Emo Trinity x Reader

Patrick Stump x Reader - Moshpit

Requested on Tumblr
Warnings: nudity (no smut or making out though, just a harmless bath)
Word count: 1 500

No one had ever said that participating in a moshpit was a good idea, and you started to understand why. Honestly, the concert had been amazing. You loved Frank Iero and the Patience, and you knew the lyrics to all their songs and of course also to all the songs they had done when they had still been called Frank Iero and the Cellabration. It had been a lucky coincidence that there was a concert just around the corner and of course you had to go there. Maybe these concerts were not the most famous for moshpits, but there always was a small one somewhere, and you were right in the middle of it.

You were not exactly sure, what it was that attracted you to the pushing around and slamming your body into other people. Maybe it was a way of dealing with stress and the pressure that job and society piled up on you. Maybe it was just your animal instincts going crazy. Whatever caused your enthusiasm for it, you always had a fantastic time, especially when some of your favorite music was playing in a deafening volume. You sometimes thought it would be great if there was a club for moshpits. Like there were golf clubs, there should be one for moshpits where people could go and get the stress and anger and built up frustration out of their system. Who knew, maybe crime rate would sink?

The time afterwards was not so great though. Usually the rush of adrenaline got you home without noticing the damage your body had taken during the concert, but once you sat down in your living room, you started noticing the bruises and little cuts. Today you noticed even earlier since you had stayed after the concert to talk to the opening band.

You finally pulled into your driveway, recognizing your boyfriend's car parked there already. You had asked Patrick to join you for the concert, especially since he knew Frank personally, but he had been busy in the studio, recording his own music, so you had gone on your own. You were pleasantly surprised that he was home already. Often he spent half the night in the cramped studio, coming home only in the early hours of morning.

You got out of your car, whimpering quietly at the pain that sparked in your body, and limped over to the front door.

The hallway and the living room were dark but from upstairs there was a thin line of yellow light.

"I'm home," you shouted, knowing that Patrick had to be still awake; he always switched the light off before falling asleep.

The door to the bedroom got pushed open. The line of light grew broader and Patrick poked his head out of the room, his hair disheveled, and glasses resting on his nose.

"How was it," he asked, climbing down the stairs and switched on the light in the hallway. He scanned you for a moment, and raised his eyebrows. "Had fun in the moshpit again, I see."

You shrugged and immediately regretted it, since your shoulder hurt a lot.

"It was fun," you defended under his judging eyes. You knew he was no fan of moshpits. He hated violence and stopped every starting moshpit at his own concerts, scared that someone might get hurt.

"If you say so," he shrugged indifferently, but then the caring side took over and his stare got soft and worried, "do you need help cleaning up?"

"Yes please," you smiled, almost a little ashamed. You could take care of yourself of course, you had gotten into moshpits since you had been a teenager and no one had offered to look after you back then. But it was a sweet gesture, and you knew that Patrick liked to take care of you whenever he could, just like you spoiled him at every opportunity.

"Come on," Patrick bent down to untie your shoes and his t-shirt rode up a bit in the back, exposing some of his milky skin. You admired the view for as long as possible. "Uh, that looks nasty," he commented on a cut on your knee. At one point you had fallen, and scraped your knees, the ripped jeans offering no protection whatsoever. He helped you out of the shoes and then out of your jacket.

Together you walked upstairs to the bathroom. Patrick made sure to walk behind you, so that if you lost your balance he could catch you, but you made it upstairs without an incident.

"Wanna take a shower," Patrick asked and you nodded.

It would be good to get out of the clothes and get the sweat and dust off of your body. Patrick hurried into the bedroom to fetch your pajamas while you were getting into the bathroom to undress yourself. A first look in the mirror confirmed what you had already guessed; your body was plastered with forming bruises and a few cuts on your knees and hands. You heard Patrick suck in the air as he stumbled into the bathroom.

"Hasn't been this bad in a while," he commented, his eyes again scanning your body.

You shrugged, again regretting it because of the pain it caused and walked over to the shower. "It was worth it."

"Maybe you should take a bath, instead of a shower," Patrick suggested, "so you can better relax."

"Are you going to join me," you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Nah, I'm gonna watch," Patrick grinned.

He walked to the bathtub and turned on the water, adjusting it to how he thought it would be the best for you. He let you check and then put the stopper in, helping you into the warm water.

You hissed at the burning the water was causing on the cuts and grazes, but soon the pain subsided and you felt your muscles relax from the warmth. Patrick was playing around with his fingers, dipping them into the water or running them over your arm. You knew that one or two years back, you would have been terribly embarrassed if Patrick saw you naked like this, but over the course of the relationship you had gotten used to each other's bodies and nudity had stopped equaling sex.

You relaxed into the warm water, your eyes heavy from exhaustion, but you kept them open, and watched how Patrick's glance followed his fingers in the water.

"Do you want soap," Patrick asked after a while.

"Yes please," you nodded and he got up to hand you some shower gel, his shower gel.

You grinned and squeezed some of it into your hand, rubbing it carefully over the parts of your body where the skin was not damaged.

"Let me do your back," Patrick offered and you handed the shower gel back to him.

A few moments later you felt his hands spread some of the gel on your back. He kept massaging you for a while, doubtlessly grinning at the little hums you let out. After that he also spread shampoo in your hair and helped rinsing it out.

Fifteen minutes later you were lying in bed next to him, smelling of his shower gel and shampoo, freshly dried hair, bandaged cuts and grazes, and wearing a fresh pajama. Patrick climbed in next to you, his eyes fixed on your form and an unreadable expression on his face.

"What," you asked, turning your head to face him a little more; it hurt a lot to move just the slightest bit.

"I just..." he shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again and looking at you, "you're just so perfect, and I love you so much..."

Your insides felt like they were glowing at his words and you reached a hand out to cup his face and pull him closer.

"I love you more," you whispered before you closed the distance between your lips.

He kissed back immediately, carefully, yet demanding and so full of love that you thought your heart had to burst.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he hummed, each time placing a kiss on your lips, making you giggle.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you laughed quietly, melting into his fingers that gently moved over your skin, careful not to press too hard against the fresh bruises.

"Of course," he laughed, kissing you again, "shall we turn off the lights?"

"Yes, please," you agreed and he turned away to switch off the lamp on the bedside table.

In the dark you felt him move back to your side, and as soon as he had found a comfortable position, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, placing your head on his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat and his calming breathing. Sleepily he draped his arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss on your forehead, then both of you slowly fell asleep, safe in each other's presence.