely torturing them, all with a smile. If there are appearances to be made, he waits until he can find them alone. He understood every crude remark, every joke, even when they thought they could get away with it with sly comments. “You appear to be the most stunning character here Lady Y/N.” That’s enough to make you blush, after all he only has eyes for you. He encouraged you to dress up, he wasn’t lying when he said you looked gorgeous. For anyone to have the nerve to make fun of you, it would be a death wish.

Spencer Reid: He would absolutely outwit them, nobody can really keep up with his charm. He didn’t really acknowledge the joke at first, until it hit him. Both of you would be dressed up and he’s more than ready to stand up for you especially. Spencer vents to you all the time about people who think they’re too good to dress up in a costume for a Halloween party. He doesn’t need to get physical with them, but let’s say if they really crossed a line then he’ll pull some strings at the BAU.

Bruce Wayne: So what if you were the only one wearing a costume, similar to Spencer, he can absolutely outwit them. Everyone wants to please Bruce and it only takes him staring at the ones who are laughing with a straight face. The elites around him would want his validation so bad that they would also stop laughing immediately. “I don’t get it. Who are you again? New money?” Hit them where it hurts. “The dress is Hermes, fortunately they had it expedited last minute. We had a few options to sort through. Looks like a dream nevertheless.” But it was never the dress that made you look godly, it was Bruce’s love.

Jason Todd: Immediately getting violent “what the fuck did you just say” and you better hope he misheard them. It’s scary to see Jason get this worked up, but it was for you. Before you know it he’s got another guy hung up against the wall or dragged across the table by the collar of their shirt. He would comfort you afterwards, treating you to whatever you want. “You know you’re the prettiest baby at the party.” If anything they’re better off making fun of you instead of making crude comments about wanting to see what you look like under the costume, I think Jason would have to be locked up in Arkham after that if that were to happen. He’s still pulling strings with the batfam to teach them a lesson.

[gothcsz]

jealous possessive javi?

💖

tags: f!reader, smut, javi cheats on you, unprotected p in v sex (this is fiction but be safe irl), fingering, angst, jealous and possessive javi, unbeta'd, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx. ~ 5.1k w/c / gif cred

a/n: toxic!javi stans, this is for us 🙂‍↕️ kat keep your writings short challenge (FAILED) hope you like this my sweet anon 🖤

You’ve been broken up for ten weeks now. Two months and ten agonizing days. Every minute since has felt like a slow burn, as if each breath without him is a reminder of the emptiness he left behind. You thought you’d have been over him by now— Javier Peña wasn’t supposed to have this kind of hold on you, not after everything he did.

Not after you walked into his office that night, a surprise dinner in hand, only to find him fucking his secretary. The image still sears behind your eyes— the slick, desperate way they moved together while you stood frozen in the doorway, a witness to your own heartbreak.

The signs had always been there, even from the first date. The way his eyes lingered a little too long on the waitress or how he’d get that restless look in his eyes when you weren’t around. But damn, he had a way of making you feel like you were the only one.

Like every glance, every touch, was meant for you and you alone. He had a gift for making you feel special, all while hiding his cock’s insatiable appetite behind a charming smile.

Now, you feel raw, like maybe it was your fault. Maybe you weren’t enough to keep him satisfied. Maybe you didn’t do enough in bed, didn’t keep his interest, didn’t hold onto him like you should have. The betrayal made you feel small, made you question every moment, every kiss, every whispered promise. It should’ve made walking away easier, catching him like that. It should’ve been enough to erase him from your mind. But it wasn’t.

And it’s taken this long— two months and ten days— of wallowing, of replaying the betrayal, to finally push you out of your haze. Tonight, something shifts. Your friend set you up with someone from her work, and after much prodding, you said yes.

Tonight, you’ve decided to put yourself back out there. Maybe if you let someone else touch you, if you let someone else in, you’ll finally be able to push Javier out of your mind for good.

It’s been radio silence ever since. After you caught him in his office, the scene unfolded like something out of a bad movie. His face went from shock to panic in a split second, scrambling to pull up his pants, stumbling over excuses. “She meant nothing,” he stammered, running after you with that flustered, desperate look. “It was a mistake!” But you didn’t stop, didn’t even give him a second glance. You barely held back the tears as you hurled the containers of food at him, the dinner you’d lovingly prepared splattering down the hallway, leaving a messy trail as you stormed toward the stairwell. No way in hell were you waiting for the elevator. Six flights of stairs felt like nothing compared to the pit in your stomach, and the thought of giving him even one more second to sweet talk you back into his web made you sick.

You blocked him on everything the minute you got home. Packed a bag with the essentials and bolted to your cousin’s place, where you spent weeks crying yourself to sleep on her couch. Not a single call. Not a text. Not that he could, since you blocked him on every possible avenue. But even then, he didn’t try. Not a knock on the door, not a surprise visit. You realized in those sleepless nights that he’d never really bothered to get close to anyone in your life. Another red flag you had stupidly painted green, thinking he was the man of your dreams.

So when you finally pull yourself together, forcing yourself out of that dark pit of misery and agreeing to this blind date at the bar, you’re in higher spirits. You’re ready to move on— or at least try. But of course, life has a twisted sense of humor. Because the last person you expect to see sitting at the bar, laughing with another woman like nothing happened, is Javier fucking Peña.

You’d recognize that broad, infuriatingly beautiful frame anywhere. He stands out like a sore thumb, even in the dim lighting. Broad shoulders, lean muscles, and the biggest mistake of your life. The shittiest man you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. And yet, the sight of him still makes your chest tighten, reminding you just how much you let him get away with.

You almost suggest to your date that you should hit up a different bar, something far across town, anywhere but here. But no, you catch yourself. You’re done letting your ex dictate your life, done letting him take up space in your head. You’ve shed too many tears over that man, and tonight isn’t going to be another chapter in the same pathetic story.

At first, he doesn’t even notice you. Of course, his attention is fully on the woman he’s with— some gorgeous thing with legs for days and a face that belongs on a magazine cover. It stings, that familiar twinge of jealousy creeping in. You can’t help it, especially when you know he’s always going to have a pretty girl on his arm.

It’s not until your date excuses himself to use the restroom that Javier’s dark, smoldering eyes finally land on you. And what does he do when your gazes meet? He fucking smirks. That slow, deliberate smirk that used to make your knees weak. He throws in a wink for good measure, casually bringing his short glass up to his lips, taking his time with a sip as if he hasn’t just shattered your evening. His eyes linger on you, tracing every inch of your body, undressing you from across the room without so much as a word.

You shift in your seat, heart pounding in your chest as you quickly turn away, forcing your focus on some random sports game playing on the big screen nearby. But even with your eyes elsewhere, you can feel it— the weight of his stare crawling down your neck, tracing the line of your plunging neckline. Of course he’s looking. Tonight is the night you pulled out the dress— the one kept tucked away for special occasions, the revenge dress.

Every girl has one. The one that hugs in all the right places, the one you save for when you need to remind the world, and yourself, exactly what you’re made of.

And while your date had all but drooled when you stepped out in it, there’s no denying the heat in Javier’s gaze from across the bar. You don’t have to look at him to know what he’s thinking— he’s already imagining that dress crumpled on his bedroom floor.

Your date returns from the restroom, noticeably tipsier and much more handsy than when he left. His touch is bold, his fingers possessive, and you revel in it.

You lean into the attention, letting him pull you closer, putting on a little show for the audience you know is watching. Javier might think he’s the only one who knows how to have fun, but you’re going to make sure he sees just how wrong he is.

Your date’s hands wander over your body— grabbing at your ass, pulling you into him by your hips. He leans in, hot breath against your ear, whispering all the filthy things he’s planning to do to you in the back of his car.

He doesn’t even want to wait until you’re back at your place. He’s desperate, and though you hesitate for a second— things are moving a lot faster than you planned— you can feel Javier’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. His relentless glare pushes you forward, stirring something reckless inside of you.

So, you let it happen. You let this guy press his body into yours, his hands traveling, voice dripping with lust, promising you things he probably won’t even remember tomorrow. But in the heat of the moment, you don’t care. It’s not about him, really. It’s about you. About knowing that Javier’s watching every second of this, hating every second of this, and that’s enough to fuel you.

The next thing you know, you’re outside in the alley behind the bar, lips locked like horny teenagers. His mouth is on your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot that makes your knees weak, and despite yourself, you let out a soft moan.

His fingers slip beneath your panties, fumbling as they rub at your clit, off-rhythm and sloppy. But right now, that doesn’t even matter. What matters is that someone else is touching you. Someone else is making you feel something other than loneliness and anger.

Suddenly, he’s ripped off you, and the cool air rushes in where his body had been pressed against yours. Your eyes snap open, and there he is—Javier, seething with rage, his hand gripping your date by the collar. The force with which he slams him into the brick wall makes your heart lurch.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout, the shock sobering you up fast as you yank down the hem of your dress, covering yourself as best as you can. Anger surges through you, hot and wild. Your hands tremble as you take in the scene— Javier’s knuckles white against your date’s shirt, his face a mask of pure fury.

Javier’s voice is low, dangerous, a growl vibrating from his chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are, touching what’s mine?”

The laugh that bursts out of you is involuntary, bitter, filled with disbelief. His?! Your mind spins. After everything he’s done, after the way he broke you, he still has the audacity to act like you belong to him? Like you’re some possession he can claim when it suits him?

“She didn’t tell me she was seeing anyone,” your date stammers, already backing down, and you want to scream. Men used to go to war. Now, they cower when a bigger man steps in.

You feel an irrational surge of anger, not just at Javier but at this pathetic display of submission.

“Because I’m not,” you spit, stomping over to where Javier has your date pinned against the wall. You shove at Javier’s arm, trying to break his grip, but it’s like trying to move a mountain. You forgot how strong he is, how solid. His presence alone feels suffocating, like a storm rolling in and swallowing all the air around you.

Javier’s eyes flick toward you for a split second before turning back to the man trembling in his grasp. “You come near her again, and I’ll shoot your fucking knees out. You hear me? She doesn’t need a limp dick motherfucker like you putting your filthy fucking hands on her.” His words are a snarl, dripping with venom, and you can see the terror in your date’s eyes, his resolve crumbling as fast as it appeared.

It’s brief, but, you think your date might actually muster the courage to stand his ground. However, Javier’s patience snaps, and before you can react, he drives his knee into the guy’s groin with brutal precision. The man lets out a strangled whimper, doubling over in pain, and Javier finally releases him.

You gasp, hand flying to your mouth, watching in disbelief.

“Understood?” Javier’s voice cuts through the alley like a blade.

Your date nods frantically, both hands clutching his crotch as he stumbles away, all but sprinting out of the alley like a scared animal. The sound of his hurried footsteps fades, leaving you and Javier alone in the dim light.

Your fury boils over, fists clenching at your sides. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Peña,” you snap, marching up to him and shoving at his chest with every ounce of strength you can summon. But he doesn’t budge. He stands there, unshakable, like the damn tower of arrogance he’s always been.

“Ruining my date, acting like you have some claim over me. I’m not yours anymore!”

Javier’s dark eyes are locked on you, tracing your every movement, burning a path from your heaving chest to your flushed cheeks. He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze alone sends a shiver down your spine.

It’s not just anger in those eyes. It’s something else, something that has always made your pulse quicken. The intensity of it makes your breath hitch, even though you’re trying your hardest to stay mad, to stay strong.

You push him again, but it feels like pushing against stone. “You think you can just show up, intimidate some guy, and suddenly I’m yours again? That’s not how this works you asshole.”

He says nothing, his chest rising and falling as he watches you, eyes dark and unreadable. Then he leans in, his voice low and rough. “So I’m just supposed to hang back and watch you practically fuck that guy in front of everyone?”

His words send a jolt of heat through you, the way his voice drops to that familiar, dangerous rumble that used to make your knees weak. But you force yourself to stand firm, to remind yourself that you’re mad— furious, even.

You won’t let him have this kind of power over you again. You can’t.

“Go to hell, Javier,” you snap, shoving him one last time before stepping back, your heart hammering in your chest.

But even as you say it, you feel the pull, that magnetic force that’s always existed between the two of you. And as much as you want to hate him, you can’t deny that part of you still burns for him, still aches for the way he used to make you feel.

“Chiquita,” he drawls, sending shivers down your spine. “You can’t talk to me all angry like that, looking this fucking good, and expect me not to want to push you up against that wall and fuck you like you need.”

Your jaw drops, your brain scrambling for a response, but nothing comes out. His words hit you like a slap, bold and filthy, and despite yourself, heat shoots straight to your cunt. You curse under your breath, hating how your body betrays you.

“Y-You—” you stammer, but you can’t even string a sentence together. And that’s all it takes for him to smirk, that infuriating, knowing smirk that tells you he still has that effect on you.

“You’ve got that girl in there,” you snap, voice trembling even as you try to hold your ground. “Your secretary, and probably half the goddamn city, waiting to spread their legs for you. Not me. Not anymore.”

But even as you say it, your voice falters. The truth you’re trying to convince yourself of feels thin, weak in the face of his presence. He takes a step closer, and instinctively, you take a step back.

“Still hung up on that?” He shakes his head, almost amused. “C’mon, baby, I told you. She was a mistake. She came onto me.”

Another step forward. Another step back.

You can’t believe he’s really doing this— feeding you the same tired excuses. But then again, you can. This is exactly what men like Javier Peña do.

They lie, they cheat, and they make you feel like you’re the one being unreasonable.

“Bullshit someone else, Peña,” your voice shakes again, betraying you. “I’m done with you.”

But he keeps advancing, every step pushing you back until your spine hits the cold, rough brick of the alley wall. You curse under your breath, ready to slip past him, to get out of here before he does something you can’t walk away from. But he moves faster, caging you in with his hands planted on either side of your head.

“I’m not bullshitting,” he murmurs as he leans in close. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek, and despite every ounce of willpower, your body reacts.

His dark brown eyes burn into you, their intensity pulling you under. “She meant nothing. Pussy wasn’t even half as good as yours. Couldn’t even compare.” His nose brushes the side of your face, and you know he’s inhaling the scent of your perfume— the one he always loved.

“Javier…” you try to protest, but your resolve crumbles with each passing second. His hand finds your waist, slowly trailing up the length of your body, fingertips grazing your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. Your breath hitches, and you hate yourself for it.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers, his voice softer now. His palm comes up to cup your breast, kneading it gently, and your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the familiar touch that your body still craves, even if your mind is screaming at you to stop.

“You’re a liar,” you breathe, barely managing to get the words out as his fingers tease your hardened nipple through the fabric of your dress.

Before you can react, his other hand moves with lightning speed, wrapping firmly around your throat. He squeezes just enough to tilt your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. The heat in his eyes is undeniable.

“Don’t say that,” he growls. His grip tightens just slightly, enough to make your pulse quicken under his palm. “Do you know how much it fucking hurt to see another man touching you the way I did? Huh?” He leans in, his lips hovering near your ear as his breath tickles your skin. “You can be so inconsiderate sometimes, cariño.”

Your heart races in your chest, caught between anger and arousal. You should push him away, should scream at him, but the way he’s looking at you— like you’re the only thing that matters in the world— makes it impossible to move.

You open your mouth to speak, but his grip around your throat tightens just enough to rob you of breath, silencing whatever retort you had.

“Letting him put his hands on you like that…” he scoffs, his dark eyes scanning your face as if daring you to deny it. “Touching up on my pretty pussy like he had the fucking right. Like he could handle what’s mine. Even if you had fucked him, we both know he wouldn’t have left you all sore and throbbing the way I do. Wouldn’t have made you wet enough to take his small cock. You’d have to fake it. And for what? To try and make me jealous?”

His words are cutting, sinful, and despite your anger, you feel the way your arousal smears against the fabric of your underwear.

The twisted satisfaction in his voice, the way his grip tightens then loosens just enough for you to breathe— he knows exactly how to break you down, how to remind you that no one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“It seems like it worked,” you manage to gasp out, your voice a rasp as you gulp in air. “You came out here all pissed at the thought that someone else could make me feel better than you ever did.”

That’s what does it. His control snaps.

In an instant, his lips crash against yours in a bruising kiss. It’s rough, possessive, and desperate. His tongue invades your mouth, demanding and unapologetic, as if he’s punishing you for even thinking someone else could replace him.

His hand, the one that had been so firmly on your throat, moves to grope your breast, squeezing you roughly. You moan against his mouth, your body reacting on instinct, traitorous in its desire for him.

“Esos ruidos tan bonitos. Solo para mí.” He murmurs when he pulls back just enough to speak, a string of spit still connecting your mouths. His voice is low, vibrating with dark satisfaction. “Si alguien está mintiendo aquí, eres tú, chiquita.”

His words swirl in your head as you gasp for breath, but before you can form a coherent thought, his hand is already sliding down your body. His fingers trail down your waist, lingering at the hem of your dress before slipping underneath. You let out a sharp gasp, biting down on your lip as his fingers find your soaked panties.

It all happens so fast after that. The hunger between you ignites like a flame catching gasoline. The intensity of the kiss deepens, all teeth and tongues. His possessive touch makes you writhe beneath him, your body yielding even as your mind fights to hold on to some shred of dignity.

“Look at you,” he breathes against your lips, his voice dripping with desire. “Moaning for me. You always do, don’t you?”

“Javier…” You try to protest, but your words are swallowed by another moan as his fingers slip inside your panties, brushing against your throbbing clit.

“Shh, baby. Let me remind you what you’ve been missing,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers begin to stroke you. His movements are deliberate, knowing exactly how to play your body, how to coax those helpless little noises from your throat. “God, you’re so fucking wet. All for me. Always for me.”

You gasp his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as his fingers slide inside you, curling just right. The tension in your body melts, replaced with a rush of heat that pools between your thighs. Your mind blanks, lost in the feel of him— his hand working you over, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck.

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers into your ear, his voice ragged as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the slick sound filling the alley. “This tight little pussy? She was made for me. Feels like heaven around my fingers. Imagine how good she’ll feel wrapped around my cock, huh?”

Your body trembles, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the pressure inside you builds with each thrust of his fingers. You know you shouldn’t be here, pinned against a wall, letting this man who shattered your heart pull you apart like this.

But God, his touch is addictive. His possessive words ignite every part of you.

“Say it,” he growls, his fingers curling deeper, hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Javier…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your resolve crumbling with each passing second as he drags you closer and closer to the edge.

“Say it baby,” he demands, his breath hot against your skin as his thumb presses against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “Tell me I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.”

“No,” you gasp, using every ounce of willpower to bring your hand down, gripping his wrist, halting the delicious rhythm of his fingers inside you.

His fingers still, his breath heavy against your skin as you lock eyes with him, summoning every shred of confidence through the haze of lust clouding your mind. “You tell me that. Tell me I’m the only one who drives you this crazy.”

The tension crackles between you, thick and electric. Your chest heaves, heart racing as his dark eyes search yours.

He groans, leaning in, his lips brushing yours with a desperate hunger. “You are,” he breathes, but it’s not enough.

You can’t help but smirk, your pussy clenching around his fingers just to tease him, making him hiss through clenched teeth. “Say it like you mean it, Javier,” you demand, fueled by the fire burning between your thighs. “You broke my fucking heart, and if you think you’re going to fuck me tonight, you’re going to admit it. Tell me I did everything right. That you are the one who’s hurting. Tell me how much you miss this pussy. How you crave her on your tongue, how you miss fucking her in your bed.”

His eyes drown in lust at your command. His fingers twitch inside you, but he doesn’t move yet. Instead, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze head-on, staring straight into your soul, his breath ragged and uneven.

It’s a battle of wills, and for a second, you think you’ve won.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he purrs, and finally, his fingers begin to move again, slow and deliberate, a tantalizing rhythm that sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. “Sorry for hurting you so bad you felt the need to find another dick to hop on.” His thumb presses against your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily as you gasp at the sensation. “I fucked up. You deserve better.”

His words are laced with apology, but his actions? Pure, selfish desire. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your toes curl. Your head falls back against the brick wall, eyes fluttering closed as a ragged moan escapes your lips.

“But I’m too selfish to let you go,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and husky. “I need you, baby. Miss how sweet you taste, how tight you feel.”

Javier’s mouth is on your neck then, his tongue darting out to lick at the damp skin, tasting the salt of your sweat as his fingers continue their relentless assault. Each stroke brings you closer to the edge, and it’s intoxicating— how easily he can unravel you, how effortlessly he pulls you apart.

Your body feels weightless, high on him, and with each praise, each filthy promise that falls from his lips, you’re hurtling toward your release. His thumb circles your clit faster now, his fingers curling deeper, and you can’t hold it back any longer.

“Javier!” you cry out, your walls clenching around his fingers as the orgasm crashes through you, making your body tremble. Your moans fill the alleyway, breathless and raw, and as you come undone, his mouth crashes into yours in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

He swallows your moans as he undoes his belt with one hand, his fingers never leaving you until the last possible second. Before you even have time to catch your breath, he’s lifting you off the ground, and instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist.

You barely have time to gasp before he’s thrusting inside you, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, brutal motion.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaim, your arms flying around his neck as he starts to pound into you, his thrusts deep and punishing. The sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping against skin, echoes in the narrow alley. Every thrust pushes you further up the wall, and you clutch onto him for dear life as he fucks you hard, like a man possessed.

“Feels so good, baby,” he growls into your ear, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you relentlessly. “Only I can fuck you like this. Only I can make you scream.”

And you do scream, pleasure and frustration mixing together as you meet his punishing thrusts, your body moving on instinct, chasing the high that only Javier can give you.

“You feel that, pretty girl?” His voice is a low rasp in your ear, thick with need, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your core. “This—this is how I fuck what’s mine. No one else can make you feel like this. Admit it.”

His grip tightens on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he drives into you, deeper, rougher. It’s brutal how good he feels, how perfectly his cock stretches and fills you, like your body was made for him.

You hate him, hate that he can still make you feel this fucking good, but your body betrays you, responding to his every touch, clenching around him as if to hold him there forever.

“I—” you stutter, breathless, eyes crossing as the sensations drown out your thoughts. His cock is relentless, pushing you toward the edge again, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips. “I—God, I hate you…”

But it sounds hollow, even to your own ears. The truth is you can’t resist him, never could. He knows exactly how to break you apart, and you despise how much you crave him, how much you need this despite the pain he’s brought you.

Javier chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your neck. “No, you don’t. You love this. You love the way I make you feel.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, biting down on your lobe. “And I love the way you fall apart for me. Just me.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans that threaten to spill out as he thrusts harder, faster. You can feel the pressure building inside you again, tightening with every stroke, every whispered promise of what he’ll do to you.

It’s almost too much, the way he claims you, body and soul. And the worst part? You’re letting him. You want him to.

“Say it,” he demands, his pace quickening, hips slamming into you so hard you’re sure you’ll feel it for days. His lips find yours again, his kiss angry and claiming. “Say you’re mine.”

You shake your head, gasping, fighting against the overwhelming pleasure threatening to consume you. “Javier—”

“Say it,” he growls, his voice rough and insistent as he reaches between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. He circles it with precision, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body, pushing you closer to the brink.

“Fuck!” You cry out, the intensity of his touch stealing the breath from your lungs. Your body is on fire, trembling, and you know you’re about to shatter beneath him. “I—I’m yours…”

The words tumble from your lips in a desperate whisper, and the moment they do, it’s like something snaps inside him. His thrusts become brutal, animalistic, and your world narrows down to the feel of him— his cock, his hands, his lips, all of it overwhelming you, driving you toward that final, devastating release.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now come for me.”

And with that, you do. The orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, crashing through your body with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clench tight around him, your moans loud and unrestrained as you come undone in his arms, shaking and trembling.

Javier groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he follows you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a low, primal grunt. His body shudders against yours, his grip on you tightening as he rides out his release.

The world is still. All you can hear is the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart as you both come down from the high. You’re pressed against him, his forehead resting against yours, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air between you.

But as the haze of pleasure fades, reality starts creeping back in.

You push him away, your palms flat against his chest, but he doesn’t move, if anything, he tightens his hold on you.

His brown eyes still linger on yours, filled with the same possessiveness that’s always been there.

“I told you,” he murmurs, voice low, as if this moment has proven everything he wanted to. “You’re mine.”

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @bitchesuntitled . @angiewatson .

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

[ghostofwriting]

In London: this is when the feeling sinks in

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating. Unedited.

Note: oh no!! She's back and ready to make Rafe cry. This is part of the In London universe.

Word Count: 1,204

“Hey!” It’s Sofia. She sounds way too cheery for the time of night. He turns to look at her and gives her a half smile. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on maid of honour duties?” She laughs, leaning over the bar to look at him. 

“Well, it’s 1:00 AM, the wedding party rests.” 

“Except for you.” he stares down at his drink and swirls it around in the glass. 

“Yeah, because a little birdie told me you needed to be picked up before your tears flooded the place.” She’s trying to play it off but he sees the worry for him on her face.

“Rob told on me? Narc.” He looks over at Rob who just shrugs his shoulders. 

Sofia puts a hand on his back, tapping him. 

“Let’s get you home.” The idea of going home, falling asleep, and waking up in the morning to her officially gone makes him feel sick. 

“I can’t be on this island.” She looks at him inquisitively, lifting a perfectly shaped brow. 

“Knowing that she’s getting married? I’m suffocating.” She frowns at him, she crosses her arms and takes a step back. 

“Get on a boat. I don’t care. Just don’t make a scene.”

“Don’t be mean. I’m not hurting anyone here.”

“Rafe, I love you. You are my best friend. But she is too. As much as she denies it, I know it hurts her. The way you’re acting isn’t good for either of you. Get it together. Let her go.”

He bristles at her words. Some friend she is. Sofia never told him she was engaged. Never told him she was getting married. He had to find out from her, the weekend of her wedding. 

He had called both Sofia and Topper to yell at them for not telling him and they had come up with some bullshit excuse about not knowing how to tell him. Not wanting to hurt him.

 Sarah told him that she wanted him to find out from the invitation. That she thought somehow it would hurt less finding out from the love of his life instead of his sister or his friends. 

An invitation he never received because he didn’t permanently stay at Tannyhill and Sarah lived with John B now. 

He looks at Sofia again and then back down. Silence fills the space between them. He feels like he’s going to cry. All he’s been doing since he found out about the wedding is crying. All he’s been doing since he ruined the best thing that ever happened to him is cry. 

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to love anyone else?” Sofia softens a little. 

“If you let yourself.” He looks at her, confused.

“You still think there’s hope, I’m here to tell you that there is none. She’s getting married. It’s over. It’s done.”

“Sof-” she interrupts him. 

“She’s happy.” He wants to scream that he doesn’t care. That she should be happy with him. He wants to yell at Sofia, at his sister, at the universe that after all these years he’s still in love with her and he deserves to be happy too. 

But the bigger, more mature part of him tells him to let go, to finally move on, to let her be happy because he loves her and she deserves that after all he did to hurt her. 

He wants to go back in time and shake that stupid scared little boy and tell him that throwing this relationship away is not worth it. It’s not worth the pain it’ll cause her. The pain that it’ll cause him for years to come. He hates him. 

How could he have been so stupid? Didn’t he know that she would never forgive him and he would lose everything that he ever cared about?

“Come tomorrow.” He scoffs. 

“You know I can’t.” He blinks away the tears threatening to spill over.

“Where will you be?”

“Here. Tannyhill, the condo, wherever the alcohol is.”

‘“No drugs?” There’s a concern in her voice. Scared that he’ll go back to using. He’s been clean for six years. He’s fine.

“No. Not since-” He doesn’t say it. Sofia fills in the blanks. 

“Since Kie.” he nods. 

“Is she-” he pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat, “is she invited?”

“Absolutely not. She was always on the blacklist.”

Kiara’s not invited to the wedding.

 She didn’t invite Kie to the wedding? She invited him but not her? That had to mean something, right? Why wouldn’t she invite Kie but invite him? Does that mean she forgives him? 

She forgave him and not Kiara. 

She forgave him.

He grabs his wallet and slaps a hundred on the bar top. He moves so fast that the chair he’s sitting on makes the most awful noise as it scratches the floor, drawing the attention of the lingering patrons.

“What’s that face? What are you doing?” Sofia follows, hot on his heels.

“Going home.” Maybe this is his drunk brain or maybe it’s the fact that his heart still beats for her. 

He’s pacing outside her parent’s house. Trying to find the right words to say. Trying to figure out if he’s out of his mind for being here. 

He swings his body in the direction of the door as it opens. 

“What are you doing here? You woke my parents up.”

“I needed to see you.”

“Rafe, it’s 3 am. I have to be up early. My parents are pissed. Please just go.”

“I know. Can you give me 5 minutes?”  She looks beautiful. Her face illuminated by the hue of the Moon. She’s in a sweater and tiny shorts that barely peek out from underneath it. Her hair’s flowing freely, a little messy but framing her face perfectly. 

He wishes she had to be up early for him tomorrow. He wants to be the one that she walks towards and the one she spends the rest of her life with.

“Please.” His voice cracks. 

She motions for him to go ahead. 

“Ever since I was 13 I have loved you. The day we got together was the happiest day of my life. I have never known love like what we had. Not before you and not after you. I was a stupid kid. I was so scared and overwhelmed I didn’t know how to deal with all my feelings. I could stand here and give you excuses like what my dad said or how I was drugged up but the truth is that I betrayed you. I hurt you and I will never forgive myself for it.” His eyes never leave hers. He wants her to know that he means every word.

“I could also stand here and tell you how much I’ve changed but I’m sure you wouldn’t believe me because what I’m doing is selfish and so reminiscent of who I used to be.” She smiles a little at that and it eases his nerves. 

“I love you. I always will.” His voice cracks again, this time he doesn’t try to hide it. 

She’s looking at him, her lips slightly parted. She’s playing with her engagement ring and her eyes are glossy. 

“Please don’t marry him.”

[steveseddie]

limited time offer

steddie | rated: t | wc: 2,3 k | tags: vol. 2 missing scene, pre-relationship, eddie munson needs a hug, hurt/comfort

click here to read on ao3

Steve starts doing headcounts. 

After what happened with Max at the cemetery, Steve starts going over a list of names in his head, checking off each of his friends once he makes sure they haven’t been taken by Vecna- like ticking off boxes on a very fucked up grocery list.

He starts with Max every time. By now she has probably noticed the way his eyes constantly dart to her or the way he visibly relaxes when he notices the headphones still hanging from her neck, but at least she hasn’t said anything about it. 

Next is Nancy- the sight of her eyes rolled back into her head still too vivid in Steve’s mind. Then is Robin, Henderson, the Sinclairs-

After Skull Rock, Steve adds Eddie’s name to the list. He doesn’t know if they can be considered friends yet but he is part of their group now and Steve isn’t letting anyone else from his group almost die again at the hands of Vecna.

It’s only been a few minutes since Steve last did one of his headcounts- sitting outside the RV making homemade bombs.

But as the battle draws closer, Steve grows more and more anxious about losing one of his friends so after toasting to killing Vecna slash Henry slash One, Steve’s eyes roam the field where they’re preparing for battle while going over the list in his head.

Max and Nancy sawing off shotguns. Check. 

Robin pouring gasoline into a bottle. Check. 

The Sinclairs building spears. Check. 

Eddie and Dustin building shields- and sparring? Check. 

Steve breathes a little easier after that. 

His eyes linger on the last pair. He can’t hear what Eddie is telling Dustin but he can see the way they’re both smiling. 

That is until Dustin turns his attention back to his shield and Eddie’s face crumbles, his smile disappearing completely as his expression turns anxious and terrified. Steve watches as he takes a few shuddering breaths, his hands flexing at his sides. Even from a distance, Steve can tell they’re shaking. 

Steve sighs. He knows how hard it is- being hurled into this interdimensional monster fighting bullshit. This is Steve’s fourth time dealing with it and he can’t say that it gets any easier. And for his first time, Eddie already had it worse than any of them. He’s been alone for most of it and he also has people coming after him on top of everything. 

This whole time Steve has been waiting for him to snap, for him to say fuck it and run off, for him to start screaming or crying but he hasn’t done any of that. He’s still here- scared shitless but here, trying to put on a brave face. And Steve knows all about that so he can see right through Eddie’s act. What he doesn’t know is what to do about it. If this was one of the kids or Robin or even Nancy, Steve would know but he hardly knows Eddie and he doesn’t know what he needs. 

He looks like he needs a hug. Steve saw Eddie’s face when Henderson hugged him at Skull Rock, the relief written all over it. When the kid pulled back, Steve felt the urge to walk up to Eddie and hug him next, even if the only contact they’d had at that point was when Eddie pinned against the wall with a broken bottle to his neck.

Steve wanted to hug him again in the Upside Down- every time Eddie flinched or curled in on himself when Demobats screeched in the distance or lightning painted the sky red, but Steve was half-naked, covered in blood and goo and he didn’t think Eddie would appreciate any of that. 

He wanted to hug Eddie at Max’s house- trap his hands between their chests so he would stop running his fingers through his hair, scrubbing his hands down his face, aggressively wringing his fingers together so hard his knuckles cracked, but Eddie might’ve punched him for doing it in front of everyone when he’s supposed to be cool and metal.

He doesn’t look cool or metal right now. He looks on the verge of tears and Steve is shaking with how badly he wants to walk over there and hug him, tell him that everything will be okay but Steve has a job to do. 

They all do. 

Eddie seems to realize it at the same time. After one last shaky breath, he goes back to his shield, leaving Steve with no choice but to turn back to Robin and focus on his own task. 

***

It’s not until they’re getting ready to leave that Steve does another headcount. 

Max and Erica are inside the Winnebago, loading it up with weapons and supplies.

Nancy and Robin are going over the stages of their plan to make sure they thought of everything.

Sinclair and Henderson are trying the walkies, checking the batteries and making sure they’re on the right channel.

Eddie is-

Steve frowns, his eyes roaming the field one, two, three times but he still doesn’t see Eddie anywhere. 

Panic starts bubbling up inside him at the thought of anything happening to Eddie. 

Don’t go there, Steve tells himself. Maybe Eddie needed to take a piss and went to find a tree somewhere. Maybe he just needed a minute away from everyone.

Or maybe Vecna got to him. Maybe it’s already too late and Eddie is the fourth victim and all they did was for nothing.

He tries to remain calm as he looks for Eddie but his heart is beating frantically. He checks inside the RV first and when he realizes he isn’t there, he goes around it, planning to go into the woods next if he doesn’t find him there either. 

But he does- he finds him crouching on the ground with his back against the RV, his face buried in his hands, framed by a curtain of hair.

“Eddie?” Steve asks warily, still unsure if Eddie might be trapped by Vecna.

But then Eddie jumps, whipping his head up and staring at Steve with wide, scared eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington!” 

He holds his hands up in front of him. “Shit, sorry, I thought-”

“That Vecna got me?” Eddie scoffs. He taps his knuckles against his temple. “Nope, just me up here.” His hands fall to the space between his legs. They’re shaking. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, shoving his own hands in his pockets when he feels the urge to grab Eddie’s and hold them until they’re not shaking anymore. 

Eddie breathes out a humorless laugh. “Dude, I’m so fucking far from okay.”

Steve grimaces, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Right, of course, that was stupid.” 

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Eddie shakes his head. “No, not stupid, sorry. I’m just on edge, man. This whole monster fighting thing.” He waves his hand vaguely. “It ain’t for me.”

“I thought that’s what you did in that dorky game of yours,” Steve says, hoping to distract Eddie with a joke. 

Eddie snorts. “It’s really fucking different when you can actually, you know- die.”

“You’re not gonna die, Munson,” Steve says with a frown.

Eddie shakes his head repeatedly. “Oh, I have a baaad feeling, Stevie, a feeling that I ain’t gonna make it out-”

“Fuck that, man,” Steve hisses. The thought of something happening to Eddie or any of his friends making anger bubble up inside him. “You can’t think like that. We got this, okay?”

Eddie sighs, lifting his gaze to meet Steve’s eyes. “How do you do it, man?”

“Do what?”

“How are you so,” he gestures at Steve, “calm about this shit.”

“It’s not my first time,” Steve shrugs. “My first time I was scared shitless, but I made it out okay and you will too,” he says as confidently as he can, but Eddie doesn’t seem convinced. He’s no longer looking at Steve but down at his hands as he nervously wrings his fingers together, his leg bouncing rapidly. His hair falls like a curtain around his face but Steve can still see the tears gathering in his eyes. 

Eddie looks like he’s falling apart at the seams, and once again Steve wants to hug him. Only this time they’re alone, they’re not covered in blood or Upside Down goo and they’ve come a long way from Eddie trying to slash his neck open with a bottle so Steve thinks fuck it and takes a step forward. 

“Come here.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He frowns. “What?”

“Get up,” Steve says. Still frowning, Eddie pushes himself to his feet. “Now come here.”

“Where?”

“Here.” Steve holds his arms open and Eddie’s eyebrows disappear behind his bangs. “I’m giving you a hug.”

“You’re- what?”

Steve shuffles his feet. He feels stupid, standing there with his arms open while Eddie stares at him like he grew a second head. The back of his neck feels like it’s burning, the heat slowly spreading to his face. “You- you just look like you could use a hug.”

Eddie breathes out a startled laugh. “Holy shit, this is by far the strangest thing to have happened to me ever, and considering the days I just had, that’s saying something.”

“Munson,” Steve mutters but Eddie ignores him. 

“Steve Harrington wants to give me a hug?” Eddie gasps, clutching his chest. 

Steve huffs. “Yeah, and it’s a limited-time offer so are you gonna come here or are you gonna be a dick about it?”

“Well, if His Majesty insists,” Eddie jokes with a hand flourish but his tone lacks any lightheartedness. He’s nervous, fidgety. Despite his words, he hesitates, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. 

So Steve takes matters into his own hands. Literally. He closes the distance between them with two long strides, grabs Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him in.

Eddie goes stiff, and for a moment, Steve worries that he’ll pull back but then he lets out a soft noise and melts into Steve, shaky hands coming up to grab his waist. 

“You’re going to live, Eddie,” Steve whispers, one of his hands moving to cup the back of Eddie’s neck. He shudders in his arms. “We’re going to win and we’re all going to live, okay?”

Eddie tucks his face into his neck. It’s Steve who shudders this time. “If you say so, Stevie.”

Steve makes a stubborn noise. “I do,” he says, squeezing Eddie a little tighter. He ignores the whine Eddie lets out or how it makes something hot burn in his belly. He focuses on Eddie’s arms wrapping around his waist instead- like he fears Steve might pull away. 

He doesn’t.

“You just have to trust me, okay?” Steve says, absently playing with the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck, feeling him go limp in his arms. Pride surges through Steve at being right. Eddie clearly needed a hug. 

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, sounding a little more confident. 

Neither of them let go. They stay like that for a while, just holding each other, Steve’s fingers still moving in Eddie’s hair. 

“Steve?” Eddie says, breaking the silence after a few minutes. 

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what? You’re a good hugger, dude, I’m enjoying myself,” Steve teases but the truth is that he means it. He likes hugging Eddie, he wishes he didn’t wait this long to do it or that he didn’t need to let go of him soon, before their friends come looking for them. He knows what Robin will say if she finds them like this- she has yet to shut up about Eddie calling Steve big boy and how Steve momentarily forgot how to function because of it.

He forgets how to function now when Eddie giggles, his breath tickling Steve’s neck. “You keep surprising me, Harrington.”

“Get used to it, Munson,” he says as he finally, regrettably, pulls back. He keeps his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “’Cause you’re stuck with me, man.”

Eddie blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, squeezing his shoulders. He gets an idea. “After we’re done, I’m taking you out for a drink. I think we’ll both need one.”

A smile plays at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. He seems infinitely more relaxed now than he did when Steve found him. “What- like a date?” He asks, clearly trying to make a joke even if his eyes dart a little nervously over Steve’s face.

Already missing the way Eddie’s arms felt around his waist or how his fingers felt in Eddie’s hair, Steve stops himself from brushing it off as a joke. He can’t, not when the idea of going on a date with Eddie makes his stomach fill with butterflies. With a smirk, he shrugs. “Guess you’re just gonna have to live long enough to find out?”

A nearly hysterical laugh bursts out of Eddie but his eyes sparkle like the idea of going out on a date with Steve doesn’t make him want to run off into the woods. “Guess so, big boy,” he says, making Steve’s cheeks heat up. “Let’s go make that Vecna fucker pay then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with a big grin. “Let’s kill that son of a bitch.”

And with that, they head back to their friends. Eddie isn’t okay, he probably won’t be until this is over but now there’s a spring in his step and his hands aren’t shaking anymore.

And when his eyes meet Steve’s on the rearview mirror as he drives them to the Creel house, Eddie gives him a big dimpled smile- the first one to reach his eyes since they found him in that boat house. 

Steve is happy to have hugged him. He can’t wait to do it again- because he needs it, because they made it or just because this time. And then hopefully many times after that. 

[nostalgicmiscellaneous]

So, what are your favorite Polin little moments? Some of mine: 1- Colin coming back for more in their first kiss; 2- These mean bitches laughing at the crying Lord losing his love, the horse; 3- How awkward these fools were acting and apologising, plus Colin wanting an essay on why exactly they couldn't continue their ~lessons~...lol;

4- His jealous face when she says Debling is pleasant to look at and the body language during the sweet scene, and when he ate the sweet; 5- How much he despised Lord Lettuce ( i like you, Deblling, but i'm channeling Colin), side eyeing the man all the time; 6- His unhinged behavior interrupting the dance and roasting Debling. You cannot marry him!!! You just know that man has a dart game with his picture on it; 7- The despair to know and the little, tiny hint of a smile when Pen tells him Lord Debling did not propose to her; 8- Pen's bravery and awe at touching his hair, and his face when she does; 9 -Horny Polin & the tale of the magic boobs & talented fingers...; 10- His realization and determined decision ( i love Luke' s expression here, he says everything with his face & eyes) "I'm gonna wife the shit out of you". There is nothing hasty here, he already loved her, he just now knew he could also desire her more than anyone else and how much he did. Colin always decides things quickly; 11 - Fixing her, with so much tenderness and respect, and admiration; 12- The proposal and Pen's incredulous expression ( thank you Nic) until it morphs into extraordinary happiness - the type only youth dreams that come true can give you - when actually clicks he asked her to marry him. Bonus: So, did Colin slip some money to their carriage drivers? Bribe them, just like the maid, because these mofos heard it all.

[damiansgoodgirll]

please do damian cheating on reader!😩❤️

y’all want to cry i see 🤓🤓

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed!

‼️ mention of sex, pregnancy, anxiety, infidelity and cheating, angst, body shaming, body issues, reader being self conscious

don’t hurt yourself

“i’m trying to save our family y/n!” damian screamed desperate, staring at the marriage counselor in front of him. she was watching with a deep look the scene in front of her. it wasn’t anything new to her but the way you both were behaving was making it hard for her to help.

“sure…you should have thought about that before fucking someone else damian…” you said, tears already dry.

one month ago

damian just came back from his wrestlemania trip. you would have loved to go but six months ago, you gave birth to your first baby and it was all new for you. you were still trying to get adjusted by how your body looked, how tired you constantly were and how scary the world suddenly became since you had your baby.

damian wanted you to go but he knew you didn’t trust anyone to babysit your daughter for so many days, so he didn’t force you.

the pregnancy changed your relationship a little bit, and, even if damian didn’t want to show it, it was affecting him a little.

it was your first pregnancy so he understood but still, he couldn’t get away from the feeling that something changed.

you became more paranoid, always scolding him for silly things, your mood was on a rollercoaster and the lack of sex between the two of you kept him on edge. your doctor told you that it was completely fine having sex during pregnancy but your anxiety made it impossible for you to have sexual contact with him. you tried and tried but you always had to stop him because it was hurting you.

damian always respected that but he couldn’t lie if he said that it wasn’t effecting him too. the whole nine months of your pregnancy, he felt like he was pregnant too.

he thought it would get better once your daughter was born but he was wrong.

you became more self conscious about your body, the way you looked and the struggle to keep a nice appearance up was hurting you. he didn’t know how to keep up with all of that.

he let himself go the night after he won at wrestlemania. he was partying and he was drunk and he didn’t want that, but, somehow he found himself naked, sleeping next to a complete stranger.

when he woke up his head was hurting but his heart almost stopped when he saw her, the stranger, sleeping naked next to him.

“no no no…” he whispered. he felt his heart breaking.

“good morning…” she whispered waking up. damian watched horrified the way she kissed his chest, only stopping at his lips when she saw the paralysed face he had “did you have fun last night?” she asked “or are you already regretting it?”

“what…how? i-i don’t remember…”

“you’re hurting me saying that you don’t remember our night together” she said, faking being hurt “you don’t remember what happened?”

“no…this, this shouldn’t have happened”

“but it happened damian…and it was too good” she said, smile on her face, remembering how good everything felt “you came up to me at the bar last night, you said how good i looked, how much you wanted to fuck me…then you went talking about how unhappy your marriage was becoming, how unhappy your little wife is, how ugly she think she is, witch, frankly, she’s quite right…you should give her some exercises to do to lose that baby weight she still carries by the way…” the stranger started blurting out “then you got quite boring so i had to shut you up with a kiss. that kiss definitely became something more, judging by the way we are both naked under the covers…” she smirked but all damian wanted to do was to vomit and hide away.

he couldn’t believe he just cheated on you.

he couldn’t believe he rambled to a complete stranger about your marriage, about you. your wedding wasn’t unhappy, sure things changed after your daughter was born and you both needed to work better on this whole family thing but he wasn’t unhappy with you.

he loved you and your daughter isabel more than anything.

“i need to go…” he said not remembering her name.

“sheila, my name’s sheila…” she smiled at him.

he quickly dressed up, took his bags and went straight at the airport, all he wanted to do was to stay with you and isabel, and hold you all night long.

rhea knew something was up the moment she saw damian’s face at the airport.

“man, you okay?” she asked him.

“i fucked up rhea…i fucked up” he said.

“what you mean?”

“i-i i can’t even say it…” he whispered “i slept with someone”

“what the fuck are you saying damian?” rhea almost screamed.

she was your best friend. the person who always stayed by your side during the whole pregnancy. maybe she wasn’t a mother but she understood what you were feeling, probably more than damian did. she understood your fears and never judged you. she stayed with you before you gave birth and right after it. she comforted you when damian didn’t, she held you while you cried your problems to her, too afraid of being rejected by the man you loved. she reassured you when you told her you felt ugly, when you told her that you wanted to change your appearance because you didn’t recognise yourself anymore.

she was there for you and you were always there for her, so, damian telling her that he just cheated on you, was a low blow.

“i’m so fucking sorry rhea…i don’t know how it happened” he said, regret evidently showing in his eyes.

“she needs to know” was all rhea said.

“don’t give the treatment silent rhea…please, i can’t handle it right now”

“what do you want to say? congratulations on cheating on my best friend? congratulations on cheating on your wife and mother of your daughter? that’s what you want me to say? i can’t even imagine what she’s going to feel when you tell her, she needs to know damian” rhea said before boarding flight.

the whole flight home damian thought about how to tell you that he cheated.

how can you tell the person you love the most that you just cheated?

his heart broke the moment he stepped inside your home.

you coming to greet him with isabel in your arms “isabel look, daddy’s home” you softly said smiling at him.

“where’s my big girl?” damian said pretending everything’s fine. he noticed how isabel wanted to be held by him so he gently took her from y/n’s arms and started rocking her.

“she missed you a lot” you said watching the sweet scene in front of you.

“and you didn’t?” he smirked.

“a lot” you smiled back “i’m so proud of you baby” you congratulated him and he smiled at you.

he took time after he came back home. he put isabel to sleep, he unpacked his bags, he took a long shower and he made love to you, hoping that in his mind, he could cancel his irreparable mistake.

a week passed and you couldn’t help but notice something was wrong. damian’s behaviour changed, he was more present and constant with his role - not that you minded but it wasn’t like him.

“what’s going on?” you asked one night after you put your daughter to sleep.

“what you mean?”

“i mean, what’s wrong? you’ve changed…after wrestlemania…something happened but i can’t figure out what” you said staring at him.

“i cheated…” he whispered.

you froze.

“you what?”

“i…i cheated i’m so fucking sorry y/n…i didn’t know how it happened, i didn’t want it to happen” he apologised, a few tears running down his cheeks.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. he just cheated on you. the man you loved, the man you married, the man you just started a family with just cheated on you.

“please say something…” he begged you.

tears falling down your face, your heart breaking in millions of pieces “what do you want me to say damian?” you sarcastically laughed “i just - i need some fresh air right now, i can’t even stand to be in the same room as you damian…isabel is sleeping in her room…”

“where are you going?” he asked you when he saw grabbing your car kids.

“away, i need to stay away from you right now” you said, more tears falling from your eyes.

“please…please don’t go…i’ll do anything, anything to gain your trust again…i’m so fucking sorry y/n” his eyes full of tears but you couldn’t be in the same room as him right now.

“i don’t care how sorry you are damian, i don’t give a shit. you want me to stay? fine. then you can go away, i don’t need you in this home, not right now damian…you just thrown away four years of marriage…we have a daughter, a daughter together…she’s only six months damian, how could you?” you cried all of your tears, not caring if you were screaming right now.

“i-i’m so sorry…”

“i don’t care! stop saying you’re sorry! i don’t give a shit! why? why did you do it?” you asked him.

“i-i don’t know…i was drunk okay? it was right after i won the title, i…was celebrating and - shit - i got drunk and you weren’t there”

“so now it’s my fault?”

“no…no, it’s not your fault y/n, that’s not what i said…” he tried to explain himself but only making it worse “it’s me, i’m the one who fucked up and you have no idea how sorry i am…i fucking love you and isabel more than anything, i love you so much y/n, i just made a huge mistake and”

“fucking someone else is not a mistake, it’s a choice…it’s a choice you made!” you kept screaming.

damian swore he never saw you so mad. you were usually the calm one in the relationship so seeing you so mad and angry was unusual for him.

“i know…i know and i’m…”

“don’t fucking say you’re sorry, don’t you dare damian…” you warned him “i can’t stay here with you right now, i can’t even look at you without feeling disgusted” you words broke his heart even more “you either go away or i take isabel and we’re going away…”

“don’t do this please…”

“you’re not giving me any choice damian…you made your choice that night, now you’re facing the consequences…it’s you or me and isabel, we can’t stay here all together like the happy family you want me to pretend to be…” you slowly dried your tears away.

“o-okay…i’ll go…but please, please, we can work this out together…please, i’m begging you y/n…i can’t lose you…” he said before leaving the house.

while he cried driving towards the hotel he just booked, you cried yourself to sleep, holding his pillow, and letting yourself fall asleep.

[igotanidea]

Not trying: Dick Grayson x reader

She was not trying to get his attention.

And anyone who would even come as close as to suggest that, was being scoffed at, almost laughed at, and brushed off using the classic argument of her being too busy to deal with stupid gossip.

But people were not stupid.

And definitely not the GCPD detectives and officers, of which Y/N had the pleasure to be one.

There was no way to miss the days when she was dressing differently, trying to look pretty. Days that happened to be the ones when Dick was having an office duty and wasn’t on field.

Days when she was sad and internally calling herself off when it turned out he took an unexpected day off or something kept him outside the precinct.

Days when she was faking a smile just so he wouldn’t think she was weak or something.

She was not weak.

She was human.

And in this particular case, being human came with falling in love out of the blue with the guy that couldn't care less, because –spoiler alert!- you cannot possibly plan love.

So she was hurting and cursing that part of her that made her keep on trying over and over again.

Spending days at work, full of energy not trying to get his attention, and evenings in front of TV wishing and praying for this hope to just go away and never come back. It was simply heartbreaking to have it regrow every morning just to tear it away at the end of the day.

Like freaking Prometheus with his liver.

But there was one thing similar between them.

They both suffered because of love for humanity – or in her case – one particular human.

***

It was like that for months now, and finally, all those self-doubts and sadness took over her completely.

So at work, she was avoiding people. She closed herself in her office, deciding to put that teary attitude to use to do some cleaning and remove old files.

Clean space, clean head right?

And those tears that finally started falling down her cheeks were definitely going to be helpful with dusting.

She was crying at work.

How pathetic was that?

But it was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

But now that she'd finally let her tears out, she couldn't stop, as though it was a build-up of all the times she'd held the tears in and her body just wasn't having it anymore.

And since life has a tendency to play mean tricks on people, the moment when she looked like a panda with smudged mascara and red nose that would put Rudolph the Red-nosed reindeer to shame was the exact moment her office door opened with a loud thud and the Chief walked inside.

“Y/L/N. You good?” he muttered, torn between his boss-like attitude and sudden awkwardness upon seeing one of his best detectives in such a state.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m perfect. Why?”

“Um…” the man looked at her dirty, teary face that was speaking for itself. “No reason at all. At all.”

“Is there anything I can do for you,” she inquired as she grabbed some tissues and wiped the stains away – or so she thought – actually making it worse.

“We got a crime scene. You’re going.”

Little did she know, her boss was having second and third and even fourth thoughts about putting her into investigation in this state, but no one else was available. And – to add to his desperation – the first clues were pointing to the crime of vengeance which were her specialty.

“Great. I’m coming.” She instinctively grabbed her gun from the shelf, but before it ended in her holster the boss capably took it from her, shaking his head.

“No.”

“But-“

“Y/L/N this is an order. You are not to take it.”

“But how am I supposed to-?”

“You can take Grayson.”

“WHAT!?”

“In fact, you both will be assigned to this case. This boy needs to get his head out of his ass. Maybe you’ll be the one to teach him some humility.”

“Huh. Yeah…” she stuttered with the greatest amount of sarcasm in her head. Because the woman who was In love with a man was definitely not going to add to his ego, even if only subconsciously. 

***

“Y/N!” Dick grinned, which would probably be a little less weird if he was not standing in front of a dead body.

“Grayson,” she muttered, sticking hands in her pockets, putting on the most indifferent face expression possible.

“You look different” he looked at her with an insightful look.

“Now that’s quite an observation, detective.” She mocked back. Anyone would notice her make-up less state, bloodshot eyes, disheveled clothes,  and messy hair.

“Were you busy in that little office of yours?”

“The hell, Grayson?!” Y/N instinctively reached for the gun, but obviously did not find it and sighed in frustration. Screw her boss.

“Whoa! No need to get defensive. You just look a little – I don’t know – left high and dry?”

“I swear to God, if you don’t cut that bullshit, you’ll be the next one ending up in a body bag.”

“You wanna come at me, detective?” he smirked.

“Why am I being punished with working with you…” She grabbed the bridge of her nose, squeezing it, sensing the massive migraine coming.

“Cause you’re clearly the only one who can make me get my head out of my ass.”

“Nice. Chief told you that too?”

“Nah, I just bugged your office.”

“You do realize that’s illegal, right?”

“I’ve been authorized.”

“Oh yeah? By who?”

“By my human instincts and care for my friend.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it in a gesture that was supposed to be reassuring. “You’ve been sad lately and –” the brush of his hand on hers made her shiver and – despite everything she did not want to do – take a step back.

“Let’s focus on work shall we?” She moved to talk to the CSI and technicians to get details about the traces and the technicalities.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” He shrugged “But you are boring!”

She was not boring, merely trying to save herself from any more possible heartbreak – or worse – ridicule.

***

A few weeks later, with the investigation still on, they were both buried to their necks in paperwork, searching for dots and connections and any possible explanations and seemingly invisible tracks their culprit may have left.

And working together involved late nights spent together at the precinct, countless nights of Chinese takeout and getting closer, which was both a curse and a blessing.

Blessing because she learned a lot of little details about him. Like for example that he wasn’t just the son of a billionaire who was playing a cop. Like how he actually wanted to separate himself, make a name for himself and not be only known as “the adoptive alumni of Bruce Wayne.” Like underneath all that goofy act he was actually deeply caring and involved in his work, in helping people and making the city a safer place. Like his eyes were sparkling every time he mentioned his siblings or how his mouth twitched in restrained laughter when she said something that was sarcastically funny.

And a curse, because all those little details only made her fall for him harder. And even if she skipped on that not-trying-to-look-pretty act, because investigation took much more of her time and effort, the longing was still there.

“So, what is that big brain of yours telling you about this?” he asked, throwing her off her thought that at the moment had little to do with the crime.

“About what?” she muttered, trying to figure out what he was talking about for the last couple minutes before she spaced out.

“The newest evidence obviously!” Dick laughed, rummaging through his box of beef Chinese, putting his feet on the desk.

“Hey, watch out!” Her first reaction was rushing to save the documents from the inevitable sweet and sour sauce stains.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s not like I’m going to mess anything up here.” The chopsticks were thrown up with undeniable capability, swirled in the air and landed back in his hand without any damages done to the files. “See?”

“Show off.”

“And yet, this show off made you distracted, didn’t he,” Dick asked as he leaned forward, meeting her eyes.

Too close!

“For the record—” she started and then her eyes grew wide as a sudden realization hit her. A second later, she was throwing the papers away in a haste to get to something.

“Hey! Whoa! Y/N! What-?”

“Shut up, Grayson!”

“Shit, I really have to set you up with my brother Jason. He needs a girl in his life and you two will bound hard over the love of telling me to cut on the talking and-“

“I said shut up, Grayson!” a bunch of papers hit his face. She couldn’t even bring herself to care that the man she was in love with wanted to set her up with his brother. She just figured out the entire case. All hecause of a pair of chopsticks having been thrown into the air.

“What are you looking for?”

“Here!” she exclaimed happily pointing at some pictures from the crime scenes and an alleged instrument of crime.  “See? We were wrong all along! From the very beginning. This is why he never left any traces!”

“What are you talking about? I don’t-“

“Hush. You don’t need to understand a single thing. Just grab your gun and badge and follow me. Come on, pretty boy, we don’t have much time and I know exactly where we’ll get the perpetrator.”

Dick could only stand there in his feet rooted to the ground, watching Y/N figuring the whole case out, the wheels in her brains turning faster than a race car, face flushing from excitement, pupils dilating.

Pretty and smart, even with her hair in a messy bun and plain clothes on. Or maybe – especially because of that, since jeans and t-shirts could never suppress her natural beauty?

“Grayson! Come on! Don’t freeze on me!”

“Coming,” he replied as her voice slowly reached his ears. He realized there was no way he was going to let her go anywhere alone. Even if he couldn’t understand a single thing from her rambling and running around, the least he could do was to keep her safe.

***

“Are you absolutely sure about it?”

“Are you chickening out?”

“Your hands are shaking, Y/N.”

“That’s why you are the one with a gun.”

“And killer fighting skills.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“That tone of sarcasm is completely unnecessary, you know. And after we are done please do remind me to introduce you to Jason—”

“Don’t you ever shut up?”

“Don’t you know the answer to that by now?”

Y/N sighed deeply in frustration, fighting the urge to curse at him with the strongest cursing words known to humans. And maybe even inventing a few by herself.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you sure that-?”

“Hush!” she put a palm to his mouth, noticing some movement in front of the house they were currently observing from the camouflaged car. “See that? Told you I was fucking right!”

“There’s no need to brag, you know.” He muttered, his voice muffled due to her hand still on his face.

“Admit it.”

“Admit what?” He looked at her with an incredulous look.

“That I was right.”

“Well for the record, I was the one who made you come into a conclusion-“

“Un-fucking-believable.”

She swiftly left the car, abandoning her need to hear the praise from him to the benefit of catching the culprit that has been invading her waking and sleeping hours alike. She was not going to beg for attention, this time for real, sneaking to the house the criminal ring was clearly having some sort of meeting.

And then, there was the one. Looking like a regular person, even if he was exceptionally handsome, but rotten to the core.

“See? That’s the one who-. Dick?” Y/N turned around, but not spotting her partner anywhere. Fuck! Really?! He was leaving her now?! Of all the times and places?! Now?! Was he really so jealous and self-conceited to not help her finish their joint case?

And here she was, thinking she saw something special in him. Something hidden under the surface.

Stupid heart. After all this time they spent together, seemingly building something, she was right back to the beginning, when she was not trying.

And what was she supposed to do now?

Coming inside alone? Reckless.

Calling for freaking SWAT teams? Before they would get here, the meeting of criminals would be over.

Wait till it was over and chase the leader alone?

Listen to their plan and use it later on?

She was a detective with skills, but not a spy!

And she made that one rookie mistake when leaning too much upwards she was seen.

“Hey! There’s someone outside the window!”

“Oh great…” she muttered and only a quick duck saved her head from being hurt from all the glass shattering due to the bullet fired in her direction.

“Get her! She could be a cop!”

The four men broke from the table, grabber whatever weapons they possibly could and rushed right after her.

“Fuck!” She took off running because despite her agility, speed, and quick thinking she physically was no match to the tank-like men. “Fuck you, boss for taking away my gun permissions!” She hissed to herself, running away. “Fuck you Grayson for leaving me alone! I can’t believe I fell for you!”

“You fell for me?” a familiar teasing voice echoed somewhere from behind, but nowhere to be seen.

And it made her stop.

“Dick?” She turned around to search for him.

And it was another mistake.

An iron grip on her arm and sudden harsh yank back serving as a perfect example of her stupidity.

“I got our little bird.” One of the men laughed maliciously.

“Well, I am not exactly little,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. Her only chance was to tread carefully and hope that stupid fucking Grayson will figure out a way out of this mess. Stupid fucking hope that got her in said mess in the first place.

“Huh?” the goon frowned.

“I said-“

“Let the lady go.” Y/N’s words were cut off abruptly by something that seemed like Dick’s voice, but a little more… distorted?

The hell was going on here?

“I really do advise you to let the lady go.” The same voice said again.

“Oh yeah? And who’s asking me to do so? Show your face unless you are all talk.”

“Seeing me only comes once for certain people. And believe me when I say that most of those encounters end up bad when you cross paths with me.”

A man’s silhouette emerged from a few meters ahead, covered by the darkness of the night. At least at first. But as he moved closer, both Y/N and the goon froze, though either of them for a different reason.

“Shit,” she muttered.

“Nightwing,” the goon hissed, tightening the grip on Y/N.

“Hello to you both. Wonderful night we are having, aren’t we?”

“I could argue with that-“ Y/N rolled her eyes. She was definitely going to have bruises tomorrow. That was, if the most talkative of the city's vigilantes wouldn’t actually cause her to end up dead. 

“Congratulations Nightwing, you got me. But there are much more of us in-“

“In that little hiding spot that’s not even properly hidden? Not sorry to break it to you, but Robin and Red Hood are currently dealing with them.”

“Huh?”

“Not very smart, are you?”

“Hey!”

As the goon was getting distracted, Nightwing (?) sent Y/N a very familiar, discreet look and she nodded almost immediately, and suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle formed one clear picture.

“He’s right, you know. You are not very smart,” she picked up the tone immediately.

“Hey!”

“She is a cop,” Nightwing pointed out.

“She is?”

“Yeah, I am. And since I saw your face, I can absolutely guarantee you, I won’t stop until you are behind bars. Unless-“

“Unless obviously you surrender willingly. Maybe then she can strike a bargain for you?”

“That might actually be a possibility,” Y/N teased. “But I’m not sure. Do you think our fella here deserves to be treated lightly, Nightwing?”

“I’m not sure. Are you hurt, Y/N?”

“Can’t lie that my arm is getting a little sore here. If he keeps holding me like this we might also charge him with violation of physical integrity. That’s 3 to 5 years, I believe?”

“And in this case we’re dealing with assault on a public official. Quite an incriminating circumstance.”

“So what do you think, maximum penalty?”

“And the conspiring charges too.”

“And the murder involvement.”

“I say 15 if not more.”

“I’d say more.”

“You wanna bet?” Nightwing smirked.

“I had nothing to do with the murder!” The goon got a little overwhelmed by the quick-paced exchange of words, of which he couldn’t comprehend half of them, loosening the grip on Y/N. And she was quick to use it against him, finding her leverage in using four sensitive spots to knock the man down.

Half an hour later all four men involved were handcuffed and escorted to the police station. 

And after Y/N made her official oral deposition with a promise to submit a written report first thing in the morning, she was finally left alone for a moment of peace.

“Did you really use that Miss Agent trick?”

“It worked didn’t it?” she crossed arms on her chest, looking at Nightwing in a mocking way, without any sympathy at all.

“You know, most of the ladies I know would be at least a little grateful for me saving them.”

“Mhm. That would actually involve the saving part.”

“Let’s check. You are breathing. You are intact. Clearly neither your tongue nor your brain got damaged. Looks quite saved to me.”

“You left me!”  

“For five minutes! Not my fault you are so terrible at self-defense!”

“Not my fault you are terrible at being open with such secrets!”

“It was to protect you!”

“Dick…” she sighed heavily, daring to whisper his name.

“Y/N…” he responded, taking a few steps forward, taking her hand in the same gesture he did all those weeks ago when they started working this case together.

“I thought we were partners? At work” she added quickly

“You fell for me,” he asks, the left corner of his mouth traveling up.

“Oh, now you have a good memory?”

“Did you?”

“NO!”

“Really? No? That's your final answer. Or maybe it’s not,” he pulled her closer and wrapped arms around her waist, preventing her from running away again.

“Yes. I mean, no! I mean- damn it…”

“So, if I were to commit the act of violating the physical integrity of a public official...” he leaned forwards. “what would you say Y/N?”

“What happened to me meeting your brother?”

“I said you have to meet him. Never said why.”

“Oh? And why?” she smirked looking from above his arm to check if they were alone.

“To make him jealous, obviously.”

She chuckled softly, checking the surroundings once more, before slowly reaching to remove his mask and meeting those pretty blue eyes and familiar face.

“Hello there.”

“Hello to you too.”

Their lips were now inches away from each other.

“Which brother are we talking about? Red Hood? Heard he’s hot…”

“Do you ever shut up?” Dick grinned before leaning forward and finally capturing those lips he’s been dreaming about for weeks now.

And kissing her was effortless.

Like he was not trying at all.

[chelseaknoo]

25 days with Eminem

Eminem x reader

Day 4

Night had fallen, and the warm glow of the living room lights illuminated the space as you, Marshall, Hailie, Alaina, Stevie, and little Jackie gathered around on the plush carpet. The Christmas classic Elf played on the TV, filling the room with laughter and holiday cheer. Jackie was crawling around, babbling happily, occasionally plopping onto his padded bottom and giggling whenever someone made a funny face or played with him.

The snow outside fell heavily, blanketing everything in a thick, white layer. The wind howled, rattling the windows now and then, but none of you paid it much attention. Despite hearing the news of a massive snowstorm earlier that day, everyone figured it would pass by without much trouble.

“Buddy the Elf, what’s your favorite color?” Hailie quoted along with the movie, laughing as she tossed a pillow at Alaina.

“Green, obviously,” Alaina joked, dodging the pillow and throwing it back. “Honestly, I forgot how funny this movie is.”

“It never gets old,” Stevie said, leaning back against the couch. “I think I’ve seen it like ten times, and I still laugh every time.”

Marshall sat cross-legged on the floor, holding Jackie up so he could bounce on his little legs. “Jackie’s loving it too,” he said with a grin. “Aren’t you, buddy? You’re already a Will Ferrell fan.”

Jackie giggled, his tiny hands reaching for Marshall’s face. You watched the scene with a soft smile, feeling content. This was exactly what Christmas was about—family, laughter, and making memories.

“I love nights like this,” you said, leaning into Marshall. “No stress, just us hanging out and enjoying the moment.”

“Same,” Marshall agreed, wrapping an arm around you. “We don’t get enough of these.”

Just then, a loud *whoosh* of wind hit the house, making the windows creak. The lights flickered once, then twice.

“Oh no,” Hailie muttered, looking up. “Did anyone else see that?”

“It’s probably just the wind,” Alaina said, though her voice was a little uncertain. “Happens all the time during storms.”

But before anyone could respond, the lights flickered again—and this time, they didn’t come back on. The room was plunged into darkness.

“Seriously?” Stevie groaned. “Again?!”

A chorus of frustrated sighs filled the room. Jackie let out a startled cry, his pacifier falling from his mouth as he clung to Marshall.

“Shh, it’s okay, Jackie,” you soothed, taking him from Marshall and rocking him gently. “It’s just the lights. Everything’s fine.”

“Fine?” Hailie said, her voice rising slightly. “We’re in the middle of a snowstorm, and now we have no power!”

“Calm down,” Marshall said, standing up. “It’s probably just a blown fuse. I’ll check the breaker box.”

“I’m coming with you,” Stevie said, grabbing her phone for light.

As they disappeared down the hallway, Alaina wrapped a blanket around herself. “This is not how I imagined tonight going,” she muttered.

“Me neither,” you admitted, bouncing Jackie on your hip. “And we didn’t exactly stock up on supplies either. We’ve got, what? A few snacks and whatever’s in the fridge?”

Hailie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, we didn’t prep for this at all. We didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“We’ll figure it out,” you said, trying to stay calm. “We’ve dealt with worse.”

Just then, Marshall and Stevie returned, both looking grim.

“Bad news,” Marshall announced, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not the breaker. Looks like the whole block’s out.”

“And with this storm, who knows how long it’ll take to get the power back,” Stevie added.

“Great,” Hailie muttered, pacing. “No power, no food, and we’re snowed in. This is a disaster.”

“We’re not out of options,” Marshall said, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ve got the fireplace for heat, candles for light, and we’ll make do with what we have.”

“And Jackie?” Alaina asked. “He needs his formula warmed up.”

“We’ll figure it out,” you said firmly. “We can heat water over the fireplace if we need to.”

Jackie whimpered softly, sensing the tension. Marshall reached over, taking him into his arms. “Hey, buddy, don’t worry. Daddy’s got this. We’re gonna be just fine.”

Despite his calm tone, you could see the concern in his eyes. None of you were prepared for this storm, and now you were stuck in the middle of it with no idea how long it would last.

“Alright,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s start lighting some candles and get the fireplace going. We’ll make a plan from there.”

Everyone nodded, moving into action. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling settling in your chest. This storm was far worse than anyone had anticipated—and it was only just beginning.

The idea struck you as everyone moved about the dimly lit room: maybe the storm hadn’t reached its worst yet. Sure, the power was out, but the roads might still be manageable. You glanced at the others huddled around the fireplace, Jackie now calm and cozy in Marshall’s arms, and the girls quietly lighting more candles.

“We can’t just sit here and wait this out without food,” you said, grabbing your coat. “Maybe it’s not that bad outside. We might still be able to make a quick run for groceries.”

Marshall looked up, brow furrowing. “You really think that’s a good idea? Have you seen how hard it’s snowing?”

“It’s worth checking,” you replied, determination in your voice. “I’ll just open the door, see how it looks. If it’s not too bad, maybe one of us can drive to the store.”

Hailie shook her head, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I don’t know, Mom. The news said it was gonna be really bad.”

Alaina added, “And what if you get stuck out there? We don’t even know how deep the snow is.”

Stevie leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Let her check. Worst case, we stay put. But if it’s clear enough, at least we’ll have options.”

Marshall sighed, standing up and passing Jackie to Hailie. “Fine. But I’m coming with you to the door. If it’s bad, you’re not going out there, no arguments.”

“Deal,” you said, slipping your boots on and zipping up your coat. You grabbed a flashlight from the counter and walked with Marshall toward the front door.

As you reached the door, you glanced back at the family. “Stay here. We’ll be back in a minute.”

With a deep breath, you unlocked the door and gave it a push. At first, it barely budged. You shoved harder, and suddenly, a cold blast of air rushed in along with something else—snow.

“Whoa!” Marshall exclaimed, stepping back just in time to avoid the avalanche of snow that tumbled inside.

Your mouth fell open in shock. The door wasn’t just blocked—it was buried. A solid wall of snow, at least four feet high, loomed in front of you. Some of it had already spilled onto the floor, forming a pile in the entryway.

“What the hell…” you whispered, shining the flashlight over the towering drift. The beam barely penetrated the icy mass.

“Holy—” Marshall stopped himself, running a hand through his hair. “That’s insane. We’re completely snowed in.”

From the living room, Hailie called out, “What’s going on? Is it bad?”

“Bad?” Marshall echoed, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s worse than bad. We’re trapped.”

“Trapped?” Stevie repeated, appearing at the doorway. Her eyes widened at the sight of the snow. “Oh my God. We can’t even leave?”

“Not unless you’ve got a shovel the size of a bulldozer,” Marshall muttered. “This is bad. Real bad.”

Alaina and Hailie hurried over, their faces pale as they took in the scene.

“We’re completely snowed in,” you confirmed, your voice shaky. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Jackie started crying in the background, sensing the tension. Hailie turned back to him, trying to soothe him. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. We’re fine,” she murmured, though her voice wavered.

“What do we do now?” Alaina asked, her voice rising in panic. “We don’t have food, the power’s out, and we’re stuck!”

“We’ll figure it out,” you said firmly, though you weren’t entirely sure how. “We’ve got some supplies, and we can make it work. Let’s just stay calm.”

Marshall closed the door, brushing snow off his hands. “First thing’s first: we block off this door to keep the cold out. Then we’ll take inventory of everything we’ve got.”

Stevie nodded. “I’ll help with that. We’ve got to make it last until the storm lets up.”

“We’re going to get through this,” you said, forcing a smile. “We have each other. We’ll make it work.”

Marshall wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “We’ve been through worse. We’ve got this. Together.”

Despite his reassuring words, the wall of snow outside lingered in your mind, a daunting reminder of just how isolated you now were. The storm wasn’t just bad—it was a force to be reckoned with. And you all had to be ready for whatever came next.

An hour passed since you’d discovered the severity of the storm, and the atmosphere in the house had taken a noticeable shift. The initial shock of being snowed in had worn off, and now, everyone was just kind of… *stuck*. No power, no internet, no way to watch TV. Just the sound of the wind howling outside and the crackling of the fireplace to keep you company.

You sat on the couch, Jackie in your lap, while Marshall stood by the window, peering out through the curtains. The snow was coming down harder than ever, and the visibility was practically nonexistent.

“Well, this is… fun,” Alaina said sarcastically, flopping down on the couch beside you. She pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders, her eyes flicking between the clock on the wall and the door. “I thought this was supposed to be a nice cozy Christmas. Now it feels like we're stuck in some survival movie.”

“I know,” Hailie agreed, her eyes scanning the room. “We’re like… a snowed-in family on Christmas Eve with no escape. No phones, no internet, and no one can go anywhere.” She shot a pointed look at Marshall. “And who knew a snowstorm would come out of nowhere like this? All the reports said it was just going to be some light snow.”

Marshall shrugged, glancing at the window again. “Well, I guess the weather people were wrong. Who knew the storm would be this bad?”

Stevie, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolled her eyes dramatically. “I feel like a prisoner here,” she said, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. “No signal, no power, and no entertainment. I’m about to go stir-crazy.”

“You and me both,” Hailie added with a frustrated sigh. “It’s like we're in the middle of nowhere, and it’s not even cozy anymore. It’s just… cold and dark and *boring*.”

You smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, hey, I don’t think we’re that bad off. We’ve got heat, we’ve got food—well, some food—and we’ve got each other.” You glanced down at Jackie, who was happily playing with his stuffed animal, blissfully unaware of the stress in the room. “And we’ve got this little guy to keep us entertained.”

Marshall nodded, his voice more upbeat. “Yeah, but after an hour of sitting here, we’re all going to start climbing the walls if we don’t find something to do. Anyone got any ideas?”

The room fell silent for a moment. The sound of the storm outside filled the void. Then, Stevie spoke up, her face scrunched in thought.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve already read every magazine in this house. And there’s only so much staring at the fireplace you can do before you lose your mind,” she said with a dry laugh. “I’d *love* to play a game, but I feel like we’ve all played out Monopoly and Scrabble by now. There’s nothing else left to do, is there?”

Hailie shook her head. “We could always do something creative. We could—”

“Or we could just *finally* play a game,” Alaina interrupted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Honestly, I’m starting to lose it. If I don’t get some fun in here soon, I’m going to break. I just need something that *doesn’t* involve sitting around staring at the fire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

Alaina smiled mischievously. “Well, when all else fails, board games always save the day. We’ve got *plenty* of those in the closet. And believe me, I know I’m not the only one getting bored to tears here.”

“Oh, my God, yes,” Stevie said, sitting up quickly. “I’m so done with doing nothing. Let’s play something! I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not the only one,” Hailie muttered, getting up and pacing around the room. “Alright, board games it is. But they better be fun. And I swear to God, if anyone breaks out Monopoly again, I’ll lose it.”

“I second that,” Marshall chimed in from the kitchen, where he was grabbing a few snacks. “Monopoly’s a no-go. I don’t think any of us can handle that level of frustration right now.”

“I vote for Uno,” you suggested. “It’s quick, it’s easy, and no one gets too serious about it.”

“Uno?” Hailie repeated, looking at you skeptically. “You’re serious? The card game? I mean, sure, it’s simple, but aren’t we a little too old for that?”

“No such thing as too old for Uno,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s classic, and it’ll keep things light. Plus, if we’re being real, we need something to take our minds off everything else going on right now.”

Alaina snorted. “Honestly, I’m down for anything at this point. I’ll play Uno. As long as no one gets too competitive.”

“Yeah, like that one time Marshall actually threw the cards across the room when he lost,” Stevie said, smirking at Marshall.

“Oh, please, don’t bring that up,” Marshall groaned. “That was one time.” He paused, glancing at you. “Okay, maybe twice. But I was under a lot of pressure.”

Everyone laughed.

“Alright, alright,” you said, standing up with Jackie in your arms. “Uno it is. Let me grab the deck from the closet, and we’ll get this game started.”

As you walked to the closet, Jackie gave a little squeal, his small hands reaching for a stuffed toy nearby. You set him down on the carpet, knowing he’d be entertained for a little while. The rest of the family gathered around the table, everyone chatting excitedly about how the game would go down.

“You guys know I’m going to win, right?” Hailie said with a smirk, her competitive side already showing.

“Ha, we’ll see about that,” Alaina replied, crossing her arms. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Stevie just grinned. “Alright, let’s do this. No backing out now.”

You opened the closet and grabbed the familiar deck of cards. “Alright, here we go,” you said, pulling the deck out. “Let’s see if Uno can save us from the insanity of this snowstorm.”

Marshall laughed as he took his seat at the table. “I’m just here for the fun of it. But don’t think I’m going easy on anyone.”

As the game began, the laughter and chatter filled the room. For the first time in hours, everyone seemed a little lighter, distracted from the chaos of the storm outside and the uncertainty of what the next day would bring.

Uno was just what they needed to turn a long, frustrating evening into something fun.

-

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows as snow piled higher against the house. The power had gone out hours ago, leaving the house cloaked in darkness except for the flickering glow of candles scattered around the room. Despite the storm and lack of electricity, the living room was filled with warmth and laughter as the family gathered around the coffee table for a game of Uno.

Marshall shuffled the cards with practiced ease, his hands moving deftly even in the dim light. “Alright, who’s ready to get smoked?” he said, smirking as he dealt out seven cards to everyone.

“You wish,” Hailie teased, picking up her cards. “You lost in two rounds.”

“That’s because Stevie cheated,” Marshall shot back, pointing an accusing finger at Stevie, who was trying to look innocent.

“Hey, hey,” Stevie laughed. “It’s not cheating if you don’t get caught.”

Alaina shook her head, grinning. “We all saw you play that Wild card out of turn. You’re lucky Dad didn’t make you draw ten cards.”

You laughed, shifting Jackie in your lap as he tried to grab one of the cards. “Jackie, baby, these aren’t for eating,” you said gently, moving the cards out of his reach.

Marshall leaned over, kissing Jackie’s head. “He just wants to help his mom win. You’ve got a secret weapon right here.”

Jackie babbled in response, waving his tiny hands toward the cards again.

“Alright, no cheating, Jackie,” Hailie said playfully, tapping his little hand with a smile. “You’ve got to play fair, even if you are cute.”

“Let’s get started,” you said, placing a red five in the center to start the game. “And no funny business this time, Stevie.”

As the game progressed, the table filled with laughter, groans, and playful banter. Every time Jackie tried to grab the cards, someone would gently move them away, and he would giggle, determined to try again.

“Remember that one time we played Monopoly and Dad flipped the board because he kept landing on my properties?” Alaina asked, chuckling as she played a Draw Two card, causing Hailie to groan and draw her penalty cards.

“Oh, come on!” Hailie exclaimed. “That’s a low blow, Alaina.”

“I didn’t flip the board,” Marshall said defensively, though a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I just...accidentally knocked it over.”

“Sure, Dad,” Stevie teased. “Just like you ‘accidentally’ threw your cards that time we played Uno on Thanksgiving.”

“That was different,” Marshall said, shaking his head. “I had a bad hand.”

“And you didn’t yell *‘This game is rigged!’*?” you teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Marshall shrugged, chuckling. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did. But I still stand by it.”

Jackie let out a loud giggle, making everyone laugh with him. He clapped his little hands, enjoying the energy in the room.

As the game continued, you found yourself reflecting on the memories being shared, each story adding to the warmth despite the cold storm outside.

“Hey, how did you two even meet?” Hailie asked suddenly, her eyes flicking between you and Marshall. “You’ve never really told us the whole story.”

You glanced at Marshall, smiling as you recalled that moment.

“Marshall was doing a charity event,” you began, “and I was volunteering. He came over to thank everyone, and we just...clicked. He asked me out that night.”

“More like she asked me out,” Marshall interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Is that how you remember it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You were the one who couldn’t stop staring.”

“That’s because you were wearing that ridiculous Santa hat,” you laughed. “It had lights on it!”

The whole room erupted in laughter.

“Dad wore a light-up Santa hat?” Alaina said between laughs. “We need pictures.”

“No pictures,” Marshall said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “That’s classified.”

The game went on late into the night, the family savoring each moment together. Outside, the storm raged on, but inside, surrounded by laughter and love, you all felt safe. Jackie eventually fell asleep in your arms, his tiny fingers still curled around a card he had managed to snag.

As you gazed around the room at your family, you felt a deep sense of gratitude. This was what Christmas was all about—being together, sharing stories, and making memories that would last a lifetime.

Just as the laughter reached a peak, the lights flickered back on, bathing the room in a warm glow. Everyone paused for a moment, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

“Well, there goes our candlelit nostalgia session,” Marshall joked, tossing his cards onto the table.

The kids cheered, their eyes lighting up even more when their phones buzzed to life. Hailie immediately grabbed hers, letting out a triumphant sigh. “Finally! Internet again!”

“Not that you didn’t love spending quality time with us,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I did,” Hailie said with a grin, already scrolling through her messages.

“Same here,” Stevie added, stretching. “But, man, it’s nice to be back online.”

Alaina nodded, her phone already in hand. “I love you guys, but I missed civilization.”

Marshall shook his head, laughing. “You kids and your screens. Back in my day, we didn’t have—”

“Oh no,” Stevie interrupted, holding up her hand. “Don’t start the ‘back in my day’ speech, Dad. We’ve heard it a million times.”

You laughed, standing up with Jackie in your arms. His eyelids were drooping, and he was nestled comfortably against your shoulder, his tiny breaths soft and steady. “Alright, I’m taking this little guy to bed. He’s had enough excitement for one night.”

Marshall stood and kissed Jackie’s forehead. “Goodnight, little man. Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Jackie!” the kids chorused, barely looking up from their screens.

You smiled, carrying Jackie upstairs. His room was quiet, the soft glow of the nightlight casting gentle shadows on the walls. You laid him down in his crib, tucking him in with his favorite blanket.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” you whispered, brushing a kiss across his forehead. Jackie stirred slightly, then settled, his tiny hand clutching the edge of the blanket.

I stood there for a moment longer, just watching him. It was hard to believe that he was already 8 months old—time flew by so quickly. Every day felt like a gift, and even in the chaos of family visits, I never wanted to take a single second for granted.

Suddenly, I felt a familiar presence behind me. Warmth spread through my back, and two strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Marshall. His scent—cologne mixed with a hint of his signature musk—filled my senses.

I smiled, leaning back into him. "You know, it’s pretty late, Marshall. The kids are downstairs; they’ll be wondering where we are."

"I know," his voice rumbled against my ear, warm and low. "But... they’re fine. They’ve got their phones, they’re distracted. And besides..." His hands slid up my arms, sending a shiver down my spine as he nuzzled my neck, "I was hoping we could sneak away for a while."

I laughed softly, shaking my head even though I didn’t want to. "Marshall, we can’t be that reckless with the kids right here. What if they hear us?"

He nipped playfully at my earlobe, a smirk in his voice. "You worry too much. Besides, you and I both know you want this as much as I do."

My heart raced at his words. He was right. There had always been this pull between us, something deeper than just physical attraction—it was the bond we had, the history we shared, and the life we were building together. But there was also the constant reminder of our responsibilities. The kids were downstairs, and though they were older now, I didn’t want to take any chances.

But Marshall wasn’t going to let go. His hands traced down my sides before slipping beneath my shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "Come on," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "Just for a little while. I promise I’ll be quiet. We deserve this."

I swallowed, feeling my resolve weaken under the intensity of his touch and the desire I knew was there, just beneath the surface. "We have to be careful, Marshall."

"I’ll be careful," he promised, his lips brushing the back of my neck. "But we also deserve a little fun, don’t you think?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts, but all I could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed against mine, the way his hands felt like they could melt me with just a single touch. The love, the longing, the connection—it was all too much to resist.

I let out a quiet sigh, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was also that familiar tenderness in them, the way he looked at me as if I were everything to him. "You’re not going to let this go, are you?" I asked, my voice teasing but soft.

"Not a chance," he replied, his lips curving into that familiar, mischievous grin. "Now, what do you say? Just a little while, baby. We’ll be quiet, and we’ll be back downstairs before anyone knows we’re gone."

I hesitated for only a split second before nodding, giving in to the temptation that had been simmering between us all night. "Okay. But only for a little while."

His smile grew wider, and without another word, he took my hand and led me out of the nursery, moving silently down the hall toward our bedroom. I could feel the weight of the decision as we walked, the awareness of what we were about to do in such a house full of people. But with every step, my heart beat faster, my body humming with the thrill of the moment.

When we reached the bedroom, he closed the door behind us, locking it with a soft click. He didn’t say anything else; instead, he moved toward me with purpose, pulling me into his arms again. His lips met mine, and this time, the kiss was deeper, more urgent, a reflection of the hunger we’d both been holding back.

"I love you," he murmured between kisses, his hands working quickly to remove my clothes.

"I love you too," I whispered back, my own hands eagerly pulling at his shirt, feeling the muscles of his back as we kissed. The world outside that room ceased to exist—it was just him, just us.

[eddiewithcat]

losing my mind and need everyone to see it so here it is

the theory that buck wasn't telling the full truth about why him and natalia broke up has been itching my brain for days now (since the episode aired lol not that long but anyway)

they're just getting back from a call, all piling into the engine truck and idk what the call was about but it's some silly couple that did something silly ok (everyone is fine, it just helps prompt the conversation) and this causes chim and hen's memory to jog, and so they ask buck like, "oh hey, how are things going with natalia? you haven't talked about her in a while" and eddie just kinda looks over at them, confused because he definitely would've thought that buck would've told them.. so why didn't he?

of course, buck catches his gaze and immediately looks away, back towards hen and chim, "uh w- we broke up, actually" and this prompts them to ask why they broke up, buck gives him a similar story to what he told eddie, although more vague and seems less genuine compared to when he first told him.

hen, being the smart bff who is also concerned, ofc decides to corner buck when they get back to the station and asks him why she broke up with him (bc cmon.. of course she knows he didnt break up with her, it was the other way around. and chim too but he also knows not to push sometimes / is scared to push the Wrong button) and so buck spills, saying something along the lines of, "she thinks i'm in love with someone else" looking off in the direction of where eddie, ravi and chim are downstairs in the weight room, just chillin' idk doin' whatever the fuck firefighters do LOL

hen catches where his eyes have drifted, and asks so softly, to not scare him off, "do you think she might be right?" and in that moment you can hear eddie's laughter floating from downstairs towards where they are in the little kitchen area. buck has a sort of sad, heartbroken smile on his face as he says "yeah, yeah i do"

and scene

anyway i am crying if anyone would like to join me pls do so <3

[clxja16]

Enough

Part IV

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: Toto Wolff's Daughter Au!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: AHHHHH I think I'm done. well idk, if you guys want more, I could probably write one more. However I don't think anything will top the scene after Charles DNF in the Netherlands. I could literally talk about that scene for hours on end. I need to know what you guys think of that scene, because it's probably some of my best work ever. I hope you guys enjoy though. A lot of time and dedication went into this fic. Also this is in no way a reflection of these people in real life. This is not based on real life events. Nothing in this story is fact. This is a work of fiction, purely for entertainment purposes.

Part I, Part II, Part III

------------------------------------

“I cannot believe you,” Susie says after she hears the front door slam shut from you walking out.  She slightly shakes her head, as she looks to the gods, praying for strength.  The strength to not kill Toto at this moment.  

“Me? You can’t believe me? I cannot believe our daughter, does she even think about how the rushed marriage will look to the public?”  

“Toto,” Susie sighs, “you’ve gone too far.”  She doesn’t know how she can get him to understand that you’re not a little girl anymore.  “She’s chosen Charles, and you have to accept that already.” 

“But she could do so much better…” 

“She doesn’t want better,” Susie raises her voice in disbelief.  “Toto, she doesn’t want anyone else, she wants Charles.  That’s it, that’s the end of the discussion.”  Susie doesn’t know what more to say on the matter.  

“He’s going to hurt her…” 

“Toto, that is enough, just because you had an affair that ended your marriage, does not mean Charles is going to do the same!  Why can’t you see that?”  Susie doesn’t like that she brought up Toto’s affair but it must be said.  “Pack your stuff, you’re leaving for the Netherlands first thing in the morning.”  

“I don’t have to be there for a few more days…” 

“Well, then fucking go to the factory Toto!” Susie can’t handle it anymore, as she stands from the table, “I don’t want to see you, until you apologize to our daughter.  Hopefully before her wedding, so help me God.” 

-

Charles had left, around the same time that you had earlier that night to attend a work dinner.  He returned home after you and when he did, he found you on the bedroom floor surrounded by all the legal paperwork for the wedding.  He could see your eyes were red from crying, and he knew that it wasn’t from happy tears.  You were holding a white out pen and the paperwork to change your name stood out among the bunch.  

“Ma cherie…” 

“Hi,” you greet Charles with a weak tone, you couldn’t even look at him properly. 

“What happened?”  Charles moves the papers out of the way to take a seat next to, pulling your face to look at him.  He can see more tears roll down your cheeks.  

“Daddy asked if I was pregnant…” 

Charles' brows are furrowed together at your statement, “Why would he think that?” 

“Because…” you smile a sarcastic smile, “the only people who get married this fast are people who are knocked up.”  You cry, and laugh at the same time as you recall the evening to Charles.  You take a moment before you pull away from Charles, wiping away your tears.  “I don’t want anything more to do with my father.”  You grab the paper for the name change off the floor, and prepare the white out pen.  

Charles places his hand on yours stopping you from continuing, “maybe you should wait.”  Charles’ watches you carefully, he doesn’t want to say the wrong word, “just sleep on it for now.” 

You look up at Charles, and you can see his worry for you.  He doesn’t want you to make any decisions that you will regret later on.  You stare back at the name you have written across the paper, Wolff-Leclerc.  

-

The next morning you and Charles set out to drive to the Netherlands.  The drive surprisingly doesn’t take as long as you anticipate, time travels fast with Charles.  However when you do arrive at the hotel, you realize how much the drive took out of you.  The two of you pass out, practically right away, and you don’t wake up until the next morning.  By that time, you guys have to be at the paddock.  

You make it a point to showcase that you and Charles are together.  You arrive at the paddock with Charles, dressed in Ferrari red.  Part of you does this to spite your father, the other part of you does this because you want Charles to know you pick him over everything else.  While Charles is in the driver’s briefing with the FIA, you make a stop at the Mercedes motorhome.  

The motorhome is mostly empty, the majority of the team being in the garage at this moment.  However you knew your father would be in his office right now.  He scheduled all his online meetings with the factory at this time, because the motorhome was quiet.  When you make it to his door, you don’t hesitate to knock.  

“Come in,” he says, right away.  You walk in and hand him the letter in your hand.  You don’t say a word to him, you’re trying to make this as clean cut as possible.  He takes the letter from you, “what is this?” He asks as he begins to open it up. 

“My resignation letter, effective immediately.” 

“You’re resigning, what are you planning on doing with your life?” 

“I’m going to let Charles take care of me,” you lied to your father.  You tell him this, purely out of spite.  He always raised you to be able to take care of yourself.  His biggest thing was he never wanted you to rely on someone else.  So you tell him this, just so he can suffer.  You don’t stay to see his reaction, or hear anything more he has to say.  You eventually go on to spend the rest of the weekend avoiding him.  

-

You spend Sunday watching the race in the Ferrari garage.  The beginning of the race was chaotic to say the least.  You knew Charles was making his own calls, when the pit crew is yelling at each other, and no one seems to know what is going on.  You see Fred look at you, like you have an idea of what’s going on.  You’re too amazed that Fred can see this far back into the Ferrari garage, to even give a reaction to his stare.  

As you continue to watch the race, you know Mercedes messed up the strategy.  Especially when George had a good qualifying.  Then you noticed that Charles couldn’t keep up with the Haas, and you concluded that there must be a problem with his car.  When Ferrari does decide to retire him, you see him come out of his car.  You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not happy in the slightest.  He ignores you as he makes his weigh-in and goes straight to the media pen.  You look at Andrea, and you see him shake his head. 

You head to Charles' driver's room, knowing he would go straight there after the media pen.  It doesn’t take much longer, as you hear Charles’ heavy footsteps.  When he enters the room, he doesn’t say anything.  He shuts the door, and takes a deep breath.  Then he launches the water bottle he was holding across the room, the cap comes loose as it hits the wall, water splattering everywhere. 

He takes another deep breath, before saying, “sorry.”  Charles runs his hands over his face, he paces the room as he talks, “I know I fucked up the pit-stop, I didn’t give them enough time to grab the tires, before I came in.”  He doesn’t look at you as he talks, “that was my fault, I know that, but for fuck’s sake, they left me out there to get overtaken by Hulkenburg in a fucking Haas.”  Charles sighs, his shoulders drop, he doesn’t look like himself. He takes a heavy breath, now looking at you and he says, “I’m tired y/n.” Charles sits on the floor, instead of on the bench next to you.  He sits by your feet, leaning against your legs, resting his head in your lap.  He reaches up to hold your hand, and he repeats, “I’m tired.”  His head feels heavy in your lap, you place your hand on his head, playing with the ends of his hair, while your other hand continues to hold his. He looks straight on at the wall.  

“Just rest Charles,” you say, you’re not sure how you can comfort him at this moment.  “You can rest now.”

“Can I really?” He asks, as he looks up at you.  You can see how the season has weighed him down.  You slowly nod your head at him, and he closes his eyes.  You know that he doesn’t actually fall asleep, but the two of you stay like that for the rest of the race. You stay right there, in that same position, for Charles, for until he’s ready to move. 

When the race ends, Charles finally moves, he changes out of his race suit. He heard Pierre got promoted to P3, and insisted on staying to see the podium.  You see him put on a smile for his best friend.  You watch them make plans to celebrate Pierre’s podium after Monza, during the weekend they have off.  You watch Charles pretend he isn’t tired for his friend’s sake.  And you feel your love for him grow.   You love that he can be vulnerable with you, and you love that he will always be proud of those he loves accomplishments.  

-

As soon as the Dutch grand prix was over, you and Charles hopped on a flight to Milan.  The Italian grand prix was a home grand prix for Ferrari, so there were events all week long.  Charles’ schedule was packed through and through.  You don’t bother him with the wedding stuff, you allow him to focus on Ferrari this week.  

Susie comes out to Monza, and she helps you plan for the wedding.  Although it’s a small event, she insists on getting you a dress, maybe not your dream dress, but a nice dress nonetheless.  Charles is at the Ferrari Ray-ban event, while you and Susie are going through Milan, looking at several dress shops.  

You are in one particular shop, trying to pull a few dresses to try on, when you look at Susie and say, “thank you coming Mamma.” 

Susie can see as tears line your eyes, she knows that you and your father being at a cross like this hurts you.  “Of course sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

“I wish Daddy felt the same,” you say somberly, “has he said anything to you after that night.” 

Susie turns to look back at the dresses, “I-”  She pauses for a second, “I haven’t seen your father since that night.” 

“What do you mean, you haven’t seen daddy since that night?” 

Susie sighs, “I told him that I didn’t want to see him until he apologized to you, so I haven’t see him.”  

You can’t help but let out a cackle of a laugh.  You slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself, as Susie looks at you wide-eyed.  “I’m sorry,” you say, as you begin to giggle some more, “I’m sorry, but that-”  You can’t contain your laughter at this point.  You know part of you is laughing to stop yourself from crying, but it feels so good to laugh.  And oh do you laugh, “that is too funny, you kicked daddy out of the house?” 

“Well,” Susie can’t help but to laugh at your reaction, “I had to sweetheart.”  She looks at you fondly, pushing your hair behind your ear, and you stop laughing.  “You didn’t deserve that from him,” she says seriously.  

You feel a few tears fall, “thank you Mamma.”  

Susie shakes her head, “now enough talk of your father, let’s focus on you sweetheart.”  She smiles at you, and you nod your head.  You try to push all thoughts of your father from your mind, focusing on the task at hand.  You and Susie spend the rest of the day shopping.  

-

Being in Italy does good for Charles, you can see it clearly on Saturday.  He qualifies in P3, but it makes him happy.  The fans make him happy.  And even though he didn’t really rest, he isn’t tired.  You watch him fondly from the Ferrari garage as he does the post qualifying interviews.  After he wraps up on Saturday, the two of you are walking back to his car to head back to the hotel.  You can feel the bounce in his step, how light he feels. 

“I love you,” you say, as you look at Charles, as the two of you walk. He stops, and looks at you.  His eyes full of love, as he displays a fond smile.  You take all of him in at this moment.  You can’t help yourself from falling deeper in love with him.  You’ll never love someone like you love him.  

“I love you too,” he says.  To anyone else it’s the same ‘I love you’s you said to each other over and over again, but to you, it’s so much more.   

-

It was another Sunday, another Grand Prix, and your second time watching from the Ferrari garage.  Although there is nothing technically different from the Mercedes garage, it all felt different.  Being at Mercedes it felt like a business, it felt like work. Mercedes was cold, it was calm, it was like a normal nine to five workplace.  While being at Ferrari it feels like passion.  You feel the desperation to be great like they once were.  You understand why Charles remains so loyal.  Being there, in the garage it makes you cheer for Ferrari.  You see them trying, you feel their need to win, and you want them to be great.  It only took two races, but you’re definitely a Ferrari fan.  

As you watched the race, you felt yourself constantly holding your breath.  Carlos was brilliant defending against Max, Checo and even Charles.  He drove to the absolute limit and you were amazed that he held onto the lead for as long as he did.  Charles drove the wheels off his car.  Going for ridiculous moves, and pushing it to the absolute limit every chance he got.  Although you must say, you felt like you were going to have a heart attack watching the last five laps.  Yet, when you saw the smile on Charles’ face after  the race, you think your almost heart attack was worth it.  

Watching them race makes you miss it even more.  Watching them push the car to the limit, to the extreme and hold it all together to bring it home, makes you itch to have that feeling under you.  When Charles makes his way back into the garage, after all of his requirements, he doesn’t waste any time in finding you.  He pulls and holds you close.  You let him, sweaty and all.  You can’t help but to just smile stupidly at him.  Seeing him this happy, makes you happy.  

“I know,” he smiles and drops his head bashfully, “I shouldn’t be this happy about P4, but I had fun.”

“I think you should be proud,” you say, making him look at you, “proud that you gave it your all, and you could give it your all.” 

Charles doesn’t need to say another word, as he pulls you in for a kiss.  

Toto was trying to meet Fred to discuss some things, when he sees yours and Charles' interaction within the Ferrari garage.  He witnesses the private moment, away from the crowds, from the cameras, from everyone else.  He sees you being deeply in love with Charles.  Toto has been watching you all weekend long, and last weekend too.  He knows now how much you love Charles.  He sees it now.  Toto can finally see what everyone else saw.  

“Charles,” Fred calls from across the garage, as he beckons for Charles.  You let him go, as he catches up with Fred.  At this time you notice your father standing there watching you.  

“Darling,” Toto calls out to you, as he steps closer.  

“Hi,” you say. 

Toto doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to make this better, how to fix this.  He knows he messed this all up.  He knows it’s his fault.  He just doesn’t know where to start, when really there’s only one place to start. “I’m sorry.”  

You’re taken aback by your father’s apology.  You never expected him to actually apologize.  You thought that eventually you’d feel guilty enough to make up with your father.  

“I’m sorry, y/n.”  Toto repeats again, “I should have never suggested you were pregnant and that’s why you guys were getting married.  I know now that you really love this boy, and that he really loves you.”  

You smile, as you feel a few tears line your eyes.  This time you are certain they’re happy tears.  “Thank you daddy,” you say, as you hug your father.  And just like all the times when you were a little girl, your father has made all your problems go away.  

“Now,” Toto starts off, and he pulls back from you, “may I please come to your wedding, if it is still this Tuesday?” 

“I hope you do come,” you say genuinely.  

Just outside of the Ferrari garage, Charles and Fred watch you and Toto.  Fred shakes his head at your father for being so stubborn.  While Charles just smiles fondly, because now he sees you genuinely happy. 

-

After all the festivities, you remembered the news that you had to tell Charles.  Charles had just walked out of the bathroom, freshly out of the shower.  Towel in his hand drying his hair.  He sits on the edge of the bed, while you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around him.  Pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.  

“I have something to tell you,” you say softly to Charles. 

“What is ma cherie?” Although you don’t see it, you can hear him smiling.  

“I got a call from Zac Brown,” you say.  Charles doesn’t need to hear more as he turns around to look at you excitedly.  “Apparently, someone has been constantly raving about me to his drivers,” you say knowing exactly who has been raving about you to Lando and Oscar.  “And his drivers keep telling him about it.”  You laugh as you see how excited Charles is to hear your news.  “Zac asked if I wouldn’t mind doing some simulator for Mclaren.” 

“Oh this is great news,” Charles says as he pulls you into a kiss.  

“I know it’s not really back to racing…” 

“But it’s a start.” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “It’s a start.” 

“I’m so happy for you,” Charles says, as he kisses you again.  You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down.  Charles falls against you, planting more kisses over your face. 

“Thank you Charles.” 

Charles pulls away to look at you, “no need to thank me, I love to brag about my fiancée.” 

-

Today was finally the day.  Although it wasn’t a big or traditional wedding, there were certain things that your parents and Charles’ mom insisted you guys do.  Like how it was bad luck to see each other before the actual wedding.  So you were getting ready in your hotel room, while Charles and his brothers all got ready in another room.  

You tried to tell your parents that this wasn’t going to be a big event, that you would make it up to them and plan an actual wedding, however that all fell on deaf ears.  They fussed and doted on you all morning before going to the courthouse.  You look into the vanity mirror and behind you, you can see Susie and Toto.  In between fussing over you, they make up.  Your father apologizes and he makes amends.  Your mamma forgives and she loves continually.  The pieces of your family begin to slide back into place.  

As you make your way to the courthouse, Toto insists on walking you in.  You smile, allowing your father.  You wrap your arm around his, in front of you is Susie and Jack walks in first.  Just behind the door, there stands Charles.  His brothers by his side, all dressed in matching casual suits.  His mother stands just off to the side of them. You don’t know why but the sight has tears falling from your eyes, happy tears.  

“Ma cherie,” Charles exclaims as he sees you crying.  He comes up to you wiping away your tears with a smile, “no more crying already.” 

You giggle, you know a lot of tears have been shed these past few weeks.  “It’s happy tears, I promise.”  

Charles smiles at you.  At this moment, Toto unwraps your arm from his, and gives your hand to Charles.  He takes your hand, and both you and him look at Toto.  You know what this moment signifies, nothing more needs to be said.  

One thing about courthouse weddings, they are very efficient.  The officiant says what he needs to, you and Charles both say your ‘I do’s, kiss, and they announce you married.  “I now present the two of you married, as Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.”  The officiant looks back down at his paper, “or I should say Mr. Leclerc and Mrs. Wolff-Leclerc.”  Your family and Charles’ family cheers at the announcement.  

-

While you and Charles took pictures down by the lake, your families watched on.  During the picture of you with your parents, did Toto whisper to you, “thank you.”  

“For what daddy?” you question, looking up at your father innocently.   

“For being proud to be a Wolff.” 

“I am your daughter,” you say, as you look back at the camera and smile.

------------------------------------

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[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

Quarter Final One

Propaganda...

Edward Ferrars (1995) :

Edward gets a bad rap because he's quiet and the whole lucy steele situation but he doesn't get enough credit for how honourable he is! It's easy to have honour when it costs you nothing he knows he'll be miserable with lucy but he knows it's the right thing and to do so he sticks to his guns and does it anyway despite the opposition from his family and to me that is hot! Also yes he makes mistakes but his family are vile - he grew up with Fanny and Robert and is still a good man! Also he looks like hugh grant and plays fun games with Margaret and he understands Elinor in a way no one else does - Hot!Hot!Hot!

Mr Darcy (1995) :

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

GIF by sunsetboulevards

Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

GIF by jaeausten

The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

GIF by didanagy

Fencing? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

GIF by didana

Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Things I noticed in the broken tape

What is Amanda holding here? I can't really tell. Also I realized, in the background of this, you can hear the music of the "everything rots" iconic scene and the audio of Amanda saying "I can feel myself... rotting." in the background. But Wooly's "Amanda's" kind of drown it out. And Amanda looks like she's crying here. She seems like a sad child in a scary situation, but she doesn't look like she's afraid of Wooly. We've seen her "afraid" face before... this isn't it. She's sad. And instead of helping her, Wooly is bothering her. Calling her name over and over, drowning out her cry for help.

Then there's the whole sequence of scenes of Amanda and Wooly being merged together... I think this kind of symbolizes how their stuck with each other. When Wooly died he came back. Whether both of them like it or not, they are the only other person they have in this world.

Then there's the flashing images of the door... Idk what that represents but flashing images of doors seem to be a recurring theme. Maybe it's the entrance to their world? Or the exit? *shrugs*

Now this next thing I will admit I completely didn't notice until I read a bunch of youtube comments pointing it out. But in the scene where they are all sinking, both Amanda and the opossum try to fight it, and while Wooly seems surprised and a little panicked at first he just gives in.

Then there's the whole meatman scene... everyone talks about how Wooly looms over Amanda as she screams but I have seen no one mention how the meatman is the one who makes her scream in pain like this. Also when he says this line, did anyone else physically feel that feeling when the shot is definitely more than a pinch... but like... in their whole arm? I feel it every time and that's why I always try to speed past that scene when watching Amanda videos cuz I hate that feeling so much it makes the whole thing feel 10 thousand times more creepy to me.

I feel like this section of the tape seems to really show how Amanda sees Wooly. Or just represent their relationship in general. She's in pain, suffering, and he just watches with a smile. As if nothings wrong. Looming over her. She can't get rid of him. She's in pain and he doesn't even seem to care. He does nothing says nothing about it. Just stands there smiling without a care in the world.

Moving onto to the We Can Fix it portion (have I talked about this before I can't recall?)

First off, what's up with the whole, losing their eyes thing that happens throughout the tape? Do we think that could be symbolic of something?

Moving on, is it just me or are these the FRIENDLIEST interactions we've ever seen between Amanda and Wooly? Like they are literally just chatting with each other. No angry glares no passive aggressive comments. They disagree about throwing things away, but Amanda doesn't get nearly as angry at him about it as she has with other things. Also it's kind of weird to see Wooly annoyed with Amanda and her being weirdly patient with him. If you showed me this tape back when Amanda 1 came out I'd tell you it was fake.

Also, is it just me, or does Wooly act a lot more... I don't know... human in this tape? Like, I feel for most of the games he feels like... a static cartoon character. Everything he says and does (especially in the first game) feels SO scripted. And while he has moments where he breaks this, it's usually brief. But... this whole tape he just feels so... human. Like not just this cardboard cutout who smiles and waves and always acts the same. Like, throwing old stuff away is a normal thing to do. Wooly kind of feels like a parent trying to get their kid to put some of their unused toys in the yard sale bin. (except way less mature about it). His genuine surprise when they fix the first two toys. The way he rolls his eyes at Amanda when she says: "Just let me look" And like, his little snide comments he makes like: "I could've been to the dump by now." Feel so unlike him, but still so much like something an actual person would genuinely say. In general, he seems to be doing and saying things that feel like things he would usually never do, and yet still feel so in-character. He seems to act more genuine in this tape.

And then, Amanda's concern when Wooly's eye gets torn out. Like, she looks genuinely worried. Wooly actually freaking out over it... I mean, when have we ever seen Wooly freak out like this? Sure he seems nervous or scared around Amanda at times, but like that feels different. And Amanda, actually tries to comfort him! Like does no one else notice how weird this is for them?!

Not to mention Wooly saying he doesn't like this game anymore. Wooly never seems to object to adventures. I feel like this scene between them says a lot more than we realize.

My theory is that the whole Broken Tape sequence caused some sort of change or realization in the two of them. Wooly suddenly saying "I can't take this anymore!" after whatever the heck that opening sequence was would make quite a bit of sense. Like that was probably horrifying for the both of them. The whole "getting merged together" thing?! The whole meatman showing up thing?! The whole, sinking into the ground thing?! Like while it looks clearly worse on Amanda it is probably horrifying for them both nonetheless. Between the opossum, the meatman, and Hameln maybe they silently agreed that there are much worse things to deal with than each other, so maybe they became slightly more tolerant towards each other? This behavior seems to continue on into the Do You Feel Safe? tape, somewhat. There's a clear change in their behavior. Amanda seems to directly call out Wooly's "nothing's wrong" attitude when he says the neighborhood feels "safe".

Then Amanda asks: "Does it Wooly?" and... once again we don't see Wooly's "Everything's Fine" mask on. I mean, how could it after the whole "Broken Tape" incident? Well I mean, it's kind of there. He still says, "Yeah, most of the time." But he sounds SUPER unsure this time. Almost like "I thought it was..."

Also I just love the face Amanda makes at us here. I don't know something about it is so funny to me. it's giving a sarcastic "yeah sure, most of the time Wooly." kind of vibe but also like she's look to us like we totally agree. Or even like a looking to us with a "Look at this idiot." vibe. I know I've already talked about this tape but I wanna talk about it more in the context of the continuity between this one and the last one. I really do think that Wooly tries to go back to his, "stay on script" mode.

I also just noticed here that Amanda doesn't seem too annoyed at Wooly's lecture... UNTIL

He flips back to the whole "Having Adventures with your friends!" thing. And she flat out ignores him, the way she used to in the first game. I think between these two tapes, Amanda seems to be more... comfortable and less annoyed around Wooly when he ISN'T playing a caricature of a cartoon character. Like, obviously, she says in this tape that she still doesn't trust him. This whole alley scene interaction seems very much like their first game interactions. Like Wooly is clearly trying to fit back into the whole "everything's fine" skit and Amanda isn't having it. This could why she doesn't like him in the first place. He acts like everything is fine when it very clearly isn't. And Amanda... flat out IGNORES him. She straight up tells him to shut up, and he looks kind of afraid of her, the way he used to in the first game.

Also I find it really interesting how Wooly suddenly switched back from talking about the show and how they should act to saying "but I really don't-" don't what? Don't like it? Cuz I feel like that's what he was trying to say here. I personally think the whole "playing along with the show" thing is not even about what Hameln wants. It feels more like a way to cover up the fact that Wooly doesn't seem to like all this. It's almost like he's reflecting the blame onto Amanda for their situation rather than acknowledging Hameln's role in all this. Which ties into my favorite Amanda theory:

Basically, I think Amanda and Wooly have very skewed perceptions of each other and both believe that the other has bad intentions. I think on Wooly's part, he's a lot more selfish than Amanda. Though, I feel like Amanda would be a lot more tolerant of Wooly if he was actually honest about how he feels about this situation. Because as much as he tries to hide it and pretend to like it here, he clearly doesn't. Of course he doesn't, he isn't stupid. But I guess it's easier to pretend nothing's wrong and play a part than to actually process what the hell happened to you. (or rather, the hell you went through). Honestly, I think Amanda is actively trying to process and overcome her trauma while Wooly is avoiding it, burying it. Though both are doing it at the other's expense.

However, in the good ending version, the opossum appears and creates a common enemy between the two. And they work together really well. If you help them beat the opossum, Amanda suddenly agrees with Wooly's sentiment that sometimes strangers can be scary. Then when Wooly asks if they could go home, Amanda teases him, asking if he's scared. What I find interesting is that he doesn't actually refute this. Which while it isn't admitting it, it isn't denying it either which is definitely a start. (and then there's the alternate scene where they beat up the opossum in complete sync with each other what the heck).

Whoops that got REALLY off topic. My point is, their relationship has changed, and they seem to be STARTING to communicate more with each other. Amanda still doesn't trust him, but I think this is a start. Yes she tried to kill him at one point, yes she hated him... but I don't think Wooly is as terrible as some people make him out to be. He's selfish and he actively ignores Amanda's feelings in favor of what HE wants, but I don't think he's doing it for Hameln.

Anyway I'm tired. I'll talk about the rest of the tape tomorrow. We cool with that? IDC I'M GOING TO SLEEP BUH-BYE!

[leaawrites]

Between Us

Damon Albarn x fem!reader

Summary: After a heavy break up, both of them see that what they've done wasn't what they wasn't

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist

You’d think that over time, people would forget. That they would move on, find new people to obsess over, new couples to admire. Though some stayed focused on one past forever. Lingering over photos from a decade ago, a smile on their faces. Gushing over people’s private life that they didn’t know.

But she knew. She lingered over the pictures and she knew what happened, how it all ended. She knew the story and she knew the ending. Though she never told anyone.

Damon and her dated for seven years, until it ended in 2001. An abrupt ending with little explanation to anyone outside of their house.

“It just didn’t work anymore,” she told the press at movie premiers. All while Damon simply ignored every question that involved even the slightest mention of her name.

The media, being hungry for the meanest kind of funny and not accepting that two adults could make a mutual decision, painted a picture of their own imagination.

‘DAMON ALBARN SHOWING UP ALONE TO THE BRIT AWARDS AFTER LONG-TIME GIRLFRIEND, Y/N L/N, CHEATED ON HIM.’

‘GOOD LUCK TO NEWLY SINGLE, DAMON ALBARN. May he live in peace now.’

“Do you want me to say something?” He asked her over the phone, miles away from her. Not able to console her like he once did. It hurt to hear her broken voice over the phone, knowing that part of him was at fault for it.

“No, don’t worry about it, Damon.” The use of his name on her tongue almost hurting more than the sniffle she let out seconds after it. “I’ll be fine. It’s gonna last a week or so and then it’ll be forgotten anyway. No need to make more drama out of it.”

Though it didn’t just last a week, it lasted twenty years.

Twenty years filled with accusations, reminders, rumors. Haunting both of them day and night. Pictures in magazines when they had nothing else to print. ‘DAMON ALBARN SPOTTED WITH NEW WOMAN, WHAT DOES HIS EX THINK ABOUT IT?’

Spoiler: She thought absolutely nothing about it.

‘He lives his life, I live mine. He can do whatever he wants.’

‘IS SHE JEALOUS FOR LETTING HIM GO SO EASILY? FIND OUT IN A BEHIND-THE-SCENES INTERVIEW WITH HOLLYWOOD DIRECTOR, Y/N L/N.’

It was pathetic, truly. Truly pathetic, that’s what they should call themselves.

Her and Damon still stayed in contact sometimes, whether it was to congratulate the other on their new project or a small conversation about life when they accidentally met in a coffee shop.

Though, the night when she was woken up by knocks against her front door at 3 in the morning, she didn’t expect more than an axe-murderer.

With reluctant steps towards the door, the thought that she had nothing and no one to protect her in the middle of the country became more apparent as her hand lingered over the door knob and there was no other sound besides the knocking and her heavy breathing. The knife in her shaking hand not being stable enough to defend herself.

She could just ignore it, but when she heard the sobs through the wooden door separating her and the unexpected guest, she couldn’t help herself.

Swinging the door open, her eyes widened as Damon stood on the other side, bloodshot eyes, probably drunk, crying.

“What are you doing here, Damon?” she asked, the name still hurting to say. No ‘love’ anymore, he was simply Damon to her now.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, his head lulling back and forth as he leaned against the door frame.

Putting the knife down, she tried pulling him inside her house, though he didn’t budge.

“No, no, no. Leave me alone, I have something to say.” He pushed her away slightly, holding her by her biceps at arms-length.

“Can’t you do that inside? It’s freezing.” She tried pulling him inside again, but he only pulled her closer.

Their chest pressed together, the alcohol apparent on his breath fanning down her face. His heart beating against her ribcage. Her hands stabling her body as the fell on his shoulders. Grabbing the flesh under her fingernails to hold herself upwards as her legs felt like giving up from being so close to him again.

“I know the last years were horrible. I should’ve said something earlier, apologize earlier,” he started talking, slurring some of his words.

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known it’d be this bad.”

“Sh,” he shushed her before gathering his words and talking once more. Finger laying over her lips. “And I refuse to believe that all those years ago was our end. It can’t have been. It can’t end like that, not you and me.”

She wanted to interrupt him again, ask what he was saying, what he was referring to. She wanted to stop his movement as his hands slid down her arms and lost her skin at her fingertips, until his whole body moved down. One knee propped up in front of him. His fingers messily scrambling for something in jeans pocket.

Pulling out a little velvet box, tears pooled out her eyes as well, streaming down her face.

“Damon,” she tried once more, aware of his condition. Aware of what he must’ve taken to act this way. He wouldn’t do it if he was sober, right?

“Marry me.”

The words hung in the air, surrounded by tension and sobs. Surrounded by lingering looks and feelings they both still held dearly.

“Please,” his voice was quieter now. Almost begging. “I know we haven’t been as close as before, but I still hold you in my heart the same I did 10 years ago. I can’t let you go. Not if I still don’t know if we’re absolutely over. Until then I’ll fight and dream and ask. So, please, say yes and let us fight and dream and love together.”

“Damon,” she said. “You’re drunk. High, I don’t know. I can’t just say yes if you’re like this.”

“You don’t want to marry me?” His voice was shaking, his head hung low in surrender, tears welling up in his own eyes once more.

“I do,” she whispered. “I want to marry you, always did. But it’s unfair of you to ask me now.”

“Then say yes and let us be happy.”

“Not now, in the morning maybe.”

Damon nodded, standing up, closing the box and putting it back to where it had been hidden for too long. It had to wait a bit longer now, maybe forever.

She stepped to the side, letting him pass her, his eyes lingering on her face, searching parts he forgot. Though there was nothing. It was still the same face he saw in his dreams whenever he closed his eyes.

The rest of the night was spent in silence, she brought him pillows and a blanket to have it comfortable on her couch. And while night went and day rose, both laid down, trying to rest, but neither getting the rapid beating of their heart to slow down.

The sun dried her tears away and soon enough, she found herself in her kitchen making coffee for both of them, Damon asleep in the room next to her.

She could still ponder the options in her head, but what would they do when he woke up? What would she say to him? If he even remembered what happened.

A groan coming from him made her head turn around, reality creeping up their spines at the same time. He didn’t recognize the ceiling, neither the walls around him, but he could identify the smell that hung in the air. It was hers.

A strike of lightning shot through his body, making him sit up, the pain coming shortly after. His head aching. But it didn’t matter when her wide eyes stared back at him.

Slowly, one by one, pictures crept back.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled, dragging his hands down his face. “Oh my god. I didn’t ask you, did I? Please say I didn’t.”

“You did,” she confessed, making him grown once more.

Scrambling to his feet, Damon walked over to the kitchen entrance. “Shit. I swear I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what I was thinking. Probably nothing.”

His words made her throat tighten, her heart cried out a sorrowful scream, half laughing about her, half yearning for him to take his words back.

“So, you don’t actually want to marry me? It was all just some drunk mistake?” The words felt like venom on her tongue.

Venom that made his eyes widen in realization.

“I mean, I did - I do. But I never- I never wanted you to know. I just- you probably hate me now. You said, no, right?” He couldn’t remember what she said. After his speech, he forgot everything.

“I never said no,” she confessed.

“You didn’t?” It surprised him. Why didn’t she say no?

Shaking her head softly, she walked closer to him. Leaning on the wall next to him. “I told you, that I wouldn’t answer you until you were sober.”

His eyes slipped down to her lips, sucked between her teeth anxiously.

“Marry me.”

He said it once more, the words feeling heavier now. Reality feeling heavier now.

But her words were light.

“Yes.”

And when her lips fell on his, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, the world felt light.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” she said as they laid under her covers, hidden from the rest of the world. “Let us stay like this forever.”

“Like what?”

“Secretly happy, enjoying ourselves and letting no one else near what we have. I want you, Damon. I want to love you unconditionally. I don’t want to end like we did last time.”

“We won’t let it happen, I promise. I won’t let it happen.”

“So, we keep it between us?”

“It’s just you and me. Forever.”

And they said yes, forever. Keeping it quiet, keeping their life away from anyone who was too interested in it.

Another ten years passed, and when the same day came around from which on they were bound together by a promise, they made it official.

A post, a simple one.

‘New song at midnight. A special one.’

‘Between Us’ was nothing anyone expected. A simple piano, words of love and a video of memories. Just them two. Like it had always been.

A message at the end of the video.

‘I can’t believe I get to live my life with you. The most perfect person I’ve ever met. The love of my life. Twenty years have passed, with a break in between that I’ve never regretted more than when I saw you again, and I still love you like I did the first day I saw you. Until death do us apart and every life time after.’

Written by Damon Albarn and Y/n L/n.

Directed by Y/n L/n.

[starsfic]

Stupid Ex

Summary: An ex of Qi Xiaotian tries to claim his and Red's new baby is his. The flaming calf. The flaming calf that looks just like Red.

“Look at her…”

“She’s so little!” Long Xiaojiao cooed, snapping a picture with visible tears beading up in her eyes. Pigsy and Tang were close to bursting into tears as well, either gripping each other or the frame of the bed that their son lay in. Qi Xiaotian smiled happily, even with exhaustion glazing over his eyes.

Their smiles and tears surrounded the little bundle Xiaotian held. A small scarlet calf slept in the soft gold blanket, nestled safe and close to the baba she had just come out of screaming barely an hour ago. According to the nurses and the doctor, she was very healthy and very adorable, both of which Xiaotian agreed with. Even better, she had inherited Red’s features, including the bull true form. (Hey, sue him, he was still adjusting to his monkey form.)

“Where’s Red?” Xiaojiao asked, breaking him out of his admiration. “I thought he would be here, all over you two.”

Xiaotian felt a snicker come out at the mention of his spouse. “He burst into happy tears when he saw her,” he said. Red had barely been able to hold his daughter, sobbing threats at the Buddha for making something so defenseless so small. “I honestly thought he would pass out with how hard he was crying, so I sent him to get some air and let his parents know Huiying’s here.”

The doors slammed open.

“Oh, speak of-” Xiaotian felt the words die down when he saw the look on his spouse’s face. Sun Wukong and Red’s parents trailed behind, exchanging concerned looks, and Xiaotian could see why.

Red looked pissed. The quiet kind, the kind that couldn’t even light his hair. The set to his jaw and the cold fire in his eyes relaxed, just a little, when they met eyes. So Xiaotian was pretty sure he wasn’t pissed at him.

“Oh, look at her!” Sun Wukong was there, forcing Xiaotian to look away from Red. “Mind if I hold her, kid?”

“Sure!” Xiaotian passed Huiying over. His daughter made a little noise, but settled in the king’s arms easily. “Be careful around Red, we don’t him to pass out from all the tears.”

“Nah, DBK’s the guy you wanna be concerned around,” Wukong chuckled, flashing a grin at his former sworn brother. “Right, bud?”

DBK snorted about how he was a mighty demon king, he didn’t cry over a baby, only for him to see Huiying and have tears bead up. The scene of his father-in-law, the mighty Demon Bull King, crying over his daughter should’ve delighted Xiaotian. It did, but Red’s anger burned at the back of his mind. A warm hand wrapped around his, and he looked away from Iron Fan cooing over Huiying’s little hooves up at Red.

His spouse met his eyes.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said, too quietly for anyone else to hear them. “Once we’re home.”

“...Okay.”

-_-

Red didn’t explain when they got home. At least, not immediately.

Three days passed. To be fair, they were an extremely busy three days, with adjusting to having the actual baby home, greeting guests, and planning Huiying’s 100th day celebration. His family were all great help, but it was still an adjustment. Xiaotian had nearly put Red’s weird expression out of his mind until the fourth afternoon, when he was feeding Huiying. His spouse settled across from him.

“Hey, what’s for lunch?” Xiaotian asked, coming to a pause when he looked up. Red had that same cold fury in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“So, I must ask…do you know of a man named Chen Zixin?”

Xiaotian blinked at the random question. “Zixin? The name sounds familiar, yeah, but…” Something tugged at his mind at it. The name sounded familiar, and Xiaotian’s gut twisted unpleasantly. “I think he’s an ex of mine?”

Red nodded. “I figured.” He took in a deep breath. “Now, I need to let you know, I am not accusing you of doing anything. I am not upset at you.”

Something cold shot down his spine. “What…what happened?”

Red pulled out his phone. “He called me while I was trying to call my parents. He texted me when he couldn’t get in touch with me. I did block his number, but I saved the texts in case.” Xiaotian exchanged Huiying, still contently sucking on her bottle, for Red’s phone. He had already pulled up the screenshots.

Unknown Number: Hey, you're Red, right? Married to Qi Xiaotian?

Me: Do you care to explain why you are trying to communicate with me? I am very busy today.

Unknown Number: Okay, easy, dude. My name is Chen Zixin and I'm an ex of Xiaotian's.

Me: I do not see the point.

Unknown Number: I hate to drop this on you, but Xiaotian and I got back into contact nearly a year ago. I swear, I didn't know he was with someone. But I need to tell you that there's a good chance that his baby's mine.

The moment he read the last line, his stomach dropped.

"Red, I swear, I didn't-"

Warm lips pressed against his forehead. "I know you didn't." Red glanced down at his phone and barely managed a chuckle. "He's so stupid. I asked him what his proof was. Go to my files, I labeled the proof as Idiot."

Xiaotian did, barely resisting a snicker at the file name. What popped up were the screenshots that Red had shown him and more screenshots. He felt a brow raise as he looked the other screenshots over. It looked like a few weeks' worth of talking between Zixin and "him." It was all steamy sex talk, including nudes. At the first one, conveniently cut off under his face, Xiaotian felt himself pause, connecting the dots.

"He doesn't know you changed your number, for one thing," Red chuckled, sounding a bit happier. His tone turned sweet and adoring as he looked down at Huiying. "And he doesn't know Baba got top surgery before we were blessed with you, yes, he doesn't know..."

Xiaotian chuckled. "Plus, I am not that skinny." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, should we tell whoever's picture this is that he's using their picture?"

Red chuckled a little bit harder, sitting down next to him. "No need. I reverse-Googled it. It's an art model picture, and it’s literally the first image that pops up when you Google “art model”." 

"Oh, great!" Well, that left one other thing. "What should we do about Zixin, though?" The fact that an ex he barely remembered had popped out of the woodwork to try and claim paternity of his daughter was... worrying. “Did you tell him off or something?”

"Don't worry." Red grinned like a cat who had gotten the cream. "I told him that he was an idiot, and since our wonderful daughter has not inherited your lovely features-"

"Stop it."

"That he was an idiot, that his accusation alone showed that he had no knowledge of who you were as a person, and I pray that he never passed down his genes if he ever actually had a child."

"...Wow." Scam callers alone never bothered them again once Red got on the phone, so Xiaotian's concern was washed away by a wave of relief. "So, since that's dealt with, what's for lunch?"

"I have that handled."

-_-

The next week or two were quiet. Qi Xiaotian assumed that Zixin had gotten the hint and had decided to leave his weird quest to claim Huiying as his child behind. Good for him. Xiaotian was more focused on his family.

Like today!

Pigsy had finally gotten the money and permission to extend the noodle shop. It was now bigger and better but still affordable and delicious. People were gathered around, watching as Pigsy pulled out big scissors. Xiaotian, Tang, and Xiaojiao stood on the side, with Tang beaming and Xiaojiao snapping a hundred photos. Xiaotian felt his chest squeeze tight with pride as Pigsy cut the red ribbon.

Or maybe that was Huiying, rubbing her cheek against his chest from where she was nestled in her sling.

It was probably both.

Yeah, it was both.

As people trickled in, Tang calling dibs on getting the first bowl, Xiaotian found himself next to his Dadsy, hugging him tight. "Oh, I am so proud of you!"

Pigsy patted his back. "Couldn't have done it without you, kid," he said into his shoulder. "You've been a massive help with everything."

"I don't feel like I was," Xiaotian grumbled as he pulled away. "I barely got in a week of helping the construction." The moment Pigsy learned he was expecting, Xiaotian was banned from helping. All he could do from there was help Pigsy make sure that everything legal was squared away, do some marketing on social media, and taste-test Pigsy’s new dishes.

Pigsy sighed, reaching up and patting his head. "You were there for me, son. That's more help than I'll ever need. Plus," His tone turned even more adoring as he reached out, stroking Huiying's little cheek. She made a little noise at the affectionate gesture, and Xiaotian felt his heart melt. "I wanted things to be ready so my granddaughter has something to be proud of!"

Xiaotian chuckled at Huiying's little snort. "Oh, yeah. I can't wait for her to be old enough to help out-"

"MONKIE KID!"

"Oh great." The peace couldn't last this long, could it? Red wasn't even here yet to provide commentary. Xiaotian sighed and turned to the twin demons, striking a pose. Was it just him, or did they look pissed? "What do you two want?"

"We finally have a way to defeat you!" Yin bellowed. "Although I expected better of you!"

"Yeah!" Jin said, and yeah, that was a glare. "Who knew the Monkie Kid was a filthy cheater?"

Wait, what. "I'm not a cheater."

"That's not what this fine gent says!" They moved, revealing a guy. "Remember him?"

Xiaotian squinted. The guy looked familiar, he guessed? He looked like a hundred other guys he saw on the street. "Not really?" Yin, Jin, and the guy all blinked. He glanced at Pigsy, who was also squinting. "Pigsy, do you know him?"

"I...think?"

"Oh, come on, enough of this bullshit!" The guy yelled. "You know me! I'm the father-" Wait. Waaaait. “I can’t believe you’re still lying!”

"You're Zixin?"

The guy paused, blinking. Yin and Jin looked a little nervous, jumping when there was a yell of "YES!" The guy moved forward, but one of the twins grabbed his arm. "And I know that baby's mine, you can't deny it."

"My dude," Xiaotian felt a snicker rise up. "My dude, I barely remember you. Why would I fuck some guy I barely remembered?"

"I don't know! You're probably lying." The guy gestured to Yin and Jin. "But these fine blokes are gonna help me take back my baby!"

The demon twins blinked before exchanging looks.

"Oh, yeah."

"Right!"

Xiaotian blinked, and then, instead of standing on the sidewalk, he stood on a stage. Several people, including Pigsy, Tang, and Xiaojiao, sat in the stands. A big, flashing sign lit up, spelling out WHO'S THE BABY DADDY in neon.

Xiaotian sighed, glancing over at his family. Pigsy had pulled out his phone while Xiaojiao was snickering and recording. Tang just looked amused. Good. He wanted to save this. Maybe he could get some videos from the cameras perched everywhere?

"So!" Yin and Jin appeared, both dressed in suits and ignoring Zixin throwing up in the background. "We have a contested custody battle here!"

"This fine gentleman claims that the Monkie Kid's baby is his!"

"And the Monkie Kid's husband..."

"Isn't here," Xiaotian said before the spotlight could move. "And, I would like to make a point before you three humiliate each other even further." Yin and Jin blinked again. Xiaotian didn’t wait for the response. “My baby,” he said. "You mean this baby?"

Xiaotian couldn't help the smirk that rose up when he revealed Huiying's little face, and Yin and Jin's faces dropped. "This baby," he repeated, holding her up for the cameras to see. Several coos and gasps of adoration filled the stadium- before Huiying sneezed. As people screamed in shock at the flames, Xiaotian stared down Yin, Jin, and Zixin. "This baby," he said. "You're claiming that this baby isn't Red Son's?"

Red snorted, looming over them. All three of them jolted, meaning none of them had seen Red stalk through the audience and now loom, Xiaotian's inner sex kitten purring at the beast.

That was his husband.

That was the only possible father of this and any future children.

"Heyyy Red Son!"

"Look, we just wanted to make sure-"

"YOU STOLE MY-"

Yeah, definitely the only father.