#something that was so precious to SO MANY PEOPLE and ruining it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astridthevalkyrie · 5 months ago

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“You think people ever look at us and wonder why you would be with me?” Rafayel had frozen in place, his hand mid paint stroke as he gazed down at you from his ladder. You’d been curled up on the couch, watching him comfortably while your thoughts took a depressing turn that was anything but comfortable. “No,” he’d said, “absolutely not. No one in their right mind would think that.”

contains: afab reader, edging, rafayel making reader praise themselves, rafayel speaks in hindi, probably ooc and with grammatical errors sorry i wrote this all in like one hour at 10 PM and i was crying for half of it

it's been a while since my own insecurities have actually given me the creative kick to write something like this, so sucks to be insecure i guess, but yay fic!!!!

Insecurity. What a bitch.

It’s life-ruining, at its worst. It makes you look into the mirror and imagine even the reflection looking back and sneering at what it sees. It makes your heart pound as you walk in public, wondering how many people would smile once they get the privilege of losing sight of you. It makes you sob at night when you’re alone, mind knowing that there is no one in the world who is uniquely terrible, but your heart convinced that you’re the exception.

It makes you say something, accidentally, to your boyfriend.

“You think people ever look at us and wonder why you would be with me?”

Rafayel had frozen in place, his hand mid paint stroke as he gazed down at you from his ladder. You’d been curled up on the couch, watching him comfortably while your thoughts took a depressing turn that was anything but comfortable.

“No,” he’d said, “absolutely not. No one in their right mind would think that.”

If you’d been more acute in the moment, you might have heard the warning in his voice, the irk of a god who has just had his most precious jewel taunted.

But you’d continued instead. “They would. You’re so handsome, so gorgeous. Ethereal. Not to mention incredibly talented. And I love you, and I think we’re really compatible personality wise, but looks…you have to admit you could do a lot better.”

It was then you’d began to note how it felt much hotter in the studio than it had a few minutes ago. Like there was an unseen furnace, prickling with an angry fire about to grow into an inferno.

Rafayel’s voice had been, ironically, icy. “How could I do better than you?”

“C’mon, be real, Raf.” It had been hard to keep the pain out of your words, and impossible to keep the thoughts choking you inside. You’d started to plead, some part of you convinced that it would help if he would simply agree that your every insecurity was valid. “I’m not a supermodel. I’m not a genius. I’m not an angel, either. There’s nothing about me that’s extraordinary. Not like you are.”

And then he’d moved.

And now, you’re still on the couch, crying out brokenly with nothing to grip onto, as his hand holds your wrists above your head, and his cock thrusts in and out of you in the most maddening pace you’ve ever experienced.

He’s never been like this. When you plead, Rafayel gives in. He is weak to you, as he’s shown time and time again. But not today. No matter how much you beg with teary eyes for him to go faster, he shakes his head, slowing down even more. With a punishing growl, he pushes all the way in, and all the way out, leaving your drooling cunt clenching around nothing.

It’s torture. Pure and simple.

“What was it you said?” he breathes harshly, leaning down to press hot kisses on your neck that burn so perfectly you sob. “Ethereal? Talented? A supermodel?”

“Rafayel,” you gasp. He ignores it. His eyes are a violent shade of purple, the most dangerous you’ve ever seen them. There are scales blooming all over his body, as though denying you is the key to awake this dormant side of him, to make you submit.

“I’ll give you what you want,” he whispers, biting and leaving a fresh bruise planted on your skin. “Just tell me what I want to hear. Go on.”

He pulls out and you feel the tears running down your cheeks.

“Say, ‘I’m beautiful.’”

In.

“Say, ‘I’m gorgeous.’”

Out.

“Say, “I’m fucking ethereal.’”

You can taste salt from your own sobs, both from being denied, and from the unimaginable cruelty of having to praise yourself. It’s impossible. You want the reward so bad, but you can’t claw your way to it, because the rules are too imposing. The conditions, blinding.

“Be real,” he taunts, repeating your own words back to you, “come on, start easy. ‘I’m pretty.’ Go on.”

Heaving in a breath, you taste the bitter words on your tongue. “I-I’m pretty.”

Your back arches off the couch as he rewards you with his fingers on your clit, rubbing soft circles while he’s inside you. “Mmhm. You are. And?”

“Please, Rafayel.” You’re clenching so tight around him, and you can see from how he shudders that it pains him just as much as it pains you, this wait, this little game of keep-away. “Please don’t make me—“

You’re cut off by his hand cupping your cheeks, and his lips stealing a salty, breathless kiss. “Meri pyaari gurya,” he groans, kissing you again, “meri chand.” Kiss. “Meri humsafar.” Kiss. “Mine, mine, mine.” Kiss, kiss, kiss. "Do you think I keep anything that isn’t worthy of the Sea God?”

You shut your eyes, crying harder. The logic is loud, but your thoughts are louder. He’s only saying it to reassure you, he’s only saying it to be nice, he’s only saying it because he pities you…

“Meri dulhaniya,” he saves for last, because he knows it’ll break you, “I have nowhere to be. I’m fine staying buried inside you, all day and all night, while your sweet little pussy gushes for me. I’ll bring you to the brink, again and again, but I won’t let you cum, my pretty muse, because either you admit that you’re the most beautiful human in this world, or I’ll fuck it into you till you forget otherwise.”

Trembling, you open your eyes. There is nothing but conviction in his gaze. Conviction, and hunger.

And you realize two very important things. One, that your stamina is nothing compared to his, and you will never hold out against him, and two, that is not something one does out of pity, but out of unyielding, undying adoration.

“I’m,” you swallow, cheeks burning, “beautiful.”

A sharp thrust of his hips makes you moan his name, mouth falling open as he kisses you deeply, and you swear you can feel him hardening even more inside you.

“I’m gorgeous.”

“Yes,” Rafayel hisses, fingers rubbing your clit to match his thrusts.

Eyes rolling back, you cry out, “I-I’m…”

“Fucking ethereal,” he provides, and you think you can feel fire flicking from his lips on your cheeks.

“Fucking ethereal,” you whine, pulling him into a kiss this time.

His hips slam against yours and you cry out against his mouth as his tongue ravages yours. There is nothing Rafayel hates more than someone misunderstanding his art, least of all the art itself.

Your toes curl and your nerves are electrified, everything fading away except you and Rafayel, and his cock and his fingers and his lips, and the couch he’s pounding you into, and you tug at his hair and practically scream as you cum.

He’s still softly licking at your lips as you come down from your high, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. The air escaping you is light, and for the first time in a long time, there is nothing stuck in your chest, a soft fluttery feeling replacing the heaviness that you’ve been carrying what feels like your whole life.

Gazing back up your lover, you cradle his face, noticing that his lovely purple hues have morphed into an even lovelier pink, only a second before you notice he hasn’t cum yet.

“That’s a good start,” Rafayel whispers, capturing your lower lip between his teeth and tugging.

It bounces back into place for him to kiss softly, before he continues, “Now, let’s try ‘most beautiful human in the world.’ If you get there, I might consider letting you have a break.”

#love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel smut #lads smut #l&ds #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x mc #rafayel #valkyrie stories

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skipper1331 · 3 months ago

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I love you (?) // Alexia Putellas

Love

L-O-V-E

A word with a lot and heavy meaning. It wasn't something you just said randomly every day - maybe some people did, but not Alexia. Love meant a lot to her. She came from a well-educated household where love and solidarity were a priority. Her family meant the world to her, she loved her family.

Football meant a lot to her too, she loved football and the friends she had made through it.

Alexia was known to be stern, someone of few words and someone who chose her words carefully. She’s a known person - it came with the business. So she certainly didn't say the words "I love you" carelessly or to everyone.

The only two people who heard it regularly were her mother and sister. All the other people just knew by her actions and caring nature.

And then there was you.

You had crept into her heart with your shy smiles, big grin and addicting laugh.

She wasn’t sure at first if she should ask you out - it took a lot of convincing (thanks to Mapi) to do so.

It surprised her when you agreed but it was obvious to anyone in the Barcelona squad - she was head over heels for you while you also were totally smitten for the captain.

Fast forward, 6 months into your relationship the words "I love you" lingered in the back of Alexia‘s mind. She hadn‘t said those words yet, neither had you.

You knew Alexia was careful and shy, sometimes even scared - it took awhile to break her walls down, so you respected her pace. The feelings also new for you.

The pace was perfect for both of you, nothing rushed or hasty.

But as the days went by, Alexia‘s feelings grew stronger and stronger. At night she thought she‘d explode at some point because she didn’t express herself to anyone.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, all day, everyday.

She wanted to say them.

She really did.

But it was a big step in your relationship. Would you say it back? Did you even feel the same way? What if not?

You meant a lot to her, she didn’t want to ruin anything - everything she had with you was so so special and precious, innocent even.

At the perfect moments, she remained silent, as she had so many times before. It wasn't just an "I love you" it was so much more. Love didn't even come close to what she felt yet it was the closest thing to describe what she felt when she was with you. It was weird.

It was chaotic in her head, her thoughts not organized or structured. It annoyed her. Order was very important to her, especially in her head - after all, that and her talent had made her the best football player in the world. So she didn't like the fact that there was now a lot of chaos.

Normally, she would have talked to you about it, but since it involved you, she couldn't do that.

A different solution had to be found as quickly as possible.

In the next few days, she asked herself what to do. Who could she confide in?

1. you

2. Mami (+ Alba)

3. Alba (+Mami)

4. Mapi

That was the list of people she could always talk to, even if it was often difficult for her - like now.

And that‘s when it hit her.

If she could tell her mother, sister and best friend that she loved you, she could tell you too.

Step by step.

telling her mother

Alexia stood in the kitchen with her mother, preparing dinner while Alba and you set the table. Ale‘s eyes lingered on you, a love sick smile plastered on her face, eyes screaming hearts. She loved the bond you had with her sister. Alba often joked that you were also her sister, which in the future you definitely would be as her sister in law.

The older Putellas watched the scene in front of her, her heart bursting at every laugh she heard. You fit in perfectly with her family - everything was so harmonious, loving and caring, almost too perfect to be true - the most important people united.

Deep breaths, "I love her" she admitted to her mother. It was the first time ever she said that out loud. Her cheeks were bright red.

She didn’t look at her mother, neither at you because suddenly the vegetables in her hands were very interesting.

"Oh, I know" Eli chuckled, the footballer dropping the knife and turning towards her mother.

"You know?"

"I can see it in your eyes"

her sister

The Putellas sisters sat in their local coffee shop for their weekly catch up. Since their teenage years they had the tradition to at least sit together for a coffee once a week. Sometimes it was just for 5 minutes, sometimes for hours, sometimes early in the morning, sometimes in the evening, depending on the schedule.

"Ale, are you listening?" Alba waved her hand in front of her sisters face.

"Que? Lo siento, what did you say?" she stated, her mind had drifted back to you.

Alexia knew you were waiting in her apartment, probably still on the couch where she had left you with a kiss. Or maybe you were in the kitchen? Getting a snack? Or in bedroom reading a book?

I love you

"Thinking about your girlfriend, hm?" the younger Putellas raised a brow while taking a sip of her coffee.

"Sí, lo siento. Please tell me again what you were saying?"

Alba started once again but quickly realized that her sisters mind was somewhere else.

"Come on, Alexia. What‘s going on?" this time Alba flicked the footballers nose to get her attention, "absent again" she explained when the midfielder grumbled confused at her little sister.

"What‘s on your mind?"

"I love her"

"okay…?"

Alexia furrowed her brows, "I love her" repeating her words.

"okay…? I know" Alba repeated her words as well, questioning what the problem was.

"You know too?"

"hermana, you talk about her all the time, like non-stop" she laughed, "it‘s quite obvious that you love her"

telling Mapi

Just a few hours ago, the team had won the champions league trophy - it felt euphoric, everybody high on the adrenaline and joy.

Mapi and Ale watched Ingrid and you dancing on the dance floor, medals around your necks, singing to the song that‘s blasting through the club.

"I‘ve never seen you so happy" Mapi stated as Alexia took a sip of her drink, her own medal still around her neck.

"I love her"

"Oh, I know"

"why does everyone know this?" Alexia furrowed her brows, a frown displayed on her features.

Mapi laughed at her friend, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Ale, seriously? You look at her like she hung the moon. You talk about her all the time. You follow her around like a lost puppy. You sulk the whole day when she‘s not there. You beam from ear to ear when she‘s holding your hand. You-"

Alexia cut her off with a hand covering her mouth, "I get it!" her cheeks crimson red as she shied away from the defender as soon as she had stopped talking.

"You‘re the same way with her, like I’m with Ingrid. We‘re both lucky to have such sweethearts in our life. So, don‘t fuck it up"

"Don’t mess up either" Alexia laughed. Mapi was absolutely right: The captain was head over heels for you, totally smitten and unconditionally in love with you. She had never been so happy before - with you, she felt lightheaded and free, something that was rare in the life of a professional athlete.

She loved you.

And was so thankful to have you in her life - being able to call you hers, hers only.

"I wouldn’t dream of it" Mapi agreed, feeling the exact same about Ingrid, raising her drink.

"Salud"

telling you

"Amor!" Alexia belly laughed, running after you as had thrown multiple paper balls at her to get her attention, her attention too focused on the tv. You ran around her apartment, the girl close behind, almost catching you in the kitchen.

Though, she did caught you in the bedroom, where she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle and tackled you onto the bed.

"Amor, that wasn‘t very nice of you" she stated firmly yet you could see the smile she was trying to hide.

"I was only concerned about your well-being!" you defended yourself, trying to wiggle out out of Alexia’s grasp which Alexia denied as she straddled your waist, pinning your arms down. "I was afraid that the wrinkle on between your brows would stay permanent if you had kept that look on your face any longer" you stated innocently - the same expression plastering her face once again, causing you to laugh.

"Laughing at me, hm, amor" her fingers slid along your arms before they suddenly started to tickle you.

The room was filled with laughter, yours (which was music for Alexia‘s ears) and her own.

"I give up! I give up!"

"You shouldn’t mess with me" the midfielder giggled.

Silence followed, both of you staring in each others eyes with so much love and adoration.

Slowly, Alexia leaned forward, her hands cupping your cheeks while your hands rested on Alexia’s thighs as you met in the middle.

Both of your minds went blank as you kissed one another, hearts racing, skin tingling, cheeks burning.

Pulling back, Ale still had her eyes closed, taking in and appreciating the moment.

"I love you"

it was whispered yet loud and clear.

The midfielder looked at you - the way your face lit up, smile wider than she‘d ever seen before, eyes full of happiness looking at her.

"I love you too"

The older girl matched your expression, hardly hiding her emotions.

"Say it again, por favor"

You happily did, "I love you, Alexia."

Sighing contently, she leaned her forehead against yours, "again, por favor" and that‘s what you did, your girlfriend repeating your words each time.

Because she really did love you.

Ps. She had practiced it more often than she liked to admit in front of the mirror.

"I love you"

"I love you“

Because practice makes the best, right?

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #fc barcelona femeni #barca femini x reader #barca women #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #barça femeni #barcelona femeni #barcelona women #fc barcelona women #espwnt x reader #espwnt

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rizzanon · 3 months ago

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Relentless

a dick grayson and batsis! reader oneshot ft. barbara (oracle) and tim (robin) | m.list

Synopsis: you’re too stubborn to sit out during the events of gotham’s cataclysm, your brother forces you to do so | events somewhat align with batman: cataclysm and nightwing v2 #19-20 if you squint

The city felt like it was crumbling under his feet. Gotham was no stranger to chaos, but this… this was beyond anything Dick had seen before. Buildings were reduced to skeletal remains, fires burned unchecked, and the air itself was a blend of dust and despair. Every cry for help cut through him, a sharp reminder of how little time there was and how many lives hung in the balance.

But none of that mattered to Dick Grayson as much as finding you.

His pulse hammered in his skull, drowning out logic, drowning out reason. He knew he wasn’t thinking straight. Knew that in the grand scheme of things, there were priorities, a bigger picture. He was supposed to be coordinating efforts, supposed to be leading, but—

The comms buzzed in his ear. “Dick, we’ve got survivors reported near Robinson Park,” Barbara said, her voice calm but tense. “And the GCPD needs backup at—”

“I’m already on it,” he interrupted, leaping over a chasm in the ruined street below. He wasn’t, not entirely, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain. Barbara would only try to talk him out of it, and he didn’t have the patience to argue.

He darted through the wreckage, his heart hammering in his chest as he scanned the devastation around him. The comm in his ear buzzed with updates—rescue missions, calls for backup, news of more collapses—but he barely heard any of it. His focus was singular, cutting through the noise like a blade.

You.

You weren’t reacheable.

You weren’t at the Manor, where Alfred swore you’d been earlier.

And the longer you were unreachable, the more scenarios played out in his head—each one worse than the last.

His hands tightened into fists as he swung onto a ledge, surveying the ruins below. Guilt gnawed at him with every second you remained missing. He’d let you leave. He’d been too distracted to notice when you slipped out, too focused on coordinating the larger response.

And you weren’t one of them—a vigilante trained to face Gotham’s dangers.

Now he couldn’t stop imagining the worst.

“Nightwing, update,” Barbara’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Still looking,” he replied shortly.

“Looking for what?” she pressed.

A beat of silence. Dick hesitated, debating whether to tell her. “It’s—personal,” he finally said, his voice strained.

Barbara sighed. “Dick, if you need help—”

“I’ve got it,” he snapped. Too sharp. Too harsh.

He regretted it instantly, but there was no time for apologies.

“Sorry, Babs. I’ll check in soon.”

He cut the line before she could argue. Guilt settled like a stone in his stomach, but he forced it down. There wasn’t room for it. There wasn’t room for anything but the pounding of his heart and the singular focus that drove him forward.

He needed to find you.

He had to find you.

And he had to do it now.

What if he was too late?

The city was almost unrecognizable.

He wasn’t just worried. He was terrified.

He tried to tell himself you were fine. That you were just out of range. That you were waiting out the worst of it. But his brain refused to believe anything that wasn’t the worst-case scenario. His brain wouldn’t stop feeding him every horrific possibility.

What if he was too late?

What if you were buried? Trapped beneath the collapsed remains of a building, lungs filling with dust, crushed under tons of debris while he was out here wasting precious seconds?

What if someone had found you before he did? Not a rescuer. Not a friend. Gotham brought out the worst in people, and desperation turned them into something even uglier. He’d seen it before. Knew exactly what happened when chaos stripped away the rules and left people scrambling to survive.

What if you were already—

No.

No, he couldn’t go there.

His breath was coming too fast, his chest locking up, his mind spinning out, but he forced himself to keep moving.

You were alive.

You had to be.

And if you weren’t—

He cut the thought off before it could form.

He refused.

Because the alternative was unthinkable.

The alternative was losing you.

And after everything—after his parents, after Jason, after everything he had already been forced to endure—he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

His grip on his escrima sticks was too tight, his knuckles aching from the strain. He didn’t even realize how tense his body was until a sharp pain bloomed in his temple, his muscles screaming at him for running on pure adrenaline.

Didn’t matter.

Didn’t care.

He had to find you.

And then—

There.

A flash of movement, a figure hunched near a collapsed streetlamp.

His breath hitched.

You.

For a second, he didn’t trust his own eyes.

Didn’t trust that you were real, that this wasn’t some desperate hallucination conjured by the sheer force of his panic.

But then his vision tunneled in, focused, locked.

His jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

The relief when he found you was almost overwhelming.

You were crouched near a toppled streetlamp, your hands gripping a slab of concrete as you worked to free a trapped man. A group of injured civilians huddled nearby, their expressions a mix of fear and hope. Blood smeared your arms—whether your own or someone else’s, he didn’t know. Dirt streaked your face. Your clothes were torn, singed at the edges, but you didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.

For a moment, he just stared.

Alive.

You were alive.

The relief that hit him was visceral.

He felt the breath rush out of him, the tension that had been choking him releasing in one sharp exhale. His stomach twisted so violently he thought he might be sick.

Because for one agonizing moment, the sheer weight of almost losing you crashed into him like a tidal wave.

But that relief was quickly replaced by something else—anger, frustration, fear, all swirling together in a storm he barely kept contained.

Because what the hell were you thinking?

Relief and anger collided in his chest. Relief that you were alive, and anger that you were here, in the middle of this hellscape, with no protection, no training, and no regard for your own safety.

Did you even realize what you had done to him?

How he had felt?

How his mind had spiraled and crashed and burned in the absence of your voice, filling in the blanks with every possible way you could have died?

Did you know what it would have done to him if you hadn’t been here when he finally found you?

He swallowed hard, throat raw.

No.

He couldn’t think like that.

Not now.

Not yet.

Right now, there was only one thing to do.

Move.

Sliding down the rubble, he reached your side without a word. His gloved hands joining yours to lift the concrete, muscles coiling as he braced against it. You didn’t even look up, didn’t even look at him, too focused on the man in front of you.

“Almost… got it,” you gritted out, your voice hoarse from the dust and strain.

Dick didn’t answer.

Didn’t trust himself to answer.

Didn’t trust himself not to let the sheer force of everything he was feeling spill out in a way he wouldn’t be able to take back.

So instead, he just acted.

The concrete shifted beneath their combined effort, and together, you managed to free the civilian.

“Thank you,” the man gasped as you helped him to his feet.

Medics arrived moments later, moving in to take over.

But Dick barely registered them.

His gaze stayed locked on you.

Still kneeling, still breathing hard, exhaustion making your hands tremble as they hovered in your lap.

And for a brief, fleeting moment, the fear hadn’t fully let go.

Because all he could think—all he could see—was how easily you could have not been here.

How close he had come.

How close he had always been.

And it terrified him.

Once the medics whisked every injured civilian away, only then did you turn to Dick, your expression lighting up in recognition.

“Nightwing!” you said, surprised but smiling faintly. “There’s another building down the block,” you began, gesturing to the smoke in the distance. “I think there are people trapped inside. If we—”

“Stop,” Dick cut you off, his voice sharp. He stepped closer and grabbed your shoulders, his grip firm but not harsh, his eyes scanning your face like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him. “Just… stop.”

You blinked, startled. “What? Why? There are still—”

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the past few hours?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Do you know how terrified I’ve been? How close I was to thinking I’d never find you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

“You’re hurt,” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’re bleeding, you’re exhausted, and you’re not supposed to be out here in the first place. What the hell were you thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed.

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling away from him. “I was thinking about helping people, Dick. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

“You’re not fine!” he snapped. “You’re literally bleeding. You’re not trained for this. And you’re not—” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “You’re not supposed to be out here,” he finished, his voice quieter but no less firm.

“And what if I did nothing?” you retorted, shrugging off his hands. “What if I just sat around, waiting for someone else to save the day? I’m not useless, Dick. I can help!”

Dick’s jaw clenched, his frustration bubbling over. “You’re not useless, but you’re not invincible either. You think I can just stand by and watch you put yourself in danger? You’re my sister, for god’s sake! This is not your job.”

You flinched at his tone but didn’t back down. “So what, I’m just supposed to sit around while people die? I can’t do that, Dick. You’re my brother, but that doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do!”

“And I can’t lose you!” he yelled, his voice cracking.

The words hung in the air, raw and heavy.

You stared at him, stunned into silence.

The two of you stared at each other, the tension between you crackling like static. Finally, Dick exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm. “There’s a safehouse nearby. You’re getting treated, and you’re staying put. That’s not up for debate.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look on his face stopped you.

“Please.”

Reluctantly, you nodded.

The safehouse was quiet. Not calm—just quiet. The kind of quiet that sat heavy in the air, pressing against the walls, filling every inch of space between breath and thought. Small but sturdy, its reinforced walls muted the sounds of Gotham's suffering. Inside, it felt like time slowed, the weight of everything settling in the silence between you and Dick.

He guided you inside with a firm hand on your shoulder, his grip strong but not harsh, like he was afraid you'd bolt at any second. His fingers tightened for just a moment before he forced them to relax, like even he wasn’t sure whether he was trying to keep you close or just convince himself you were really here.

Alive.

It should have been a relief. It was a relief. But it didn’t settle the way relief was supposed to. It didn’t ease the tightness in his chest or quiet the thoughts still running rampant in his mind. If anything, it only made them worse.

“Sit,” he ordered, pointing to a worn-out chair in the corner of the room.

The word came out sharper than he meant. Short. Clipped. Frayed at the edges with everything he wasn’t saying.

You obeyed without much argument, and something about that made his stomach twist. You never obeyed this easily. Never gave in without at least a token protest.

That wasn’t a good sign.

Exhaustion was finally catching up to you. Your legs ached, your arms stung from countless scrapes, and every breath was laced with the sharp tang of smoke. Your hands trembled slightly as they rested on your lap.

His gaze flickered over you, cataloging every scrape, every bruise, every smear of blood. The acrid scent of smoke clung to you, burned into the fabric of your clothes, tangled in your hair. The jacket you wore was torn, singed at the edges, dirt and ash streaked across the fabric.

How long had you been out there?

How many times had you come close to something you couldn’t walk away from?

Dick swallowed hard and turned away before those thoughts could spiral into something worse.

He didn't waste a second, rifling through a nearby first aid kit with quick, efficient movements. He looked up briefly, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“Take off your jacket,” he said, already kneeling in front of you with the kit in hand.

A flicker of hesitation. A barely-there pause.

“I told you, I’m fine,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

A lie. An obvious one. But that wasn’t what made his jaw clench. It was the way you said it. The way your voice wavered, just slightly. The way you wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Not a request.

Not this time.

The tension in his voice made you sigh in defeat. You tugged at your jacket, hissing as the fabric pulled against an especially deep scrape on your arm. Dick was on it immediately, gently easing the sleeve off for you.

The jacket his the floor, forgotten.

Silence settled again as his hands moved with practiced precision, cleaning the cuts and bandaging them with care. But he still wasn’t looking at you—not really. His jaw was clenched so tightly you thought it might snap, and the silence between you felt heavy with everything unsaid.

“I was fine out there,” you said quietly, breaking the silence.

Dick’s hands paused mid-movement, his fingers hovering over the next bandage.

“You call this fine?” he asked, his voice tight as he gestured to the mess of bruises and scrapes covering your arms.

You said nothing.

Because there was nothing to say.

And that only made it worse.

Dick forced himself to keep going, fingers moving automatically, muscle memory taking over. He cleaned each wound, wrapped each bandage, all while his mind spun in circles, overthinking, overanalyzing.

If he had found you later—if he had been just one step behind—what then?

Would you still be here?

Would he have found you in time?

Would he have found you at all?

The thought made something crack deep in his chest, something raw and ugly that he didn’t have time to deal with.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sharp chirp of his comm interrupted you. Dick pressed a finger to his earpiece, his expression darkening as he listened.

“Nightwing,” Barbara’s voice crackled through the comm. “We’ve got a situation on 14th and Bay. The two apartment buildings there collapsed, and people are still trapped inside. Can you get there?”

Dick’s jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes briefly, exhaling a slow, measured breath.

“On it,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him.

He returned his focus to you, quickly finishing the bandage he’d been working on. His hands moved faster now, a clear sign that his mind was already on the next crisis.

“Stay here,” he said, standing up and grabbing his escrima sticks from the nearby table.

“Dick—”

“No,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “Stay. Here. Please.” His voice softened on the last word, his eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. It was unwilling, unintentional—but real. And he hated how much weight it carried.

Because he never asked.

But this?

This was him asking.

“I’ll come back, but I need to know you’re safe. Don’t make me worry about you on top of everything else, okay?”

You hesitated, the weight of his plea settling uncomfortably in your chest. Dick held your gaze, searching for something, anything, that would tell him you understood.

Finally, finally, you nodded. You nodded, if only to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“Good,” he said, his voice softening just slightly. He gave you one last glance before turning and heading toward the door.

The sound of it clicking shut behind him felt louder than it should have, leaving you alone with the distant echoes of Gotham’s chaos and your own restless thoughts.

For a few minutes, you sat there, staring at the bandages on your arms, his words replaying in your mind.

Stay here. Please.

You hated the idea of sitting still while the city burned. There were people out there who needed help—people like the ones you’d already saved. And sitting here, safe and useless, felt like a betrayal to them.

You glanced at the door.

You made your decision.

The chaos in Gotham was endless, a cacophony of crumbling structures, distant cries for help, and the ever-present smell of smoke. Dick was exhausted, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. Beside him, Tim was just as determined, the two of them working seamlessly to pull survivors from the wreckage and guide them to safety. Barbara’s voice crackled in their earpieces, directing them to the next area in need of aid.

“Nightwing, Robin, you’ve got a fire spreading at Kane Plaza. Emergency crews can’t get there in time—” Barbara’s voice faltered for a second before steadying. “I’m sending coordinates now.”

Dick barely registered her words. His sharp gaze had locked onto something else—or rather, someone else.

There you were, weaving through the rubble as if you belonged in this nightmare, helping an injured man to his feet while gesturing for a small group of civilians to follow. Dust and grime clung to your torn clothes, your hair plastered to your forehead with sweat. But it wasn’t just your presence that froze him—it was the new scrapes on your arms, ripping through the bandages that he wrapped on you, the limp in your step, and the reckless determination in your eyes.

He’d told you to stay at the safehouse. Not even an hour ago. He’d begged you.

“Nightwing?” Tim’s voice cut through his thoughts. “What’s going on?”

Dick didn’t respond. His chest tightened, a knot of anger and fear winding together as he leapt down from the scaffolding, leaving Tim behind.

You felt his presence before you saw him. The weight of his gaze was unmistakable, even from behind the domino mask. When he landed a few feet away, the sharp intake of his breath was audible.

“Dick—”

But you didn’t get another word out. His hand wrapped gently but firmly around your arm, halting your movements.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was low, but the edge in it was impossible to miss.

“I’m helping—”

“I told you to stay at the safehouse!” he snapped, his grip tightening slightly. “What part of ‘stay put’ didn’t you understand?”

“I couldn’t just sit there while people needed help!” you protested, pulling against his hold, but he didn’t let go.

Dick’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. He turned to Tim, who had swung down to join them, watching the scene with wide eyes.

“Robin, head to Kane Plaza. Oracle needs you there.”

Tim hesitated, glancing between the two of you. “What about—”

“Go,” Dick ordered, his voice firm.

Tim nodded reluctantly, shooting you a sympathetic look before grappling away.

Dick didn’t say another word as he steered you away from the rubble, his grip on your arm unyielding. You tried protesting again, but he didn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he led you toward the clocktower.

The ride to Barbara’s clocktower was suffocating, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. When you arrived, Dick didn’t even give you a chance to argue before he guided you inside, his hand on your shoulder as if he didn’t trust you not to run off again.

Barbara turned her chair away from the monitors, her gaze flickering between the two of you. “Well, this looks promising,” she remarked lightly, though her sharp eyes immediately caught the fresh scrapes on your arms.

“She didn’t stay at the safehouse,” Dick said, his voice clipped, every syllable brimming with restrained anger. He released your arm finally but stayed rooted just a few feet away, his posture stiff and unrelenting. “She decided to run off and—”

“Save it,” Barbara interrupted, wheeling toward you. “I can see where this is going, and we don’t need another lecture right now. Let me look at those cuts before you get infected.”

You didn’t argue. The exhaustion was hitting harder now, sinking into your limbs, turning every movement sluggish. You dropped onto the couch with a quiet huff, still glaring at Dick as you did.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, more for your own sake than anyone else’s.

Barbara pulled out a first aid kit and parked beside you, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Sure, you are,” she said dryly, pulling an antiseptic wipe from the pack. “Let me guess. You decided to play hero again?”

You winced as she dabbed at a particularly deep scrape. “I was helping people,” you mumbled. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Barbara said, glancing at Dick as he paced. “And judging by the big guy over there, I’m guessing it didn’t go over too well.”

You didn’t answer, and Barbara gave you a sympathetic look. “This might sting,” she warned, pressing the antiseptic deeper into the wound.

You hissed in pain but said nothing, biting your lip to keep from reacting further.

Barbara’s tone softened as she continued, “You know, for what it’s worth, you’ve got guts. A lot of people wouldn’t have run into the chaos like you did.”

Your eyes darted toward Dick, who had stopped pacing to stand by the window, staring out at the broken cityscape. Even through his domino mask, you could feel the weight of his disapproval.

“He doesn’t see it that way,” you muttered.

Barbara followed your gaze and chuckled quietly. “Oh, he sees it. He just doesn’t know what to do with it.” She paused. “That’s how Dick operates. All heart, but when things get messy, he acts more Batman than he realises.”

You scoffed. “Feels like he just wants to control me.”

Barbara shook her head. “No, he just doesn’t want to lose you. It’s his greatest fear.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “Well, he’s got a funny way of showing it.”

Barbara tilted her head, studying you carefully. “You know, my father once told me that fear makes people act in all kinds of strange ways. Dick’s no different. Doesn’t mean he’s right, but it does mean he’s scared out of his mind.”

You frowned, unsure of how to respond to that. “Still doesn’t excuse him treating me like I’m five.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Barbara agreed, tying off the last bandage. “But he’s trying. It’s just… messy. And loud.” She smirked slightly, patting your arm. “There. All patched up. Try not to give him a stroke next time.”

You managed a small, weak smile. “Thanks.”

Barbara wheeled back, gesturing toward Dick. “Your turn, champ. Don’t break anything.”

She disappeared into the adjacent room, leaving you and Dick in an unbearable silence. Dick didn’t turn around right away. When he finally did, his movements were slow, deliberate. Measured, like he was forcing himself to keep steady.

“You promised me,” he said finally, his voice low but sharp. “You said you understood. You said you’d stay at the safehouse.”

“I did understand,” you replied, standing to face him. “But I couldn’t just sit there, Dick. People needed help.”

“They didn’t need your help,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea how reckless that was?”

“I was helping people,” you argued, your voice growing louder to match his. “Just like you and everyone else out there!”

“No, not like me!” he roared, stepping closer. “I have training, experience. You don’t.”

Your chest tightened. Your hands clenched into fists.

“And whose fault is that?” The words came out before you could stop them, laced with every ounce of bitterness you felt. “You and Bruce never let me do anything. You never trusted me enough to let me try.”

“This isn’t about trust!” he shouted. “It’s about keeping you alive. It’s about making sure you don’t end up like—”

He cut himself off, but the weight of his unfinished sentence hung heavy in the air. You already knew how that sentence ended.

“Like who?” you demanded, though you didn’t need to ask.

Dick looked away, jaw clenching. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. Rough.

“Like Jason.”

The name landed between you like a gunshot.

“I couldn’t save him.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t there to stop him. And if I lose you too—”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

His words trailed off, but the raw emotion in his voice hit you like a punch to the gut. For a moment, your anger faltered, but the frustration bubbling in your chest refused to die down completely.

“I’m not Jason,” you said softly. “I’m not him, Dick. You can’t keep punishing me for what happened to him.”

“I’m not punishing you,” he countered. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need your protection,” you shot back, voice breaking just slightly.

“Maybe I just need you to believe in me.”

“I do believe in you,” he said, his voice desperate. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you throw yourself into danger like this.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore, Dick,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can make my own choices.”

“Not when they’re this reckless,” he countered, his frustration boiling over. “Do you even realize what could’ve happened to you out there? You could’ve been crushed under rubble, or worse—”

“But I wasn’t!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “I was helping people, and I made it out. Why can’t you just trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you don’t!”

His voice cracked.

"You don't,” he repeated, quieter now. “And that's what terrifies me."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily between you. You swallowed hard, blinking back tears.

“I hate you.”

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t even true.

But it still hit like a punch to the gut.

Dick flinched. Actually flinched. Like you’d physically struck him.

You turned before you could see his reaction, before you could second-guess yourself, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind you.

Minutes passed before Barbara found him.

Dick sank onto the couch, his head falling into his hands as the weight of the argument crashed over him. He’d handled it horribly—he knew that—but the fear of losing you had clouded his judgment.

"That bad, huh?" she said, wheeling closer.

“She hates me,” Dick muttered.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. “Hate’s a strong word.”

“She said it,” he replied, his voice muffled by his hands.

Barbara sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Well, you didn’t exactly handle that with kid gloves.”

“What was I supposed to do, Babs?” Dick asked, looking up at her, his eyes filled with frustration. “She keeps putting herself in danger. I can’t just let that slide.”

Barbara wheeled closer. “You really aren’t getting it, are you?”

Dick barely lifted his head. “Enlighten me.”

“She’s angry because she wants your trust,” Barbara said plainly. “She wants your approval. And instead, all she gets is you treating her like she’s a fragile piece of glass.”

Barbara tilted her head. “You sure you’re not projecting a little?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked defensively.

Barbara shrugged. “You couldn’t be there for Jason, so now you’re overcompensating with her. It’s understandable, but it’s not fair.”

Dick bristled but didn’t argue. “She’s not ready for this, Babs. She’s not trained.”

“Then train her,” Barbara said simply.

“It’s not that easy,” Dick argued. “This life—it’s dangerous. If she gets hurt—”

“She’s already out there, Dick,” Barbara interrupted. “She’s already helping. You can either keep trying to stop her or actually give her the tools to do it safely.”

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I can’t lose her, Babs. Not like Jason.”

“And you won’t,” Barbara said firmly. “But you’re going to push her away if you keep treating her like she can’t handle herself.”

Dick stared at the floor, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what to do.”

Barbara rolled closer, resting a hand on his arm. “Talk to her. Really talk to her. And listen, for once. You might be surprised by what she has to say.”

He nodded slowly, though the conflict in his eyes remained. “I’ll try,” he said quietly.

“You’d better,” Barbara said with a small smirk. “Or I’ll knock some sense into you myself.”

The rooftop was still and cold, the night stretching out endlessly beneath the Gotham skyline. You had sought solitude here, the only place where you could distance yourself from everything that had happened—the argument, the anger, the hurt. All of it weighed heavily in your chest, a constant reminder that things hadn’t been the same for a while.

The sound of footsteps reached your ears, slow and deliberate. You didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge the figure who approached you. But you knew it was Dick. You knew it was him before he even spoke. Dick’s presence was impossible to ignore.

You didn’t turn.

You didn’t want to.

It wasn’t because you didn’t care—it was because you didn’t know how to process everything yet.

“Looks like I didn’t have to look far this time,” Dick’s voice was steady but tinged with something else—something quieter, softer, and laced with the weight of everything that had happened.

You remained silent, your gaze fixed on the skyline. The space between you two felt wide, like an ocean, even though he was close. The argument from earlier hung in the air like a thick fog, and you didn’t know how to navigate it. You didn’t even know how to feel anymore. His words had been sharp, filled with the fear and frustration of someone who cared too much and yet didn’t know how to show it.

Dick didn’t push. He didn’t demand anything of you. Instead, he slowly sat beside you, his presence warm but not invasive, a reminder that no matter what had been said, he was still here. You didn’t know if you were ready for this conversation yet, but it was happening anyway.

The silence between you both stretched on, thick and heavy. And then, finally, Dick spoke.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was low, full of regret. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’ve been… all over the place. I’ve been scared. I should’ve listened instead of just reacting. I know I hurt you.”

You flinched, not because the words were harsh, but because the truth in them made everything feel too real. You had expected him to come up here with anger still in his eyes, ready for round two. But this… this was different. His voice was raw, stripped of any pretense. He was trying—more than you had realised—trying to understand. You couldn’t ignore that.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know you were scared. I should’ve understood that. I pushed you away when I should’ve been listening, too.”

Dick turned to face you, his eyes softening. “I just—” He hesitated, then ran a hand through his hair, his face filled with an exhaustion that you hadn’t noticed before. “I don’t want to lose anyone else, you know? I didn’t mean to treat you like you weren’t capable of making your own decisions. I just… I saw you out there, running into danger, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Jason. I couldn’t stop thinking about what could happen to you, and the last thing I want is to watch you… slip away like he did. I can’t handle that. Not again.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words sink into your chest. The fear, the hurt—it was all there, and you’d been blind to it. Blind to how much his actions came from that place of love and pain.

“I should’ve been there for you,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “I should’ve known how hard this was for you. I should’ve known that you weren’t just trying to control me. You were trying to protect me. And I… I didn’t make it easy. I’ve been too focused on trying to prove myself. I’ve been angry, and I haven’t been fair.”

Dick let out a deep sigh, as if the weight of everything had just hit him in that moment, too. “I’ve been hard on you, and I know it. But it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. It was because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. It’s like everything else I’ve lost—like it’s all going to happen again. And I don’t know how to make it stop.”

You turned to him then, meeting his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever. “I get it, Dick. I really do. But you can’t keep pushing me away like that. I get that you’re scared. I’m scared too, but I don’t want to be treated like I’m… fragile. Like I’m someone you need to shield from the world. I can handle it. I can handle myself.”

Dick’s face tightened, but not with anger. It was something else—a mix of relief and guilt and vulnerability all wrapped up in one.

“I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to just let go and let you do your thing. I feel like I’m failing you every time I don’t step in and stop you. But maybe… maybe it’s me who’s been holding on too tight. Maybe I need to learn to trust you more, to let you make your choices, even when I don’t agree with them.”

A silence passed between you two, heavy but not suffocating. You could feel the air shift, the tension lessening, like the pieces of a puzzle were finally falling into place.

“I don’t want you to let me go completely,” you said, your voice trembling. “But I do need you to trust that I know what I’m doing. That I’m not just… trying to get myself hurt out there. I want to help, and I want to be here. I just need you to believe in me.”

“I do,” Dick whispered, his eyes softening. “I do believe in you. I always have. I just… I guess I haven’t been great at showing it.” He shifted, looking at you with a mixture of apology and affection. “I’m sorry for not seeing how you’ve been feeling. For not really listening. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “I haven’t been perfect either. I’ve been selfish, not thinking about how my actions might affect you. I’ve been… stubborn. But I understand now. I do.”

Dick’s hand slowly reached out, hovering for a moment before resting gently on your shoulder. His touch was warm, tentative, as if he wasn’t sure whether you would pull away. But you didn’t. You leaned into it, into him. And when you finally met his gaze again, you saw something new in his eyes—something softer, more open.

He pulled you into a tight hug then, his arms wrapping around you with the same sense of protection that had once felt like a cage but now felt like a lifeline. “You’re relentless, you know that?” he whispered, his voice muffled against your hair.

You laughed quietly, the sound light but filled with warmth. “I know.”

Silence filled the air for a few moments.

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dick murmured, his grip tightening around you as if he couldn’t let go even if he wanted to. And in that moment, the world felt a little less heavy, a little less uncertain, as you both held on—because this, this was the way forward.

Don’t be surprised if you see something similar to this in another one of my future works 🤫 hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld | ask to be added <3

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truuskn · 2 months ago

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it's so interesting to see evil done unintentionally. when a really good person makes a mistake, a serious terrible mistake, and becomes the cause of someone else's grief and pain... it's moments like this that give you a glimpse of their true nature. give you a new perspective of them. the way they try to make amends with all their might, try to justify and explain themselves, the way they suffer, regret what they have done and dream of turning everything back... life journeys like this, especially solo journeys, that's what i love. and, oh, jazz had it rough

you know, after everything cybertronians have been through it's hard to stay that way. sympathetic. after centuries of violence, brutality and fear, after endless battles and losses it's truly hard to sincerely feel compassion or guilt, hard to feel sorry for anyone but yourself. you want to be selfish, you want to finally let go of the past and live the damn life, you want to forget all your sins and enjoy the well-deserved victory, the home, the precious peace for which you went through hell. but jazz can't do that

he's done a terrible thing. he killed a human. many in his place would just accept that "little inconvenience" and move on. again against the backdrop of everything that had happened to them this event really meant nothing. a few lines in the giant book of their history. a few heavy seconds in the flow of the thousands of years of their lives. nonsense. trifle. the death of a bad person who deserved it. a cruel decision of fate. an accident beyond their control. so many ways to justify themselves! but jazz can't do that. shame for what he has done haunts him. he tries to put it aside, tries to start over, but he keeps getting pulled back, to the heat of battle, to the darkness of his former life, by the hands of those closest to him and by his own efforts. it's this event that fundamentally changed something about him. changed the way he looks at the world and himself

he can't forgive himself. he can't forget. he wakes up every night with nightmares, reliving that day and hundreds of other days over and over again. why is he reacting this way? he became a bad man a long time ago. so much blood on his hands, so many murders, so many ruined fates at his mercy, but the bitter sharp shame still stubbornly follows him. he can't move on knowing what he and his people have doomed the earth to by involving it in their conflict, he can't move on knowing that in the eyes of the earthlings they are far from heroes, far from fighters against injustice. for humans there is no much difference between an autobot and a decepticon, they are all murderers, they are all destroyers of their home. if this is his legacy, if his struggles and sacrifices have led to this outcome, doesn't that mean he's been wrong all his life? was it all for nothing? what was even the point? is the only thing he's actually good at is destruction? it can't be true. it can't stay that way!

he wants to understand what he means to others, he wants to make a difference, he's really trying, but the scary truth is... nothing will change. no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, there's no going back. he'll remain a monster in their eyes and he'll remain a monster in his own eyes. they won't forgive him and neither will he forgive himself. he'll have to live with that. he accepts it eventually. it will never get any easier, but he will live through it

#not really happy with how I wrote my thoughts here but WHATEVER i'm not a writer and just wanted to share this feeling #ANYWAAAAY--#jazz my poor baby my poor babyyy #every time i think about this part of jazz's life i drown in my own tears #me when jazz 😊 also me when jazz ☹️#jazz #tf jazz #transformers #maccadam #tf #truusknmumbles #transformers idw #tf idw #idw jazz

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bambooswordwielder · 4 months ago

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Obsessed with the fact that Shen Yuan only transmigrates when all the Peaklords have settled into their positions for a few years because the idea of Shang Qinghua being stuck watching Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge arguing for nth time about some budget detail that is DEFINITELY getting overblown now and just being stuck thinking

"Damn this would've been such a good enemies to lovers plot line... Imagine how much I could've made off of them..." and regretting not monetising their rivalry more before he killed off Liu Qingge ( "Oh and the angst Shen Qingqiu would've faced after his secret lover died and everyone blamed him for it! Fans would've been begging for more extras!" 🐹💔)

Like all the peaklords are desperately trying to mediate and fix the situation and Shang Qinghua is just imagining his one hundredth Fix-It Fic/AU where Shen Jiu is the King's trusted scholar and Liu Qingge is the King's personal bodyguard

Everyone thinks when a single tear falls from Shang Qinghua's eyes its because during Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu's fight they destroyed both his newly drafted budget (for the fifth time that month) and the fact they also destroyed the table (for the third time that week and the week just started)

Reality is Shang Qinghua is crying because he thought of an angsty death scene for the two Romeo and Juliet style because both their families couldn't accept them being together

Years of this pass and at some point he even picks up writing again (specifically about characters clearly based on Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge) and he gets really popular, popular enough his novels start to flood all of Cang Qiong and even Liu Mingyan takes some inspiration from them

Everyone knows damn well that the characters are clearly meant to be Peaklord Shen and Peaklord Liu, but no one tells because they all are legitimately waiting for the next volume of "Battle-to-your-poisonous-heart-and-peaches"

Does everyone know it's Shang Qinghua... Noooo.. Would anyone admit if they did know.... No.

Then all the sudden on day Shen Qingqiu suddenly looked in the dictionary and discovered what the word 'nice' is and now he doesn't abuse his students 🐹🤯

He even let himself get poisoned and potentially ruined his cultivation for life for Luo Binghe of all people!? Um excuse Airplane Logic, but the MC is supposed to only get all the good stuff AFTER he falls into the abyss!

And what's this about Liu Qingge helping to 'clear' his meridians so he has to personally visit Qing Jing peak every week?? Def something is off, an author knows fishy when he sees it

For how many years Shang Qinghua is stuck watching these two do their whole "You're my precious Shidi" and "I'll always be here for you" act and he's just stuck eating dogfood wondering when exactly is the marriage extra coming in and why the System won't tell me why Shen Qingqiu is acting all happy go lucky now

Shang Qinghua notices Shen Qingqiu talking to Yue Qingyuan more, he notices Qing Jing disciples running straight to Shen Qingqiu with joy and excitement rather than the reserved fear they had before, he notices how Shen Qingqiu only glares at him twice every meeting than before!

Maybe this isn't his version of PIDW, maybe it's a fan made version where Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu fall in love and with the power of love and friendship Shen Qingqiu learns to be kind and to care and isn't going to cause Luo Binghe to go down his dark path and maybe they can all have a happyily ever after—

*Endless Abyss Arc*

"Oh fuck–"

[Before Endless Abyss Arc]

*Shang Qinghua watching from a distance as Luo Binghe is practically clinging to Shen Qingqiu's side. Shen Qingqiu pats Luo Binghe's head and Luo Binghe does THAT smile he only does for his wives*

"Well this is an interesting fanfic..."

[After Airplane Reveal]

"Wait... So you're actually a transmigrater as well, Cucumber-Bro?"

"Yeah, and?"

"..."

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Do you hate, or have you at least at some point hated, Liu Qingge?"

"I– No–Wait what???"

"Let me reword it. Have you ever considered murdering him at one point?"

"WHYAREYOUASKINGMETHESEQUESTIONS!? YOUKNOWWHATHAPPENEDTOSHENJIU! IMNOTRISKINGHISFATE!"

"... So I'll take that as a no."

"OBVIOUSLY!?"

"So it's just a normal Friends to lovers 😮‍💨 No flavour 🙄"

Shang Qinghua was then brutally attacked.

[During the Five Years SY was dead]

*Shang Qinghua watching Liu Qingge go every single day to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Qingqiu's body*

"Oh my Airplane.... It's not a enemies-to-lovers... It's not Teacher X Disciple... It's a bloody love triangle with both! Oh how much money this plot would've made me 💔 I would've been able to pay for four months worth of rent and groceries!"

Random Disciple visiting An Ding: "Um.... Is Shang-Shibo okay? He fell on the ground?"

An Ding Disciple: "Leave him. He does that sometimes. Now about your budget request..."

*Shang Qinghua screaming in the background*

Random Disciple: "..."

An Ding Disciple: "..."

Random Disciple: "Should we check on–"

An Ding Disciple, now dragging other disciple away: "Let's settle this at your peak."

Years later when Bingqiu have already had their wedding and everyone has become somewhat tolerant of their relationship, Shang Qinghua just sighs loudly and Shen Yuan asks him what's up. Shang Qinghua looks him in the eyes and just shakes his head.

"My ship...💔"

"..."

"OW– Why did you have go hit me on the head!?"

"Because I don't want to know what's going on in there and I need to make sure what's in there stays in there."

#svsss #shang qinghua #shen jiu #liu qingge #shen yuan #liujiu #liushen #broke shang qinghua days 💔#imagine what was going through Shang Qinghua's mind when he started seeing his scum villain being nice to everyone #“You're not allowed to do that! That's against Protocol!”#Shang qinghua really thought they were in a enemies-to-lovers hurt/comfort fix it fic #Turns out he's stuck in Luo Binghe's self insert fanfic 💔#Yue Qingyuan: “Shang-Shidi we have to prepare a budget for Qingqiu-Shidi's wedding”#Shang Qinghua: “Oh? Really! Oh wow I thought Liu Qingge was never going to get his act together—”#Yue Qingyuan: “Oh no it's for Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe.”#Shang Qinghua: “...” *Incoherent screaming*#“MY ENEMIES TO LOVERS ARC 💔!”#ooc I know but canon is a recommendation we ignore #I based this mostly off me writing some scenes for ocs and realising I liked a ship other than my 'canon' one more #shen qingqiu #bingqiu

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mountttmase · 4 months ago

Text

All That Matters

Note - merry (early) Christmas everyone 🩷 I’ve missed writing dad Mase and he’s just the most precious Christmas angel in this one. I hope you like it and feedback would be very much appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6.4k

Warnings - fluff and smut

‘What’s that pout for, pretty girl?’ Mason asked as he snaked his arm around your waist. His lips pressing the most gentle kiss to your temple but you just shrugged and pursed your lips.

‘Dunno I just feel a bit meh’ you told him. Feeling a little guilty that you were ruining today a little with your mood but thankfully Mason was the only one to pick up on it and you were hoping it would stay that way.

Christmas was usually your favourite time of year. You just loved all of it and since you’d had the kids, it had only made it more special. You loved decorating the house, cooking for everyone and picking out presents that you knew the special people in your life would love more than anything and the fact Mason was also big on Christmas made it even more fun. A chance for you both to reflect on another year of your lives you’d spent together, learning and loving the other one just like always but there was something about this year where you just couldn’t get into the spirit like usual.

Right now you should have been in your element. You were at your favourite garden centre, surrounded by beautiful twinkling lights as the smell of hot chocolate and sweet treats floated through the air, all whilst the kids got more and more excited about what they were about to do. Discussing with each other their Christmas lists and what they wanted to say to the big man himself but you were more focused on the little boy who was strapped to your chest and looking up at you adorably. His tiny cheeky smile was so much like Mason’s and everytime he directed it your way you felt a wave of happiness and love flood you.

‘Well you better turn that frown upside down before Santa sees it. He might ask you to sit on his knee so he can cheer you up and I won’t be having that’ Mason suddenly butted in, his words making you roll your eyes but you knew he was only trying to make you smile and you could feel the corners of your mouth turning up automatically.

‘Will you stop it’

‘Sorry baby’ he laughed. Pulling you into his side so he could drop a kiss on your head but even his affections went making you feel much better this time. ‘Tell me what’s up’

‘It’s just…’ you trailed off. Not knowing how to vocalise your thoughts anymore just in case you sounded silly but Mason being Mason could read you and when he tipped your chin up so you could look at each other you felt a little weight lifted.

‘What baby?’

‘This is Ryley’s first time seeing Santa right?’ You started. Watching Mason's confused face as he listened on but you knew he was really trying for you.

‘Yeah?’

‘So how many more of his firsts are we gonna blitz our way through in the next month?’ You asked him but he still looked a little bewildered and confused. ‘This is the last time we’ll ever take our baby to meet Santa for the first time. The last time we’ll get to buy one of the kids a my first Christmas jumper or buy them a special bauble for the tree. I just can’t believe we’ve got here like life is going way too quickly for me’

‘Oh sweetheart’ he pouted, squeezing your side to let you know it was okay and he understood but that didn’t mean you still weren’t going to be moody about it. The pair of you had decided that once Ryley was born then that would be it for your family, no more babies so you weren’t struggling and were able to give the ones you have all the love in the world. You were most definitely still on board with your decision but as you made your way through all of Ryley’s firsts it hit you they were also your lasts.

‘Doesn’t help Ollie is basically an old man at this point and probably won’t even believe in Santa next year. Like when did he get so big?’ You asked, eyes filling with tears that you tried to sniff away but Mason knew you were upset and the sad smile on his face didn’t do much to help you feel any better.

‘You forget my love, Tilly is absolutely mental and will probably still believe in him until she’s 15 just to spite everyone else’ he whispered. Kissing your cheek as he stroked the back of Ryley’s head softly. ‘And this munchkin, well he’s basically fresh from the womb. We’ve got loads of time left with him’

‘Mason he's one in two months’

‘Who’s next?’ you suddenly heard. Looking up to see a younger girl dressed as an elf smiling at the five of you widely and you knew you had to pep yourself up a bit. Placing a hand each on Ollie and Tilly’s shoulder to push them forward a bit as you could tell they were a little apprehensive.

‘That's us guys, come on don’t be nervous. You’ve been waiting all year to see the big man’ you reassured them and your heart almost broke when Tilly reached up to hold Ollie’s hand to ease her nerves.

Ollie let Tilly speak to Santa first, the pair of them getting over their nerves a little bit and you listened intently as to what she was asking for so you could make a mental note as to what you needed to get. Doing the exact same with Ollie but just as you’d expected his list was just full of books and comics.

‘Who’s the little one then?’ Santa asked as soon as Ollie was done and you smiled as you began to undo the straps on your papoose to get him out but before you could speak Tilly was telling Santa who he was about to meet.

‘That's my baby Ryley’ she told him, making Santa laugh as you sat him on Santa's knee but you made sure you stayed close just in case he got scared. Thankfully for you Ryley was fine and seemed more curious about him than anything else. Wanting to reach out and touch his beard as he showed Santa his new trick of poking his tongue out, something you figured Tilly had taught him, so you took it upon yourself to speak on his behalf.

When it was time to go, just after you’d all had your picture taken with the main man, Santa let the kids pick a little present out from his bag. Ollie grabbed one for Ryley too but Tilly was straight over to Mason as she figured something was wrong.

‘Daddy, are you gonna sit on Santa's knee and tell him what you want?’ She asked and you nearly dropped Ryley as you tried to put him back in the papoose as you were laughing and wondering how he was going to works his way out of this one

‘Nah it’s okay baby, I’ve uh… I’ve emailed him mine and mummy’s list already’ he told her as he looked to Santa for some back up and thankfully he caught on.

‘That's true’ Santa smiled. ‘I had a look at it this morning’

‘Come on then, say thank you to Santa’ Mason smiled. Picking Tilly up and popping her on his hip as he guided Ollie out and back to the main shop. You’d promised them you’d get them a treat on the way out so you made a stop in the food hall for a gingerbread man iced to look like Santa for the two older ones before popping everyone back in the car. Passing Ryley a biscuit you’d already packed for him as gingerbread was a bit tough for him and he smiled back at you widely before tucking in.

It wasn’t a long drive home, but Mason had his hand in yours the whole time as he softly sung along to the Christmas songs on the radio. Normally you would be singing along with him but you didn’t feel like it today. Your eyes flickering in between the view outside and your mirror so that you could check up on Ryley but he was conked out already. His little chubby fingers wrapped around Tilly’s as she munched on her biscuit with her free hand and the whole scene made your heart thump in your chest.

When you got home you got Ryley in as carefully as you could so he’d stay asleep and popped him in his room for a nap. The house was unusually quiet and when you were done with Ryley so you went in search of Mason who was laid on the sofa with the tv on quietly and Nala curled up curled up at his feet.

‘Where are the others?’

‘Ollie’s reading and Tilly’s just over there’ Mason told you quietly. Nodding over to the other sofa opposite where Tilly was also fast asleep with a blanket thrown over her little body.

‘Why is she over there?’ You laughed, walking over to Mason who was holding his arms out for you and even though you knew what would happen if you laid down with him, you still went with it. Needing his comfort more than anything as you were feeling so fragile.

‘Cause she’s like a little ball of fire when she sleeps and anyway I wanted us to talk without waking her up’

‘What about?’ You asked. Trying to play dumb but just frowned at you as you nuzzled into his neck, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that day.

‘You feeling any better?’ He asked, lips on your forehead as he stroked your back softly. You loved the way he cared so much and was so concerned about you but you still felt a bit silly and unsure as to how to vocalise your feelings.

‘A little bit’

‘You expect me to believe that?’ He whispered and you couldn’t help but giggle. No matter how much you tried to hide anything from Mason it never worked so you did your best to explain what was going on inside your head and he listened along intently. Never making you feel silly or stupid about your feelings no matter how insane you thought you sounded.

It was just a lot and you felt responsible for all of Christmas. That wasn’t because Mason didn’t help, there was only so much he could do with his busy schedule and you knew anytime you did need help he’d be there but you wanted to make sure everyone had a good time. That on top of trying to make Ryleys first Christmas a memorable one was causing everything to crumble around you.

‘Do you remember your first Christmas?’ He asked after you were done ranting. Stroking your jaw gently as he looked at you but as much as you tried to think your mind was blank.

‘No’

‘I don’t remember mine either, pretty sure Ollie doesn’t and Tilly doesn’t remember what happened yesterday half the time’ he joked making you chuckle as you nuzzled into him. You knew he was right, there was no need to be so stressed as Ryley was still so little and wouldn’t remember it anyway but you still wanted to make it a special time for everyone no matter how down you were feeling.

You had to stop talking eventually when Tilly woke up and saw the pair of you having a cuddle without her. To say she wasn’t best pleased was an understatement and you tried to hold in your giggles as she sleepily stomped over to you and demanded to join. Mason was right though, she felt like a human radiator and you could feel yourself overheating but you didnt move. Now Ryley was here it wasn’t often you got time like this with just your baby girl so you held her just as tight as Mason was holding the both of you.

As the weeks flew by, you made it through all of Ryley’s firsts just like you thought you would. Finding the perfect my first Christmas jumper for him, letting him choose his special bauble for the tree by holding two up and getting him the one he reached for. You’d taken him Christmas shopping which was so busy and hectic you’d vowed to do the rest online but you had managed to pick him up his first stocking with a big R embroidered on the front.

Shopping online was pretty easy in the end and you managed to get most things without needing to go to an actual shop. It was a week before Christmas though when you were double checking everyone’s lists and you knew you were missing something.

It wasn’t something Tilly had written down on her list to send to Santa but something she’d asked for when she’d seen him. Telling you later on that day that she’d done that to see if he was actually listening and would bring for her and now you felt like you were about to ruin the idea of Santa for her forever.

It was a singing Olaf toy from Frozen. The new it toy apparently and everywhere you looked it was sold out. All the big toy stores, the little ones too and even the independent ones near you said they would be out until the new year and you cursed yourself for not remembering and getting it sooner. It was just another thing that had fallen to the back of the queue after everything else that had occupied your brain and when you told Mason later that night he told you not to worry and to leave it with him to fix. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that but you trusted him and left him to it.

Next on the list of forgotten things was the Christmas food shop, remembering the next night that you should probably get it all in the basket and checked out before it was too late and once Mason was putting all the to kids bed you sat in the kitchen and got to work.

‘You okay in here gorgeous?’ You heard, looking up to see Mason had popped his head around the doorway and you sent him a soft smile. ‘Kids are all in bed’

‘Thanks baby’ you uttered. Rubbing the heels of your hands into your eyes to try and wipe away some of the tiredness you felt but before long you felt Mason's hands on your shoulders as he tried to work out some of the knots that had formed.

‘You alright?’ He whispered. Dropping a kiss to your head as his fingers worked their magic and you had to stop yourself from groaning in pleasure.

‘I’m okay, just doing the Christmas food shop and trying not to forget anything’ you chuckled. Pulling out the chair next to you so he could take a seat as you talked him through everything you’d picked and thankfully you had everything. You had both agreed you’d do it online this year as there wasn’t much time to go to the shops and the thought of trying to get everything with the kids in tow filled you with nightmares. Thankfully they said they had slots available at such short notice and once Mason had gone through everything you only had to add in a few extra bits that he wanted. When you came to check out you though you felt deflated once more and Mason was eyeing you curiosity. ‘I don’t believe it, there’s no good bloody slots available. 4pm on Christmas Eve is the last one’

‘That’s okay baby, it’ll still get here on time’ he reassured you. Kissing your temple softly as he could see you were getting stressed again and with a big huff you paid for your order even with the delayed delivery as you didn’t really have any other options.

‘Sorry I feel so unorganised this year, feels like it’s all going wrong’ you laughed as you shut the laptop down. Mason was pulling you into his chest immediately after though and you felt yourself relax in his embrace.

‘Don’t worry, it’s fine. Nothing will go wrong as long as we’re all together, yeah?’ He reassured you and even though you nodded you couldn’t say you were completely agreeing with him right now. ‘Can I help with anything? Maybe I could start on some wrapping?’

‘It’s late Mase, don’t you wanna go to sleep?’

‘Nah, let’s blast some of this out and then we can head up. We’ll feel better when we’ve got a bit done’ he reassured you and you spent the next half an hour wrapping up a big chunk of presents so you made sure to give Mason a big kiss to say thank you as knowing that part was taken care of had lightened your load a little bit.

It was 4pm on the dot on Christmas Eve when the food shop turned up. Not exactly the best time but you left the kids and Nala in the living room with a movie on and some snacks whilst you and Mason got to work bringing it in but Mason got stuck talking to the driver who turned out to be a United fan in the end so you got started putting everything away.

You knew something was wrong as soon as you started unpacking the bags. Some of the stuff was what you’d ordered yet a few things weren’t and when you got to the most important part you could have torn your hair out.

‘Sorry love, thought I’d do my good deed and have a chat with him. You getting on alright?’ he laughed as he walked into the kitchen but you were facing away from him so he couldn’t see how upset you were at first. It only took a small, barely audible sniff from you to grab his attention and within a nanosecond he was crossing the kitchen and gently cupping your jaw to look at you. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

‘It’s all wrong, they’ve swapped a load of stuff out and we haven’t got half the things I need’ you gulped. Tears slowly falling down your cheeks as everything finally got the better of you. This Christmas had been overwhelming to say the least but you’d tried to put on a brave face through it all. This was the straw that broke the camel's back though and as Mason pulled you into his chest you sobbed as quietly as you could.

‘Come on baby, surely it’s not that bad’ he told you lightly. Swaying you from side to side as he kissed your head but in your mind this was a disaster. ‘Sit up here and tell me what’s wrong’ he told you, pulling away so he could pop you up on the island counter and once he was settled in between your legs you began to list everything off.

‘They’ve sent the wrong stuffing mix, that dessert you wanted they’ve swapped for something completely different, all the veg looks weird and they’ve sent us millions of potatoes’

‘That doesn’t sound so bad, I’m not really meant to have too many sweets so maybe it’s a blessing in disguise’

‘We don’t have a turkey’ you pouted. Your eyes welling up again as both looked over to the big plastic wrapped bird sat a few feet away from you on the counter and a questioning look settled over Masons features.

‘What’s that then?’

‘It’s just a really big chicken’ you sobbed. Hands covering your face as you began to cry even harder than before and you knew that you looked completely ridiculous crying over a chicken. Mason pulling you back to his chest and you could feel him trying to hold in the laughs as he rubbed your back.

‘Baby come on, you’re alright’ he whispered but unfortunately his words did nothing to calm you like they normally did and you carried on sobbing until he pulled away and held your jaw so he could wipe your eyes. ‘Hey hey hey, look at me’ he whispered. ‘I couldn’t care if it was a turkey or a flying fucking pig okay? As long as tomorrow I’m sitting round the table with you and the kids, that’s all that matters yeah? Christmas is about being together not what’s on our plates’ he told you with a smile and you knew he thought you were completely ridiculous.

‘I just feel like a rubbish mum’ you sniffed and the look of hurt that flashed across his face made your heart hurt.

‘Please don’t say that he pouted. ‘You’re the best mummy in the world I promise. You’ve worked so hard for all of this for us and you know me and the kids appreciate everything’ he reassured you before a tiny smile tugged at his lips again. ‘You know what? I hate turkey, It’s dry as fuck. As for the kids, I don’t think they’ll even realise okay? You don’t have to get upset about it’

‘Are you sure?’ you sniffed. His words lifting you slightly when he nodded back at you. ‘I knew I should have got one the other day. It’s too late to go and get anything now and they’ll be sold out anyway’

‘Right well let’s sort this all out and make a plan, yeah?’ He smiled. Tapping your thigh before popping a sweet kiss to your lips and you couldn't believe how lucky you were to have him.

It didn’t take that long for you to work everything out. Going through the list of the swaps and whilst it was inconvenient, Mason made you see things would just have to be a little different this year and that it was fine. That maybe some of them could be new traditions for your family and that you still had all the main bits you were just making this year more memorable with a few changes.

‘I’m sorry for getting so upset’ you sighed once everything was away and you had more of a plan for tomorrow. Wrapping your arm around his waist before he pulled you into a cuddle and the warmth of his body relaxed you like nothing else.

‘You’re upset because you care and that’s exactly what I love about you, okay?’ He told you softly. Kissing the top of your head as he stroked up and down your back. ‘Now come on, we can catch the rest of the film before we put the kids to bed’

Even after you told them all they had to to have an early night and that Santa would only come if they were asleep you could tell it wasn’t going to be an easy night for you. The eldest two were excited beyond belief and even though Ryley was so small it was like he could feel the change in the air and was just happy to join in. Crawling around on the floor with Nala so he could follow Ollie who was pretending to run away slowly and all three of them found it hilarious. Tilly in hysterics as she giggled away but little did you know it would be Mason that would make it all worse. Tickling her tummy until she was laughing through her tears and you knew it was about to be a long night.

It was chaos, but you loved your little family so much and it made your heart happy to see how excited everyone was and how the kids were none the wiser to your mixed up emotions this year. There was so much love in this room and you couldn't take your eyes off of Mason as all the kids piled in on him. He was right, just like usual, and as long as you were all together tomorrow then you’d be fine.

You managed to regain a little bit of control when you told them it was time to put snacks out for Santa. Mason telling them they should put a brownie and a hot chocolate out instead as he bet Santa was sick of mince pies and milk but you knew it was just because he didn’t want another one and would prefer something chocolatey. Ollie wouldn’t have it though and told him that he wasn’t risking Santa not stopping by because they’d put the wrong snacks out and you made a deal that you’d eat the mince pie if he drunk the milk and took a bite out of the carrot.

Once you knew they were all asleep you got to work arranging all the gifts in their own little sections before placing some under the tree. You could tell you were both exhausted though so you did what you could before traipsing back upstairs and collapsing into bed. Not bothering to set an alarm as you knew the kids would be waking you up early anyway but to your surprise it was Mason that woke you up before anyone else. His hands lightly massaging your waist as he kissed your neck from behind and you were hoping he might let you have a little bit of well needed stress relief after the last few weeks.

‘Merry Christmas, beautiful’ he whispered into your neck. The sound making your skin tingle as you could tell my the tone of it that he was after the same thing you were craving.

‘Merry Christmas, Mase’

‘If my calculations are correct, we’ve got about 15 minutes before the kids come looking for us’ he whispered lowly and the sound made you shiver.

‘Oh really?’

‘Mhmmm. You gonna let me give you an early gift?’ He whispered and if you weren’t so turned on you would have found it strange how you were so in tune with each other. That didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him a little bit though.

‘I’m not sure, Mase. Have we got time?’ You asked innocently whilst rubbing your behind all over his lap and you knew you were having the desired effect as he gripped your waist tightly.

‘Don’t doubt me’ he whispered, a smile evident in his voice. ‘Just stay there baby, let me take care of you’ he told you but you felt his warmth leave you almost immediately. Hearing him moving around behind you but when you saw his boxers fly over the top of you and drop to the floor you knew what he’d done. Giggling as you felt his body heat return and when his lips touched your neck you moaned quietly.

Even though Mason had gone to the effort of undressing himself, clearly he was too impatient to wait until you were also undressed because you felt his fingers push your shorts down slightly and your underwear to the side shortly after. His fingers dragging up and down you deliciously until he popped them in his mouth and got back to work.

As much as you loved it when he was teasing you like this, you also knew you didn’t have that much time and you wanted to feel him properly so you started to buck your hips back into him a little more in hopes he’d get the message and thankfully he did. Feeling him shuffle a bit after a second or two before gripping himself and guiding his way inside you as carefully as he could.

You felt yourself melt into the sheets as soon as he was inside of you. Feeling him drag in and out of you deliciously as the familiar thickness of him made you shiver once more. No matter how many times you were in this position it felt better than the last but you knew where you were and the possibility that little ears might be able to hear you soon so you covered your mouth and did your best to keep quiet.

‘Don’t be shy baby, I wanna hear you’ Mason murmured in your ear. His voice strained as he lost himself in you and clearly you had to remind him why you couldn’t let loose.

‘’Remember where we are’ you chuckled, feeling him sigh into your neck before he began to pull out but within a flash he’d pulled you onto your back and was pushing inside you again. His lips on yours to silence any moans the pair of you were making and as much as you were in your element you could tell he was holding back a bit now. ‘Masey, please’

‘What is it, baby?’

‘M-more please’ you breathed. Wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close and the little chuckle that fell from his lips excited you.

You werent went quite sure what he was doing, but he moved all of his weight over to one side so he could lean on one arm. His free hand now moving its way up your body until he reached your neck and the slight squeeze made you groan in delight as his hips began to snap back and forth quicker.

‘That’s it, that what you wanted?’ He cooed in your ear. The soft sound of his voice a stark contrast to how he was treating you right now but you couldn’t get enough. You loved it when he was a little rough with you like this and you could feel your thighs tingle in pleasure.

‘Mhmmm’ you moaned, letting him capture your lips once more to silence you.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he breathed into your mouth and before you knew it, it was getting too much for him. Ducking his head into your neck as you threaded your fingers through his hair so you could pull on it slightly just how he liked.

It was the wet kisses he was pressing into your neck that finally tipped you over the edge. Moaning into his shoulder as he quickened his pace but he was finished just after you and the little giggle that left his lips warmed your heart.

You’d barely caught your breath before you heard the footsteps running down the hall and Mason stiffened in your arms. Immediately knowing he was completely bare under the covers and if Tilly was up to her usual then this wouldn’t end well.

‘Fuck, what am I gonna-‘

‘Just lay down it’s fine’ you giggled as Tilly burst into your room. Running straight over and into your arms and you tried to hold in your laughs at how awkward Mason was being but it was hard when Tilly was so excited.

‘Santas been!’

‘Has he?’ You beamed, watching her excitedly roll off the bed so she could run over to Mason behind you but before she could, she managed to pick up Mason's discarded underwear off the floor and pop them on her head like a hat. Clearly too overcome with excitement to even think about what she was doing but Mason was mortified as he watched her run around your room in the black Calvin’s he was previously wearing not too long ago.

‘Tilly baby’ you giggled, jumping up so you could take them off of her head before flinging them back to Mason and he caught them before stuffing them under the covers. ‘How about we go and get Ollie so we can see what Santa left us and daddy can go and wake Ryley up?’ You told her. Taking her hand and walking her out of your room as you shot Mason a look over your shoulder, just in time to watch him blowing you a kiss.

Ollie was already awake which made things easier and you were only waiting for a few minutes for Mason and Ryley to make an appearance. Ryley still sleeping soundly by the looks of things as his little face was nuzzled into Masons neck so they both sat in the arm chair and you all let Ryley wake up a little bit more. Nala coming to join you moments later and she seemed confused as to why you were all up and awake but she sat herself by Mason and watched what was going on intently.

The eldest two were chomping at the bit to get started so you let them go. Helping them pick the right presents for the right person and clearing up slightly after them as they went but you loved watching them get excited with each new gift and the noise had Ryley interested so Mason came to join you with him for a bit so he could get involved.

The kids were most of the way through the presents and you knew Mason hadn’t been able to get the toy Tilly so desperately wanted. She was clearly excited and happy about everything she’d received but you knew she was looking for it and with each present opened her hope was waning.

Mason told you he’d sorted it and you didn’t know if he was hiding it somewhere for an extra special surprise but when you gave him a nervous glance he just winked at you before searching under the tree.

‘Oh wow, Tilly have you seen this?’ Mason asked as he sat back up and when you looked over he was holding a thick white envelope with her name perfectly inscribed on the front. ‘What does that say baby?’

‘Tilly’ she smiled, pointing at herself as it was one of the few words she could read and Mason nodded at her proudly.

‘That's right, it’s for you’ he told her, passing it over. ‘Why don’t you open it and maybe mummy will read it to you?’

You watched her scurry over. Passing you the official looking envelope that you quickly tore into quickly before opening up a typed up letter on some Santa stationery and you sat her on your knee so you could read it together.

‘Oh wow Tilly, a letter from the big man himself?’ Mason smiled and you knew she was beaming back at him. ‘Thats huge’

‘Santa mummy’ she squeaked. Your heart melting at the effort Mason had gone to to keep his little girl happy.

‘I know baby. That’s nice of him isn’t it, and you can wait can’t you?’

‘I can wait’ she nodded, holding her letter like it was the most important thing she’s ever received.

‘Good girl’

‘Ollie look’ she shouted. Jumping down from next to you so she could show him her letter and he seemed impressed by what he was seeing.

Mason was coming over to sit with you soon after with Ryley cradled in his arms and a few unopened gifts for you to open with him. Letting Ryley tear the paper as best as he could after you’d started him off to reveal a few new soft toys and some things to chew on but soon enough Ollie needed help trying to set up a new game he’d been gifted. Mason handed Ryley over so you could cuddle up together and give him his morning feed in peace, knowing you needed a few moments alone with your boy before the chaos of the day took over. Mason also hadn't gotten involved too much this morning as he sat with Ryley and you knew he wanted to spend some time playing with the kids.

‘Merry Christmas little man’ you whispered. Stroking his head gently as he looked up at you and you felt so full of love you wanted to squish him. His little hand stroking Nala next to him and you knew it was a comfort thing to have her close by when he was having a feed. ‘You probably won’t remember any of this but it’s all a little messed up this year. I’ll make sure it’s all fixed for next year though, and you can join in a little bit more, yeah?’ You told him. Hoping he understood what you meant somehow but even if he didn’t you were still excited for what the day held.

One of the big gifts you’d bought Ryley was a walker and whilst the kids were occupied with looking at their gifts, Mason put it together as you made the pair of you a coffee. Popping him in it after it was done so he could get a feel for it and soon enough he was walking around and crashing into everything. Your bright idea now seeming like a nightmare as he tried to run from room to room and bounce off the walls but Mason thought it was hilarious and was following after him to try and record Ryley on his little rampage.

‘Thank you, Mase’ you told him as he came into the kitchen to get his coffee you’d made him but he stopped in his tracks at your words.

‘What for?’ He asked curiously. Placing his hands around your waist as he pulled you to his body and you couldn’t resist reaching up and kissing him softly. This morning had been crazy but it was the first time in a while you hadn’t felt so rubbish about everything and you knew it was him you had to thank for that.

‘For talking me down everytime I’ve wanted to have a hissy fit these last months’ you smiled. ‘And for reminding me that Christmas is about us just being together’

‘I’ll tell you everyday if you need me to, you know that right?’ He whispered, pecking your lips softly once more. ‘I mean it, everything that’s good about our family comes from you and I’d never want you to think what you do for us isn’t good enough when my life with you is more than I could have ever asked for’

‘Masey’ you pouted. Your eyes filling up for a whole different reason and when he softly placed a kiss on your nose you couldn’t help but let them spill over.

‘Hey, no tears on Christmas’ he winked, wiping your cheeks. ‘I mean it though, you’re the best mum and wife and friend I could have ever asked for and we love you so much’

‘I love you too’

‘Are you ready to see what Santa got you now the kids have had their gifts?’ He asked, hoping a change of subject would cheer you up a bit and it worked as you were itching to see what gift he’d pulled out of the bag for you this year.

‘Yes please’ you giggled. Letting him take you hand and walk you back into the chaos that was Christmas morning in the Mount household.

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one-green-frog · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! I was so happy when I saw that your requests were open for your platonic yandere batfam series, also I’m sorry if I send in too many, just do the ones that interest you bc I can’t wait to see them!!

Can I please request them dragging you to a family movie night and sleepover (if you want) together

Snuggled in

By now, it felt like you had lived at the manor since the very beginning. The grand halls, the endless corridors, and the hidden nooks and crannies—all of it was as familiar to you as the back of your hand.

Your life had settled into a new normal. Or at least, as normal as it could be when surrounded by the Wayne family and their complete and utter devotion to you. They were obsessed, and you knew it. Their attention was intense, overwhelming at times, but you had grown to accept it. Maybe even crave it. The way they cared for you, how they anticipated your needs before you even voiced them—it was comforting, intoxicating even.

Earlier today, Dick had texted you.

"Movie night. I'll come get you later."

There was no room for declination, not that you wanted to refuse. Movie nights were one of the best things about living at the manor, especially when everyone was present. It wasn’t just about the films—it was about them, about the closeness, the warmth of being surrounded by people who made you feel safe. Sure, you loved spending time with them individually, but when they were together, it felt like a real family, a family you never wanted to leave.

So, all that was left to do now was wait, to enjoy the "calm before the storm."

It didn’t take long before Dick appeared in your doorway, his signature grin in place as he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you toward the theater room. His grip was firm—just a bit tighter than necessary, as if he feared you might pull away. As if he was still afraid you might reject them.

You knew they had doubts. That paranoia whispered to them constantly, telling them that your love for them wasn’t real, that one day, if they let their guard down, you’d disappear. It hurt knowing they feared that, but at the same time, you understood. They knew what they were doing wasn’t exactly right. The way they needed you, the way they clung to you—it was too much, even by their own standards. And yet, they couldn’t stop.

And you? You didn’t fight it. Maybe you should have, but deep down, you liked the way they cared for you. How they made you feel wanted.

When you arrived, everyone was already there, and unsurprisingly, a spot had been saved just for you. Judging by the tension in the air, there must have been a fight before you got here. The privilege of sitting next to you wasn’t something any of them would just give up. It seemed that this time, Damian and Dick had won, both looking entirely too pleased with themselves while the others shot them varying degrees of annoyance.

But now that you were here, no one dared to argue.

Time with you was precious, something none of them wanted to risk ruining. You were the one thing that held them together, that kept them from spiraling apart. They all knew it.

“Jason, why don't you pick the movie?” you said as you settled into your seat.

Jason raised a brow, looking mildly surprised but pleased. He was always good at picking movies, always knowing exactly what suited your mood. Sometimes, he chose thrillers, knowing you enjoyed the adrenaline rush. Other times, he picked romances, sweet and indulgent. No matter what he chose, you knew it would be perfect.

But in the end, the movie never really mattered.

Because the real highlight was always the closeness, the warmth of your family surrounding you.

Dick wasted no time wrapping himself around you, his body practically molding to yours. He had always been the most physically affectionate, taking any excuse to hold you. On your other side, Damian leaned against you, quiet but solid, his presence grounding. He never admitted it, but during movie nights, he always ended up snuggled against you like a cat seeking warmth.

Time passed in a comfortable blur. The others rotated around you, each finding a way to be close. Jason would ruffle your hair as he got up to grab snacks, Tim would drape himself lazily against your side when exhaustion took over, and even Bruce—ever the stoic—would rest a steady hand on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there.

It was getting late, the movie long ended and the comforting presence of everyone slowly lulled you to sleep. You tried to fight it, wanting to enjoy the moment more, but at some point you lost the fight with sleep.

Your head grew heavier, your body sinking into the warmth around you. The others noticed almost immediately. Their voices quieted, movements slowed, as if afraid to wake you.

Bruce was the first to move. Carefully, he lifted you into his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, while Dick untangled Damian from your lap. He fell asleep first and somehow always ending up in your lap, snuggling into you as if seeking your warmth. The transition was smooth, practiced. They had done this before.

Your room was dark and quiet when Bruce laid you down, pulling the blankets over you with practiced ease. He lingered, brushing a hand through your hair, his eyes never leaving your face.

You had saved him. Saved all of them.

Bruce had long believed that some wounds would never heal, that his family would remain fractured, bound together only by shared tragedy. But then you came along—his son, his light, the one thing that brought them back together.

There were many things he regretted. Things he would never be able to fix.

But with you here, it felt like he had a second chance.

That was enough.

And as he sat beside you, watching over you as you slept, he let himself believe—just for tonight—that everything was exactly as it should be.

Taglist: @lilyalone

This was so much fun writing!

Thank you so much for requesting, I'll get to your other ask as soon as possible!

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rabioa · 2 months ago

Text

˙⋆✮Vampire Town✮⋆˙

TWST Modern Vampire AU

Featuring Rook, Idia, and Riddle <3

Imagine you inherit an old manor from your eccentric grandmother and decide to move there. Your grandmother swore up and down on the supernatural, and even though you didn't believe her, you still loved her. The house is on the outskirts of a small and cute town, but little do you know, the town of Night Raven is a secret haven for vampires and humans to live peacefully together.

A/N: Hi guys!!! Welcome to a new au i thought of <333 I was inspired by @r-aindr0p with their rook x rollo supernatural au. Reading it made me realize how fun so many twst boys would be as vampires >:) I have so many ideas about this au that I need to work out. I know the direction I wanna go with Malleus is, and I have a vague idea about the octatrio that idk if it is too weird lol. If you have any questions or asks about this, then send them in!! Anyways, happy reading!! <3

Update: here's Malleus, Leona, and Kalim in this au: Royalty Bites

🏹 Vampire!Rook who you saw as a shadow out your window in the first week. One day, you catch him staring at you through your window and you freak out on him. After that, you're closing the curtains in your room and ruining his favorite stalking people watching past time!!

🏹 Vampire!Rook who is bemoaning the loss, is determined to get in your good graces and this time do more than just peep through windows. He's leaving gifts of game, animal skins, and other trinkets. You've even gotten some rather expensive jewels from him! Each item is accompanied by a letter that borders creepy and romantic. He compares the jewels to your eyes and says they pale in comparison. He gives you skins of pretty creatures he found, stating how you are worthy of such luxuries and more. The game is his way of making sure you're well taken care of, as he writes about the importance of eating healthy. Some parts are in French and you have to pull out a translator app for them, but you're just kinda stunned.

🏹 Vampire!Rook who one day hears some burglars trying to break into your beautiful home, and non non, he cannot allow them to harm his precious little human! He handles them before they can even get in, and you see him do that and... well, maybe he's not as bad as you thought. After all, he's protecting your home. Hell, he didn't even mention the noble act, acting the next day as if everything was normal. After that, he does fall into your good graces. Now you (sometimes, if he's not being overly creepy or annoying) into your home! He still leaves you game but he seems to prefer watching over socializing often, so you leave him be. He seems harmless enough...?

🎮 Vampire!Idia who's in your walls!! Well, not really. It turns out your grandmother allowed a vampire long ago to live in a small room for free. You didn't know he was in your house. There was a door that was stuck closed, and the window pointing into the room had thick black curtains covering it. One night, when you had to slip out to do something, you see the window is open.

🎮 Vampire!Idia who screams when you enter his room through the window. You scream too. You're both screaming. He has the audacity to throw a Hatsune Mike plushie at your face and it baffles you enough to stop your screaming contest.

🎮 Vampire!Idia who you demand to know why is in your house and he demands to know why you're in his room. You thought vampires couldn't enter without getting permission! Was it all a lie? It turns out, it was true. He just gained permission from your grandmother to enter that room, and he's never left it, so he didn't need permission to enter a room he's already in. You think he's joking, but after hearing the slang he uses, you could believe in another eccentric vampire being friends with your grandma. You leave him be in his room (although he's now forced to unbarricade the door from the bookshelf covering it) and you occasionally pop in and socialize him. You still haven't figured out how he feeds yet. How does he get humans when he's in his own bubble? Oh well, that's not your problem (you hope).

❤ Dhampir!Riddle who is the sheriff of the town. On the first day of you moving in, he pulled up and gave you a thick book of rules you must follow. He also told you a few rules for the day and pointed out various rule violations of your house (the bushes in your yard are overgrown by six inches and you are to say the exact words "Welcome in dear guest," whenever you let someone into your home). It turned out the rules are meant to help accommodate vampires and humans living together, and although some rules do seem straight-up nonsensical (you can't have certain flower combinations in the front yard and certain combinations in the backyard, unbirthdays parties cannot have chamomile tea, and hedgehogs always have the right of way on streets amongst other absurd rules).

❤ Dhampir!Riddle who invites you to an unbirthday party after you get accustomed to vampires. The party turns out to be a delight! You meet some new vampires and humans, and party with them. It's a bit odd, to have a pleasant conversation with him before he suddenly shouts at Ace, a fresh vampire, to not wake up a mouse sleeping in a teacup before he returns his attention to you, chatting away as if he didn't just turn red in the face.

❤ Dhampir!Riddle who enjoys chatting with you and has taken it up to visit your house at least once a week as a "security check," since he knows the manor you live in is a vampire magnet. These checks are just him giving stern warnings about breaking rules until you can coax him into your kitchen to share some pastries with you. He's unused to your natural curiosity as you always ask him about Dhampirs. They're rare, and you're just trying to understand the world you've discovered. He turns a cute red when you ask him to open his mouth to inspect his fangs. He obliges but is flustered the entire time. It's cute to see him so flustered and perhaps even relaxed with you.

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eternlmoonshine · 2 months ago

Text

missed connections ☾ spencer reid

summary: one night with spencer was never supposed to mean anything- until he was gone by morning. now, you can't shake the feeling that it did. pairing: spencer reid x reader warnings: fade to black smut (no actual explicit content, just heavy making out), slight angst wc: 4k masterlist.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the empty space beside you.

At first, it didn’t register. You were still half-asleep and groggy, cocooned in the lingering warmth of the bed and mind foggy with the remnants of last night. You stretched, reaching out instinctively, expecting to find solid warmth- the steady rise and fall of a chest under your fingers. But instead- nothing.

The sheets were rumpled- the only proof that someone had been there at all. They still held a faint trace of body heat, but it was fading fast. Your fingers curled into the fabric as you rolled over, blinking against the soft glow of the morning light filtering through your curtains.

That’s when it finally hit you.

Spencer was gone.

Your stomach twisted. A sharp pang of bitter disappointment settled deep in your chest. You scanned the room, heart thudding a little too hard as you searched for some kind of sign. Some indication that he’d left in a rush- that he’d wanted to say something but hadn’t been able to.

But there was nothing.

No note. No text. No stray belongings he might have forgotten.

No sign that Spencer had been here at all.

For a long moment, you just laid there. Staring at the ceiling. Trying to make sense of it.

It’s not like you were new to one-night stands. You’d done this before- woken up to an empty bed and shrugged it off. Moved on without a second thought. But this? This wasn’t the same. Last night had been different.

Spencer had been different.

It hadn’t been just about attraction, or alcohol-fueled impulsivity. The way he had touched you, kissed you, held you- it had been so deliberate. So intentional. He had looked at you like you were something precious. Something to behold. Something worth remembering.

And yet, he’d left.

The rational part of you tried to explain it away. Maybe there had been an emergency. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to take you. Maybe he’d meant to leave a note but got pulled away too quickly.

But no matter how many excuses you tried to conjure up, the same nagging thought kept creeping back in- what if you’d imagined it all?

What if it hadn’t meant anything to him?

You let out a slow, shaky breath, rubbing a hand over your face. God, how stupid were you? You’d let yourself believe, just for a moment, that maybe this was more than a fleeting encounter. That maybe Spencer- awkward, brilliant, and unexpectedly charming Spencer- wasn’t the kind of guy to just leave without a word.

But apparently, you’d been wrong.

And the worst part?

You hadn’t even exchanged numbers.

Your chest tightened. It was ridiculous how much that small detail stung. If you had his number, at least you could’ve reached out, even just to say something stupid, like hey, am i crazy or did last night mean something to you too? But now, there was nothing you could do but accept that he was gone.

Just like that.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to sit up, the sheets slipping down your bare skin. The room felt strangely colder now- too big and too empty- like it had lost something vital overnight.

You had work to do. A life to live. You weren’t about to let one night- or man- ruin your day.

Even if it hurt way more than you’d care to admit.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

It had started like any other night.

You were at a bar with friends, unwinding after a long week. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the atmosphere buzzed with energy. You weren’t looking for anything in particular- just a fun night, some good company, maybe a little harmless flirting.

That’s when you saw him.

He was sitting in a corner booth with a group of people, all of whom carried themselves with an air of quiet authority, their eyes sharp even as they laughed loudly and sipped their drinks. But that wasn’t what caught your attention.

It was him.

Tall, lean, slightly awkward, but devastatingly attractive. Tousled brown hair, warm hazel eyes, a presence that felt both out of place and intriguing, and the kind of face that made you want to know every thought running through his mind. He looked like the kind of man who belonged in a library or a lecture hall more than a bar, like he was here by accident, or maybe someone had dragged him along.

And then he caught you staring.

Your stomach flipped when his gaze met yours, direct and unwavering. He didn’t look away. IF anything, his lips twitched, as if he was amused by your attention.

“Well, damn,” your friend whistled beside you, following your line of sight. “He’s cute.”

“Very.”

“Go talk to him.” You scoffed. “I don’t even know him.”

“Well, then get to know him, then.”

Before you could come up with a response, you caught movement at his table. One of the guys sitting next to him- broad shoulders, confident smirk- nudged him and whispered something into his ear. The man you’d been watching rolled his eyes, looking exasperated, but after a beat, sighed and stood up.

And started walking towards you.

Shit.

You sat up a little straighter, heart picking up speed as he approached.

“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth and deeper than you’d expected.

“Hey.”

He smiled. “I’m Spencer.”

You gave him your name, and the moment it left your lips, he repeated it- like he was committing it to memory.

“So, Spencer,” you teased, tilting your head. “Did your friend over there ask you to come talk to me?”

His lips twitched. “Something like that.”

You hummed. “Well, I’m glad he did.”

He blinked, clearly not having expected that response, and you laughed.

“Relax, I don’t bite.”

Spencer chuckled, a sound that sent warmth curling in your stomach. There was something about him- something unassuming yet magnetic, like he wasn’t entirely sure of his own charm.

And then the conversation started.

At first, it was light. Playful.

“Okay, so tell me, Spencer, are you the kind of person who always comes to bars with their friends but never enjoys it?” you asked, swirling the last of your drink in your glass.

His lips parted slightly, like he was caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

You smirked. “You look like you’d rather be literally anywhere else. A little stiff, and a whole lot uncomfortable. Like you were dragged here against your will.”

Spencer huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Not against my will, exactly. More like… strongly encouraged.”

“Ah, your friend over there?” He followed your gaze back to his table, where the man who had nudged him earlier was now watching with an entirely too-satisfied smirk. Spencer sighed.

“Yeah, that’s, uh- that’s Luke.”

You had no idea who Luke was, but you sent a mental thank-you in his direction. “Well, I think he had the right idea.”

Spencer’s brows lifted slightly, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. “You do?”

“Mhm,” you leaned in slightly, resting your chin on your palm. “You’re interesting, Spencer.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “That’s… not usually the first word people use to describe me.”

“No? What do they say?”

He hesitated, then admitted, “Smart. Awkward. Kind of a know-it-all.”

You grinned. “And are you? A know-it-all?”

Spencer pursed his lips, pretending to think about it. “Statistically speaking, the term ‘know-it-all’ is often used to describe someone who shares an extensive amount of knowledge in conversation, usually unprompted.”

You grinned. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.”

He smiled, soft and slightly self-deprecating. “That’s a yes.”

For some reason, you liked that about him. There was no arrogance in it, no condescension- just pure, unapologetic intelligence. And you wanted to hear more.

“So… what’s your thing?” you asked.

“My thing?”

“Yeah. You know, that one topic you could talk about forever. The thing that lights you up. Everybody has a thing.”

Spencer studied you for a moment, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then, he said, “Books.”

You grinned. “Ah! I knew you were a book guy.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “What gave it away?”

“Something about you just screams ‘has an excessive number of books at home’.”

Spencer’s lips twitched. “I have over three thousand.”

Your jaw dropped. “Three thousand? You’re kidding.”

“Technically, three thousand and sixty two, but I haven’t done a full inventory recently.”

You stared at him for a second before shaking your head. “Spencer, that is both incredibly impressive and deeply unhinged.”

He chuckled, a little self-conscious. “I… really like to read.”

“I can tell.” You tilted your head. “Okay, next question. Favourite book of all time?”

Spencer didn’t even hesitate. “It’s impossible to pick just one.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious!” he leaned forward slightly, mirroring your posture without realising it. “It depends on the genre, on my mood, on what I need at the moment. Sometimes it’s Salinger, sometimes it’s Austen. Sometimes I need philosophy, sometimes poetry.”

Your smile softened. There was something about the way he spoke- so passionate, so unguarded- that made your chest tighten.

“I like the way you talk about books,” you murmured.

He blinked. “I- thank you.”

You toyed with your glass. “You know, I wasn’t really planning on having a deep conversation tonight.”

Spencer’s lips quirked. “Me neither.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoed.

The air between you shifted, something charged settling in the space between words.

You didn’t know exactly what this was, but you knew one thing- it wasn’t just flirting.

This was something else entirely.

By the time you leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Do you wanna get out of here?” you weren’t sure who wanted it more.

Spencer exhaled sharply, like he’d been waiting for you to ask.

“Yes.”

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

The moment you entered your apartment, Spencer was on you.

For someone who had seemed a little shy at the bar, he was anything but hesitant now. The door had barely clicked shut before his hands were on your waist, gripping you with a confidence that sent a thrill down your spine. He pulled you flush against him, your bodies pressed together so tightly you could feel every inch of him. His lips met yours in a searing kiss- hot, insistent, and hungry.

You gasped into his mouth, and he took advantage of it, deepening this kiss as his tongue slid against yours in a way that had your knees going weak. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head just the way he wanted, taking control and making heat pool low in your stomach.

You barely made it to the bedroom.

Somewhere along the way, our jacket had been abandoned on the floor, his fingers making quick work of the buttons on your top. You tugged at his shirt in return, frustrated with how much fabric was still between you. He chuckled against your lips, a deep, breathless sound, before he helped you push it off, revealing the lean, toned lines of his body,

“Better?” he murmured, his mouth ghosting along your jawline.

“Not even close,” you whispered, fingers trailing down his chest, nails scratching lightly to see how he’d react.

His breath hitched.

Suddenly, you were being lifted, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you effortlessly to the bed. You barely had time to process before he was on you again, kissing you like he was trying to memorise every inch of your skin. His hands roamed, mapping the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the softness of your thighs.

By the time the last of your clothes hit the floor, you were already breathless, already overwhelmed by the way he touched you- like he wanted to learn you, piece by piece, not just in lust, but in fascination and reverence.

He took his time, lingering, teasing, making you shudder with every brush of his fingertips, every slow, deliberate press of his lips against your skin. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t just about need. It was about something more.

And maybe that was what made the next morning hurt the most.

Because for one brief, beautiful moment, you’d believed that this was the start of something real.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You pushed your thoughts away as you got ready for work, shoving your feelings into a box you didn’t have time to deal with. You focused on your routine- brushing your teeth, fixing your hair, picking out something to wear- anything to keep your mind from drifting back to the empty space you’d woken up to, and the warmth that had faded from your sheets too soon.

It was fine.

You’d move on.

You always did.

But as you left your apartment, stepping out into the cold morning air, you couldn’t ignore the hollowness settling in your chest. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just one night, that you hadn’t expected anything more. But the truth was, some part of you had hoped. Some part of you had wanted to wake up to sleepy smiles and tangled limbs. To a quiet good morning instead of a deafening silence.

As the hours passed and the weight of the day settled on your shoulders, you tried to lose yourself in work, in emails, in meetings, in conversations that barely registered. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the sting of disappointment.

You couldn't stop replaying the way he had looked at you, the way he had touched you- not just with desire, but with something softer, something that had felt real.

And you couldn’t help but wonder- was Spencer thinking about you too?

Or had he already forgotten?

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

“Rough night, Reid?”

Spencer glanced up from the file he was supposedly reading, meeting Luke’s knowing gaze across from him.

“What?”

Luke smirked. “You’ve been staring at that page for the last ten minutes. Either you’re just really invested, or your mind is somewhere else.”

Spencer blinked, realizing he hadn’t turned the page in… yeah, ten minutes sounded about right. He’d been so lost in thought, playing last night over and over in his head- your laugh, the way your eyes had sparkled under the dim bar lights, the way your fingers had absentmindedly traced over the rim of your glass as you listened to him talk.

The way you had looked at him.

Spencer swallowed, forcing himself to focus, but the heat creeping up his neck betrayed him.

Luke’s smirk widened. “See? That right there. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not-” Spencer started, but before he could even attempt to deny it, JJ, Emily and Tara were already looking up, intrigued by the conversation.

JJ arched a brow. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Reid’s got something on his mind. Oh wait, I think it’s a someone,” Luke said, all too pleased with himself.

Spencer sighed, shutting the file with a quiet thud. There was no getting out of this now.

“I, uh… I met someone.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Oh?” Emily’s lips curled into a grin. “Do tell.”

Spencer shifted in his seat, already regretting having said anything. “At the bar, last night. We… talked. A lot. And then…”

Luke leaned in, clearly enjoying this. “And then?”

Spencer exhaled. “And then I went home with them.”

Silence.

Then-

JJ nearly dropped her tablet. “Spence, you had a one-night stand?”

Emily whistled, shaking her head in mock amazement. “Damn. Look at you, all grown up.”

Even Tara let out a low chuckle. “Now, that is unexpected.”

Spencer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can we not make this a thing?”

“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Tara said, grinning. “Come on, Reid, spill.”

Luke leaned back, arms crossed. “So, what’s the problem?”

Spencer hesitated. “I had to leave early. The case came in, and I didn’t wanna wake them. I didn’t have time to leave a note.”

JJ’s expression softened. “And you didn’t get their number.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping. “No.”

The team exchanged knowing glances.

“Reid,” Emily said, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want to see them again?”

The answer came without hesitation, without even a moment’s pause. “Yes.”

Luke’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by something a little more genuine. “Then maybe that wasn’t just a one-night thing.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed, like the thought had never even occurred to him.

JJ smiled softly. “Spence, you wouldn’t be sitting here, staring off into space and smiling to yourself if it was just a random hookup.”

Emily nodded in agreement. “You like them. That’s not a bad thing.”

Spencer swallowed, unsure how to respond. He liked you. That much was obvious. But was it more than that?

His mind wandered back to the way you had looked at him like you wanted to know every thought in his head, the way conversation had flowed so easily between you, like you’d known each other for years instead of hours.

Luke nudged him with his elbow. “Maybe this is the start of something new, man. Ever think of that?”

Spencer let out a breath, something twisting in his chest. “I… I don’t know.”

Tara smirked. “Well, you might wanna figure it out.”

The team didn’t press him any further, but as he turned back to his file, he knew there was no way he’d be able to concentrate now. Because the truth was, it hadn’t felt like just a night.

It had felt like the beginning of something.

And for the first time in a long time, Spencer wasn’t sure if he was ready for that or terrified of it.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Penelope muttered, fingers flying over her keyboard as she sifted through databases and public records.

Spencer stood behind her, shifting his weight from foot to foot, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I appreciate it.”

Penelope let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. “I swear, this is the most rom-com thing you’ve ever done. Like, full-on, standing-in-the-rain, holding-a-boombox-outside-a-window levels of hopeless romantic energy.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not-” He stopped himself because, honestly? Maybe he was.

She arched a brow. “You’re telling me you, Doctor Spencer Reid, never thought about just letting fate run its course?”

Spencer hesitated, glancing down at the floor. “I tried. But I couldn’t stop thinking about them.” His voice was quieter, more vulnerable than he meant for it to be. “I remember everything, Garcia. Every little detail about their apartment, the books on their shelves, the way their coffee table had a tiny chip on the corner like it had been there for years. I remember the way they looked at me when we were talking, like maybe- maybe they thought this was something, too.”

Penelope’s expression softened. “Oh, Spence…”

“I know it’s ridiculous,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “Statistically speaking, the chances of us running into each other again naturally are incredibly low. And I should probably just move on, but I- ” He swallowed, taking a breath. “I don’t want to.”

Penelope studied him for a moment before sighing dramatically. “Alright, Romeo, spill. What do you remember that can actually help me find them?”

Spencer exhaled sharply, trying to organize the flood of memories. “There was a college diploma on the wall,” he said, and listed the name of the university and the degree.

Penelope hummed, fingers already typing. “Okay, that narrows it down. What else?”

“There was a work ID badge on the kitchen counter,” he recalled, relaying the name of the workplace to Penelope. “It had a logo on it- something familiar, but I didn’t get a good enough look.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up. “That’s good. That’s really good. What else?”

“There was a framed picture on the bookshelf,” Spencer continued, “next to a stack of thick files and a few heavy reference books. It looked like a group photo- maybe coworkers? A team? It was taken outside of a building, probably where they work.”

Penelope whistled. “Damn, you’re good.”

Spencer ignored that. “They also had a mug on the coffee table,” he added, repeating the words printed on it. “It seemed well-used. It’s probably something they take a lot of pride in.”

Penelope beamed. “Oh, I love this. I’m on it.”

Spencer’s heart pounded as she worked. He felt ridiculous standing here, enlisting Penelope’s help for something that, logically, he should probably just let go. But logic didn’t seem to apply when it came to you.

After a few more clicks, Penelope’s face lit up with triumph. “Aha! Found them.”

Spencer leaned in. “Where?”

With a knowing smile, she grabbed a sticky note, scribbled something down, and handed it to him.

He stared at the address in his hands, pulse thrumming in his ears.

“Go get your happy ending, lover boy,” Penelope said, nudging him toward the door.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Spencer actually let himself hope that maybe- just maybe- he could.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You were just leaving work when you saw him.

Spencer Reid.

Standing outside, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked uncertain, nervous- even a little hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should actually be here.

Your stomach flipped. “Spencer?”

His head snapped up instantly, eyes locking with yours, and for a moment, you saw something like relief wash over his face.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little breathless, like he hadn’t been sure you’d actually stop.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped closer, exhaling, as if he’d been holding the words in for too long. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For leaving so suddenly. For not leaving a note. For making you think it didn’t mean anything.” His voice was quiet, but there was something so deeply sincere in the way he said it.

Your breath caught. “Did it?”

Spencer didn’t hesitate. His eyes softened, full of something you couldn’t quite name, but it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“It meant everything.”

You exhaled sharply, looking at him, really looking at him, and you realized that despite the nerves, despite the way he kept shifting like he was prepared for you to turn him away- he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t mean it.

“Then why did you leave?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I had to. I work for the FBI. A case came in, and I didn’t have time to explain. I didn’t want to wake you. I thought- I thought I’d find a way to reach out later, but then I realized I never got your number.” He let out a breathless, almost self-deprecating chuckle. “Which, honestly, was an incredibly poor oversight on my part, considering my job literally revolves around gathering information.”

You bit your lip, watching him.

“I tried to let it go,” he admitted. “I told myself it was just one night, that maybe it didn’t matter as much as I thought it did. But the truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. About us.” He swallowed. “And I couldn’t just leave it at that. I didn’t want to.”

You could feel the tension between you, the way the space between you seemed so much smaller than before.

Your voice was softer now. “So what do you want?”

Spencer smiled then, something slow and certain curling at the corners of his mouth. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Your lips twitched. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t uncertain.

It was a promise.

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enchantressiren · 2 months ago

Text

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟!❞

How to heal from your sexual trauma? (Detailed).

Masterlist ♡.

Author's note,

Two more pap are coming if you don't feel connected to any. Also, warm hugs to everyone. Much love.

Divider. (Edited by me).

Pile I.

Sometimes the people we trust are the people who turn their backs on us. And those around them will not bat an eye. Why should they? You were a child after all, and sometimes children lie so why ruin your male figure/uncle’s reputation, right? Like who cares, you were a liar. You lied about it all, so why should anyone believe you? Weren’t these your thoughts growing up? Didn’t you find yourself unworthy of love because of what your family said? How many times did your mother or aunt say it was your fault that it happened? That you should have covered your younger self's legs? How many times have they mentioned it for you to believe them and never heal from it?

How many times have you self-harmed because of their words? Cut, cut, cut. What makes it appealing to destroy your precious legs because of their words? What makes it appealing to harm yourself from anything they say? What makes anything appealing to please them? Do you think it is okay to harm yourself like this? Genuinely—if you were doing the same to your younger self, would it be okay then? What makes it okay compared to before? “Because they didn’t know, they were naïve and wrong! I have the right to do it now! You don’t get it!” Perhaps? But then again, what makes it truly okay for you to do it now? Why not do it to someone younger? Are you comfortable doing it to a victim of grooming? How about a baby survivor? Are you going to cut the baby’s legs because they got raped or groomed? Are you going to insult any survivor like yourself because they got touched? Is that okay with you?

It doesn’t feel right, now does it? It does not sound appealing to you anymore. The thought made you uncomfortable when it came to the baby. Some of you are questioning if it is possible for a baby to be raped and it is. You were a baby too when you got groomed, so why are you questioning it?

“I was not a baby, I was a loser that got touched. I should have done something about it, defended myself. At least pushed him away! It’s my fault! You seriously do not fucking get it, do you??” No. You do not get it. You were a baby when you were groomed by a male figure in your family. How can a baby consent to that? How can a child consent to that? Even someone who is legal would not consent to being groomed by a family member. So, I ask again, are you going to insult any survivor like yourself because they got touched? Is that okay with you?

Groom. Groom. Groom. This word keeps running in my mind like a wildfire. My mind is spinning and each time the word groom pops up, I feel nauseous. You felt the same as it was happening, and as you read this pile, those same fears are coming back to haunt you. Some of you have healed from your CPSTD or PTSD but have not treated yourself in the way you deserve: compassion. Those who did not suffer from the disorder, you have to accept what happened was not your fault. It was their fault. Your family members who have not said anything about it, have brushed it away, or blamed you for it are just as guilty as the male figure. Do you understand? It is their fault just as much as it is his. Not yours. Him.

Each of you is worthy of having someone appreciate you. And this is not coming from an intuitive perspective, more so with how I see it. I know that people have told you it is not your fault. And that you have tried numerous times to heal, to do better for your younger self or inner child, and focused on trying to be kind to yourself but failing with the lack of support. But support does not only come from family members, you need to remove those thoughts. They won’t help because they are just as guilty as him. You need to give yourself the support you have been seeking for a while. You need to find your support in different and logical ways rather than focusing on your emotional side. And you need to fully grasp that it is not your fault. Truly feel it. Don’t tell yourself, “yeah, it wasn’t my fault,” and move on as if it is nothing. Allow yourself to mourn it. It is not a disease to mourn your feelings and your past, and it is not always a bad thing to look into your past. Use your past to heal and fully accept what had happened and what is happening now. Stop treating those who are guilty as friends. They do not deserve your kindness nor appreciation when you compliment or gift them things because you feel pressured to by your mother or aunt.

Masterlist ♡.

Pile II.

“Mama, it hurts. Everything hurts. My bone hurts. My mind hurts. I wanna die, momma. I wanna die, momma! Just let me die, momma! A scream. I need to die momma, it hurts, it hurts—a slap—it’s what you deserve, child.”

A mother is supposed to take care of their child. Supposed to love their child, put their child above themselves, educate their child, protect them, and make sure they can survive on their own. A mother is supposed to give you the warmth you need and to give you advice in other affairs. A mother is supposed to be your role model, someone you want to grow up into, someone you want to be when you have a child. Your mother is supposed to be your best friend, so why was your mother your rapist? Why did your mother have to brainwash you into believing that you deserve to be spanked? To be sexually groomed by others for money? Why did your mother touch you like it was okay? Why was your mother the sole reason you are learning to understand what sex is all about through your current relationship or with yourself? Why is your partner or your comfort stuffed animal your provider when you have to deal with panic attacks from your mother? Why do you have to suffer from this when your mother is living in “heaven” or in a mansion? Why are people giving her an out just because she was a “great” mother to others, making sure they are okay and if they are eating? But when it came to you, it didn’t matter? Why did everyone ignore your screams and your heartfelt tears when you begged others for help? How come no one helped you? When everyone found out what happened, why was it okay to be gaslighted because there was no way your mom could do that? Why do you have to believe it was your fault and not hers? And why do you have to cry yourself to sleep hoping no one hears you when you remember every single detail of what happened while you struggle to sleep? Why me, why not her? Why? Why? Why?

Green man (synergy): “You have the advantage of an incredible synergy at this time. A flow of Life is guiding you, where things just seem to fall into place as you move about your business.”

“Mama, why do the trees grow brown and the leaves perish? Mama, why is the color of the snow yellow sometimes? Mama, why do you ignore my questions sometimes? Am I a burden? Yes. She whispers, Yes, you are.. my sweet thing.” She caresses your cheeks, gazing into your innocent curiosity, and smiles with maliciousness, 'such a sweet thing deserving of pain.' Mama, why are things the way they are? Because that is how God (or Gods) made them, my sweet child. Oh! That is so cool, mam— yawns, good night mama. Goodnight sweet child.”

Sweet child—were you a sweet child or a burden to everyone in your hometown? How did it make you feel to be one? Do my words sound harsh? I’m sorry, I am just speaking upon everyone’s words, those trigger words that have hurt you. Are you crying right now? Good—or so that is what they would all say. Right? Do you also think you should say the same to yourself too? Good? Good that you are crying! You deserve to cry, you deserve it all, you deserve all that was given to you, you deserve it, yo—do you? Do you really deserve it? I don’t think so.

I understand that you came here to LEARN how to heal your trauma, but I cannot give you the reading you seek. And I am sorry that I triggered you, but you had to be triggered so you could heal on your own. You DO NOT need anyone’s help but your own. You are all such a strong pile, I mean it. So so strong and so very resilient. An image of Hercules popped up and how he saved Meg; the same can be said about the attachment you have with the movie and your stuffed animal or partner. I cannot tell you how to heal as much as I would want to, nor can they do much to help you heal. But you have to accept what has happened and understand that you are ALLOWED to cry and feel the pain. To allow yourself to go back into the past and accept everything that has happened to you. You are allowed to stay in the past for as long as you want and stop allowing your subconscious mind to repress your memories. You are allowed to tell your attachments what really happened—allow yourself to say the truth to them. Stop hiding them because you are so ashamed of it. And you have absolutely no reason to be ashamed. You were a baby. A precious baby that deserved so much but didn’t have that. But now, you have to give yourself that love, or else you will never heal properly.

Channeled song

Why why why by Shawn Mendes.

Masterlist ♡.

Pile III.

Justice.

To be manipulated and tricked by your abuser and to be gaslighted by yourself—those troubles have been causing you pain. To have your so called friends abuse you sexually or rape you and then mock you must have hurt. To have shamed yourself for trusting them but blaming yourself must have damaged the friendship you had with yourself. To have become self-aware of what they wanted you to do must have made you fraught. So, why exactly did you follow through? If you knew they wanted to deflate your confidence just as you were with your guardians, how come you followed through? How come you had to gaslight yourself with what actually happened? Why couldn’t you be honest about it? You knew they raped or sexually abused you. You knew they were tricking you from the start; you knew they were going to drug you and let their friends take your virginity—so why did you allow it? Why? Why? I SAID WHY—

Can you keep your shameful and hateful thoughts to yourself and understand that you are not in the wrong if someone touches you without consent? There are no whys. Let it go and accept what has happened. If you keep letting this happen, you will let yourself go and become crazy. All your thoughts are always whys, it should not have happened, it is not their fault, why did I trust them, and did I, or what did I do to deserve this? What do you think you did to have had this happen? Nothing. Their main goal was to destroy your confidence since they were intimidated by it. So, how could that be your fault? How can you blame yourself for their distasteful personality and projection? It is not your fault, nor could it ever be.

The only thing that is your fault is allowing these thoughts to control your life. Stop living in your fears, stop letting your fears MAKE all the decisions for yourself. Stop saying your healed self will decide for you, or at least be stuck in the future and imagine what your future self would choose for yourself. Stop fucking neglecting your present self; it deserves your love and care right now, so make yourself a priority. How can you heal, or expect to heal and become your best self, if you are neglecting yourself? It’s impossible.

One thing I wanted to add was: those were not your friends, so don’t forgive them. I know that some of you are assuming that if you were to forgive them, then you could move on from your trauma. But you will never move on from it. The person who needs your forgiveness is you. You have to learn to let go of this anger you feel for yourself. I understand that you could not protect yourself and therefore it should be your fault, but the problem with that is.. it lacks honesty. Some of you pride yourself that you are an honest person, but you are a hypocrite. A huge one—you are a liar to yourself. So take a peg down for a moment and be honest with yourself—you were raped or sexually abused, and even if you could have protected yourself, you would have dealt with the same issue. You cannot change or fix the past, what is done, is simply done and you must let it go. So let it go, forgive yourself, and—it is okay to hate on those who cause you harm. Ignore people who say otherwise, they do not know your story and do not deserve to control HOW YOU FEEL. You are ALLOWED!!! to feel angry. To feel hurt, disappointed, and so forth. So let it go and learn to trust yourself genuinely again. Okay? Okay.

Some of you are wondering how to let yourself feel those emotions without disrespecting someone else. Read that again. Why are you worried about disrespecting someone else when it is YOUR EMOTIONS? It is YOUR EMOTIONS, not theirs. You are allowed to feel, stop disrespecting yourself for someone else. Let me ask you something and tell yourself this answer honestly. Why do you feel the need to disrespect yourself for someone else? Is it based on judgment? Why are you feeling judged? Were you supposed to be emotionless your whole life? If so, understand this.

Emotions are emotions. Emotions are normal and it is OKAY to feel them. It is okay to feel disappointed, you do not have to be aloof for everything. If you want to feel them, then feel them and push your thoughts away. Those thoughts are taking away your personality, happiness, and sabotaging you. I know that ignoring those thoughts can be daunting sometimes, but I also know it is better to be scared than sorry. What I mean is, would you rather deal with a shitty outcome because you let your fear dictate your life, or would you rather have those fears but not act upon them? Which one sounds appealing to you?

Masterlist ♡.

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wicked-disposition · 2 months ago

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tw: blackmail. humiliation. power play.

The Secretary ; Jeong Yunho

there's always a lot of work to do, too many orders to obey, a lot of complaints to hear. and you love it.

you love to be the one ordering Yunho around, to see him doing his best so he can keep the job, swallowing his words to not disrespect you when you're actually being a bitch.

but he understands it now and at this point, it's just fun. you try so hard to affect him, so focused on getting on his nerves. you could have anyone you wanted, but you wanted him and that's flattering.

so when he comes in your office during the day, the annoying smirk is already on your lips and he knows you're ready to say something to put him in his place, as usual. but there's no time for it since he grabs you by the neck and pushes you against the wall.

you don't fight back, he can't even hear you complain like you love to do. His eyes examine you carefully in contrast at what his fingers do with your blouse, ripping it off, buttons spread all over the floor.

"i didn't think you would behave so well, but i guess all you wanted was to be a good bitch for me, right?" before you could answer, he turns you around, slamming your face and body on the harsh surface.

He pulls up your skirt and you push your hips against his, urging to feel something, needing more contact. your voice is desperate and whiny when you ask him to touch you and this only makes him smile wide. the fiery boss is nothing but a precious whore for him and you can't even deny it.

he wastes no time and slams himself inside your wet hole, being welcomed with your moans and warmth.

"the door is unlocked and you have cameras here. would you like to see someone stepping in and catching you taking cock like that?" he asks cunningly.

hips going harder, the sounds of your bodies hitting on each other just increasing, your moans getting louder, and you way too lost in pleasure to form any sentence.

"maybe i can get the recording and show my coworkers how good you are for me, i bet they would love to meet the real you." and this idea is not that bad for you, right? to have yourself embarrassed to this point, to have everyone to know you're just a filthy slut who craves cock?

you're clenching around him, swallowing him whole and begging for his cum, he just can't deny you that. so he gives it to you, thrusting nonstop so he can be sure you're filled with all of his load, your juices mixing up and staining your inner thighs.

he’s ready to leave the office when he sees everything is perfect, your shirt is ruined, you are dripping cum as there are many people outside just waiting for you to come out.

"i think our professional relationship will be better from now on."

“you just need to be a good girl and no one will know this is just a facade for the needy bitch you are."

he gives you one last look, a victorious smile on his face.

"good luck, with your meeting you’ll need it."

#yunho #yunho x y/n #yunho x you #yunho imagines #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho hard thoughts #yunho hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #jeong yunho

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bunnysnuff · 5 months ago

Text

Christmas kiss.

Pairing: Elphaba Thropp x reader.

Trigger warnings: none.

Request.

The snow fell softly outside, dusting the Shiz University campus with a light blanket of white. Inside, the warmth of the festive season wrapped around the students like a cozy embrace. The halls of Shiz were decked with garlands and shimmering lights, and the air was filled with the soft hum of carols and the scent of spiced cider.

It was Christmas Eve, and you had never felt more at home in this place. It had been a year since you and Elphaba had finally admitted what had been silently growing between the two of you for so long. Your relationship had blossomed slowly, but now it was as undeniable as the twinkling stars in the night sky.

You and Elphaba sat together in one of the common rooms, away from the noise of the bustling crowd. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across her emerald face. Her smile was as rare as it was precious, but it was all for you now, and that made your heart flutter.

"Are you enjoying the festivities?" you asked, sipping from your mug of hot cider, your eyes softening as you looked at her. "It’s not often we get to be around so many people, especially when they’re all in such a good mood."

Elphaba smirked, her usual skeptical expression softened by the comfort of the moment. "I’ll admit, it’s a bit charming," she said. "But only because you're here."

You blushed at her words, feeling your heart skip a beat. "You always know how to make me feel special."

She reached for your hand, her fingers warm as they intertwined with yours. "That’s because you are special," Elphaba said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of something deeper. "You’re the only reason this holiday season feels... different."

You smiled, leaning into her touch as the sounds of laughter and music echoed from the other room. But before you could say anything else, a mischievous voice rang out across the room.

"There you are!" Glinda appeared at the door, her blonde hair sparkling in the light, and her eyes full of mischief. "I’ve been looking all over for you two!"

Elphaba groaned softly, but you squeezed her hand, silently reassuring her. You had grown accustomed to Glinda’s antics over the years. It was never truly malicious—just... relentless.

Glinda grinned as she approached, her eyes flicking between you and Elphaba. "Oh, don't worry, darling," she said with a playful wink. "I’m not here to ruin your moment. In fact, I’m here to help it along."

You raised an eyebrow. "Help it along?"

Glinda's smile widened. "You’ll see." She stepped to the side, revealing a sprig of mistletoe hanging overhead, its delicate green leaves and red berries adding to the holiday cheer. "You two have been dancing around this for far too long. It’s time."

Elphaba’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked up at the mistletoe, then back at Glinda, who was practically glowing with excitement. "What are you—"

"You heard me!" Glinda interrupted, her voice almost sing-song. "You’re under the mistletoe now, so someone has to kiss someone."

You glanced at Elphaba, your heart pounding in your chest. This had been a long time coming. The spark between you both had been there since the beginning, but neither of you had ever made the first move. You had both been too shy, too afraid of ruining the quiet peace that had grown between you.

But now? With the mistletoe above, with Glinda practically giving you no choice... the moment had arrived.

Elphaba seemed to hesitate, her brow furrowing as she looked at you. "You really want me to kiss you?" she asked, her voice quiet but filled with uncertainty.

You smiled gently, stepping closer to her, letting your hand rest against her cheek. "More than anything," you whispered. "I’ve wanted this for so long, Elphaba."

Her eyes softened as she gazed at you, her breath catching in her throat. For a brief moment, you both stood there, the world outside fading away, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, magical space. And then, with a tender smile, Elphaba leaned in.

Her lips were as soft as you had always imagined, the kiss gentle but full of everything you had both been holding back. It was a kiss that spoke of years of unspoken words, of emotions too big to name, of the way your heart had always known it belonged with hers.

When the kiss broke, you both lingered, just inches apart, breathing each other in, as if savoring the moment. Elphaba smiled shyly, her eyes bright. "I… I didn’t think you’d want me like that."

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against hers. "I’ve always wanted you, Elphaba. More than you could ever know."

Glinda, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, clapped her hands together in delight. "Well, finally!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with glee. "I was starting to think you two would never figure it out!"

You turned to Glinda, smiling playfully. "We would’ve eventually, I’m sure. But we didn’t need you to play matchmaker."

Glinda grinned. "I only gave you a little push. You two were meant to be together, after all. It was written in the stars, or at least in the mistletoe."

Elphaba rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Glinda. I suppose."

With a laugh, Glinda winked. "You’re welcome! Now go enjoy your Christmas, you two." She made her way toward the door but turned around one last time. "Oh, and remember, there’s always more mistletoe where that came from."

As Glinda left, you and Elphaba shared another smile, your fingers still interlaced. The fire crackled beside you, and the world outside seemed to hold its breath for a moment.

You leaned in, kissing her again, a little longer this time, your heart light and full of joy. This—this was what Christmas had always been about for you. Not the decorations or the music or even the mistletoe, but the quiet moments shared with the person who made your heart feel at home.

And now, with Elphaba by your side, everything felt perfect.

#wicked imagines #wicked #wicked movie #elphaba thropp headcannons #elphaba thropp x reader #elphaba thropp imagines #elphaba thropp #wicked elphaba #elphaba x reader #my baby #bunnysnuff writes✨

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calummss · 2 years ago

Text

20 Reasons To Love You | Klaus Mikaelson

part one: 1920s Love : masterlist

summary: after your encounter with the original vampire, he asks you to the school dance. your salvatore cousins try to get in the way but you’re tired of being protected. you are starting to like the so called original vampire, but is it an illusion or the real deal

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 3.1k

a/n: part 2 is finally out. i love this piece so much because just like the first the reader is confident but unsure at the same time and i think that accurate describes me and many others. here’s to my fellow klaus mikaelson lover that love him as much as i do (not possible). enjoy!!

‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’

You stood at the door, too many words racing through your mind.

‘I don’t have a dress, I— well I never expected to go so I never bought a dress.” You sighed, each word becoming more airy as you managed to take him in. ‘I don’t have a dress…’

Dark blonde hair, pink plush lips, a white suit that fit him like a second skin. He was handsome. More handsome than you’d ever say out loud, the rumours of his behaviour and actions not scaring you, but making you tone down any infatuation that could be drawn out.

‘I thought it best you’d wear an actual dress from your decade,’ He nodded one of his witches over, his arms engulfed around a light pink box, a white ribbon decorating it. ‘I saved this for a special occasion.’ He smiled at you. ‘I think today is it.’

‘Original?’

‘Original.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ your eyes never left the box, ‘I would ruin it. It’s too precious.’

He gave his witch another silent order who pushed past you to walk into the house.

‘Hello?’ You shouted at her but she was long gone.

Klaus took a closer step, so close the smell of his perfume hit you softly, ‘Do me a favour and wear it, darling. You could only do it justice. We don’t have much time now. Change.’

‘But—‘

‘No buts.’

‘Fine,’ you sighed as you took hold of the dress box, your cheeks starting you shake the apples of your cheeks, smiling ear to ear as you finally held it in your hands. ‘Wait for me.’

‘Do you even have to ask, love?’

Returning a smile you hurried away, the dress screaming to be worn as you couldn’t believe that your frame would wear something so beautiful and of such good quality from decades ago. A decade that had long been your favourite. Wearing a piece of history, brought to you by a vampire everyone seemed terrified out of their minds.

When you finally got the dress on and fixed your hair as well as jewellery, you headed back downstairs. Your heels carrying you differently; at least you thought. Klaus still stood by the entrance outside, eyeing something in the front yard.

‘How do I look?’ You called out, his head turning in an instant.

‘Like the sparkles of an ocean on an early summer morning.’

Your heart fluttered. Never had you heard anything so romantic. Whenever you asked someone they simply said pretty. Barely paying attention to the way you looked but Klaus, Klaus looked at you like a canvas. Paying attention to every detail like he was an artist, captivated by his creation. Ready to hang it up to admire it all year around.

Arriving at Mystic Falls High School you already saw that the grounds had empty liquor bottles laying on the ground, waiting for someone to trip over. You almost were a victim. As for the people in this crowded area, they reminded you of the beer bottles: empty and pretty useless. But they were carefree; unaware of the reality that was Mystic Falls.

Every girl looked similar. All wore short flapper dresses and headbands only the colours differentiating them from one another. They looked beautiful but repeativness got boring fast. You however shined. A white satin gown, thin straps, insinuating your chest, the fabric gently hugging your curves as it pooled at your feet. Paired with a beautiful pearl necklace and a white fur scarf that completed the look. Simple but classy.

Walking up towards the entrance, you locked eyes with a certain someone you tried to ignore the entirety of the evening, but he saw you. The glare in his eyes causing you to stop in your tracks, his raven hair that blended into the night coming closer.

‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Damon.’ You mused, your right arm hooked with Klaus’, your other hand on his shoulder as you smiled at Damon.

‘Go home.’ Damon stated, his eyes drilling holes into your soul.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’

‘Actually I can,’ he smirked, his stupid grin spreading heat through your limbs. ‘I am your legal guardian.’

‘Only ‘cause you killed Uncle Zach,’ you snapped, taking your arms from Klaus’ body, stepping closer to Damon, asserting yourself against him. ‘Not very guardian like?’

Damon’s head scanned the surrounding area, making sure no one could listen in. ‘Don’t cause a scene, Y/n.’

‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘Again,’ he tried suppressing his voice, ‘don’t cause a scene and go home.’

‘No.’ You snapped. ’I am going to my school dance which by the way I have more of a right to be at than you, and enjoy dancing with my date.’

‘Date from hell…’

‘Well then he isn’t much different from you after all,’ you placed your arms back in Niklaus’ arm, giving Damon a sarcastic smile. ‘Move.’

Damon didn’t move, instead he stepped closer, his eyes continuing to stay on you, his lips pressed together.

‘You heard the lady,’ Klaus said. You didn’t look at his face but you could tell he was smirking at Damon. ‘Move, Damon.’

Klaus and you stepped past Damon, walking towards the entrance, the music increasing in volume as you stepped through the door.

Down in the gym, people were already dancing. Music blasting through the room, balloons, tinsel and much more of the decorations the walls and floor carried that you dragged yourself to every Tuesday and Thursday, dreading to move. Rather wanting to participate in every girl’s favourite subjects: English and history. Walking towards the dance floor you saw Damon walking up to Alaric, their eyes on you as soon as Damon whispered something and you knew that their eyes would follow your every move.

‘What are they saying?’ You asked Klaus, your eyes still on the pair as you started swaying in rhythm. Bodies close as you felt the warmth of his body.

‘Talking about various ways to ruin our night and all the ways they can kill me.’

You pushed your tongue against your teeth, staring straight ahead into Klaus’ shoulder. ‘Damon, I know you can hear me,’ you started to whisper. ‘Leave me and my dating life alone. I’m 19 years old, not six. And don’t you dare try to ignore me or roll your stupid blue eyes at me because I will rip that little smug of your face.’ You turned around to see Alaric and Damon go towards the punch table, visibly irritated on your behalf yet still they took the hint and backed off for now.

‘I knew there was a reason I liked you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Don’t hold back on my account.’ He chimed. ‘Feisty women are my weakness.’

‘I’m feisty?’ Not a word generally used to describe you.

‘Hmm, also confident; unsure; great company; an amazing dancer and best of all, not intimidated by me since the second you met me and found out who I was.’

You hesitated before speaking. Was it rude to ask such an invasive question? Would he answer it? Would it spark his mood to change?

‘Why is everyone so afraid of you?’ You asked in a careful tone, not sure if the vampire would switch up on you.

‘I do terrible things.’

‘People do terrible things all the time.’

‘I created new sins.’ His deep eyes gazed at you, his soft plumpish lips leaving every word ingrained into your mind, begging to know what his lips would feel like lingered onto yours.

‘Such as…?’

‘Let’s not get into it, love.’

‘I can handle it.’ You separated your body from his, staring up at him. ‘I have heard what you have done but I’ve also seen your actions: listening to me, talking to me and making me feel interesting, getting me a dress to a school dance I wasn’t planning on going to.’ You smiled slightly. ‘That takes a heart to do.’ You placed your hands above his chest, tapping lightly with an almost jestful tone. ‘And you have a pretty strong one.’

Klaus gazed at you ever so gently, his eyes flickered to your lips as his mind turned hungry at the thought of your kiss. Not craving the taste of warm blood, freshly pumped out of a human vein. No. He craved you in a way that was unfamiliar to him. Klaus wanted you to be close to him, to feel your heartbeat so close it would beat in union with his. To feel your lips on his skin, the taste of your skin without the blood. The thought of tasting your blood left an uncertain feeling in his stomach; quease mixed with disdain. He didn’t want to hurt you or leave a scratch on your skin. All he wanted was the moisture of his lips to sit upon your skin. Light, gently, accepted.

The sound of music faded when you realised you were leaning in. His eyes felt like paralysing poison as you inched closer. Your heart beat in your throat when his face came closer too. He too wanted this. You could feel his breath ricocheting off your face, and when your lips met the music stopped. His lips kissed you gently, coming back for more as one his hands slid towards your face, holding you delicately as the other went down to your back to support you. Your hands moved to his head, grabbing a handful of hair as you parted your lips to let him get a better taste of you. Your mind was blank, your stomach filled to the brim with butterflies that duplicated every second he was touching you; flattering their tiny wings as the space to move began to decrease. Every kiss grew more passionate. Air was flowing out, barely catching breath as he felt like the air you were supposed to breathe all along.

Separating from his touch you let yourself breathe, your chest falling and rising as you held his eyes, too beautiful to be true. Eyes that belonged to a killer that just held you like you were the most delicate flower.

‘Can we go somewhere more quiet?’ You leaned in, your social battery slowly decreasing as you craved a quiet and still place to be with him.

Klaus brought you to his mansion he bought a few weeks ago, saying he was to stay in Mystic Falls for a while. His house was filled with artworks of the most incredible artists. Each piece crafted to perfection.

Guiding you to a back room you took notice of different materials and colours. Canvases and easels to hold them up. One painting was finished by the look of your eyes. It stood on an easel in the middle of the room, close to a candle light that shined just enough to admire the painting.

‘May I speak out loud my interpretation of this painting?’ Your eyes scanned the framed piece, the candle gently casting a light above the painting. ‘I know that artists want to be understood as they pour their thoughts and feelings onto the canvas, yet someone else saying out loud what the artist was too cautious to say themselves, can evoke an uncomfortableness. That someone truly understands them is more often an artist's greatest fear.’

Klaus stood by your right shoulder, silently gazing at his painting from behind your frame. His silence, his breath, made you turn your head to the side. Just enough to catch his breath on your cheek, just enough to let the corner of your mouth tip curl, allowing you to feel his intimacy.

‘I suppose the painter felt lonely whilst crafting their piece. The way dark colours engulf the lighter ones. The way the colours meet but never mix,’

His hand gently brushed along the curve of your shoulder, giving you the insight of Klaus’ guard let down when he was immersed in his art.

‘Careful and precise strokes show me the delicacy behind the fragile thoughts that are meant to be the painter’s release. The small firefly, so tiny its illuminating glow is barely caught with the first impression of the painting, is fascinating to me. Despite the painter’s sadness and pain, there must have been something in the moment that compelled them to leave behind something so coruscating. Something tells me that the painter is trying to find their way. Whether it be to themselves or to someone.’

‘The way you analyse art, Y/n, is beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?‘

‘I suppose I find beauty in darkness quite fascinating…painting or painter,’ you placed your gloved hand on top of his. The warmth of his skin pervasively fighting through the silk fabric.

‘The firefly I must admit is you. You are the firefly in my thoughts. You glow amongst the darkest part of my mind. Just the mere thought of you makes me feel like I am a different man even if I don’t want to change…’

You turned around and gave Klaus a sweet but quick kiss. ‘You don’t have to change. I like you for who you are and I must admit, this night has made me realise just how much I actually like you. It feels fast but safe at the same time.’

Klaus returned it with another kiss. ‘Normally I like a chase but I simply need to be yours.’

‘Would you ever draw me?’ An innocent question, soft- eyed waiting for a response. A small smile sweeping across his face.

‘I actually already have,’ he said, his cheeks a fair rosé, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t pay attention but you, how you took notice of every detail that made him him.

‘You have?’ You grinned. ‘Why?’

‘I mostly paint things that mean a lot to me,’ he took a look at his paintings. ‘Mostly landscapes…and you…’

It warmed your heart but you didn’t show, only the palm of your hand pressing into your other, love overflowing your body.

‘I suppose one day I should return the favour, though I cannot promise you’ll look anything like the real you.’

Klaus let out a laugh, his eyes smiling like the crescent moon of night that shone over his garden outside. Eyes sparkling like the stars.

‘Would you like another dance outside?’ He asked, noticing your longing look at the porch, illuminated by fairy lights that left a magical feeling within you.

‘I certainly would.’

Holding out your hand you followed him outside, the slight cold breeze nothing but relaxing as you swayed with Klaus again. This time it felt nicer. Alone, just the two, surrounded by nothing but darkness and crickets of the summer night giving your silence a nice touch of tone.

‘I want to give you something,’ Klaus searched for something in his pocket. When he finally pulled it out he continued to say, ‘This vial contains vampire blood.’

You stared at the vile, red liquid calming floating behind the glass.

‘It’s my brother Elijah’s blood.’

Doe eyed and furrowed eyebrows stared back at him, ‘Why not yours?’

‘If I could, trust me I would. For a vampire there’s nothing worse than blood sharing with someone’s partner,’ he held your gaze. ‘But if I gave you my blood, little one, you would die.’

‘I don’t understand? Why would I die?’

‘Well here’s some information only my family and one witch know…I’m a vampire and a werewolf. A hybrid. If I were to feed you my blood you would die the next day. Bad blood.’

‘Oh,’ disappointment covered your words, weirdly enough bummed that it wasn’t Klaus’ blood you would be carrying around to protect you in case you needed it.

‘This blood is here for whenever you decide you want that change in your life you talked about.’ Klaus’ finger grazed against the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘I like you, Y/n and I won’t compel you to take it. I like you and if I could I would spend eternity with you. I know it hasn’t been long but you feel good for me.’

Your lips caught his. ‘Of course I will wear it.’

‘Make sure to keep it safe.’

‘I will.’ You hand found his face, giving in once more into temptation, his sensation too good for you.

You played with the vial between your fingers, a wave of warmth rushing over you as you realised just how much you liked Klaus. But as much as you liked him it was getting late…

‘I think it’s best that I go home. It is late and Damon and Stefan are probably going crazy…’

‘I’ll take you home.’

Klaus dropped you off just before the door, watching as you safely entered the Salvatore house. And before the door even closed you could hear Damon’s taunting voice echoing through the halls of the boarding house.

‘Where have you been?’

‘With my date.’ You carelessly threw the keys to the side, walking past Damon to try and get into the kitchen to get something to drink.

‘You can’t date him, Y/n.’ Damon growled, his eyebrows pulled to his eyes as his voice grew louder. ‘He’s a bad person.’

‘Who cares?’ You uttered, pouring yourself a drink as you watched Damon pace towards you.

‘I care!’

‘Since when?!’

‘Since always!’

‘Damon,’ You breathed. ‘I love you, I truly do but are you so blind to not realise that you too are a bad person? You used Caroline; killed Lexi, Stefan’s only friend; Uncle Zach? Why can those actions be excused by literally everyone yet apparently Klaus is where we all draw the line huh?’ Words spilled from your lips as the pit in your stomach started to burn a ball of annoyance. ‘Because he shows no remorse at all? Newsflash neither did you and just because you feel it now doesn't make your actions any more excused. I like the way he is. I like the fact that he is a bad person but a good person to me. Someone that finally pays attention to me!’

Damon stayed quiet, his face obvious to the hypocrisy that everyone was participating in yet he was still angry at you and the fact that you were capable of making your own decisions no matter how bad or good they were.

‘If he hurts you don’t come crying to me,’ Damon turned around to walk away.

‘Oh please as soon as I cry because of anyone that person ends up hurt. If you’re trying to pretend not to care about me, good luck.’

‘You wish.’

‘Ah fuck,’ you whinced, a wave of pain shooting through your finger.

Damon’s vampire speed brought his feet back to you, your hand in his as he took a look at what pained you.

‘Told you so,’ you mocked.

‘Ass hat.’

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luveline · 2 years ago

Note

id love to see eddie and a shy!reader at a concert. r is overwhelmed with the crowd and eddie is being his usual lovely reassuring self

love you sm!

ty for ur request! —eddie insists on taking care of you when you get overwhelmed in the middle of a concert. fem!reader, 1.3k

"This is insane, right?" Eddie asks. Or, yells.

The ground thumps with music. The drum feels as though it's being beaten against your own chest, heat at every angle, lights flashing above and roaming downward. You blink against the purples and blues, your hand sweaty in Eddie's.

"I'm sorry!" you shout, nodding down at your joined hands.

Eddie tucks a limp curl behind his ear. "I'm gonna give you the sweatiest kiss anyone's ever given!"

"Gross," you say, a half second before Eddie's pressing his lips to yours. You can feel the vibrations of the instruments through his skin. It almost tickles, but Eddie's rough touch helps.

It's a nice kiss, but there's so much going on. The crowd swells with a unanimous cheer as one song ends and another begins. Eddie yanks himself away from you to grin at the performance, whooping as his favourite guitarist takes centre stage for an intro. You gulp in dank air, the person standing behind you treading on your shoes for the tenth time in as many minutes, the person to your right smelling of pot and beer, sticky thick.

A firm arm curls around you. "You wanna go up on my shoulders?" Eddie asks. He must be pumping with adrenaline, his kisses quick and plentiful over your cheek as you attempt to answer.

"As if, Eds."

"What, you don't think I can get you up there?"

"I know you can't."

Eddie visibly registers your shifting mood. "Hey," he says, giving your shoulders a jog, "are you okay? You look like you're having a whitey without the smoke, babe!"

"I'm okay, I…" You blink sweat from your eyes. "I'm really hot."

"Take your jacket off, baby. I can hold it for you."

You shrug out of your damp jacket but feel the same. Still, when Eddie says, "Better?" you smile and wrap your arm around his.

"I'm good. Now shut up! This is my favourite one!"

You're not telling the truth, but your enthusiasm fools him. Eddie slides an arm behind your back and you hug each other from the side to sing along. You like the music and you love Eddie, you're not interested in ruining the precious couple of hours you have here tonight. You can grin and bear it. You have been for a while.

Or, you think you can, but you feel something warm on your leg, and you know it's just beer spilled from a crushed plastic cup, but your ears ache as the drum solo starts and fireworks burst at the front of the stage less than forty feet away. The crowd closes in. It's too much.

"Eddie, I think," —he turns to look at you, eyes sparkling— "I need to go to the bathroom. Okay?"

"I'll come with you!"

"No! No, stay here, we'll never get this close to the front again!"

"Are you kidding? What if something happened to you? I'd lose my mind!" Eddie nudges you toward the back of the venue. "Babe, I know the kind of creeps that hang around, I'm not letting you go by yourself!"

You're sick of shouting at him to be heard. "No, I'll hold it!" You won't ruin his night. "I'm okay, I– I swear!"

"Don't be stupid, let's go! It'll be nice to have a break from Doctor Marten," he says, looking quickly behind his shoulder at the perpetrator in question, the guy who keeps nipping your ankles with his thick gummy soles.

You shake your head. Eddie shakes his head back at you incredulously, twining your fingers together as he starts to fight his way through the crowd, dragging you with him. People are ten times as likely to let you move backwards rather than toward the front, and soon the air is cooling, your skin damp and cold as the fresh breeze finally reaches you. The crowd thins. You can stretch your arms out without touching anyone for the first time in nearly an hour.

The relief is enough to have you closing your eyes, savouring the sudden lack of input.

Eddie pulls your hand between both of his, calluses and rings and all the things you love about him scratching your hands as he squeezes you. "Feel better?"

You should've known he knew. Nodding sheepishly, you say, "Yeah."

Your breathlessness must endear you to him. Eddie's on you like a rash. Your jacket slips where it's tucked under his arm, but he doesn't let go of your hand, stepping with one foot between yours, his long hair brushing your chest as he closes the space between you.

"It's a lot, I get it," he says. His voice is rough from yelling, scratchy as hewn stone. "I meant to bring you those ear plugs and I forgot. I'm sorry."

"That's not your responsibility," you say, frowning.

He smiles at you. "You're my girl, aren't you? I look after you 'n' I like doing it." Eddie laughs, the sort of laugh that says, I'm really happy, I love you, and it's easy.

Or maybe you just want it to say that. Regardless, he bumps his forehead into yours and closes his eyes for a few seconds, rubbing your fingers between his mindlessly. "Take a minute. Chill. We can stay on the outskirts for the rest of the night if you need to."

You can deal with being uncomfortable, just not to the level you had been. That was dire. This is fine.

"Sorry for losing our spot," you say, pulling away from him.

"Sorry for putting you in a tough one, babe. How do you feel now? Any better?"

"Yeah, definitely." You pull your elbow up to wipe your burning cheeks.

"Better enough for a very public and disgusting kiss?" he asks.

"How disgusting?" you ask.

"Tongue, for sure."

"That's not that bad."

"Didn't say where, did I?" he asks.

"If you lick my ear I'm gonna have to go hide in the girls bathroom," you warn, flushing at the thought of it alone.

Eddie doesn't give you the kiss he threatened you with, only throws his arms over your shoulders to cup your head, lips pressed to your temple. He rubs your shoulders, and after a moment he starts to sway you both from side to side in time with the slightly less hectic song being performed by the band.

"Chill out," he murmurs. "I don't care where we're standing if I get to stand with you, loser."

You hug his back. You're uncomfortably warm still, but his touch is a remedy for the general frazzle of white noise that had been fizzing between your ears.

"Come on, let's go back," you say. The band starts on a song you know Eddie loves, you've heard it enough.

"I wanna be like, oh, no, I can't tear myself away from you, but I really fucking love this one," Eddie says. He gives you no less than six apology kisses against the bridge of your nose before spinning on his heel to usher you back toward the crowd. Not in the throng of it, but at least you're facing the right way. "Whoo!" he yells.

"Play it louder!" you shout, knowing no one can hear your individual voice over the cacophony. "My boyfriend loves this one!"

"I love this one!" Eddie shouts at the top of his lungs.

Your heart lifts at his huge, beaming smile. All the sweat and noise and raw ankles are worth it just to see him this ridiculously happy. He makes it easier, checking in on you periodically for the rest of the night, and persuading you to leave a little early to escape the rush. When he swings your tired arms between your bodies and declares it the best night ever, you know you can keep on coming to gigs no matter how crazy they get.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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