#i wish it was even just 5 minutes longer
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The evil slow creep of it being like "haha these will just be quick little side quests, not much effort at all!" and then noticing each one is getting progressively longer than the last, thus no longer being minimal effort.. auGh....
#The jump of 76 for the first one to 275 for the most recent ghghjb#what can I say.. I am.. The Elaborator.. The Detail Giver..#number six will HAVE to be shorter....!!!!!! !!!!#I fear it's going to look this way but opposite with some of the main character quests. The first character I ever worked on. like their#first quest I added wayy to much information and detail and side options and etc.#Once I got done with all their stuff I was like.... if they're all like this I will NEVER finish.. So then I tried to be very short about#it all. EVERY single interaction cannot have 10 branching dialogue and 5 different endings and blah blah blah.. as much as I wish it could.#Hiring a butler to stand over me all day shouting ''NARROW the scope!!!! REDUCE the options!!! CUT the dialogue!!!'' whilst I sob#and hit backspace on everything once every five minutes#But that means probably the first character I worked on will be very obvious because their quests might have a different#feel than the others and be longer.. I just CAN'T make ALL of them that long. but maybe I could choose one..#Like out of the four characters that will have full quests for them upon release.. maybe I can add another one thats long so at least#TWO of them have weirdly long quests and the one first character doesnt seem so singled out lol#I hear this happens in real life professional games as well (like people complaining that X character doesnt have as much#content in an RPG as some other one does. etc.) so.. perhaps my fears about everyting not being exactlyliterally equal#are not even that worrisome or something that's a major factor. Still lol#It's not really that concerning to me anyways from a 'how will people react to it' perspective (very niche game. hardly anyone#will play it i'd assume. its not like thousands of people shall desscend upon me to criticize even if something was weird like that.#it'd be like. out of the 25 people who ever play it. maybe one of them is like 'yeah it was kinda weird that thosequests were so much#longer than the others. but idk' and that's the extent lol). My concern is more like.. Writing time..#the more I add. the longer it takes for me to finish. So if I keep ednlessly making things forever longer and longer. then it becomes The#Forever Project. which it kind of already is. considering I started it in 2018 and then forgot about it for the most part of 5 years and am#only resuming it now LOL.. I cannot bear to add MORE forever onto that which already is quite Forever-ish#If I wrote everything the ideal way I wish it were then I would either need a full team of writers. or I would finish the game in 2085#so.. alas.. cut cut snip snip..#ANYWAY lol
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oooh there about to be some mfing ND on ND crime at work if this fucker keeps trying me
#high anxiety noise sensitivity high sense of justice ND#meets vocal stims and 'doesnt do his job because he knows he can get away with it and push shit onto other ppl' ND#like he NEEDS a job coach and he needs help but there's like. INTENT in this shit he does. like he KNOWS and i feel like#all the NT's at work just ignore it and let him do it because they dont fucking realize it IS something he can help and change#he has focus issues and memory issues. all valid but not at all related how he actively ignores direction or gets sassy and how ill watch#him fuck shit up after having looked around to make sure no one sees him. shit he's been told SOOOO many times how to do/etc. AND HE KNOWS#i have told this bastard sO MANY TIMES to not abandon me in the evening to cover his TEN+ MINUTE BATHROOOOM BREAAAAAAAAKS!!!!!!!!#and he just walked out before i could even say No. I won't be Covering Your Position. Get a Manager.#and i was late getting home#wishing ill intent on him!!!! im tired of everyone having to fix his shit or deal with his gross behavior or get extra work#just because management doesnt know how to deal with a bad employee who HAPPENS to be ND and because corp wont get him a job coach#it's not FAAAAAAIR AND IM OVER IT!!!!#cw negativity#anyway the plus side of coming home pISSED is im awake and ready to write#and like MULTIPLE PEOPLE HAVE QUIT /because/ of this dude like idk if there's legal shit involved or like fucking what but like i have#no idea why he still has a job. he's been there longer than me btw. i think at some point he said like fucking 5 years#PERISH!!!!
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F1 DRIVERS SLEEPING WITH YOU
FOR THE FIRST TIME
( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )
warning : none, full of fluff
note : cutest thing I've ever written (I say that to every fics I write)
─ OSCAR PISTRI
Boy is half excited and half nervous. He's already dreading the moment, imagining all the possible scenarios in his head. What is he supposed to do? Stay on the side of your bed? Wrap his arms around you? Tangle his legs with yours? He's beyond stressed, and the very idea that you don't feel comfortable makes him panic even more. But the relief he felt when you just snuggled up to him. It was just... natural. His arms naturally wrapped around you as he gently stroked your hair, your head on his chest. He was soothed, and couldn't hold back a slight smile, feeling his body warm up, feeling his heart overflowing with love.
─ LANDO NORRIS
He plays it cool, confident, but inside he can't deny the fact that he's slightly panicking. Since the very day he met you, being head over heels for you, he has imagined this scenario hundreds of times. Obviously, he dreamed of finally sleeping with you, feeling your body fit perfectly with his and just being able to cuddle you all night. So when the day finally arrives, he tries to act as he imagined in his head. Both lying on the bed, he didn't wait a single second before pulling you against him, holding you tightly so that you couldn't escape. His cheeks are probably very pink, but it's adorable, just like the way you fell asleep. In each other's arms.
─ CHARLES LECLERC
He comes out of your bathroom after changing into his pajamas, and ends up finding you already ready for sleep, lying in your bed, which is now getting ready to be shared with your boyfriend. This is the first time you're going to sleep together. This information seems to paralyze Charles, who remains planted against the doorframe, not knowing if he should come join you now. You giggle weakly, seeing him completely lost and... a little embarrassed. When he sees you open your arms to encourage him to come join you, he is already nestling his head in the crook of your neck the next second, his arms around your waist. Oh and, no need to add that it was the best night of his life.
─ CARLOS SAINZ
You are already lying in bed, side by side. It must have been a good 5 minutes since you moved, not really knowing what to do. You would love to snuggle up against him, but maybe that's too much for a first night together? That's definitely not what Carlos thinks, who noticed that you were, well... not comfortable in your own bed. He slowly turns towards you, smiling softly at you, as if you were the most beautiful wonder in the world, before pressing your head against his chest, with a gentle gesture. Your body presses against him naturally, as he begins to caress your back lightly. He places a quick kiss on your hair, wishing you both a good night.
─ LEWIS HAMILTON
His heart melts just at the thought of finally being able to sleep with you. To be honest, you were looking forward to this moment, and he too could only think about that. He can't help but think about it every second, until your bodies are finally inches apart, under the warm duvet. Lewis can't wait any longer, sleep already overtaking him. Just your simple presence soothes him. Then, it is in a peaceful silence that your bodies finally touch each other, seeking each other's affection. You quietly close your eyes, relaxed, as he inhales your scent, already feeling himself slipping away into dreams. Best night ever, for sure.
─ GEORGE RUSSEL
The bed is all ready, the sheets are clean and the duvet freshly laundered. You burrow under the covers first, smiling softly at your boyfriend, who in turn slips under the duvet. You are neither too close nor too far, a reasonable distance but your faces close. Enough that you felt the heat coming from each other's bodies. You don't dare disturb the other person, or make the situation uncomfortable, so it's in these positions that you fall asleep. However, George's body ends up unconsciously searching for you in his sleep. His arms ended up wrapping you in a comforting embrace, his head finding a place in the crook of your neck. And a little smile appeared on his face during the night.
─ MAX VERSTAPPEN
He was the one who practically begged you to sleep together. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, and above all he wanted to be able to hold you in his arms as long as possible, even at night. So when you were finally free from work and could sleep with him for the first time, he almost jumped for joy. As soon as you set foot on your bed, he had already trapped you in his arms, peppering your face with kisses here and there. It's not even embarrassing, it's just pleasantly adorable and warm. As if you had always slept together since the start of your relationship. And now that your first night together has passed, there won't be another night where he sleeps alone. It's him and you, or he doesn't sleep.
─ DANIEL RICCIARDO
This man is literally always in a good mood, and never really seems stressed. Except when it comes to you, and especially your first night sleeping in the same bed. His heart is pounding, and he can't hide his nervous expression no matter how hard he tries. You can't deny the fact that you're also somewhat stressed. After all, this is one of your first intimate moments. He could tell you were nervous just like him. And that's why he immediately knew how to lighten the atmosphere, by joking about the situation. All your stress is gone as you laugh until you cry, and your boyfriend laughs out loud, savoring the sweet melody of your laughter. And so, tired from laughing too much, you fall asleep deeply, snuggled up warmly against each other.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#george russel x reader#max verstappen x reader#daniel riccardo x reader
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The moon and his sun (Part IV)
Aemond Targaryen x female reader
Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.
Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.
Word count: 11.5 K
Warnings: Angst begins, still lots of fluff, smut (of course), Aegon still being an ass
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5
~~
The court was in a frenzy.
The news of their betrothal spread through King’s Landing like wildfire. It was all anyone could talk about for days on end. Some felt vindicated, that the rumors they had been spreading for months had finally come to fruition, while others were skeptical, unsure of what such a sweet young girl saw in the surly one-eyed Prince.
The gossip was never ending, with many speculating the couple had been consorting inappropriately in private. While many knew of Ixtal’s customs, that they weren’t as strict about their Ladies maidenhood as they were in the rest of Westeros, it didn’t stop the looks of indignation she received from certain members of the court who turned their noses up at the mere possibility she had sullied herself before her marriage.
While Aemond hated the speculation and had to be held back more than once from storming over to a group of tittering Ladies and threatening to take their tongues for daring to speak ill of his betrothed, she found it laughable. She had to remind her betrothed they weren’t exactly wrong.
Their nights of pleasure together were only all the more exciting and mind blowing knowing they would have each other forever, that they no longer needed to fear what the future held.
They could finally relax, they would soon be each other’s in the eyes of the Gods and no one could take that away from them.
Their wedding was spared no expense. Lords and Ladies of great houses from across the realm traveled to the Capitol to witness the union of a Targaryen Prince and the daughter of the most prosperous house in the realm.
Aemond paid no mind to the fanfare. All he cared about was her.
He barely got to see her in the weeks leading up to their wedding, with her swept up with the Ladies of the court in dress fittings and as her family arrived at King’s Landing, she was rarely seen without her dear younger sister or mother at her side.
The King demanded a three day tourney be held to celebrate, with lavish hunts and feasts raving practically each night. Aemond had never seen his father so excited and he knew it had little to do with him and all to do with his dear friend, the Lord of Ixtal, that their families would officially be uniting.
He rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He just wanted to marry his love. He didn’t want all this attention and unnecessary flourish.
She would laugh softly everytime he slunk into her chambers at night, her bright eyes alight with mischief, a delighted smile on her face at the annoyance on his.
“Couldn’t stay away?”
“You know I couldn’t.” He crooned, inhaling her scent as he hugged her tightly from behind. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
“I am.” She answered with a blissful smile. “Are you?”
“I was ready to marry you years ago.”
She practically swooned, leaning her head back onto his shoulder, her gaze filled with nothing but devotion. She never would have pictured this for herself. She never could have imagined she would be able to marry her best friend, that she would find a love so pure and so beautiful for herself. She didn’t think that kind of love even existed.
“Everything seems so perfect.” She spoke softly, reveling in his embrace.
He hummed in agreement, wishing they could go find a Maester now to perform a ceremony and bind themselves together. He didn’t want to wait another minute. He just wanted to be her husband.
The next morning, the entire Keep was a flurry of activity. Maids scurried in and out of her chambers to prepare her, most desperate to catch a glimpse of the Island girl that would soon become a Targaryen princess.
She sat nervously at her vanity, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
Today was the day she would finally marry her best friend. It all seemed too good to be true, as though they had gotten away with some elaborate plan.
“You look beautiful, my love.” Her mother spoke, her eyes already brimming my tears.
“I’m not even in my dress yet.” She laughed as her mother waved her off, wiping under her eyes as she had been doing all morning.
To her left, Alicent stood, her demeanor much more reserved than that of her own mother and sister, who could barely contain their excitement. The Queen had yet to crack a smile since she had entered her chambers and had been silently picking out jewelry for her to wear, barely sparing a glance to her soon to be good daughter.
A nervous lump grew in her throat. She didn’t have the best relationship with Aemond’s mother, even as children, the woman seemed disinterested in speaking more than a few words to her. She at least thought the day she wedded her son she’d try to bridge the gap between them, but it seemed she still had little interest.
She didn’t seem all that thrilled her son was even getting married.
The maids around her all gestured for her to stand and move towards the floor length mirror, their excited giggles growing in volume as her dress was brought forward.
Her breath hitched. It was real. This was happening.
Her heart was racing as the maids helped her dress, her eyes beginning to sting with the pressure to cry the happiest of tears.
“I assume you know what is expected of you tonight.” Alicent’s voice broke through the throng of excited chattering, abruptly shattering the positive energy in the room.
The way Alicent looked at her, so intently, almost judgmentally, made her want to shrink. She swallowed and nodded.
She felt a hand at her shoulder, her mother’s presence steadily at her side.
“We have already discussed what her duty is tonight.” Her mother answered for her, her voice sounder stiffer than before.
Her mother had been in King’s Landing barely a day before she figured out what her daughter and her betrothed had been up to for months. Aemond had been horrified when his future good mother blurted out their long held secret.
She was sure he would be blushing for the rest of his life. Even after her mother laughed heartily and assured them she would never tell a soul, that she held no judgment for them, he still had trouble meeting her eye out of sheer embarrassment.
With one look at Alicent, the Lady of Ixtal knew she would do whatever she needed to do, say whatever she needed to say, to not let the frigid woman before her try to sink her claws into her daughter.
She would not ruin her daughter’s big day.
Alicent hummed, the sound neither that of satisfaction or disdain, and she remained quiet, though her critical eye never lessened. She had no compliments for the young girl who donned her beautiful, extravagant dress, she had no well wishes for the girl as her eyes brimmed with happy tears.
All Alicent could fixate on was how angry her father was at the turn of events. They had lost a monumental opportunity to gain allies due to the girl in front of her. She had bewitched her son, her uncivilized ways weakening Aemond’s sense of duty and proprietary. She never forgot how her son had stormed into her room, practically demanding a betrothal. It was so unlike him, not at all how he had been raised to act and she knew the Ixtal girl was to blame.
All she could do was plaster on a fake smile and hope everything her father had worked on for years wasn’t all for naught.
~~
She was a vision as she stepped out of the carriage, her pulse thrumming in her ears, her hands trembling in anticipation.
In a matter of minutes, she was going to be married to the love of her life.
“Are you ready?” Her father asked, a soft smile on his face as he stared at his first daughter with barely contained emotion. She nodded eagerly, latching onto his arm, taking in a final deep breath before they stepped inside.
The crowd of guests were in awe as she passed, though she could not spare a glance to any of the onlookers that seemed to swoon at the sight of her. Her gaze was locked onto the man at the front of the room, meeting his eye effortlessly.
Aemond had been watching the door and nothing else for the past few minutes, anxiously awaiting her arrival. The second she stepped inside, his breath had been stolen from him.
He felt nervous flutters within him, as if he was once again that little boy who was in love with his best friend before he even knew what it meant to love someone.
His vision blurred slightly as tears gathered in his eye at the sight of her, so beautiful, so perfect, his wife.
They couldn’t take their eyes off each other as her father removed the cloak from her shoulders. Aemond felt his breath hitch at the sight of her in her dress, the shape of her body, the delicate silk outlining every curve he had spent many nights memorizing and worshiping.
As he stood before her, placing the heavy Targaryen cloak over her shoulders, he breathed in her familiar scent, calming every one of his nerves.
He took her hand, guiding her up the steps of the dais. No one said a word as he kept his hand in hers, the crowd was absolutely enraptured by the sight of them, the Ladies dramatically sharing looks of longing at the couple as neither one of them spared a glance to the Septon that began the service.
They only had eyes for each other.
No one could deny the love they shared. As they spoke the words that bound them together, their smiles dazzling, no one could deny this was a marriage of pure love.
“I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”
The words left him with ease. He used to dread this moment as a child, hating the idea of being bound to a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care for for the rest of his life, purely out of duty.
Now, he couldn’t imagine saying the words to any other person but the woman in front of him. The thought of spending the rest of his days with her, his love, brought him nothing but relief and endless happiness, a feeling he never pictured for himself.
Since he lost his eye, since a piece of him had literally been taken from him, he had always felt slighted, but now, as the Septon announced their union, as he kissed her for the first time as his wife, he felt whole again.
He was no longer that overlooked second son, he was no longer that scarred and feared man who longed for revenge.
He was a husband, he was her protector, her friend, her love. He felt he finally had a meaningful purpose, one that meant so much more than the duty his family expected from him.
The crowd cheered voraciously. It wasn’t often they got to witness a union so blessed by affection.
Aemond kept his awed gaze on her as they made their way down the aisle, his hand clasped tightly in hers, paying no mind to anyone else around him.
They could scarcely keep their hands from each other.
During the feast, Aemond kept his hand on her thigh, his touch thankfully hidden by the long train covering the table. As both of their fathers gave speeches, spouting lovely rhetorics of family and peace, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to a word of it.
His attention was focused solely on the woman beside him. His wife.
He felt himself smiling just at the thought of it, that he could finally say the word.
When the music started and they made their way to the floor to share their first dance, a moment Aemond had been dreading for weeks, he found he couldn’t care less that everyone’s eyes were on him.
He realized nothing else mattered. Everything he thought would make him feel insecure wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He held her closely, his heart racing as if they were dancing for the first time, as if he was touching her for the first time.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.” She spoke with a laugh.
“I have a good reason to smile.” He responded with a smirk as he twirled her.
The guests couldn’t take their eyes off the couple as they danced. Most felt they were intruding on an intimate moment with how intently they gazed at each other, their love radiating from each of them effortlessly.
They noticed how the couple sparsely ceased their touch from each other. The Lords present couldn’t help but feel slighted there would be no bedding ceremony. They were sure it would be a spectacle with how the Prince eyed his new wife with a hunger most men couldn’t conceive for their own wives.
Aemond’s pout as his new wife accepted Helaena’s offer to dance, leaving him to sit by himself, would be fodder for most of the gossip the next morning.
He watched her with a small smile, looking more at ease than the court had ever seen him, content at the mere sight of her delight as she twirled around with Helaena, their shared laughter ringing out louder than the music playing.
He took a small sip from his wine, content to not drink much more, knowing he’d rather have a clear head for what the rest of the night held. He would finally take her as his wife, he would lay with her, spill his seed inside her without consequence.
After tonight, her stomach could swell with his child and no one could say a thing.
The thought made him desperate to drag her to their new shared chambers. He would be eager to see the end of the feast and lay with her for the rest of the night, but with how happy she was, he wouldn’t do a thing to take her away from it.
As she twirled with Helaena, her head back, eyes closed, a picture of pure happiness, she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled slightly, her eyes widening, but sturdy hands on her waist stopped her from falling to the floor.
“Mind if I cut in?”
She stiffened at the voice in her ear, turning to see Aegon’s smarmy smile. She wanted nothing more than to wrench his hands off her, but she couldn’t make a scene at her own wedding. If she displayed any ounce of discomfort by his hands, she was sure Aemond would forever be tainted as the man who killed his own brother on his wedding night.
“Aegon…” Helaena called out wearily, not wanting her dear friend to be subjected to her brother’s cruel games, though she didn’t have power in her own corner to derail him.
“It’s alright Helaena.” She assured her, giving her a weak smile to the Princess who eyed her worriedly for a moment before retreating back to the head table.
She cleared her throat and stood stiffly, holding back a grimace as Aegon’s hand slipped around her waist, his other taking hers, his grip tight and domineering, as if he wanted to prove to her how much stronger he was than her.
“You were lucky my grandsire allowed this to happen so quickly.” He spoke blatantly as they began to dance. “I was hoping to expose your big secret to the court.”
She felt her insides twist. Knowing Aegon was aware of her and Aemond’s secret, of their sneaking around, had her wanting to retreat where no one would find her. Even now they were married, Aegon still had the power to destroy her reputation.
She just hoped he ruined his own before he had the chance to tear her down.
“You think they would listen to the words of a drunken idiot?”
His smile turned wicked, his disdain for her clear, though there was no denying the lust in his gaze as he looked at her. He didn’t have to like her to fuck her.
“More than they would listen to a whore who spreads her legs for anyone.”
“You mean my husband?” She retaliated, her patience for him wearing thin.
Aegon chuckled, though his bitterness was clear. He leaned in close, his nose almost brushing against hers. She jerked back, sending him a vicious scowl, all she could allow herself under the prying eyes that surrounded her.
“You could have been mine.” He crooned, the wine on his breath making her feel nauseous. “Gods only know why you decided to settle for my twat of a brother. As if he could please you better than I could, as if he could fuck you the way I could. I bet you were the first woman he ever bedded.”
His words made her feel sick to her stomach as she staunchly looked past his shoulder, refusing to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to know how much he could get under her skin. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“I would rather let the entire brothel of whores you sully yourself with flay every layer of my skin off slowly until I beg for death than ever crawl into bed with you.”
Aegon only smirked joyously.
“The mouth on you.” He admired with a shake of his head. “Such a shame it’s wasted on my brother.”
“Aegon.”
The stern voice of his brother made his eyes widen for a fraction of a second and he quickly schooled his expression, quickly removing his hands from his new good sister, plastering on a smirk so his brother wouldn’t see how successfully he could intimidate him.
She turned, meeting the questioning gaze of her husband. She nodded subtly, silently assuring him she was ok.
He’d been chatting with her brother but the moment he spotted her in Aegon’s arms, he had abruptly given his well wishes to his new family and was quickly making his way to rescue her from his lecherous brother’s grip.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded eagerly, linking her arm through his, more than eager to say goodbye to the feast and make her way to bed with her new husband.
“What, no bedding ceremony?” Aegon called out, forcing Aemond to send him a wicked glare.
“Not if you wish to live, brother.” He spat and turned on his heel, desperate to get his wife far away from his depravity.
He was more than thankful his good father had appealed to his father about doing away with the bedding ceremony. The Lord of Ixtal cared about his daughter too much to put her through that embarrassment.
“Did he do anything?” He asked under his breath as they walked away, ignoring the cheers of congratulations from the guests he cared little for.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Aemond’s jaw clenched in anger, his instincts telling him to turn back and threaten his brother within an inch of his life for daring to speak to his wife in ways that were anything but cordial.
The moment they stepped out of the grand hall, allowing them a brief moment of privacy in the empty hallway, she pulled her arm from his and took his hands in her own, turning to face him, a soft smile on her face.
“Don’t let him ruin our night. This isn’t about him or anyone else. It’s about us.”
He let out a long breath and nodded, though it wasn’t an easy feat to let go of the anger that burned hotly at the mere mention of his debauched brother’s attention on his love.
“Besides, I’m quite eager to get to bed and if my husband chooses to delay any longer, I might begin to rethink this union.” She teased, smiling victoriously as his eye darkened with desire.
Her laughter echoed in the halls as Aemond practically dragged her to their chambers, his quick pace signaling he was equally as eager as she was to lose themselves in bliss.
~~
She lay draped across his bare chest, the sheets pooled at their hips. She hummed in contentment, her limbs aching, her eyes heavy with exhaustion as Aemond gently ran his fingers up and down the length of her arm.
Any other night, his touch would lull her into much needed sleep, but the excitement that continued to course through her veins stubbornly kept her eyes open.
She turned her head, looking up at her husband.
Gods, she would never get over saying that.
He looked down, their shared smiles growing as their gazes met.
Her hand that was placed on his strong chest cheekily began to move lower, making him laugh.
“You can’t possibly be needing more.” He spoke tiredly. They had already gone multiple rounds, he had already pulled a countless number of orgasms from her.
“I thought I married a dragon.” She teased. “Are you saying you no longer have the stamina to please your wife?”
Aemond’s gaze darkened, his exhaustion worn out by his desire she could so effortlessly spark.
“You dare to doubt me, wife?” He crooned, knowing how deeply the word affected her, watching with satisfaction as she practically preened against him, a wickedly delightful thrill coursing through her at the mention of their newly married status.
She laughed and pushed at his chest, forcing him to lay back onto the pillows below him. He eagerly expected her to crawl atop him and ride him in the deliriously, mind bending way she could, but he was left in a pleasured surprise as she began to press heated kisses across his abdomen, moving lower torturously slowly.
He let out a heavy breath, his body thrumming with anticipation. He hissed as she took him in her mouth, his head falling back, already feeling weak under her touch, sensitive from his previous leg-shaking peaks.
Her wicked tongue knew exactly what to do to render him a useless fool who couldn’t remember his own name. His hand tangled in her hair that was already a mess from their previous passionate rounds.
His breath left him in heavy pants as she worked him with her mouth at a quick pace. He knew her well, he knew the determined glint in her eye signaled trouble for him. She went further and further and took him deep in her mouth until the tip of him hit the back of her throat.
He whined, writhing against the bed, his hand that wasn’t pulling at her hair pathetically fisting the sheets below him in an effort to keep himself tethered to some semblance of control that she was steadily shattering.
“You are wicked.” He moaned, the delight in his voice causing her lips to curl around him in the guise of a victorious smile.
His lips were parted with a litany of moans and whines as he watched her, eagerly taking in the sight of her, his cock in her mouth, her eyes alight with desire, greedily taking his pleasure. She sped up the pace of her mouth, delighted at the sound of his loud groan echoing throughout the room.
His toes began to curl, his weak body, already spent from hours of ecstasy, leaving him powerless under her.
He called out her name frantically, sounding more debauched than he ever would have imagined he could have.
“Oh fuck, just like that, darling, don’t stop.”
She doubled her efforts, eager to see him fall apart. She loved to hear his noises of pleasure, to see him so unrestrained as he let himself fall to the haze of bliss. His back arched, both of his hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair, as if to ensure she wouldn’t leave him wanting, that she stayed worshiping him as she was, as only she could.
“Love,” He warned, feeling his end nearing, feeling the familiar fire beginning to stir within him, one that came before a powerful release. With only a few more flicks of her tongue, he felt himself shatter.
He cried out, a loud, desperate sound most wouldn’t believe to have come from the surly Prince, as he came. His vision was stolen from him as he had squeezed his eye shut in the moment of climax, though he wouldn’t have denied that she had just extricated his soul from his body, leaving him to lose what was left of his sight. He didn’t doubt she had the ability.
His chest heaved, his jaw slack, small whines leaving him as she was slow to part from him, her mouth lazily working his spent cock that twitched in overstimulation at her touch.
He reached for her blindly, his limbs weak as though he had just fought a grueling battle. She grabbed his hand, laughing softly at the sight of him thoroughly exhausted.
She allowed him to pull her over him, his hands desperate to touch her, to feel her close to him, to prolong the pleasure running through him.
He kissed her hand, his lips moving up the length of her arm until he reached her neck, smiling at the sound of the contented noise that left her lips as he found the spot that always made her giggle with ticklish delight.
“One of these days you are going to stop my heart.” He told her, still working to catch breath.
“I would never do such a thing.”
He smiled and kissed her firmly, his mind a haze of delirium. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming, for this seemed too perfect to be his life. He kissed her again, as if to confirm that this was real, that the woman that just brought him pleasure like no other was truly before him, that he was lucky enough to now call her his wife.
“Give me five minutes and I will return the favor.”
~~
Their marriage was nothing short of blissful. Now there was no longer a need to hide, the public was shocked by how affectionate the dragon Prince acted towards his wife. One was seldom seen without the other.
Maids constantly gossiped about the salacious noises heard from their shared chambers practically all hours of the day. With the noises the new Princess made nightly they couldn’t help but begin to lust over the elusive Prince, or at least wish he could give some tips to their own lovers. They almost fought over who got to service the Prince and his new wife to catch a glimpse of the lovesick expression on the feared one-eyed dragon’s face.
It had to be seen to be believed.
They knew it wouldn’t be long until the announcement of a new Targaryen babe was made.
Aemond hated the attention. He wished he could take his wife across the sea and indulge in their newly wedded bliss in private.
He had just sneered at yet another passing Lady who practically fawned at the sight of the two of them, when she laughed, tucking her arm tighter in his.
They had simply been walking in the gardens together and still couldn’t escape the gossiping Ladies of the court who could talk of nothing else but their marriage and ponder about the feared one-eyed Prince’s new found prowess among the Ladies.
“Do they have nothing better to do?” Aemond muttered in annoyance.
“Our novelty will wear off soon.” She assured him. “They are just not quite used to seeing you so… soft.”
“I am not soft.”
She laughed, the sound causing him to look over at his wife incredulously. The disbelieving look on his face only had her suppressing more laughter,
“Tell me, dear husband, if I told you my legs were hurting and I couldn’t possibly make it to that bench over there, would you not carry me?”
Aemond regarded her for a moment, an almost imperceptible pout growing on his lips as he contemplated the situation. He knew there was no way he wouldn’t indulge her in anything she asked for.
“That does not make me soft.” He answered defensively, though he knew he was a lost cause.
She giggled at the obvious answer as they continued to walk. Aemond looked over at her, eyeing her carefully for a few moments, his brows furrowing.
“Your legs are not hurting are they?”
Her laughter rang out in the gardens as she leaned in closer to his side. Aemond felt his own smile tugging at his lips and he placed a kiss to the top of her head.
He knew he would endure all of the petty gossip that came his way. He would endure a lot worse just to hear that laugh again.
He almost couldn’t believe the bliss he was living in. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love someone. Now that they no longer had to hide their true feelings for each other, now that they were married and could freely show affection without any repercussions, he found himself living in a dreamlike state.
It felt too good to be true.
Every day was spent showing the rest of the court just how much she meant to him, how he was hers and she was his and no one else mattered, while late nights were spent tangled in bed, their limbs weak with pleasure, a time just for them and no one else.
As she got up to pour them another cup of wine they had been drinking before he had dragged her to their bed, she looked over her shoulder at her husband who was looking up at the ceiling tiredly, a content smile on his face.
“Have I finally worn you out?” She teased as she handed him his cup.
He chuckled softly and took the cup, drinking down much needed swallows of the sweet wine. She crawled back into bed beside him, settling herself in his open arms once again. She pressed teasing kisses across his chest, feeling the hum of soft moans that escaped him.
He cupped her face and kissed her firmly, the gesture lacking much heat as they were both thoroughly spent from the haze of pleasure they’d been tangled in for hours.
He pulled away, letting his forehead rest against hers as he took her in, simply admiring his wife with an awe that was certainly not unfamiliar to either of them.
She noticed a flicker of something she didn’t recognize flash across his face, his eye softening almost imperceptibly.
“What’s on your mind, Love?” She asked, nuzzling in closer to him as she sensed his sudden anxious energy.
He stayed quiet for a moment longer, carefully contemplating his next words and if he should divulge the sudden thought in his head to her.
“What if…” He started softly, his teeth worrying his lip as he feared her reaction. “What if you didn’t drink any moon tea tomorrow?”
Her expression smoothed out in surprise at his request. She couldn’t deny that it was something she had thought of since their wedding, but she had never spoken of her fantasies of silver haired children with her husband. She knew he had complicated feelings for his own family, especially his father, and she never wanted to bring it up in fear of pushing him to something he feared.
“Is that something you want?”
“I want everything with you.” He told her sincerely.
The beaming smile that grew on her lips soothed every ounce of anxiety he had and he breathed out deeply, leaning forward to kiss her once more.
“You’re going to be a wonderful father.”
Her whispered words made his insides twist and flutter in ways that left him holding back the flood of emotions he hadn’t expected, her words soothing the deep rooted anxiety he felt at the prospect of starting a family, no matter how badly he wanted it. He had no way to tell her how grateful he was for her, there were no words conceivable to tell her the depth of his love for her.
So he settled for kissing her, silently thanking the Gods above for bringing him to the woman in his arms.
~~
Aemond stepped into their shared chambers the same time he always did, his perfect hair slightly disheveled from his time spent training. He stopped in his tracks, the warmth in his expression gone in an instant as he eyed the Maester sitting before her with growing apprehension.
“What’s wrong?”
She laughed at his blatant worry as he approached her quickly, reaching for her hand.
“Everything’s fine, Darling.”
“What happened?” He turned to ask the Maester, all care gone from his voice, leaving nothing but strict power as he demanded an answer.
“The Princess wasn’t feeling well this morn-”
“Are you alright? Why didn’t you tell me?” He interrupted, turning his attention back to her, his concerned tone back in full force, all traces of the demanding Prince gone as he kneeled before her, his expression wracked with worry.
She smiled again in amusement and looked to the Maester.
“Would you mind giving us a moment?”
The old man nodded respectfully, giving her a warm smile and hastily leaving the room, most likely relieved to gain some distance from the dragon Prince with the feared temper.
She intertwined her fingers with Aemond’s, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to bring him the life changing news.
“I have been feeling a little off the last few days and I called the Maester to confirm my suspicion.” She explained vaguely, her mischievous smirk remaining as she watched Aemond’s brow furrow deeper in concern.
“And?”
Deciding to finally let her husband off the hook and spare him his heart that was no doubt racing in anticipation, his dramatic mind probably conjuring horrible conclusions, she guided his hand forward, letting his palm rest flatly on her stomach.
She watched him carefully, noting the exact moment he realized what she was telling him. His lips parted and his gaze moved from his hand to her face abruptly, his eye shrouded in disbelief, looking at her pleadingly, as if needing confirmation that this was real.
She let out a laugh and nodded, tears brimming in her eyes at the pure love she saw in Aemond’s. He let out a breathless laugh, the sound of delight one she had never remembered ever hearing from him before. He grabbed her hands, swiftly bringing her to her feet and barely a second later, he was hugging her tightly, his hands gripping onto her desperately.
Her delighted laughter filled the room as he twirled her around, the moment filled with nothing but elation.
“Thank you.” He whispered from where his head rested in the crook of her neck.
She smiled, her own emotions rising at the sound of him so touched, so loved.
He pulled out of the embrace, his gaze immediately falling to her stomach that had yet to show any evidence of the life that grew there. He pictured it swelling, the bump that would grow with their child, the life they had created together and he was sure his heart was moment away from bursting out of sheer love.
“I can’t believe it.” He breathed out in awe. It had only been about a month since they had made the decision to forgo moontea, he had no idea it would happen for them this quickly.
“With how often you take me to bed, surely this isn’t a surprise.”
He looked almost proud at her jest and she shook her head, pulling him in for another embrace that he gladly returned, his arms holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world and if anyone were to ask, Aemond would certainly agree.
He kissed the top of her head and pulled back, taking her face in his hands as he looked down at her reverently.
“You have given me more than I ever could have imagined I would have.” He told her honestly. “You’ve made me the happiest man to ever live.”
He kissed her with all the love he could, hoping it would be enough to convey every ounce of adoration he held for her.
However, their peace didn’t last long.
Rhaenyra and her sons would soon be arriving at King’s Landing to counter Vaemond Velaryon’s petition for the Driftmark throne.
The moment Aemond heard the news, he became reserved, building that familiar brooding wall around him, portraying that of the feared one-eyed prince the court loved to gossip about.
The night before they were due to arrive, he had resided in their chambers, wishing to avoid the prying eyes of the court and their whispers about his bastard nephews and the likelihood of there being another duel between them that would result in bloodshed.
He heard the door of their shared chambers open and close, but his gaze remained on the flickering flames in the hearth in front of him.
“There you are.” Her sweet voice called out, his wife taking her place at his side. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”
“I’ve been here.” He responded softly, his voice lacking its usual warmth that was always present with her.
She watched him carefully, knowing exactly what was eating away at him, but hesitant to mention it, unsure of how he would react. The mere mention of his nephews was enough to incite his rage.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” She asked softly.
“No.”
His voice was curt, betraying just how tormented he felt. A flare of pain lashed his scar, the sapphire in place of his eye seemingly burning, as if the thought of that Strong bastard’s imminent arrival alone could cut him like the dagger he wielded that night.
A tense silence lingered between them, one they both hated.
With a pained hiss, he tore his eye path off, tossing it to the side carelessly, his sharp features contorted in pain. He leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as the sapphire in his eye bloomed with pain.
It wasn’t often the wound still caused him aggravation, but in the moments it did, he always felt like he was that young, helpless boy again. His hands shook slightly as the pain flared so deeply it was all he could do to breathe through it.
Within seconds he felt gentle hands on his, carefully prying them from his face. He looked up to his wife sitting before him, the concern on her face stirring his emotions he tried desperately to hold back.
He noticed the vial of ointment in her hands, the one the Maesters gave to him to use whenever his wound became unbearable. He was tense as she cradled his cheek, her thumb caressing the edge of his scar, her eyes taking in the angry looking wound. She had seen him do this for himself a few times but he had never let her do it before.
She looked at him thoughtfully, posing a silent question to which he nodded slightly, still hesitant to let her touch what was his greatest shame, but the pain was becoming unbearable, he was left out of options.
She dipped her finger into the ointment and carefully applied it to his eye, her own heart racing as she felt her husband was baring a piece of himself he had been adamant on hiding for so long.
As her fingers brushed as gently as possible across his wounded eye, the cooling ointment bringing him relief immediately, he finally started to let himself relax, releasing a long breath.
She reached out with her other hand, laying it over his own that was still clenched into a fist, beginning to trace meaningless shapes over his knuckles. Her touch soothed something in him he didn’t even know could be soothed, the simple gesture enough for him to feel comforted in a way only she could give him. He sighed loudly as he sank into his seat, the rigidity leaving him limb by limb.
Smiling softly at the sight of him so much calmer than before, she moved to sit next to him once she was finished. Aemond was quick to close the distance between them, moving in closer to her side, taking her hand in his, eager for her touch.
“Thank you.” He whispered, the look of reverence he sent her stirring her own emotions and she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. She would never understand what he went through as a child, she would never understand what he felt for his nephews, but she was adamant she would be there for him in the moments he struggled.
“You never need to thank me for this.” She assured him.
Another heavy breath escaped him, as if his ire was leaving him with each exhale. His resentment was no match for the love his wife gave him. It would succumb to her each and every time.
His hand roamed gently over her body, eventually finding its place on her stomach, where it stayed, pulling a small laugh from her.
“You do realize there’s no bump yet.”
Aemond just shrugged, the look of contentment on his face a far cry from the derision that had steadily remained all day.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s still in there.”
“He?”
He seemed bashful as he looked up at his wife, a slight blush on his cheeks, as if embarrassed to admit the many nights he spent thinking about their child, imagining their son as the perfect mix of them both, of how much he already loved their child.
“It’s just a feeling.”
She began to picture it, Aemond cradling their son, his eyes the same vibrant blue of his father’s, his smile wide, his cheeks chubby, every bit of him absolutely perfect.
Her own smile grew, her vision growing blurry as tears gathered in her eyes at the thought, her hormones that were now on a hair trigger since her pregnancy, coming to a head.
“Hey,” Aemond called out in concern, reaching up to caress her cheek and she shook her head, letting out a small laugh.
“They’re happy tears.”
He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. It was easy to forget the turmoil he felt, that he was soon to face the object of his anger, when he was next to his wife, their child growing within her.
That night, he was ravenous. He had taken her with a fervor he hadn’t felt in weeks. He had been insatiable when he knew of her pregnancy, but he seemed to treat her like glass, as if she were now delicate because of the precious life that grew within her.
His touches had always been gentle, but urgent, hungry yet loving.
Tonight, he was starved. He fucked her as if they were newlyweds again, every touch portraying just how desperate he felt for her.
“Aemond!” She cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard as he brought her to yet another blissful orgasm.
He growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck, the enticing nip at her neck making her moan. His steady pace never faltered, his powerful hips crashing against hers as he chased his own end.
Her cries turned to laughs, delirious with pleasure.
“I love you.” She breathed out and screamed as his pace became quicker, his thrusts becoming harsher, more frantic as he quickly approached his high.
“Say it again.” He growled, now hovering over her as he gazed down at the beauty beneath him, his eye and the striking sapphire a sight that left her shivering under his tight grip.
“I love you.” She repeated, hoping he believed every word, hoping he knew just how much she cherished him, how much he meant to her. “You are the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I’ll ever love for the rest of my life.”
His jaw clenched, his eye squeezing shut as the sight of her below him, writhing in pleasure, was just too much to handle. He was powerless against her.
His thrusts became relentless, the bed shaking beneath them with every one of his brutal strokes.
He breathed harshly, feeling as though flames were alight in his veins.
“Again.” He commanded roughly.
She shivered at the commanding edge of his voice, her toes curling as she felt sparks ignite within her.
“I love you, more than anything.”
Her breathless words were his undoing. He shouted a curse and groaned loudly, his arms feeling weak as he practically fell over her, never stopping his movements, his cock thrusting into her almost violently as he came, his body shaking against hers.
She gasped at the feeling of him spilling inside her, her arms wrapping tighter around him, her head thrown back as she cried out, his name falling from her lips in a chant, as if he were a deity she prayed to for salvation.
“I love you.” She whispered breathlessly and began to laugh tiredly as he planted kisses over the expanse of her neck, making his way upwards until he met her lips, kissing her soundly, as if she were the very air he breathed.
“I love you.” He panted in a blissful daze.
By the next morning, every good feeling Aemond had coveted the night before had dissipated like smoke in the wind.
He woke early and spared his sleeping wife a kiss to the forehead before heading to the training yard where he spent the rest of the morning, endlessly sparring with Ser Criston and any other worthy opponent available when the knight needed a break from his endless plights.
Those that dared to step up were left bloody and bruised in a matter of minutes.
Aemond was wound tightly, his entire being ready to snap as he laid his eye on his nephews for the first time in years. The fury that had been buried deeply within him for years bubbled to the surface with one look at the brown haired bastards.
The sapphire in place of his eye burned as his glare remained steady on them.
He preened inwardly as they cowered under his eye. To know they couldn’t meet his gaze brought him more satisfaction than he had expected. He grabbed his sword and gestured to Ser Criston to get into position.
He fought with determination as if he were in actual battle, as if his life was truly threatened and every movement dictated his survival. With every powerful strike of his sword against Criston’s shield, he felt vindicated, as though the years of shame that had come from the bullying he endured from his own brother and nephews stripped off layer by layer with each powerful swing of his weapon.
His eye drifted to his nephews, a sickly satisfied smirk growing at the sight of their intimidation.
They held no power over him now. He had made sure of it.
“Husband.”
Her voice cut through the haze of victory he had been lavishing in. He turned on his heel, confusion overtaking him as he saw his wife standing in the training yard. He dropped his sword and rushed over to her side.
“What are you doing down here? Is everything alright?”
She didn’t often make her way down into the training yards and with her current state, he couldn’t help but fret over her every minute of the day he was with her.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t killing yourself before the petition.”
He sighed heavily. He didn’t know if he loved or hated how easily his wife could read him. She took his hand and he let her guide him out of the yard.
“You’ve been here for hours, I think you’ve earned yourself a break.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but she stopped him with a knowing look.
“Based on the looks on your nephews face’s I think you’ve proven everything you needed to prove.”
The smirk that grew on his lips should have worried her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel any concern for the ire he felt for his nephews. It was more than justified, she just hoped it would be enough, that their visit to the Keep wouldn’t result in any more bloodshed.
Aemond looked back into the training yard, as if hesitant to leave the glory he’d managed to carve out for himself, for the retribution he felt he had finally earned, no matter how slight it was, but her hand in his forced him back to her in an instant.
“Don’t let them get to you. They hold no power over you.” She told him softly and he let out a long breath, allowing the hatred that had been clouding him all day roll over him like dark thunder clouds making way for the shining sun to warm up the earth after a vicious storm.
His hand remained steadily in hers, as if needing her like a lifeline in tumultuous waves. She was the only thing that kept him tethered to himself, that kept him from spiraling into his anger.
She could see how tense he was and if it were any other day, if they didn’t have royal duties to attend to, she would’ve been content to keep him in their chambers and let him use her to both of their delights until he was spent, too exhausted to feel any anger at all.
She didn’t like to see him in this state. It was so unlike the sweet boy that had been by her side for years. She didn’t like what her nephews had created in him the night he claimed Vhagar.
~~
The petition unfolded as she expected. While King Viserys’ presence had been a surprise, Vaemond’s demise certainly wasn’t, especially after the accusations he had spouted to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons.
Aemond had tugged on her arm, instinctively pulling her behind him as Daemon brought his sword down upon the man.
He had shielded her from the violent display, something she had been grateful for. With the pregnancy hormones swirling within her, she most often felt nauseous around anything that wasn’t plain bread. The sight of Vaemond’s severed head would’ve been enough to put her off eating for the rest of her life.
As the court reacted in a frenzy to the brutal display, Aemond had placed his hand on her stomach, his eye looking her over carefully, ready to rush her out of the room at the slightest hint of nausea.
She gripped his hand and nodded to his silent question, assuring him she was ok, that she wasn’t about to spill her guts in front of everyone, though the darkened look in his eye remained. Who it was targeted at, she wasn’t quite sure.
Neither one of them had been looking forward to the family dinner Viserys was adamant on hosting. It was as if he was completely oblivious to the tension in the family as he forced them in proximity to each other.
Aemond had barely spoken a word as they readied themselves for dinner. He was tense, his face drawn tightly, as if he expected the worst to unfold, as if he were facing enemies on a battlefield and not a simple dinner with his family.
“We don’t have to attend.” She told him, wishing she could protect him from the torment he felt in the face of his nephews.
He didn’t spare a look to her, every inch of him was shrouded in anger, barely contained fury that he couldn’t shake. He didn’t seem like the man she married at that moment.
“Why wouldn’t I attend?” He asked, as if his torment wasn’t visible, as if she wasn’t aware of the burning anger he couldn’t shake, the vitriol he experienced as a child coming back to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of the slights that he had been faced with.
“Aemond,” She started softly. “No one expects you to forgive them.”
He scoffed, shaking his head, his expression filled with bitter irritation.
“No one expects me to hold any anger at all.”
She frowned deeply and approached him slowly, eyeing him carefully. She had never felt so out of depth when it came to her husband but she would be damned if she left him to suffer alone.
“We don’t have to go.”
He clenched his jaw, his eye holding a faraway look, signaling he was deep in thought.
She reached out, cupping his face in his hands, startling him out of his reverie that was filled with nothing but hatred.
“You just tell me and we’ll leave. I’ll make an excuse and we can go without any question.”
Her words, her ability to show him she was staunchly in his corner, a feeling no one else had ever assured him of, disarmed him completely. There was one thing his nephews would never take from him, the love he felt from his wife stood the test of time, standing strongly against any other force that dared to weaken him. His eye softened, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm, his fingers gently caressing her skin.
“What have I done to deserve you?” He whispered, his voice cloaked with reverence, as if surprised by the love she held for him.
She frowned, hating when he spoke as if he didn’t deserve the love she showed him, as if it was some kind of gift he wasn’t worthy of coveting.
“You read to me my second day here.” She answered simply, reminding him of the beginning of it all, when they were nothing more than two wonderstruck children.
He exhaled deeply, desperately wanting to hold onto that feeling that always surrounded him when he thought of their childhood together, like warmth embracing him soundly.
It was a feeling he kept close to him as they walked to the dining hall, though he knew it was futile. The feeling would be gone, shielded in the depths of him in the face of his family.
As they stepped into the hall, Aemond left her side to grab her a drink from the servers, allowing her to step towards Rhaena and Baela, greeting them politely. Rhaena was quick to give her a smile, while Baela only had distrustful eyes to throw in her direction.
Her name was called and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her with a warm smile.
She smiled and embraced the Princess slightly awkwardly. She had fond memories of the woman growing up, especially in times when she was desperately missing her own mother, but it had been years since she had seen her and knowing her actions on the night Aemond’s eye had been taken had irrevocably changed her view of the woman since.
“It’s good to see you again, Dear.” Rhaenyra smiled warmly at her. “Where is your father, I was hoping to say hello.”
“He’s at Ixtal. He was missing my mother and decided to take a short visit.”
“You didn’t join him?”
She felt her cheeks heat at the question and she couldn’t help but smile.
“I would, but I wasn’t exactly in a good state to travel.” She explained and placed her hand on her stomach exaggeratedly.
Rhaenyra’s eyes widened and she beamed a smile, laughing happily.
“That is wonderful news.” The Princess congratulated. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
A hand on the small of her back made her look up to see her husband now at her side, his steely eye locked onto his half-sister whose smile faltered at his sudden presence. She cleared her throat, her demeanor now tense as she nodded politely in greeting.
Rhaenyra left their side quickly, leaving her to wonder just how deeply one family could fracture. She couldn’t imagine ever greeting her brothers in that manner. She couldn’t imagine hating the ones she shared blood with.
Letting out a long breath, knowing she was in for an eventful night, she turned to Aemond, placing her hand on his arm that was stiff, as if he wouldn't allow himself to relax or even take a breath in their presence.
They all took their seats, the tension in the room strangling as King Viserys was carried in.
She held back a grimace at the sight of the decrepit King. He was a far cry from the man she had met all those years ago, far from the man who was a dear friend to her father.
The awkward aura in the room remained steadfast, with most avoiding eye contact with each other. Even Viserys’ heartened speech about family and the uniting of the house of the dragon did little to mend the obvious rift in the family.
Until Rhaenyra stood. She was shocked to hear her speak such lovely words about the Queen and for the Queen to return the sentiment.
Their apparent truce for the time being broke the tension, though her husband at her side remained tense, his lone eye unflinchingly cold as he regarded his distant family.
Her eyes kept circling back to him, as if waiting for the moment he would strike. She wondered when the wood of the chair under his white-knuckled grip would splinter. She wondered when the night would take an irredeemable turn.
She didn’t even get to enjoy Helaena’s thinly veiled jab towards Aegon in her toast, she was too worried about her husband to pay attention to the others around her.
When the music began, signaling the end of the toasts, she leaned back in her seat, giving her husband a small encouraging smile, anticipating that they had made it through the worst the night had to offer.
Aemond remained stiff as stone, his posture straight and rigid. She noticed his eye darken further, his gaze locked past her and she turned, her brows furrowing slightly as Jacaerys stepped towards her, a hopeful smile on his face.
“Would you care to dance, Princess?” He asked, offering her his hand.
She stared at his hand for a long second, contemplating her choices. With the entirety of the table watching the exchange, she knew she had little choice but to accept his offer.
She spared a brief glance to her husband beside her and the fury that blazed in his lone eye would have melted the wall in the great north. With a heavy breath, she gingerly took Jace’s hand and stood from her seat, allowing him to guide her away from the table.
Her husband’s gaze practically burned at her back.
Aemond watched with barely contained rage as the bastard danced with his wife. His teeth grinded together so harshly it was a wonder they didn’t crack. He briefly contemplated what the repercussions would be if he murdered the Strong bastard where he stood.
The fire within him was simmering, ready to unleash as he watched another man touch his wife. The smile on the bastard’s face left Aemond wondering whether he should slit his throat, dismember him, or let Vhagar turn him to ash.
None of the choices seemed punishment enough.
As Jace twirled her, her eyes briefly met Aemond’s and her stomach twisted at his expression. She knew tonight wouldn’t end peacefully.
She flinched slightly as Jace quickly spun her back into his arms, causing her to almost crash into his chest, forcing her much closer to him than she felt was necessary. She leaned back to gain some distance, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, hoping her husband hadn’t been able to tell she had been uncomfortable for a mere second.
Jace would be dead and buried before the sun rose if that were the case.
“I have to admit, I was quite shocked when I heard the news of your wedding.” Jace suddenly spoke, keeping his voice low so only she would hear.
“What was so shocking?”
“I didn’t expect you to end up with someone like him.”
“Someone like him? You mean my oldest friend?” She questioned, disdain creeping through her tone, her defenses raised, which didn’t allow her the wherewithal to speak in a friendly manner.
Jace sighed, as if wanting to dispute the simple fact that she and Aemond had been close for years before marriage was even a thought in either of their heads.
“You two are very different.” He said with a slight shrug. “I pictured you with someone more… warm, romantic even.”
“I assure you, my prince, my husband is plenty romantic. You do not need to worry yourself about my marriage.” She smiled stiffly.
Jace, seeming to sense her attitude, remained silent for the remainder of the dance. As the song ended, she politely curtsied and was walking back to the table before he could rise from his bow.
The tension didn’t dissipate as she took her seat at her husband’s side once more. If anything, the fury radiating from the man beside her only set her more on edge. Aemond leaned into her, making her shoulders tense both in apprehension and desire.
“If he touches you again, I will break every bone in his body.” Aemond hissed in her ear, smirking delightedly at the shiver she repressed.
She looked up at him, his fury now morphed into an insatiable hunger only she could tame. She knew she would be in for a long night.
She was just thankful he seemed to be feeling anything other than murderous rage.
But it did not last long.
She had been speaking quietly to Helaena, Aemond’s hand in hers, his thumb caressing over her knuckles a steady comfort when he suddenly pulled away.
She barely had time to look over at her husband before he was bolting out of his chair. His fist that slammed on the table made her flinch in surprise, her wide eyes looking up at him in confusion.
“Final tribute.”
Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her gaze wandering around the table, wondering what could have possibly stoked his fury. It wasn’t until she saw the sheepish guilt that permeated with fear on Lucerys’ expression that she began to understand.
“To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… strong.”
She felt her breath hitch in her throat, her wide eyed gaze meeting Alicent’s for a brief moment, his mother looking equally as petrified for what was to unfold.
“Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”
She sent her husband a pleading look, but it was lost on him, his gaze, full of hatred, cemented on his nephews.
“I dare you to say that again.”
“Why? Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”
She gasped, her hand covering her mouth as Jace landed a punch to Aemond’s cheek. The room erupted in chaos. She could watch with disappointment as her husband pushed his nephew to the ground, as Aegon joined in and shoved Lucerys against the table.
Helaena stood from her seat and rushed towards her, her face shrouded in fear. She sighed and stood from her seat, wrapping her arm around her friend who seemed disturbed by the rift tearing in her family before her.
“It’s alright.” She assured her.
Across the room, Rhaenyra’s eyes bored into hers, pleading, as if she had any control over her husband’s ire. She sent her an apologetic look and bowed her head, wishing Aemond had taken up her offer to avoid the dinner altogether.
The room came to a standstill, the fighting men separated, a room divided by two factions.
Aemond glared at his uncle who looked at him as if disappointed, as if he were out of line to enact revenge for the slight against him.
He grit his teeth and in a quick motion, swallowed the wine left in his cup before turning back to the table. He avoided looking at his wife as he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he stormed out of the room.
Her feet moved quickly to keep up with his quick pace, her heart in her throat as he led them through the halls.
Once they were back in their chambers, her eyes seldom left him, watching every one of his movements carefully, noticing how highly strung he still was, how stiffly he moved as paced for a moment before he finally took a seat on the edge of the bed.
His anger wouldn’t be leaving him easily.
“Are you alright?”
He stayed quiet for a long moment, gazing ahead blankly, the burning fury that simmered in his veins leaving him practically trembling, the desire to wreak havoc not yet dissipating.
Every part of him was wrought with tension, his mind a mess of thoughts, though his anger was the easiest to make sense of.
“Don’t try to convince me that what I did was wrong.” He spoke bitterly.
“I won’t.”
His jaw clenched, the events of the last few minutes running through his head on a loop, keeping him in the state of rage that made him shake, that made his hands twitch, wishing he had done more, wishing he could hurt that bastard the way he had been hurt all those years ago.
The thought briefly startled him. It was a thought he used to have frequently, when the rage in his heart was so new he didn’t know what to do with it. It was a thought he hadn’t focused on since being with her.
The revelation had an unfamiliar upset stirring within him.
“I should sleep in my old chambers tonight.” He muttered tersely.
The bitter anger burned within him, he felt on the edge of cracking and he would hate himself if he ever took it out on her, his sweet wife. He felt he needed to be far away from her to avoid darkening her with his presence.
“What?”
The sadness in her voice almost broke him. He closed his eye and bowed his head, he couldn’t bear to see the look on her face.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
It was quiet for a long moment, his words lingering in the room like an ominous death rattle that signaled the bitter end after a long, torturous fight.
But she refused to let him sink into his despair.
He flinched as she stepped before him, catching his gaze. Her hands smoothed out the doublet he wore, roaming upwards to brush the hair off his shoulders and gently caressing his neck as she reached up to hold his jaw affectionately.
He let out a deep breath, the tension slowly but surely easing from him in waves under her touch.
“I am not letting you feel this alone.” She told him, her voice soft yet stern, letting him know there was no way he would change her mind about this, that nothing could force her to accept his absence from her side.
“I don’t seem to recognize myself around them.”
His whispered confession hit her harder than she had expected and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, her own emotions rising to the surface at the sight of him so tormented.
“You can never undo what they took from you.” She began slowly, her voice wavering slightly. “I’ll never understand what you’ve been through. I wish I could and I’m so sorry I don’t, but you cannot let this consume you.”
His face remained a mask of torment, his derision and anger battling against the exhaustion that permeated his bitterness, that left him feeling weak in the aftermath of his rage.
She gently guided him to tilt his head upward so she could look at him, so he could see her and the resolution on her face and understand her honesty.
“You are more than your eye. You are more than the rage you feel when you look at them. You are more than them.”
He almost shuddered under her hands, the words striking him with force as though they were dealt with a physical hit.
“I see you, the real you. The one I fell in love with, my sweet husband, the father of my child.”
With that, she grabbed his hand to place it over her stomach and his expression changed in an instant, the anger gone as he caressed where his child grew.
He leaned forward, his forehead falling to rest against her chest, his arms circling her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her to step closer to him, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly.
She ran her fingers through his hair, the soft motions pulling a soft sound from deep within him, his rigid body falling lax against her.
As she hugged him tightly she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She wished she could pull the agony from him, untangle the strings of rage that wound him so tightly.
She wished she could’ve gone back in time and held tighter to the wounded boy who hid his despair from her for so long.
~~
The girls are fightinggg
And the angst is coming xx
~~
Tag List:
@jacaeryslover @allsouls-emma @lianna75 @emoxio @noneedtosearch @watashiwasun @guacam011y @darlingisntit @trickycarrot89-blog @stcrrjoon @knyam @bettysexile @marysucks-blog @lovelyteenagebeard @anehkael @darktrashsoulbear @violetiss3lfish @hueanhdang @mamawiggers1980 @azaleapotterblack @littlestarfighter03 @discofairysworld @ner-dee
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fic#house of the dragon fic
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 15
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14
Steve wishes it was raining. Instead, it’s a crisply cold day, but the sun’s shining brightly, illuminating Steve’s dour mood as he walks, unsure of where he’s even going.
The quarry’s miles away, holding his car and house keys hostage. So, he walks, and walks, and walks, aimless.
Chrissy’s probably still at Eddie’s, reading him the riot act, Jeff at her side, so she’s out. He doesn’t have anyone else—Tommy and Carol long since moving on to greener pastures, and no one on the basketball team would go out of their way to spit on him if he was on fire.
There’s always Nancy, but they’re ghosts in each other’s stories now, ships passing in the night.
He should walk to the quarry to pick up his car, and go home to his quiet, lonely house.
He calls Robin at the first pay phone he passes, digging around in his pocket for loose coins as he dials a number he hopes is hers. She picks up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Where do you live?” he asks.
“Shit, Steve?” her tired voice turns frantic. “Are you oka—”
“Robin,” he cuts in, voice cracking just enough to shut her up. “Can I come over?”
The other line’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of her muffled breathing assuring Steve she hadn’t hung up. “Robin?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry!” she cries, then rattles off her address. “When will you be here?”
It’s a small town, so it only takes Steve a second to reorient himself, figure out the quickest path from where he is to Robin. “About fifteen minutes?” he guesses, not used to accounting for walking time.
Robin sighs, “oh, good,” that frantic edge finally bleeding out of her voice. “Hurry up, dingus, okay?”
He runs out of time before he can reply, phone kicking the dial tone back at him until he hangs it back up, the barrel of the phone rattling as he puts it back on the dirty receiver.
The sun’s low in the sky when he finally stands in front of an unassuming house with a dingy white door. He’s numb, tired to his bones as he knocks quietly on the front door.
Robin flies out, arms wrapping around Steve in a tight hug before he even realizes she’s there. Steve shudders and buries his face in her hair, hands shaking as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her further into his chest.
She pats his back awkwardly but doesn’t let go as she asks, “you okay, dingus?”
“No,” Steve murmurs, afraid of how his voice will come out if he talks any louder. “Can I come in?”
Robin lets go immediately, but Steve holds on a second longer, not wanting to lose her warmth. “You can hug me again in my room, Steve,” she says, arms awkwardly held down at her sides.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with one final squeeze to her middle.
When he finally lets go, fingers flexing in the cold air, Robin leads him into her house. She pulls him through the living room and up a set of stairs too quickly for Steve to get much of an impression past lived in and homey.
“I’ll be in my room!” Robin calls just before she shuts the door behind them, muffling what must be her mom’s response.
Robin’s bed’s messy, and there’s clothes all over her floor. The walls are covered in posters of bands he’s never heard of, pictures cut out of magazines, and little post-it note reminders.
While he gawks at his surroundings, Robin pulls him to her bed and pushes on his shoulders until he sits down on it. She then proceeds to wrestle her quilt away from her other blankets and drape it over his shoulders. Only then does Steve realize he’s shivering as the cold of the outside world slowly seeps out of his bones.
In here, as Robin sits down across from him, he feels safe, finally—safe and warm.
“Okay, spill,” she demands, taking any sting out of the order by reaching out and taking his hand.
Steve takes a breath, ready to heed her orders, before letting it all out. Where does he start? What does he say? Does he start with Jason? With the note to Chrissy? There’s just too much and it’s all tangled together.
But then she squeezes his hand and he says, “I told Eddie.”
He looks down at their linked hands, unwilling to meet her eyes as she prompts, “You told him…” in a hesitant voice.
“That I was the one writing the letters,” he replies. “That I like him, that it was never Chrissy.”
“Oh,” Robin says, scooting closer so their knees bump. He wishes, absurdly, that they were in that same boy’s bathroom stall for this conversation. “Oh, shit. Is he going to tell everyone? Oh my god, are you okay? What did he say?”
“Robin,” Steve cuts her off, knowing from experience that she’ll just keep on spiraling if he lets her. “He’s not going to talk to me anymore.”
And that, for the first time since everything started spiraling out of control, is what makes tears pool in his eyes. Eddie might tell everyone, and he might be run out of town, but that feels unimportant right now.
How can that matter when he’ll never go to another band practice or Dorks & Dragons session? How can that matter when Eddie will never smirk at something Steve says when he thinks Steve’s no longer looking? When he’ll never write another letter, or receive one back?
“I am so sorry, Steve,” she says, and she sounds it, even as she drops his hands to clutch at his face hard enough that his cheeks squish together. “But, are you stupid?”
“Hey!”
She loosens her hold long enough to wipe the few tears off his cheeks before clutching on tighter, nails digging into his cheeks. “I need you to listen to the words I’m saying,” she says, each word enunciated and slow like she thinks Steve’s stupid. “I know it hurts, but Eddie’s just some boy.”
She says the word “boy” like that in and of itself is some cardinal sin, mouth puckered up like it tastes bad on her tongue. Steve laughs, just a little, and she beams at him.
“He’s just a gross, icky boy, but you, Steve Harrington,” she says his name like it’s a revelation. “It has shocked me to my core, but I really, really like you, and I don’t want to have to kill Munson if he tells everyone in town about this, okay? Blood makes me squeamish.”
Steve laughs again, all tears and snot and gross-sounding phlegm. Robin grimaces, but doesn’t let go of him.
“Eddie won’t tell anyone,” Steve replies, pretty sure he’s telling the truth. “He’s too nice.”
She pulls his face closer, eyes boring into his as she says, “he made you cry,” like there is no worse crime. Steve loves her so much.
“I lied to him, Rob.”
Robin sighs, slumping into him until they both tumble down onto her unmade bed, quilts and sheets and comforters lumpy beneath them. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hate him, alright?” she asks, shoving a stuffed elephant into his arms. Steve squeezes it to his chest and stares up at the little glow-in-the-dark stars taped up on her ceiling. “I don’t give a fuck about Munson—I’m here for you.”
And no matter how much he wants to defend Eddie, it’s a comfort to hear. With Chrissy and Jeff, he’s not sure where their loyalties will shake out. Eddie’s their friend, even if they’re Steve’s too. When their newly-forming group fractures at the seams, he’s not sure where they’ll land.
But, he’s got Robin, and maybe that’ll be enough.
“Can I spend the night?” he whispers. “I sort of left my car at the quarry along with my house keys.”
Robin spins around, her hair tickling Steve’s nose as she makes herself comfortable nestled into Steve’s side. “You’re a disaster,” she sighs, “but, yeah. Let me go ask my mom.”
***
In the morning, while Steve’s still starfished out on her bedroom floor, Chrissy calls. Robin’s mom is the one that picks up, but when she yells up the stairs, Robin comes running.
Chrissy’s tinny voice sounds frantic as she asks, “have you seen Steve?” quickly enough that Robin barely catches it. “He was at Eddie’s yesterday, but his car’s not at his house, and he’s not picking up his phone, and I’m so wor—“
“He left his car at the quarry,” Robin cuts in, relieved when it shuts Chrissy up. A small part of her burns that it took Chrissy so long to call her when she’d asked her to, like without Robin in front of her, she’d fled the other girl’s mind entirely. “He’s with me.”
“Oh, good,” Chrissy sighs, sounding so relieved that Robin has a hard time holding onto her grudge. “Did he…tell you?”
Robin glances at her mom, standing in front of the stove and stirring eggs around in a pan, well within hearing range. So, all she says is, “he told me.”
“Is he okay?”
Robin runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth down her bedhead. “Would you be?” Chrissy doesn’t reply—she doesn’t need to, not when they both know there’s only one answer to that question. “Look, I’ve got him, okay?”
“Okay,” she sighs, sounding relieved. Before she can make her excuses to get off the phone, Chrissy asks. “Hey Robin?”
Robin hums in reply, out of words.
“Thank you.”
With that, the girl that Robin likes hangs up on her, probably to call her own boyfriend and update him on the situation. Robin’s gut clenches, but she tries to take her own advice—Chrissy’s just a girl, but Steve? He’s her friend.
“I’m trying not to be nosy,” her mom prompts, and Robin jumps, having entirely forgotten she was there, “but is your friend okay?”
Robin tries to think of a non-outing way to explain the situation before giving it up as a bad job and just saying, “he’s going through a break-up.” Emotion-wise, it feels close enough to the truth anyway.
Her mom spins, spatula in hand as she raises an eyebrow at Robin and asks, “moves on fast, doesn’t he?”
“Ew, Mom!” Robin cries, stalking out of the kitchen to the sound of her mom’s laughter.
Steve’s up when she goes back into her room, rubbing his eyes blearily as he looks around her room like this is the first time he’s seeing it. “You want breakfast?” she asks.
They eat eggs, hash browns and toast, her mom keeping the invasive questions to a minimum, and then they commandeer the TV in the living room to watch shitty romcoms and complain about their disastrous love lives.
It’s fun—Robin can’t remember the last time she’s had a friend over, much less one she can be honest with, so when Steve makes no move to leave as afternoon turns into evening, she doesn’t mention it either, just shoves a baggy clean shirt and a pair of her dad’s sweatpants at him and demands he change.
It’s in the dark of her room that night that Steve asks, “can I sit with you at lunch on Monday?”
Robin smiles, picturing King Steve Harrington strolling up to the band geek’s table like he belongs there. “Course, dingus,” she replies, and is rewarded by Steve reaching up to take her hand.
“Love you, Rob,” he murmurs.
She stares down into the darkness, gobsmacked as his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. Tomorrow morning, her mom will drive Steve to pick up his car, and he’ll go home.
But right now, tonight, Steve Harrington loves her, and he fell asleep holding her hand.
PART 16
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5:42 am
genre: JudeBellingham x you; cute and fluff
summary: After a whole night of no-sleep, you decide to help your boyfriend forget about his overthinking for once.
author's note: Cute and fluffy! Didn't want to make it too depressing so i added a bit of humor; i know this is work is unexpected but i'm getting a lot of inspiration rn!
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ
The world is still asleep when Jude wakes, moving with the careful precision of someone practiced in not disturbing the peace. His hand reaches for his phone on the bedside table, and he shifts cautiously to sit up on the edge of the bed.
The room is dark save for the faint blue light creeping through the curtains, a soft haze that makes everything feel slower, quieter.
He doesn’t hear you stir behind him.
The mattress dips slightly as you roll over, and he freezes. For a second, he thinks you’ll fall back asleep, but your voice—soft and warm like the blankets tangled around you—breaks the silence.
"You're already up"
It’s not a question, and there’s no frustration in your tone—just a quiet understanding. Before every match, he could never sleep. He’d toss and turn, get up for water, but he could never settle—especially now, with so much to think about.
Jude glances over his shoulder, a little sheepish as he meets your sleepy gaze.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs. His voice is a whisper, rough from the early hour.
“You didn’t.” You stretch slightly, the movement slow and lazy. “You never do.”
He smiles at that—small, almost imperceptible in the low light. You sit up halfway, leaning on your elbow as you watch him tug on a sweatshirt over his T-shirt.
“Don’t go just yet,” you say, voice still quiet but carrying a softness that stops him mid-motion. “Come back here for a minute; you have so much time left. ”
Jude doesn't hesitate even for a second as soon as he sees you—still cocooned in blankets, your hair messy and your eyes heavy-lidded but bright. It’s not a hard choice, not really.
He slips back into bed without a word, settling beside you. Your arm loops around his waist instinctively, and he leans into it, letting his head rest against yours.
The silence in the room is thick but comforting, punctuated only by the faint hum of the world outside—a car passing, the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Jude’s breathing evens out as he melts into your embrace, the tension in his shoulders softening. You run your hand gently along his back, tracing patterns you don’t think about but that he seems to feel, leaning into each movement.
“You think too much,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but close enough that he hears it.
He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his arm drapes over you, pulling you closer. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel him exhale deeply, as if the weight of what you said has settled somewhere in his chest.
“I just want to get it right,” he murmurs, finally. The words are small but heavy, like they’ve been sitting on the tip of his tongue for days.
“You always do.”
The response is automatic, and you mean it—every syllable. You wish you could pull his thoughts away, fold it neatly into something manageable. But for now, all you can do is hold him.
Jude pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. The dim light softens his features—his dark eyes are wide, thoughtful, his lips parted as if he’s about to say something but decides against it.
“You okay?” you ask, brushing a hand through his hair, which is still slightly messy from sleep.
Jude lingers in the embrace a moment longer, his face tucked against the curve of your neck, the warmth of your skin drawing out a softness he didn’t realize he needed. But when he finally shifts, there’s something lighter in his expression. He nudges his nose against your cheek, playful, and murmurs,
“You’ve turned me into a morning person, you know.”
You laugh, low and easy, your fingers pausing in his hair to tap lightly against the side of his head. “I don’t think you get to claim that title until you actually enjoy mornings, Jude.”
He pulls back enough to look at you, an exaggerated pout forming on his lips. “What if I just enjoy mornings with you?”
“That’s sweet,” you tease, your smile brightening the dim room. “But you still groan every time the alarm goes off, so I’m not sure it counts.”
“Details.” He grins, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before sitting up. The bed shifts under his weight, and you watch as he stretches, the hem of his sweatshirt riding up slightly. The sight makes you laugh—something about the way his early-morning dishevelment feels so ordinary and yet so utterly him.
He glances over his shoulder at you, catching the amused tilt of your smile. “What?”
“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head, though the laughter still dances in your voice. “You’re just...cute like this.”
His ears turn a little pink, and he rubs the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s make some coffee before you embarrass me even more.”
“Embarrass you? Never,” you shoot back, but you’re already sitting up, tossing the blankets aside. The cool air hits your skin, and you shiver slightly, reaching for the oversized sweater draped over the chair beside the bed. Jude is already standing, holding a hand out to help you up.
The two of you move quietly even though you're alone in the house, the soft shuffle of your steps the only sound. Jude goes straight to the counter, pulling out the coffee beans and the grinder.
“You want tea, right?” he asks over his shoulder, already reaching for the kettle.
“Mm-hmm,” you hum, leaning against the counter and watching him. He moves with a kind of easy precision, his focus shifting between the coffee and the kettle like it’s a little morning ritual he’s perfected. You can’t help but smile—it’s a far cry from the nerves that had him tossing and turning earlier.
“What’s funny now?” he asks, catching your expression as he sets the kettle to boil.
“Just you,” you say, your voice light. “All serious about coffee like it’s a science.”
“It is a science,” he replies, mock-indignant. “And you’re lucky I’m good at it, or you’d be stuck drinking whatever shit they call coffee down the street.”
“Oh yeah?” you shoot back, barely suppressing a laugh. “Says the guy who puts honey in his coffee.
Jude shakes his head, chuckling as he stirs the honey into his mug. “Is it that bad?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.
You shrug, fighting back a grin. “I mean, I wouldn’t say bad. Just...no okay it's actually bad.”
Jude groans dramatically, hand over his heart as if your words wounded him. “Wow. First thing in the morning, and you’re already coming for me.”
After a moment, you set your mug down and glance at him. “What do you want for breakfast? Or are we just surviving on caffeine today?”
Jude’s lips curve into a small, thoughtful smile. “Surviving on caffeine sounds very me,” he admits. Then, after a beat, he straightens and adds, “But pancakes sound better.”
“Pancakes?” you say, arching a brow. “Aren't you the man who claims he doesn’t need breakfast?”
“I’m evolving,” he says, feigning a look of mock importance. “Also, I think we have chocolate chips in the pantry.”
You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Chocolate chip pancakes at dawn? I really am impressed.”
He nudges your side playfully, grinning. “Come on, let’s do it. We’ll make them quick. I’ll even let you flip them.”
“Generous of you,” you tease, already moving toward the pantry.
The only sounds are the soft clatter of bowls and utensils as the two of you work together, gathering ingredients and mixing the batter. Jude insists he’s got the perfect pancake recipe memorized, but you end up adding a little extra milk to the bowl when he’s not looking, just to mess with him.
“What did you just do?” he asks, squinting at you suspiciously as you stir.
“Nothing,” you say innocently, biting back a grin. “Just making sure it’s not too thick.”
He narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t argue, instead grabbing a ladle and heating the pan. “Alright, let’s see how this goes.”
The first pancake comes out a little lopsided, and you burst into laughter as Jude flips it onto a plate with exaggerated precision.
“Hey,” he says, pointing the spatula at you, “it’s not about how it looks—it’s about how it tastes.”
“Sure, Chef Jude,” you reply, still laughing as you lean against the counter, watching him pour the next one.
The second pancake is better—golden brown and perfectly round—and by the time the stack is finished, the kitchen smells like warm batter and melted chocolate. Jude sets the plate on the table with a triumphant flourish, and you grab two forks, sliding into a chair beside him.
Jude nudges your foot under the table, catching your eye as he chews his first bite.
“Not bad, huh?” he says, grinning.
You smile back, warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the pancakes. “Not bad at all.”
You pause eating and carefully set the little fork down on your plate. Looking at him, you offer a gentle smile, hoping to ease the weight of the long night.
“You’re going to do great today. I just know it.”
He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing your nose and then your cheek. After a moment, his hand settles softly on yours.
"I hope your predictions are right, then"
#jude bellingham#x reader#fanfic#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x reader#real madrid#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham blurb#bellingham#jb5#rmcf#bellingham latest#bellingham x reader#jude victor william bellingham#x reader fanfiction#x reder fluff#x you fluff#fluff#imagines#female reader#football fanfic#football#football imagine#football masterlist#footballers#one shot
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Choices (Bucky version)
So you all know the fic choices and choices 2 with a cheating Bucky and sweetheart Steve. I couldn't help myself, I decided to also have a version where Steve is the cheater and reader ends up with Bucky. I'm such a Bucky girl, it cannot be helped. It's the same fic with a few details added to suit the character changes, reversed roles and all in one part.
18 + minors dni
Steve x reader, Bucky x reader
Warnings: ANGST, cheating, Steve is a dick, SMUT, fluff, Bucky is a sweetheart
“Fuck you taste good sweets”
Your stomach dropped, cold sweat erupting over your body, hearing your husband’s voice and a woman’s moans from your bedroom. You’d suspected it for a while but it couldn’t be true, he wouldn’t.
You quietly opened the door, slapping your hand over your mouth over the sight in front of you, Steve’s head buried between some woman’s legs, her thighs thrown over his shoulders as he held her open with his thick arms, groaning as he ate her out. She cried in pleasure, tugging his hair forcing his face in deeper, their clothes thrown on the floor, her bra carelessly tossed on the framed wedding picture you had on the bedside table.
You couldn’t move, rooted on the spot as he pried her legs apart further, making her back arch, his tongue assaulting her clit, flicking and swirling circles around it, his hips grinding his cock into the mattress, moaning.
“Best fucking pussy ever baby, can’t get enough of you, could cum just from your taste baby fuck”
You felt light headed, leaning against the hallway to catch yourself, slipping onto the floor, unable to leave even if you wanted to. You pressed your hands to your mouth, desperately trying to silence your cries.
“Oh god Steve FUCK, push your tongue in me baby, just like that, fuck just like that Captain” You could hear the wet slapping of his tongue, her voice screaming higher as he made her cum with his mouth.
“C'mon cum for me baby, want it all over my face, oh god m’gonna cum just rubbing myself like this, no one else gets me off like you, FUCK sweets, AH-”
His moans caused your heart to splinter, the aftermath of their affair slowly winding down to labored breaths and messy sheets. You lifted your head slightly, seeing Steve pull her into his arms, making out with her, his face covered in her slick, his cock softening against his abs. Their tongues tangled, moaning into each others mouths as he pulled the covers up, his arms wrapping around her.
“You’re wife will be home soon, I should get going baby” She traced shapes onto his chest as he pulled her hand, pressing a kiss onto her palm. “No, stay just a little longer, 5 minutes sweets, please?”
The slight whine in his voice begging her to stay make you nearly throw up. Your body felt like it was filled with cement, hearing the woman giggle, snuggling to up with your husband.
“Hmm, does she make you feel good like I do, handsome?”
“Nothing compares to you darling, don’t worry about her” He murmured with a light chuckle, leaning into her touch while she stroked his beard. "Wish we had a little longer"
She sighed, grabbing her bra off your wedding picture, scoffing at it.
“You could do better you know, she doesn’t seem like you’re type”
“I do know” Steve sat up, kissing her shoulder as she strapped her bra on “I got you pretty girl, I’ll see you tonight?"
"Won't your wife ask where you're going" The woman had the audacity to sound annoyed though what killed you the most was the way Steve groaned in agreement.
"Don't worry about her, I’ll come over, okay?”
“Wouldn’t miss it baby, see you later Cap”
Your heart shattered, sprinting away from the room, down the hall and out the door, sobs wracking your body.
He promised.
He whispered vow’s he’d written just for you. You’d loved him with your entire being, cradling him, taking care of him, pouring your heart and soul into everything that had to do with him.
You already knew the excuse he'd give. He’d say he had a rough day and would avoid you until tomorrow. He’d go to the bar for a drink to unwind, needing alone time and you’d let him because you wanted to give him space. He’d go over to her place, and make love to her for countless hours into the night, seeking the comfort of someone else.
Your love wasn’t enough.
-
You left the house, immediately getting into your car, driving mindlessly with no particular destination in mind. Your chest heaved, tears blurring your vision as you pulled into an empty parking lot, breaking down again. You sat there for well over an hour, your entire body burning, a ding from your phone interrupting your thoughts. You checked your phone, scoffing at the text message from your husband.
“Going out tonight, don’t stay up.”
You screamed in frustration thinking about every time you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him, the countless hours of sleep you lost worried about him, calling and texting him throughout the night, wondering if he was okay. The number of times he brushed you off, telling you not to be so clingy. You’d put in so much of your love and affection for this man who didn’t have the decency to tell you to your face he didn’t love you anymore.
The entire world looked up to this man as their hero, Captain America, a symbol of justice, hope, fairness and he couldn't care less to at least respect your dignity and leave.
You felt a surge of anger, how dare he!? Bring another woman into your home, into your bed, your sheets, wrapped around her naked body, her fucking clothes thrown all over the floor. How many times would you have slept in the very same bed after he warmed it with her?!
You could do the same.
You pulled into the drive way, making your way up the stairs, knocking on the front door.
“Y/n? Its late, is everything okay? Is Steve okay?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, walking into the house, kicking your shoes off. Poor Bucky, always worrying about his best friend, just like you, concerned for his well being, coddling him like a baby. What a fucking waste.
“He’s great actually. He’s currently buried balls deep in someone else”
Bucky choked, staring at you wide eyed as you sauntered around the living room, mindlessly looking at framed pictures he had up, including one from your wedding.
“What?!”
“Mhm, you didn’t know? A red head. Saw them both today, in our bedroom. He was so pussy whipped he didn’t even realize I came home. In fact did you know the great Captain who constantly tells people to mind their language swears like a sailor when he's fucking someone's brains out”
“Fuck, I told him not to- FUCK. I’m so sorry y/n, I didn’t think he’d ever cheat on you”
“You told him not to what?” You turned around, your expression unreadable as you stood in front of Bucky, his face flushed as he looked at the floor before looking at you.
“He’d- fuck- He’d always flirt when we went out. I told him to stop but he said wasn't even doing anything. I thought it was him still adjusting to all the attention but he used to do it in the 40's too. I thought maybe he didn't even realize what he was doing so it was harmless”
You scoffed, shaking your head as Bucky stepped forward, wrapping his thick arms around you. “I’m so sorry doll, I should have stepped in”
“You can step in now”
“What?”
Bucky pulled back, blinking down at you, looking confused as you smirked, trailing your fingers along his chest, going up to play with the dog tags that rested against his chest.
“Step in now James”, You tugged at his chain, his breath hitching in his throat as your lips brushed by his ear “Make it go away”
You could feel his cock stir as you pressed your body on his. Bucky had always had a crush on you. Of course he never acted on it, you were his best friends wife. But here you were, offering yourself on a silver platter, he’d be a fool to say no. Still…
“Y/n” He squeezed his eyes, hoping some blood would return to his brain, his cock aching in his jeans. “We can’t”
“And why’s that?”
“It’s wrong” Bucky's words didn’t match his actions as he gripped onto your hips, pulling you flush against him, his boner rubbing against you, it was so wrong but it felt so right.
“Tell me you never thought about it?” Your hands trailed down to palm over his length as he groaned, resting his forehead on yours “about us? You never thought about how I’d look spread out on your bed, saying your name instead of his?”
"Y/n"
"Make me forget, Sergeant"
Fuck it.
You screamed out in pleasure chanting Bucky’s name like a prayer, his cock splitting you in half, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. Bucky chuckled at your fucked out state, pausing for a moment to let you rest before the next round.
*3 missed calls*
He returned with a bottle of water and some strawberries, feeding you one as you tossed your phone carelessly to the side.
“What’s wrong doll”
“Ugh, he called”
Bucky thought for a moment before grabbing your phone and propping it up, a wicked smile on his face.
“You wanna show him what’s keeping you busy?”
-
You both woke to a loud banging on the door; your body too sore to bother moving.
“BUCKY OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR”
Bucky yawned, wrapping his arms around you tighter, pulling a pillow above his head.
"I think your husband is here" He sleepily mumbled, tucking his face into your neck, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.
"He's your best friend" You mumbled back, burrowing yourself further into his hold, ignoring the incessant knocking.
“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE FUCKING THERE, GET THE FUCK OUT NOW”
Bucky rolled his eyes, his semi hard cock pressing into your ass making you giggle.
“Someone’s happy this morning”
“All for you baby”
You heard the banging get louder.
“BUCKY, Y/N FUCK”
“Should we get that?”
“5 more minutes”
*36 missed calls*
*47 unopened messages*
Oh, this was going to be good.
Bucky groaned, tucking you in the sheets before getting out of bed and pulling some sweats on.
“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE THERE”
He rolled his eyes, sauntering over to the door, opening it to a raging Steve, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face, the knuckles of his right hand bloodied and bruised. Someone’s upset.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING”
Bucky smirked, his chin glistening, licking your arousal that was still on his lips from mere seconds ago. He made a show of sucking your taste off his fingers, humming in satisfaction.
“Sorry, just woke u-
“Where the fuck is she?!”
Steve shoved Bucky aside, stomping up the stairs making his way to the bedroom, only to be grabbed back and pushed against the wall.
“Don’t do this, where the fuck is my wife” Steve’s voice was low, chest rumbling as his fists clenched at his sides, trying to collect himself.
“You remember you have a wife?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, dodging Steve’s fist and catching it with his metal arm before slamming him against the wall.
“How the FUCK COULD YOU SLEEP WITH HER?!” Steve spat, unable to scrub the images of you moaning for his best friend, your legs wrapped tightly around him, crying out in pleasure, begging for more. He couldn’t rid himself of the way you looked slobbering over Bucky’s cock and balls, looking up at the camera with doe eyes, moaning when he came in your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show you swallowed it all like a good girl. You made a show of letting Bucky rail you from behind, screaming his name while he tugged your hair and pushed you down, spanking your ass raw. His dog tags hung between your breasts as he tugged and rolled your nipples between his fingers.
The words were so much worse.
"Come on, ride your Sergeants cock babydoll, that's it, so fuckin' good for me"
"Cock's too big Jamie, hurts"
Your breathy, whiny voice made Steve want to throw up, your lip chewed raw, eyes unfocused.
"Awww, is it too big? So cockdrunk for me princess, I got you love, c'mhere, y'like that? Like when I'm on top my pretty girl, I'll make you feel good baby"
"Gonna be the death of me gorgeous, wouldn't give you up for the world, you hear me? Gonna cum in your princess, can't hold it, you're perfect-FUCK"
“HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON HER!?” Bucky’s grip tightened, feeling rage, disappointment, but also a tinge of arrogance; now he had you and he wasn’t going to let you go.
Steve swallowed thickly, no longer resisting, letting his arms drop to his side. He stared at the floor, guilt and sadness washing over him.
“How could you cheat on her” Bucky’s voice was soft now, genuinely upset over his friends actions. He let Steve go, both men standing in the hallway, the air thick with tension.
“It was a mistake”
“You brought someone else into your home, into your bed, you picked someone else over y/n, what else did you expect her to do”
Steve felt his heart race, he couldn’t lose you like this, he made impulsive choices but you were the one who always believed in him. He started towards the bedroom door again before Bucky grabbed his hand stopping him.
“I want to see her” His eyes were pleading but Bucky shook his head.
“She saw you, you know. That’s why she came here” Steve looked up at Bucky in shock, his eyes wide, he felt like he was going to throw up. Bucky scoffed looking at Steve’s pained expression.
“Just get out”
“Bucky just let me see her-
“Don’t”
Steve’s emotions were running a thousand miles a minute, jealously, anger, guilt, sadness. He drove straight to her house, needing to fuck his pain away, spiraling as he sped down the streets. He went up to her apartment, knocking at the door, hearing another voice behind the door before she opened it.
“Steve? I- what are you doing here, I- it’s not a good time” She kept the door a crack open, without letting him in, her eyes shifting nervously.
“Baby, everything okay?” A man’s voice called her from behind. She nodded, mumbling something to him before stepping into the hallway.
“What the fuck?!”
“SHH, my husband is inside!”
“You said you weren’t together any more”
“I-it’s nothing”
“How the fuck could you” Steve felt his chest tighten, he shouldn’t have even come here, he shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place, it was you in his heart, he loved you.
She scoffed. “You cheated on your wife with me and I’m supposed to hold out for you and expect you to be loyal to me too?”
Steve left without saying another word, anger surging through his body, rage flowing in his veins. How the fuck could he stray from you, he pushed you away every time you tried to take care of him. He took advantage of your kindness, took advantage of how much you trusted him. He couldn’t lose you but you were in his best friend’s arms and Bucky would never do what he did.
The house was utterly destroyed. Anything that came into his hand was shattered against the wall as Steve took all his anger out in the house. Why the fuck did he act so impulsively, how could he let you see that, why the fuck did he let someone else into his life when you were his whole heart.
He stepped into the bedroom, not wanting to touch a single thing that would take away from your presence; he wanted things to be exactly how you left them. He looked at the wedding picture on the table, breaking down into sobs; you were smiling up at him, your eyes bright, looking at him with so much affection. He had his arm around you waist, he promised to love and protect you for as long as he lived. He called you his angel, he told you he’d never hurt you and here he was.
Steve nearly threw up looking at the bed. The sheets were still tangled from that afternoon, pillows thrown aside. He washed them repeatedly, his stomach churning when he could still smell her on them.
Steve thought he was losing his mind, the coldness of the bed. The silence of the house. He could no longer smell your soft scent on the sheets, nightmares plagued his mind. His chest ached thinking about how broken you would have felt seeing him, how meaningless the entire affair was to him and it took away the one thing in his life that gave him a reason to live.
A week later
“Just sign them Steve”
“Baby please don’t do this”
You sighed in frustration having spent hours arguing with Steve as he refused to sign the divorce papers.
“You made your choice, I’m making mine”
“It was a mistake y/n, I- I can’t fucking exist without you-
“You should have thought about that before you fucked someone else in our bed Steve”
“Don’t call me that!” He pleaded with you, hating the way his name sounded, you never called him Steve.
You shook your head, getting up and leaving him with the papers as he cried after you, begging for you to stay.
“Goodbye Steve”
6 months later
You had packed your things, staying with Sarah for the time being until you found your own place. Steve was drinking himself into oblivion, unable to even get drunk from the dark liquid. He hadn’t slept in the bedroom since, staying on the couch instead.
Bucky let himself in the house; not like Steve bothered to lock it any more.
“You have to stop”
Steve scoffed bitterly, taking another swing from his glass, finishing another bottle of whisky.
“Easy for you to say”
Steve felt a pang of anger in his chest, he had no right to be mad at you or Bucky but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find peace, keeping a sweater you left behind with him when he tried to sleep, crying into it every night.
“Don’t. She loved you”
"But I still love her"
Bucky shook his head, a part of him feeling bad for Steve. He tried so hard to win you back, but the damage was done. The image was burnt in your mind, nothing would ever take that away. You tried to give him one chance but the second he touched you, your mind flashed to the way he touched her. You couldn’t. It was over.
“How is she”
“Doing better. Not great, but better”
3 Years later
You fixed you veil, holding onto your bouquet of flowers as you made your way down the aisle. He stood there, waiting for you, soft blue eyes brimming with tears as he watched you, his chestnut hair combed back, beard trimmed.
“You look amazing y/n” The best man gave you a teasing wink, smiling as you took your place in front of your soon to be husband.
“Thanks Sam” You grinned, feeling your face heat up as Bucky lifted your veil, a stray tear slipping out as he look your hands in his, his voice cracking, hardly above a whisper.
“I love you”
***
“You may kiss the bride”
You giggled as Bucky gently cupped your face, pulling you into the sweetest loving kiss, everyone in the crowd clapping and cheering, your heart fluttering with happiness. You were so in love with him; you thought you knew what love and happiness was before but nothing compared to this. This moment; so pure, so full of love.
***
Bucky held you close to him, his hands on your waist as you both swayed to your first dance as husband and wife. His hand tipped your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips; he was so utterly and deeply in love with you.
“You look gorgeous tonight Mrs. Barnes”
You giggled shyly, taking his hand in yours as the song came to an end. You made your way through the crowd, greeting guests,
“Congratulations, I’m happy for you” Steve smiled softly looking at you in Bucky’s arms. He wanted to mean what he said but his heart was still in pain. He had you and he let you go. He wanted to feel happy for you, happy for Bucky but it was too much. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, blinking back tears as you looked up at Bucky, in pure happiness.
“Thanks punk” Bucky gave him a quick hug, keeping you by his side as you both continued to greet guests.
“They’re so sweet” Sarah giggled watching you both sneak quick kisses, Bucky whispering something in your ear making you gasp before playfully slapping his chest. Steve felt his chest tighten, getting up and leaving the room, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.
He closed his eyes. He remembered the way you looked at him when you walked down the aisle. The way you looked so angelic in your dress. The way you danced together for the first time, your arms draped around his shoulders, his hands holding you close. The pure love he felt for you, he told himself he’d never let you cry. All the times he stopped trying because you had enough love for the both of them. He remembered the day he met her. He hesitated but gave into his desires, the side of him that need to feel wanted by others, thinking you were with him because you loved him but he needed more. To be desired. And now here he was. He’d never be able to love again; it’d never be the same. He had the one person that would love him unconditionally and he threw it all away.
“You gotta let her go” Sam broke Steve out of his spiral, patting his shoulder lightly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “C’mon, I’ll take you home”
Steve sighed, as he watched longingly. The shy smiles, gentle touches, whispering sweet nothings to each other, he’d never get you back. You’d found your forever, your happy ending.
-
"M'always gonna love you, you have my heart" Bucky whispered against your shoulder, his bare skin pressed against yours as you both caught your breath. His fingers gently grazed your scalp, kissing your forehead, a part of him still wondering if it was all a dream.
The woman he loved so dearly under him while he made love to her on their wedding night.
Her soft thighs wrapped around his waist.
Her moans of pleasure all just for him.
All of his spend filling her up time and time again until he had no more to give.
It was all too perfect, too much too-
"And you have mine" You whispered back, draping your arms around your husbands shoulders, your hand snaking up to card your fingers through his hair, "I love you too"
And just like that it was all perfect.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barns imagine#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x you#bucky x smut#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel smut#marvel fanfic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fanfic#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes
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♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.
⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.
⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k
⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t
kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.
he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.
overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.
a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’
you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.
both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.
11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.
‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’
you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.
you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.
despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.
all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.
03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.
he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.
the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.
kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.
‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.
“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.
kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.
you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.
“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.
kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.
yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.
“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”
kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.
he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he
not that that would stop kento.
your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.
strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —
“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”
your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.
you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.
“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”
his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.
“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”
those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.
“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.
it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.
“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.
you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.
“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.
both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.
kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.
“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#nanami x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#jjk fic#jjk fanfic
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Daily Log 9
Trying out (probably just temporarily) making short daily-ish notes about things, in an attempt to see if it helps me be more reflective or productive lol.
Activities: Worked on the previously mentioned tapestry style painting thing for like 5-6 hours today (with a few breaks in between), and that's just for the border around the main picture lol.. I think all the little sections and detail always take longer than I think they might. But hopefully the final product will look interesting! :0
I feel like I'm entering another Sick Phase where I just am weird/ill/sleepy/having joint pains much of the day (probably some vitamin deficiencies or hormone imbalances or general bodily inflammation or whatever nonsense seems to randomly pop up from time to time lol), so couldn't focus on anything more intensive like writing or editing videos, unfortunately. It's good to have smaller crafts I can do that don't take much mental effort and are just menial hand tasks (like carving, painting, sculpting, etc.), but I still always feel frustrated falling behind on the things I see as much more broadly significant to my overall life and potential career (making games, writing, finishing videos, socializing, costumes, etc.)
Organized my desk a little. Responded to some doctor emails. Paid bills.
Planned out something I might make with pressed flowers tomorrow.
Edited like 4 costume photos.
Also have a lingering sense of dread due to the weather. The heat often makes me feel terrible, and if I'm already in kind of a Bad Phase at the moment, I'm afraid of it making it even worse... stimky..
Which I know these temperatures are nothing to some people but.. to me... aUGHHHH... I am abnormally heat sensitive + live in a dinky old apartment with no ventilation that gets direct sun the hottest part of the day.. on a 90F day outside, it literally gets about 84F inside.. like.. even people who love the heat I feel like would struggle to sleep at night if their bed is 85F lol... hewwo.. You can spray yourself down with water, drink ice water, put a fan on yourself, etc. etc. but.. sometimes it just feels so oppressive and inescapable..
ANYWAY. Aside from painting, feeling weird, and dreading the upcoming heat/contemplating my entire life and how to get enough money to move to a different climate somehow one day/existential exhaustion/etc., I didn't accomplish very much lol
Spent maybe 30 minutes thinking about a little more worldbuilding stuff, and some things in reference to the game I mentioned resuming work on at some point.
Notable sights: The clouds were really pretty and pastel this afternoon, and some stars are visible in the sky for once since the nights are beginning to be clearer. The 'forget me not' flowers that I thought had died after transplanting actually seemed to be perked up and healthy looking today, and perhaps may actually survive. >:3
Goals moving forward: Do new poll adventure post. focus on social activities, finding new friends in the places I want to move, communicating with the ones I have. Physical therapy exercises. Finish and upload videos, edit costume pictures & etc. Do the new costumes I've planned. MAKE SCULPTURES at some point, I miss them.
Notable foods: Not much, kind of a warm day so didn't really want to use the oven. No idea how I'll handle the diet I've been put on by my doctors (involves usually cooking all food fresh, using the stove a lot, nothing is supposed to be canned or processed or premade, so that eliminates a lot of 'quick easy simple warm weather' meals, etc. etc.) during the heatwave. I might just have to break the diet a little and hope it doesn't give me stomach pains while I'm already hot and feeling sick lol..
I did have a boiled egg with some green onions on top, which is very simple but was refreshing somehow lol. Another ice cold ginger ale treat today, and some cold prune juice (which I know most people find gross/it's an old person food/etc., but I like that it's a smooth textured and not very sweet juice? Like it's slightly thicker than apple juice, has a lightly bitter taste, etc. I just find it nice for some reason. More evidence I am secretly an 85 year old wizard)
#why can't it be global cooling instead of global warming.. what if everything was just ice and I was comfortable and happy all year around#heat also sometimes gives me like a.. mild situational claustrophobia (like not a place that you are confined in/can't escape#but more an environmental factor that's all consuming. Like when there's fires and smoke fills the sky for days and it's like no matter#where you are you could never get away from it unless you're locked inside shut off from the entire world. if you need a breath#of fresh air or are feeling too confined you no longer have the option of going outside. it's all toxic. etc.)#Or like part of why I hate long car rides is for that reason. If I'm 3 hours away from home there is no way for me to get home#other than to ride 3 hours back. If I suddenly decided I really would rather be home I could not get home quickly. the 3 hours#to get home is an inescapable barrier. No matter how sick I started feeling or how bad things are and how much I wish I was comfortable#and safe at home - the only way to get there is to get there. you knowwhat I mean lol? I can't just be home in 20 minutes#it's a 3 hour ride or nothing. etc. etc. Like if you're on a ship in the middle of the ocean and suddenly just desperately decided you need#to be back on land. there isn't anything you can do. nothing will get you back on land but to stay on the ship and travel the hours it take#to get there. there's no quick exit. No way out that isn't doing the thing you already really don't want to be doing anymore (being in a ca#r or being in a ocean or etc. No alternative route but to just suffer the situation longer). idk.. if that makes sense??#so with the heat sometimes it's like.. it's hot INSIDE and it's hot OUTSIDE and it's hot everywhere you go theres no escape#from it and nothing you can do but just.. be hot. no matter how desperate you are to just BE COLD even for a few minutes#you simply don't have the option. The only way to get cool again is to just wait out the hot weather. You can yearn for the feeling of a#cool breeze all you want but abdolutely nothing will get you colder than just to be miserable in place and wait for the passage of time.#I always get that feeling in the summer like after five 90+F degree days in a row you're like AAAAAAAAAA#JUST AN ESCAPE JUST A QUICK ESCAPE DEAR LORD ' and then 5 minutes later like 'hee he. no its fine. haha. im actually so okay#with my situation i am coping.' short bursts of heat induced frantic anxiety with some resigned calm in between ghjgj#ANYWAY. yes every year I complain about the same thing. I am a hater and a complainer first and foremost ggh.. I love to be honest and#express my thoughts and opinions. I think way too many people are so reserved and repress everything for the sake of like social etiquitte#or personal insecurity (like owrrying they're being annoying or talking too much or that novody cares what they say etc.)#and then that ends up causing passive agression and communication issues and resentments that boil under the surface for years because they#re never adequately expressed. I don't think complaining is an inherently negative thing and it's weird to me that people react so#like it's some sort of moral thing to be against it. Like of course within reason. don't complain to the point that you appreciate#none of the good things around you or like where you start bullying people or something. but broadly speaking. being able to express your#concerns and thoughts in small bursts easily and openly and release some of that tension is better than just holding onto it all and having#it come out larger later or making you internally miserable or etc.. ANYWAY.. yeaghh.. hate heat.. hopefully done with painting soon.etc.#daily log
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"i'm not jealous!" | bsf!beomgyu
✩ genre: lots of fluff, f2l, mutual pining, musician gyu
✩ warnings: swear words, jealousy
Beomgyu had always loved you. It was quite obvious to everyone that saw the two of you, but somehow your eyes were always clouded to his true feelings. At first he became friends with you to see if he stood any chance- kind of shitty of him to be honest and he knew that- but now, your friendship bloomed into something deeper, a bond that people could only wish they had.
Whenever someone came up to you and Beomgyu, asking if you made it official since the last time they saw you, you would always wave your arms around and shake your head quickly to ward off the idea that you were more than friends. Beomgyu always wanted to say yes; after all, if people saw you two as a couple, then why couldn't you be? He guessed the biggest thing in the way was that you saw him as a best friend only, maybe even as a brother, and the thought hurt him more than anything.
Now you were sitting besides Beomgyu in his studio, as he listened over and over to the new track he made. Both him and Yeonjun were playing with different instruments, the versatile range going from a piccolo to an electric drum kit. They had been at this for hours and you were feeling left out as the friend date went from hanging out to messing around the studio. You could probably contribute more ideas, but sleep was already heavy on your eyelids. You looked blearily at them, clearing your throat in annoyance when their laughs broke the sound barrier yet again that night.
"Guys, I think I might head home. I'm a little tired, and I don't think I'm really necessary for this?" The last sentence might've sounded a little passive aggressive, but you knew they wouldn't take it that way. It was the truth after all: you were too tired and couldn't help much.
You failed to catch the disappointment on Beomgyu's falling face as he turned around to look at you.
"But Y/NNNN," he whined, "we'll be done soon! It'll just take 5 minutes. Plus, I-uh we need you." I need you, he thought silently, almost blurting the wrong words out. The frown on his face was big as he accentuated it to gain pity points. You rolled your eyes, smiling at both his playfulness and how badly he wanted you there.
Yeonjun sat up from his chair and glanced at you as he shuffled his weight to the right side.
"Sorry, Y/N. We got a good idea for a song and can't walk you out now" he paused for a second to look at the glistening watch on his wrist, "but if you want, I could grab you some coffee? That'll keep you up for longer probably."
Yeonjun's kindness and the thought of coffee made you smile. Coffee sounded glorious at that very moment and Yeonjun was an angel for coming up with that idea so quickly. If not, you would definitely fall asleep on the firm and uncomfortable couch you were sitting on.
"Okay, thanks! Just grab my usual, okay?"
He smiled at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes, "of course!" Beomgyu watched the two of you quietly, his eyes glancing between your face and Yeonjun's for a hint of romance or perhaps hopefully that nothing was there at all. Nothing was there, right? He felt sick to his stomach as he heard you humming happily from the grey couch.
The room, now enveloped in thickened silence, surprised you. At this time, Beomgyu would be yapping your ear off about some of the instruments he found in the studio. Now that he was silent, the atmosphere felt incredibly awkward. You stopped humming and looked up to see Beomgyu with a clenched jaw looking down at the floor.
"Gyu," you whispered, deciding to take Yeonjun's seat in lieu of the boy who was grabbing your coffee, "what's wrong? You're never this silent." You smoothed out your bottoms, hoping you'd feel more comfortable. It just didn't feel right that Beomgyu wasn't initiating the conversation.
His face was still unreadable as he looked at the floor, counting the tiles, "he knows your usual? I thought I only knew your usual." His tone of his voice was rough and ragged, a feeling that you couldn't put your finger on. You were more confused than anything.
"It's just coffee, Gyu?" you questioned, tone becoming a bit defensive, "you know lots of things about me that he doesn't know about, if you're worried." In your opinion, it was a silly thing to worry about. Unfortunately for your heart, Beomgyu was your best friend. Since he only saw you platonically, the two of you were great friends. Yeonjun was just a close friend and besides, you and Beomgyu were closer. Why he was upset about this- it didn't make sense.
He gasped exasperatedly, now looking at you. You could see fire behind his eyes as he pursed his lips, "But coffee is a big deal! You don't understand, Y/N."
"... I clearly don't. Why is it a big deal?" You questioned again, but he didn't answer. Well, he didn't want to answer.
You tried again, prodding into him, but he was as closed off as ever. "What is this about?"
Then an idea flew into your head. No way... it couldn't be, but... it was right there all along. You started to laugh to yourself to which Beomgyu cocked his head at. You probably looked insane.
"Don't tell me..." you giggled, feeling giddy, "are you jealous, Gyu?" An inkling of hope ignited in your heart, hoping, praying that maybe he saw you in a different light now.
Beomgyu became defensive, furrowing his eyebrows and pouting. "I'm not jealous!" His voice turned quiet this time, as if he was whispering to the side. "Why would I be jealous?"
You grinned, motioning him to continue his thought process. "I don't know! You tell me!"
Beomgyu sighed, no longer able to fight the battle in his head of whether he should tell you or not. His deep brown eyes, now desperate and searching for yours, told you everything that you needed to know, alongside his faltering, weak voice.
"Because I only want you. Only you. Why can't you see that? I've always wanted you, but you never saw it."
You smiled, feeling adrenaline and excitement rush to your heart. You gently cupped Beomgyu's face in an attempt to bring him closer, his eyes widening as he tried to comprehend what was happening...
That night Beomgyu ended up with way too many kisses that made him super smitten. Yeonjun was incredibly confused when he came back to the studio, seeing Beomgyu in a heap of smiles and imaginary hearts floating beside him, alongside you who kept giggling every couple of seconds seeing your now boyfriend in such weak behavior.
Yes, Beomgyu has always wanted you. But now, he's got you and there was no need for him to be jealous anymore, knowing that you loved him too.
released: August 17, 2024 (12:20am CT)
thoughts: it's been 28 days since i've posted so i decided to hustle and work on anything that came to mind. the ending is abrupt, so i apologizeeee, this was super sweet though, i was kicking my feet while writing teehee
tags:
#txt fluff#txt angst#txt reactions#txt scenarios#txt imagines#txt ff#Beomgyu fluff#Beomgyu angst#Beomgyu x reader#Beomgyu fic#Beomgyu ff#beomgyu scenarios#Beomgyu imagines
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Tbh the show did soften up Daemon a lot. Where is my lord of flea bottom who deflowers maidens as his hobby. Also hot take but I don’t understand why GRRM loves him so much. I love morally dubious male characters but Daemon just seems…lame
hotd writers have clearly narrowed in on the correct and interesting adaptational choice that someone with Daemon’s reputation who does the things he does in fire and blood are usually performing coolness while actually being unhappy directionless losers. People who have no real equal friends and only hang out with people they have direct power over and can’t form relationships with women their own age and only groom teenagers are at their core pathetic and kind of impotent.
Loved their commitment to not letting Daemon look cool for longer than 5 minutes in season 2 before reminding you that oh yeah he destroys everything he touches, he is unstable and violent and cannot help himself, he’s a misogynist, and despite family being his most important value he has he seemingly has no stable relationships with any of them, just a combination of incest negligence and violence. And his dick doesn’t work.
It makes him a much more interesting character to me than if he was just like Hot Morally Grey Cool Guy. I wish they would’ve committed even more to it but I guess the marketing team would’ve been mad to lose out the Matt smith money from people who don’t want to see him portraying kind of a loser even if they’re giving him the juiciest most intense work in the season by far.
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alright, here it is: part 3 of the still untitled Room Fic! and boy is it long... this might be as long as parts 1 and 2 put together.
Content warnings for this part: vomit, serious discussion of food issues, internalized ableism, everyone being a little bit dumb
I am not a doctor and my meal plan for Leo is extremely lightly researched (mainly because it's hard to find information that would be helpful in Leo's situation but that isn't highly technical). in the end I went with what I like from a narrative standpoint. if someone starves as long as Leo did please get them to an actual doctor lol.
also I got tired and didn't proofread the last few sections.
just a warning that I'm going on vacation next week and will be out of the country for awhile so don't expect any more for this for quite some time. in the meantime, hope you enjoy this!
and if you're confused, start here!
-----
Leo wakes up.
The room is moving. His head is cradled in someone's lap. There's a furry hand stroking his arm, and a voice hums the notes of a lullaby he hasn't heard since he was a child.
-----
Leo wakes up.
He's lying somewhere soft and blessedly warm. There's a weight across his chest. Someone is chattering in his ear, happy and upbeat, saying something to him about Jupiter Jim on the desert planet Delta-5.
-----
Leo wakes up.
He's still somewhere soft but now it's too hot. He whines and pushes at the things on his chest. Near his ear someone tuts, and then a hand lands on his, giving it a squeeze.
"Nardo, you need to warm up. Don't-"
-----
Leo wakes up, and his eyes open.
"Leo?" comes Raph's voice. Leo blinks to clear his vision, then lets his eyes trail up, to find his big brother bending over him. "You awake for real this time?"
He isn't sure. Raph being here sure feels like a dream.
He lowers his eyes and looks around. He's not home. He doesn't recognize this place at all, actually. But the walls are beige (still unstimulating, but at least not white), the furniture is dark brown, the bed (not a cot) has a blue bedspread, the empty takeout containers on the table have a splash of red. It's not home, but it's not the room, either.
If he were going to dream, surely he'd just picture himself back home.
He blinks back up at Raph, and smiles.
"Wide awake," he says, echoing Raph from before.
Raph bursts into tears, immediately leaning down and wrapping Leo up in one of his signature hugs. For the first time in so many days (longer, longer, Leo can't remember the last time he got a Raph hug like this), Leo feels completely secure, fully enveloped in love and affection, held safe by his big brother where no one can hurt him.
The difference between this moment and the last week and a half is so stark it leaves Leo feeling dizzy. Like he hadn't even realized how scared and lonely and helpless he truly felt until all that pain was taken away. He's safe now. He's okay now. Raph is hugging him.
Leo hates crying in front of people, but even he can't be stoic for this.
"Oh Leo," says Raph softly once he realizes. "It's okay. We got'cha."
Leo sniffs, burying his face in Raph's plastron. He wishes he could hug back, but his limbs feel so heavy, like Donnie swapped them out for metal versions when he wasn't looking. So he can't hug back, but he leans in close and hopes that's enough.
They get about a minute to hug before Mikey is worming his way in between them, wriggling to push his arms past Raph's and around Leo for himself. "No fair, you got to hold him earlier!" Mikey declares, his voice thick with tears.
"You got to hug him earlier," Raph argues.
"He was asleep, it doesn't count!" Mikey hits back, and Leo laughs and shifts so Mikey can better get in the middle. Raph sighs exaggeratedly, but he gives Leo a pat and leans back to let Mikey in.
Mikey hugs even tighter than Raph, nuzzling in against Leo's shoulder. "I missed you," he says, then gives a choked sob he tries to bury.
"Missed you too," Leo promises, craning his neck so he can land a big smooch on Mikey's head. That replaces the sobs with relieved giggles that leave Leo feeling so much lighter.
After another minute, Mikey moves back and looks over at Donnie, who's been standing at the side of the bed wringing his hands. "Your turn, Donald."
Donnie makes a grumpy noise at having been perceived, but when Leo gets a look at his face he sees Donnie has tears shimmering in his eyes, too. They break free once Donnie's arms are around him, trickling onto the skin of Leo's shoulder.
"Crying over me, Don-ton?" he teases, even as his own voice is thick with emotion.
"Shut up, Nardo," Donnie snaps back, but his voice cracks at the end and he holds on even tighter.
"Alright, my turn," says April once Donnie starts to loosen his grip, and Donnie obligingly crawls off the bed, swiping at his eyes. Like he's looking for something to busy himself with, he starts throwing away the takeout containers on the table. They must be empty.
Leo tears his eyes away just as April swoops in to wrap him up in his fourth hug of the hour, giving him a kiss on his forehead as she does. "Hey, Leo. How're you feelin'?"
"Happy to see you," he says again, and she squeezes him tighter. "Kinda hot."
"That's the hypothermia talking," says Donnie. April shushes him.
"Hypothermia?" Leo asks. April pulls back so she can see his face.
"It wasn't that bad," she says quickly. "You'd started brumating, we think... Tromping around in the snow didn't help, though."
"Not to mention you used up the last of your energy portaling us out of there," Mikey chimes in. "It was really cool though!"
Leo laughs. "Thanks, little brother." Even with the containers thrown away, the smell of the takeout is thick in the room. Leo guesses they had Japanese. It can't have been that long ago. "Where are we?"
"Motel room about two hours down the road." April slides to sit next to him, keeping one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Her body heat is warm in a more pleasant way than the blankets, and he leans into it. "We wanted to go further, but we needed to get you warmed up."
"A motel...? Huh." Leo looks around again. This is his first time being in a hotel that isn't owned by Big Mama. He wonders how far it is from the Japanese place. Just, like, average delivery time. "What happened? It's... kind of a blur for me." He laughs.
They launch into the story without any more prompting. It all sounds like what Leo expected. Raph led the team. Donnie did science stuff. Mikey razzed his tazz. April used her investigative skills.
They tracked him all the way down to Colorado (that explains the snow) and broke him out. They floored it away from the EPF, got far enough they felt safe, then booked into a motel under April's name. That's where they've been since. Splinter and Draxum are out now, patrolling to make sure they weren't followed or discovered.
It's quite the story. And Leo knows he should be paying more attention than he is.
It's just, the takeout boxes. The smell coming from them is so strong, or maybe Leo is just abnormally sensitive to it. He thinks someone had steak, and someone else had fish. The fried rice had egg in it. His mouth is watering so badly he has to swallow every few seconds.
"Leo?" calls Mikey, and Leo startles, ripping his eyes from the trash can to look at Mikey's face. He's gripping the bedspread so hard his knuckles are cramping. He realizes this is not the first time Mikey said his name. Great, now they know he wasn't paying attention.
"Ah, sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to zone out." He flashes them all the biggest smile he can, so they don't worry. "I was just, uh..."
He trails off, not sure of a way to say that he was completely distracted by the smell of their already eaten Japanese food without making it awkward.
"Sorry, Leo, we know you're tired," says Raph, reaching over and rubbing his head. "You can go back to sleep. We're not leaving for awhile."
Go back to sleep? Leo doubts he can, what with the hunger an empty yawning hole inside him. It had been muted while the cold and the exhaustion took over, but now that he's warmer and more rested his body is very painfully reminding him he still has another problem.
He's trying to come up with a casual way to approach the subject when his stomach does it for him, gurgling and growling loud enough that everyone hears it. Leo is very glad his blushes don't show up as easily as humans' do.
"Uh... heh heh." He scratches at his own cheek, then stops when he feels how disturbingly hollowed out it is. "Before that... are there any leftovers?"
Everyone's staring at him. Leo's too tired to puzzle out why they're all staring at him. Maybe there really aren't any leftovers? He did just watch Donnie throw everything away. Maybe there were some, but now they'd have to fish it out of the trash. Leo wants to say he'd happily eat it out of the trash, but that would be really weird and they'd stare at him even more.
(But he would eat it out of the trash. He may be too proud to say it out loud, but he can admit it to himself.)
"O-or," he says quickly, to fill the silence after his last question, "if... if it's not too much trouble, can you ask Dad and Barry to bring something with them when they come back? Even if it's just something from a gas station, or..." They're still staring, and Leo feels himself starting to ramble desperately, "Or if it's too late, I can just... I can just go back to sleep, hah, but... but can someone at least wake me up so I don't miss breakfast?"
His family stutters back to life at that. Raph gives a furious shake of his head and says, "Forget breakfast," which makes Leo's heart and stomach lurch painfully. Waiting until lunch? That feels like forever away.
But then Raph continues with, "Leo, why didn't you tell us you're hungry right now?"
Leo falters. "Uh... just... didn't want to interrupt the flow of the conversation," he says, which is true, but the way everyone is looking at him now, he's pretty sure it's the wrong answer.
"Please," says April, tone very close to exasperated, "interrupt the conversation."
"Will do," says Leo. But he's still not sure what to do, because no one has told him when food is coming.
(You want this? You beg for it.)
Before he can spin out on that thought, Mikey jumps off the bed and heads for the mini-fridge that Leo hadn't noticed until now. He yanks open the door and pulls out two takeout containers, a box and a cylindrical container.
"We weren't sure what you felt up to, so we got you steak hibachi and miso soup," Mikey says, waving each container in turn.
The thought of having to actually chew and swallow sounds exhausting, so Leo says, "Soup's fine." And then, just in case, he adds hastily, "Please."
"Okay," says Mikey, and even though he's clearly trying to sound upbeat, Leo can hear the strain in his voice. "Just give me a minute to heat it up for you!"
Leo would eat it cold. Leo would eat it frozen. But he bites that back and waits.
Mikey puts it in the microwave on top of the fridge. Every little tick down on the timer feels like it takes three eternities. The rest of his family seems to feel the tension as much as he does.
"April!" says Donnie abruptly, too loud to be natural. "You wanted to see what's on the sci-fi channel!"
"Thaaat's right!" she says, also a little too loudly. "I did. Hand me the remote."
Donnie gives her the remote. She turns on the TV just as the microwave dings.
Mikey yanks the door open as soon as it does, pulling the bowl out with no regard for how hot it is. He gives it a perfunctory blow to cool it down, then hurries over to the bed, pausing only to grab a plastic spoon off a little pile of utensils on the table.
He hands both the bowl and spoon to Leo, but Leo already knows his arms won't be able to maneuver the spoon, so he lets it fall into his lap, in favor of lifting the entire container to his lips. He hopes he doesn't look too pathetically eager as he tilts it back and takes his first sip.
It's good.
It's so good he starts crying.
It's not even the best miso soup he's ever had. In fact, it's a little too oily and nowhere near as good as the kind his dad makes, or what Mikey is capable of. But it doesn't matter. It wouldn't matter if this was the worst soup in the world, because right now it's the best thing Leo has ever tasted.
He may be crying more over this than he did over hugs from his family. Maybe he'll have it in him to feel bad for that later.
The TV is showing some old monster movie. His siblings pretend they're watching that and not watching him. He appreciates that, because it makes him feel less self-conscious as he desperately slurps down the soup, practically guzzling it, only pausing when he has to chew the greens here and there.
He eats until his stomach is full and warm. And then he keeps going. There's still soup left, and stopping feels impossible.
(Besides, no one actually promised him breakfast.)
"Hey, maybe you should slow down," says Donnie. Leo pauses, looking up at him, licking the remains of soup off his lips. The container is still about a third full.
Maybe Donnie is right. His stomach is actually starting to cramp. But... but...
He doesn't know what his face looks like right now. But something about it makes Donnie look sad.
He turns away, rubbing right between his fake eyebrows. "Okay, okay. Just... don't overdo it."
Leo sighs, grateful the soup isn't being taken away. He goes back to drinking it, feeling like the chasm inside him is finally beginning to fill.
-----
The next time Leo wakes up, it's because he has to puke. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to communicate that before it's all over himself and the bedsheets.
"Whoa, Leo-" someone says, and then there's a flurry of activity around him. He can't keep up with who goes where and who says what. It's a lot to keep track of when he just woke up and is spewing half-digested miso soup and stomach bile.
"There we go... You're alright, Blue, you're alright," he hears once he comes back to his senses, and he blinks and looks over. His dad is standing on the bed next to him, and he leans in with a damp washcloth and wipes at Leo's face and mouth.
"Perhaps the soup was too much for your stomach," Splinter says as he finishes, tossing the washcloth into the floor. "How do you feel?"
"Mm... weird," Leo admits, leaning sleepily into his dad's shoulder. He shouldn't because he's gross, but Splinter lets him do it, stroking his cheek. "My stomach hurts..."
The loss of the food hurts; without anything in his stomach, he'll feel hungry again soon. Leo is terrified of that, of the deep empty chasm of his hunger returning, sucking him down into its depths. At the same time, the idea of eating makes him feel queasy.
He feels weird, and miserable, and scared, and he doesn't know when his dad came back, but he's so glad he's here.
"How much did you let him eat?" he hears Draxum ask. Leo finds the energy to feel offended that he's being talked about like he isn't in the room, but not enough energy to actually say anything about it.
"As much as he wanted," Mikey answers. Which, as Leo recalls, was almost all of the soup.
"And how much was that?"
"Here, look."
There's the sound of the mini-fridge being opened again. The pop of the takeout lid. Draxum hums in a way that does not sound pleased.
"Leonardo," he says, coming to stand by the bed now. "I have a very important question and I need you to answer: when was the last time you ate?"
Leo stares at him blearily. Then he raises a tired hand and indicates the mess all down his front.
"Don't get cute," says Draxum, ignoring the following grunt of warning Splinter directs his way. "You know what I'm asking you."
Of course Leo knows. But he doesn't want to answer. Not while his dad is holding him, and all his siblings are watching him expectantly. They aren't going to like what he has to tell them. He doesn't want to upset them.
But Draxum is unmoved and steely eyed. There's no way Leo is getting out of this without answering.
He sighs, shutting his eyes and leaning into Splinter so he doesn't have to be looking at the rest of them when he says it.
"Last time I ate was at Run of the Mill."
He hears a gasp, hears Mikey yell, "What!?" Feels Splinter's sharp intake of breath under his cheek, and then his dad shifts so he can hold him even closer.
"They... they didn't feed you in there at all?" asks April, like she doesn't quite believe it.
Leo nods.
"I should have leveled the whole building!" Donnie snaps, and Leo hears something get knocked to the ground.
Mikey comes closer, and puts a hand on his shoulder, drawing Leo's gaze back his way. He looks so upset, and Leo regrets looking. "Leo, why didn't you tell us? You didn't even say you were hungry!"
"Felt weird to bring it up in the middle of the happy reunion," he says. It's a weak justification, he knows. The look on Mikey's face just gets more miserable.
"Wait," Raph cuts in. "Wait, so... when Bishop said he gave you chances to cooperate for better living conditions, he meant..."
Leo swallows hard, not wanting to look at the distress on Raph's face. "Feeding me, yeah."
"What did he want out of you? What was he making you do?"
This part, at least, Leo can answer easily. "He wanted information. About the yokai and the Hidden City."
Raph sounds surprised. "He just... wanted you to answer questions?"
"Yeah." Leo nods again. "Like, how to get in, how many portals there are, what kind of defense capabilities there are, stuff about Draxum... That's what I remember."
"Why didn't you just tell them?"
Now Leo does look at Raph's face. He's staring at Leo with open horror and distress. But Leo doesn't understand the question, or the look. He did what he was supposed to, didn't he? He held out and didn't give Bishop any information. He did the right thing. So Raph has no reason to look so upset.
He smiles in a way he hopes is reassuring. "Hey, that's not what a hero would do, right?"
It's apparently not reassuring. If anything, Raph only looks more horrified.
He turns away from Leo abruptly and marches straight out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.
Leo doesn't understand that reaction. He did what he was supposed to, but Raph is mad at him, anyway. The rest of his family seems shocked, too, so at least Leo isn't alone.
"I'll talk to him," says April, the first to move. She leaves with much less noise, disappearing into the dark parking lot beyond the door.
Awkward silence envelops the room after that. Leo doesn't know what to do or say to break it. He made Raph mad, because he never does anything right, according to Raph. It's the same as always, but for some reason Leo feels even worse this time.
"...Well," says Draxum, cutting through the awkwardness when it becomes clear no one else wants to, "knowing this, we will have to be much more careful about what and how much you eat. I'll make a meal plan."
"Why you?" Leo grouses. "Let Donnie do it."
Donnie opens his mouth like he wants to agree, but Draxum cuts him off before he can.
"Me, because I have actual experience designing nutritious meal plans for children." Leo thinks of what he's heard about Draxum's lunchroom and makes a face, which Draxum ignores. "Besides, I can't trust any of the rest of you to actually tell Leo he can't have more to eat."
"I can handle myself," Leo argues.
"Clearly," says Draxum icily, indicating the mess still in Leo's lap, "you cannot."
Leo doesn't have a good response for that, and no one steps up to his defense. Back not even twenty four hours, and he already has multiple people mad at him. That has to be a new record.
"...Whatever," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. Draxum nods like he actually gave approval.
There's another round of awkward silence. Splinter breaks it this time.
"Why doesn't someone call housekeeping to ask for some fresh sheets," he says, "while I help Blue take a bath."
"Ugh, yes, I'm calling them now," says Donnie. Leo notes for the first time that his most persnickety brother is as far from his bed as possible, having put the second bed and the table between them. "The whole room is starting to smell."
Leo cringes. "Sorry..."
"There is nothing for you to apologize for," his dad reassures him, patting his head. Leo isn't sure he'd say that, but he doesn't waste breath arguing. "Now, come with me."
It takes some maneuvering, but they get him out of bed without making a bigger mess. Mikey starts stripping the sheets, and he can hear Donnie on the phone with the staff across the room.
Leo's still not wearing any of his gear. It shouldn't matter because he's just in a room with his family, but he still walks to the bathroom as quickly as he can.
Splinter shuts the door once they're inside, then fills a little plastic cup with water. This he hands off to Leo, saying, "Drink this, and I will run you a nice warm bath."
Leo does as he says, and tries not to think too much about how Raph is mad at him.
-----
There's an old concrete barrier that stands between the motel parking lot and an open field. Raph hefts a piece of the crumbling concrete and chucks it as hard as he can, watching as it disappears into the tall grass beyond.
They starved him. They starved his little brother for over a week, because he wouldn't answer some questions. And he wouldn't answer those questions because...
That's not what a hero would do.
Raph's ninpo flares to life. Punching out another piece of the barrier is easy; he lifts the broken pieces and throws them after the first, watching them sail through the air.
"You better hope there aren't any security cameras out here," says a voice behind him, and he looks over his shoulder.
April is there, standing a few feet back, hands tucked in the pockets of her jacket. Raph's ninpo stutters out at the sight of her; he wonders if he looked scary.
"...What are they gonna do even if there are?" he asks. But he does stop his wanton destruction.
"I don't know, but just remember it's my credit card on file for damages." Her voice is teasing, though, and he knows she isn't actually mad. She comes over, turning so she can lean against part of the barrier that's still intact. "Come on, Big Red. Talk to me."
Raph doesn't turn around. He can't stand to look back at the motel, at the room where his brother is, tiny and weak and with a stomach that's been empty for days on end. He can't handle it right now. So he keeps his eyes on the field.
"Leo let those guys hurt him," he says.
"No he didn't," says April. "He can't help what they did to him."
"If he'd just answered their questions, they would have fed him."
"We can't know that." April shakes her head. "You heard what Draxum said about those guys. You saw what they were like. Maybe if Leo had answered their questions, they would have just killed him. Leo was probably thinking that, too."
"But that's not what he said," Raph points out.
"...Look." April takes a deep breath. "Leo... just went through a lot. We don't know what he was thinking while he was in there, or what he's thinking now. And you know that boy likes to say flashy things. Don't take anything he says right now too seriously."
"But what if this is the most truthful he's gonna be? What if he just hasn't thought of a good lie yet?"
"Raph-"
"No, you don't get it, April." Raph holds his head in his hands, like he can physically hold the dark thoughts at bay, but he can't, and they keep coming: horrific images of what could have happened, if they'd been too late, if the EPF had been less patient. "I told him to stop thinking of himself! Right before he disappeared, I told him he needed to be a hero! But Raph didn't mean like this!"
"Hey now, you don't know-" April tries, but Raph cuts her off.
"I just wanted him to stop doing everything himself! All the showboating, all the running in without talkin' to us... Raph just wanted him to remember that we're a team!" He lets go of his head and grips the concrete instead, so hard it cracks and crumbles under his fingers. "What if he took that to mean he should risk his life for everyone else? That he had to sacrifice himself?"
"Oookay, slow down there, big guy," says April, turning around and putting a hand on his arm. "You're taking one thing he said and blowing it way out of proportion."
"But what if I'm right?" Raph shakes his head. "How do I live with that, if I am? Knowing I almost killed him?"
"Okay, you look at me right now," she demands, in a way Raph can't refuse. He turns, and she reaches up and grabs his face by the cheeks, yanking him down until he bends to her eye level.
"You did not almost kill him. That was those EPF guys." Her voice is stern, and her grip on his face prevents him from objecting. "And even if you are right, and it's what you said to Leo that kept him from answering... well, then that's something the two of you will have to work out together."
She lets him go, putting her hands on her hips. "But what's done is done. Right now, Leo is exhausted and starved, and he's not really in a state for big emotional talks. So let's just get some space and get your head on straight. Once we get him home and everything's calmed down, the two of you can hash this out."
Raph lets out a strangled laugh, slumping down against the crumbling barrier. "Yeah, because that's so easy."
"I'm not saying it's easy." She sits down next to him, putting her hand on his arm. "But you guys love each other, so you'll do the hard things you have to do. I know you got this." She gives him a wink. "You're Raph."
Raph isn't sure he has that much faith in himself. But April isn't wrong very often, so he thinks he should probably listen to her.
-----
The water feels nice on Leo's skin, pleasantly warm and soothing. He sinks down until all but his eyes are in the water, letting it swirl around him.
He still feels a little exposed, but it's only Splinter in here, and that helps. It's like he's a little kid again, getting a bath from his dad, but he has to scrunch to cram his legs in the tub and that ruins the illusion.
"My Baby Blue always did enjoy a nice bath," says Splinter fondly, rustling up hotel soap for them to use.
He wets a washcloth and lathers it up, then cleans off the top of Leo's head and back of his neck, then down to his shoulders and the ridge of his shell. Leo would normally protest this kind of treatment, but right now he's not sure he can lift his arms above his head, so he doesn't.
Besides, it feels nice.
"Float on your front," Splinter says, adding, "Deep breath." It's what he always said when they were kids and he wanted to wash their shells. Everyone but Mikey can hold their breath for a long time, but he always says it anyway.
Leo takes a deep breath and flips onto his front, closing his eyes as his dad washes the back of his shell. It's so soothing he could almost take a nap here. The world is nicely muted under the water.
Splinter gives his shell three pats with his hand, the signal to sit back up. Leo does, rolling onto his back to rinse off. Splinter hands him the washcloth and soap, and he cleans his lower half, taking care around the bottom ridges of his shell.
"Thanks for the bath, Daddio," he says as he finishes. "I know I was starting to get pretty ripe." He pulls up the drain plug with a pop, watching the dirty water spin away.
He tries to imagine he's watching the last of that place drain away with it.
Splinter retrieves a fluffy white towel, drying off the top of Leo's head before handing it off. "I wasn't thinking of that," he says. "But I know a good bath always made you feel better when you were sick."
It was never really about the bath, but the undivided dad attention. How Splinter would wash his shell and pat his head and dry him off, just like he's doing now.
It occurs to Leo that he almost lost this forever, and its like his breath is taken away. He buries his face in the towel and tries to ride through it - he doesn't want to cry again.
Splinter must pick up on it, because suddenly he's sitting on the side of the tub, rubbing the top of Leo's shell. "It's okay, Blue. You're safe."
He's safe.
He really is safe, isn't he?
He lowers the towel and turns into his dad instead, wriggling his head into his lap. Splinter welcomes him, patting his head with one hand and the top of his shell with another. Leo's breath hitches and the tears break free.
"I know," says Splinter, and his voice is thick with emotion. Leo knows he can't look or he'll start sobbing. "I... was very scared for you, my son. I am so glad you're here, Leonardo. I love you very much."
"L-love you too," he warbles. His tears are falling fast, now, and Splinter takes the towel and dries them away every now and then.
By the time Leo sits up and rubs at his eyes, the towel is totally soaked through from being in the tub. Splinter moves away to grab him a fresh one, which Leo wraps himself up in.
"Leonardo," says Splinter hesitantly once he is out of the tub, "I know you may not want to talk about it right now. But I need to ask you this."
Leo wonders where this is going. He sits down on the toilet lid, looking at his dad. "Uh, okay."
Splinter looks him up and down before asking, "Did those men... hit you? Or touch you in any way?"
Oh. Leo shakes his head. "No. They didn't... I mean, they just put me in that room. They weren't, like... torturing me or anything."
He thought that would reassure his dad, but if anything Splinter only looks more sad.
"Not feeding you is torturing you," he says.
"Oh, well, yeah, I guess." Leo rubs the back of his head. "But I mean, they weren't... you know. Shocking me or whipping me or... putting me in that medieval stretchy thing from the movies."
"I see." His dad sighs, but nods. "Very well. I'm glad, at least, that you do not have any injuries."
Leo nods back. "Yeah, no, I'm all good." He tries to smile, but his smiles aren't really having the effect they usually do.
"Are you ready to go back?" asks Splinter, moving to the door. Leo nods again, standing up. "Are you still cold?"
Leo blinks in surprise, then realizes Splinter is referring to the towel he still has wrapped around himself. He's not really that cold anymore, but he grabs onto the convenient excuse, anyway.
"Uh, yeah." He grins sheepishly. "Actually, did you guys bring any of my clothes? I'm a little worried about the ride home."
"Ah." Splinter taps his chin. "I don't think we brought any of your things. Your brothers brought their hoodies, I believe, in case they needed to go in a store..." He reaches up and pats Leo's hand. "There is a gift shop in the motel lobby. I will send Purple and Orange in the morning - I'm sure they'd enjoy doing some shopping!"
"Thanks. I just need a sweatshirt or something. Maybe some pajama pants." He shrugs. "Gotta stay toasty, right?"
"That's right. No more turtle-cicles." Splinter reaches up and turns the doorknob, gesturing for Leo to lead the way.
Leo shuffles for the bed, keeping the towel tight around himself as he goes. He doesn't drop it until he's under the sheets again, safely tucked away.
Raph isn't back yet. The realization turns Leo's stomach. But Mikey barrels into bed next to him, cuddling up against one side, while Donnie scoots in on the other, tapping away at his phone, and Leo tries to forget about it.
He's sure that, as soon as he's better, Raph will be back to yell at him.
-----
Leo doesn't realize Draxum left until he comes back. He did doze off for a bit there, though, so it's not surprising.
Mikey was snoozing against Leo's arm, too, but when the door clicks shut he raises his head, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Donnie looks up from his phone. Splinter's asleep in the other bed, only grumbling incoherently at the noise before rolling over.
(Raph and April still haven't come back. It makes Leo's heart thud a little harder.)
"Hey Barry," says Mikey, voice still a little sleepy. He pushes himself up to sit against the pillows. "Find what you were looking for?"
"Yes." Draxum walks over to the bed, pulling a bottle out of a pharmacy bag. He twists the cap loose, then holds it out and says, "Leonardo, drink this."
Leo can't help the way his face screws up as he takes it, eyeing the label on the bottle. "Eugh. What is this?"
"Vegetable juice," Draxum informs him dryly.
"Gross." Leo does not bring the bottle any closer to his lips. "Can I have soda instead?"
"Absolutely not." Draxum's voice is stern. "No sugar or caffeine until I say otherwise."
The next several days are looking worse and worse. Leo grimaces. "Can I just drink water, then?"
"You can and should drink water. But you also need to steadily reintroduce your body to nutrients. The vegetable juice will help, until your stomach can handle more solid food at a time."
Leo groans, eyeing the bottle warily. Anything labeled "juice" should not be this color of red-orange.
"Draxum's just trying to help, Leo!" Mikey chimes in. "Besides, vegetable juice isn't that bad."
It's not the most reassuring endorsement, given that Mikey loves vegetables in a way Leo has never understood. But with his little brother cheering him on, he can't back down.
"Fine. Down the hatch," he mutters, then takes a swig. It tastes just as off-putting as he was imagining, and he shudders and smacks his lips. "Yuck."
"Sorry, Leo." Mikey pats his arm comfortingly. "As soon as Barry says it's okay, we'll get pizza!"
"Please don't remind me of pizza right now..."
"Here." Leo looks up to find Draxum is holding out a handful of crackers. "Eat these, too. Be sure you chew them thoroughly before you swallow. And keep drinking the juice."
Leo takes the crackers in his free hand, putting them in his lap on top of the sheets. There's only six, and they look boring even for crackers. but his stomach perks up with interest, reminding Leo that everything he put in it before got thrown up.
Leo thought he was going to be waiting until breakfast to eat again. The crackers ease that tension, relief he hadn't consciously realized he needed.
Still, can't let Draxum think Leo actually appreciates all his bullying, so Leo still makes a face as he holds up one of the crackers and examines it.
"And these are...?"
"Are you going to react like this to everything?" asks Draxum with a scoff. "They're whole wheat crackers. They'll settle your stomach, and you need food in you so can take these vitamins."
He pulls a bottle out of his bag and shakes it, filling the room with the sound of pills rattling around. Leo scrunches up his snout.
"You didn't get me the chewable kind? Or those fruit gummy ones?"
"Are you such a child you need your medicine in the form of candy?" Draxum rolls his eyes. "You will be just fine with the pills."
"Okay, okay!" Leo groans theatrically, leaning his head back. "I can't believe you guys are letting him take care of him. He'll be feeding me bugs and leaves next."
"Stop whining. No one wants to hear it this late."
"I actually like these crackers," says Donnie. "They're delightfully bland."
This statement is followed by a crunch.
The sound sends a shiver up Leo's shell, and he turns his head in time to see Donnie, one of Leo's crackers in his hand, a big bite taken out of it. He chews and swallows with a slight smile on his face, clearly unconcerned that he just took one of Leo's crackers.
Leo only had six crackers to start. Now there's five. He doesn't know when he gets any more. No one promised him breakfast. And now he only has five crackers, and not six. And he can feel the hunger coming back.
Donnie turns his head and they lock eyes. Leo has no idea what his own expression looks like, but Donnie's turns startled and then almost frightened. He's so shocked he drops the rest of the cracker into his own lap.
Leo just barely stops himself from snatching it back.
Because that would be weird. What he's doing right now is weird. Everyone is staring at him, the room has gone silent, he's acting like Donnie just committed an unforgivable sin when all he did was take a cracker, like the two of them haven't been casually taking each other's food their entire lives.
He's being weird. He needs to stop. He needs to go back to normal right now.
Five crackers can be enough. It's enough it's enough it's-
Leo forces his brain to restart, his face and posture to relax, his fingers to unclench. He schools his mouth into an unserious grin, glancing back at Draxum. "H-hey, so... how many crackers do I need to eat? Since Thief-atello just stole one."
"I'm sorry," Donnie blurts out, an extremely rare apology. "I wasn't thinking."
Leo waves a hand. "It's cool, man," he says.
"No," Donnie insists. "I shouldn't have done that, I don't know why I did that-"
Great, first he pisses off Raph and now Donnie's freaked out. Leo's family came all the way to Colorado to save him and all he's done since then is upset them.
"Dee," says Leo, and he knocks one shoulder against Donnie's. "Seriously. It's fine."
Because it is. They take food from each other all the time. Leo's the one who made it weird, not Donnie, even if he did take one of Leo's crackers.
Donnie looks at him, uncertain. He still hasn't touched the remaining cracker in his lap. Leo wishes he would finish eating it now, so it isn't tempting him.
"...Still. I won't do it again," says Donnie finally, looking down at his lap and wringing his hands. He looks miserable, and Leo hates that he caused this.
Before he can do or say anything more, Draxum gets Leo's attention by holding out a new cracker. "Here," he says, waiting until Leo takes it, before handing a few to the still shell-shocked Donnie. "Both of you can have crackers. Now don't squabble, you'll disturb the neighbors."
Donnie puts the crackers in his lap and doesn't touch them again. The air in the room is stifling. And Leo wants to eat his own crackers, but now it feels awkward.
"I think you should steal one of his to get him back," says Mikey in an exaggerated whisper, a gallant attempt to dispel the tension. It doesn't quite work, but it breaks the silence enough for Leo to force out a chuckle and pick up a cracker.
"Everyone eat what you've been given and settle down," says Draxum, going to sit on the other bed. Splinter mumbles in his sleep again and rolls over. Everyone relaxes a little more.
Leo bites into the cracker. It tastes like all of nothing, but it has a pleasant crunch between his teeth, and he finds that he likes it.
Next to him, Donnie hesitantly finishes off his own half-finished cracker. Then he half-heartedly eats the others. Leo drinks his vegetable juice, then swallows the pill Draxum gives him.
Mikey does his best to fill the room with happy chatter, and the mood lightens, little by little.
Everything's okay. He just can't do that again.
-----
Everyone but Draxum is asleep when Raph and April come back into the room, just a little before dawn. Splinter is splayed out across the bed closest to the door, while all three of his little brothers are curled around each other in the bed by the bathroom.
Raph and April spent a long time sitting by the barrier, talking intermittently between long spells of silence. Then they moved to the tank, taking a nap together on the bench seats.
April has her travel pillow and blanket now, and she takes both and spreads out at the foot of his brothers’ bed, wisely putting her head by Donnie, who sleeps still as the dead, and not Mikey, who has already moved several times since they walked in. She yawns and then conks out almost immediately, glasses held loosely in her hand against her chest.
Raph wishes he didn’t feel quite so wide awake.
Draxum is sitting in one of the chairs by the table, phone in hand. He has a notebook open and scribbles into it with a pen. Raph comes over and takes a peek: it’s all notes about nutrition, the vitamins that are most critically needed after a long term starvation event.
Draxum’s helping Leo. That makes Raph feel better, and he sinks into the other chair, leaning his head back.
“You should try to get some sleep,” says Draxum, voice low. “We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”
“Raph’s good,” he says, staying where he is.
He feels Draxum’s eyes on him, for a moment. “I’m taking watch. Go to sleep, Raphael.”
Raph hesitates, then gets up from the chair and goes to lay down next to his dad. Splinter grumbles in his sleep, but rolls over like he knows to make room for a son crawling into his bed.
From here Raph can see Leo’s face. It’s gaunt and washed out, and even with all the sleeping he’s done there are still dark circles under his eyes. He looks so fragile, and the anger burns in his chest again, that anyone could hurt him like this.
He’s safe now, though. Mikey has an arm curled around his plastron, and Donnie flanks his other side like a guard. He’s able to rest, and eat, and get better.
Raph remembers what April said. Give Leo time to heal, then talk about what happened in there. He can do that. He can be patient.
He hadn’t thought he would be able to sleep, but lying still, with his sleeping family all around him, safe and sound, puts him under in minutes.
-----
"Morning, Leo!"
Leo blinks awake, taking in his surroundings. The walls are beige, the bed is blue, there's a TV playing the morning news on low volume, there's sunlight shining through the window.
He can smell food.
"It's breakfast time!" says Mikey. He's standing next to the bed, holding a tray. Leo wriggles until he's sitting up against the pillows, grinning as he pats his lap.
"Thanks, Mikey."
"You're welcome!" Mikey gives Leo a thousand watt smile as he sets the tray down.
Leo wishes he could feel as enthusiastic as his little brother as he gets a look at his breakfast. There's a large cup of white yogurt, and a little plate of scrambled eggs that don't even look like they have pepper on them. He's glad he has food, he just wishes it was something more exciting.
He lifts his eyes and takes a look around the room. Donnie is in one of the chairs by the table, tapping away on his phone. April is in the other chair, and she smiles and gives him a little wave when he meets her eyes. His dad is in the other bed, munching on what looks like a muffin and watching the news. He doesn't see Raph, but he hears the shower running.
Draxum is standing by the doorway, watching Leo. When their gazes meet, he sighs, rubbing the furrow on his forehead.
"Are you going to ask me what you're eating again?"
"Yes!" Leo points at the cup of yogurt. "What is this!? It's not even fruit flavored!"
"It's Greek yogurt. You can have fruit when your stomach is more settled."
"Ugh..." Leo sighs, grabbing the plastic spoon off his tray and scooping up a tiny bite of yogurt. It's not terrible, but without any fruit it's not very exciting.
"Hey, look at the bright side," says Mikey, holding out a plastic cup. "You get apple juice this morning! Since it had no sugar added, Draxum said it's okay!"
Leo musters up a smile. "Well, it's better than vegetable juice..."
"Don't get too excited," says Draxum dryly. "You'll be drinking more on the drive home."
"You're such a buzzkill, Drax," Leo huffs, taking a bite of his eggs now. They're unseasoned, but they're something. And there's the part of him that is just happy to have any food, simmering under the surface and demanding he eat faster. To keep himself from cramming the whole of the plate in his mouth at once, he turns to Mikey. "Hey, sneak me a muffin. Blueberry or chocolate chip."
Mikey grimaces. "I don't think Barry wants me to do that..."
Leo pouts, chewing his eggs slowly. "Who are you going to listen to, him or me?"
"He'll listen to me," says Draxum sternly. "If you're still hungry after that, you can have some more crackers."
Leo sighs, but part of him feels better knowing the crackers are still on the table. He crams more eggs in his mouth and chews as sulkily as possible.
There's an Old Navy ad playing on TV. Splinter sits up straighter in bed when he sees it, getting muffin crumbs everywhere. "Ah, that reminds me! Blue wanted some warm clothes to wear on the ride home." Splinter reaches out and pats Mikey on the arm. "Orange, Purple - why don't the two of you go to the gift shop and do some shopping? You can get a souvenir for yourselves as well."
"Oooh, yes!" Mikey bounces excitedly in place. "Dibs on picking out Leo's clothes!"
"Gasp!" Donnie stands up, pointing at him dramatically. "You know I'm the fashionable one in this family! Leo, tell him you want me to pick out your clothes for our return trip!"
"Mmm, I dunno..." Leo grins up at his little brother, giving him a wink. "I think Angelo's got this."
Donnie makes a noise of utter betrayal while Mikey cheers and stoops to give Leo a hug. "I won't let you down, Leon!" he promises, giving Leo a big smooch on the top of his head.
"I know you won't."
"Fine then! I'll just have to make you all jealous with my own selections." Donnie looks down. "April, do you want to join us?"
"Yeah, sure." April stands up, stretching her arms above her head. "Maybe I'll get a keychain or something."
The three of them file out of the room, Donnie and Mikey still arguing animatedly. Draxum takes one of the abandoned chairs, and Splinter goes back to watching the news.
Leo continues eating his bland breakfast, and tries not to spend too much time wondering when his next meal will be. At least he's been promised crackers.
-----
Raph comes out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, just as Leo's finishing up his breakfast with a few crackers. He nearly jumps when their eyes meet.
"Oh, hey, Leo," he says, voice a forced cheerful. "You're awake! That's great!"
"Yeah," says Leo back, trying not to sound too awkward and failing. He holds up his empty cup. "Just finished breakfast."
"O-oh, yeah. Was it... good?"
Leo grimaces. "Not really."
"Oh." Raph hovers in the doorway, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Leo wonders if he should apologize, but he still doesn't know what he's apologizing for, so he doesn't.
He'd know if Raph would just go ahead and yell at him, but Raph doesn't seem eager to start. Maybe he doesn't think Leo is healed up enough yet, or maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of Splinter. Either way, no yelling seems forthcoming.
Instead, Raph says, "Uh, where's everyone else?"
"Shopping for clothes for Blue and for souvenirs for themselves," Splinter answers.
"Oh, cool. Maybe... maybe I'll go join 'em!"
Raph pats Leo on the head as he goes by, then leaves the room like it's on fire. Leo is silent; he has no idea what to say or do.
He's out of food now, too. He's already asked Draxum for crackers once, and he's not sure if asking again will actually gain him anything. And with Mikey gone, he feels too anxious to try.
He settles back on his pillows and turns his eyes to the TV, lifting the plastic spoon in his hands. He slots the handle between his teeth and chews, relaxing at the feel of it. It's sturdier than the water bottles, so he can't flatten it down as easily, but the way he can munch on it endlessly has its own appeal.
The news drones on. His dad laughs at something the anchors say. Draxum scribbles away at a notebook. And Leo leans back on his pillows and chews on the spoon.
On the ticker at the bottom of the screen, he notices the tail end of a news item about a training accident at a military facility in Colorado Springs - one injured.
-----
The outfit Mikey has picked out is a sky blue hoodie with "PIKE'S PEAK" in big block letters and darker blue plaid sweatpants. They meet Leo's standards for softness and comfiness, if not quite his standards for style. It's fine, because he's after the former right now.
"Did I do good?" Mikey asks, bouncing on his toes.
"You did great," Leo responds, motioning him closer so he can rub his head affectionately. It lacks his usual punch, but Mikey laughs and wiggles away anyway.
"We also got," Mikey rummages around in the gift store bag, then pulls out, "matching fuzzy socks!"
The socks are in their signature colors and have snowboarders on them, and each set has a terrible pun like, "SNOW RULES!" and "COOLER THAN COOL!" Leo loves them immediately.
"I think this is the best gift you've ever gotten me," says Leo sincerely. Mikey beams and comes in for a hug that Leo gladly returns.
"Here, put 'em on!" says Mikey after he backs away, nodding at the hoodie and pants on the bed. "You don't want to be cold, right?"
"Right," says Leo, lifting the hoodie in his arms. A quick glance around the room shows that they're all looking at him now - Mikey, Donnie, and April by the bed, Splinter from the other bed, Draxum at the table, Raph hovering in the doorway. Waiting for him to put the clothes on.
He wishes they wouldn't.
It's weird. He's never felt self-conscious like this. He and his brothers have never really practiced modesty the way humans do, especially around each other. And yet the idea of standing in front of them now with no clothes, not even his mask, makes him feel strangely queasy.
He tries to tell himself it's because of how he looks now. Stick thin arms and legs, weird, unhealthy skin tone, dark circles under his eyes that a few hours of unconsciousness and one night of intermittent sleep have definitely not erased. That it's just his normal vanity.
But he can still feel it: that guard's eyes on him, any time he left the safety of his hiding spot under his cot.
He pulls the hoodie on over his head while he's still in bed. Then he crawls out of bed and pulls the pants on as fast as he can.
He looks around to see if anyone noticed, but their expressions haven't changed. Mikey gives him a thumbs up.
He relaxes. With the clothes on, the feeling of being exposed finally ebbs away. And it is warmer like this, which is a plus.
It's okay. In a day or two, he'll be over this weird self-consciousness and back to normal, and no one has to know about it.
"Well, how do I look?" he asks, grinning and turning in a circle. Mikey and April clap indulgently for him.
"Lookin' good, Leo," says April, and he gives her a wink.
"Well, even though you chose to forego my aesthetic sensibilities, I got you something, too," says Donnie, pushing his way forward. He holds out a pair of flipflops, which say "We're in" and "CO" on the toes and have cartoon giraffes on the heels. Leo can't help but grin when he sees them. "Trust me, you'll want these if we have to go into any gas station restrooms. Shudder."
Leo laughs, then reaches out an arm to pull Donnie into a hug before he can escape. To his surprise, Donnie doesn't even put up a token fight against it, hugging him back more fiercely than usual.
"Thanks, I love them," he says into Donnie's ear.
"Of course you do," says Donnie smugly, but his eyes are suspiciously shiny when he breaks the hug. Nothing feels awkward between them now, even given the cracker incident earlier, and Leo is glad.
“Okay!” says April, clapping her hands. “Checkout’s in thirty minutes - if you have anything else to do, do it now.”
“Wait,” says Leo, looking around. “Where’s my mask?” It’d be nice for hiding the dark circles.
“Oh, I think Raph grabbed it,” says April, but when she turns, Raph is gone. April presses her fingers to her forehead and sighs. “Okay, you can get it later.”
Leo’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He reaches around and grabs a bottle of vegetable juice Draxum gave him, draining the last of it.
“Checkout in twenty eight minutes,” says Donnie to cut the awkwardness. “Let’s go, people!”
Leo sits on the bed and watches his family prepare to leave, gnawing on the top of his juice bottle.
-----
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” calls a voice, and Leo blinks awake to see April standing over his cot. No, not the cot - this is the bench seat in the tank. If he’s going to be sleeping so much, he needs to stop waking up confused.
And he has been sleeping a lot. The only time they woke him up was to eat another snack of crackers with a little bit of mushed up banana, like he’s some kind of baby.
The banana did help break up the monotony, though.
Leo can’t help but hope he’s being woken up for food again.
Like she read his mind, April grins and holds out a hand to help him up. “Lunch time!” she announces.
“Oh boy,” says Leo, taking the hand and slowly getting to his feet. He’s stiff from lying in the tank for so long, and he stretches and pops his arms. “More flavorless mush.”
“Maybe we can convince Drax to give you a little salt this time,” says April with a snicker. She waits for him to slip the flipflops on, then leads him out of the tank.
It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s really been out in the sun in over a week, excluding times he’s been unconscious and the short walk from the motel room to the tank. He takes a minute to just lean his face back and feel the warmth of it on his skin. It hasn’t even been that long, and he’s used to life underground, but somehow it feels different this time, foreign and new and sweet.
When he looks back at April, she’s tearing up again. She quickly wipes at the bottoms of her eyes and pulls on a smile, linking her arm around his.
“Come on. We can grab a picnic table and sit outside.”
It's then that Leo actually takes in where they are: a big travel center, or that's what the sign on the building declare. The tank is parked at the gas pumps, and Donnie, with his hood up, is excitedly talking about it to some interested truckers who have come over. He spots Mikey over at the grassy space for dog walking, laughing while a puppy licks his face, a seemingly annoyed Draxum standing off to the side with his arms folded. He doesn't see Raph or Splinter, but April fills him in as they cross the parking lot.
"Raph and Splints are inside ordering food. They have a whole diner in there!"
"Let me guess: I'm eating soup."
"I think it's potato."
"Well, at least it's not more tomato." Leo makes a face. "If I have to drink any more vegetable juice I'm going to turn red and swell up into a ball."
"You know what pizza sauce is made out of, right?" she asks, playfully bumping into him.
"Actually, I don't," he says smoothly, bumping into her back. They fake tussle outside the door for a moment, until both of them are laughing.
Someone trying to get past clears their throat loudly, and April and Leo shoot them an apologetic look before going on inside. Leo visits the restroom and tries not to look too long at the arrays of snacks on offer. April goes to help Raph and his dad with the food.
They all end up back outside at a large picnic table. His family has a mix of foods: burgers, hot dogs, salads, chicken strips. He knows there was pizza inside, and it touches him that no one picked it.
Next to everyone else's large, full plates, his own bowl of soup feels ridiculously small and sad. But he doubts any amount of pouting will convince Draxum to let him have a burger, so he digs in. At least this has some flavor.
Lunch is nice, even if Raph is still acting weird and distant. It’s just good being in the sun and the fresh air. Leo is reluctant to leave as they finish up.
“Come with me!” says Mikey as the others go to throw their trash away and buy anything they need for the return trip. He holds out his hand, and Leo takes it and follows Mikey back toward the grassy area at the edge of the parking lot. They make sure there are no dog droppings, then lay down in the grass, looking up at the blue sky and the clouds going overhead.
“I thought it’d be nice to get a little more sun before we have to get back in the tank,” says Mikey, limbs splayed out in every direction. He’s taken off his hoodie - no one at the travel center has paid much attention to the peeks of green skin they’ve been showing off, and no one is nearby right now, anyway.
It is a little hot. But the idea of being shirtless where a stranger can see him keeps Leo fully swaddled.
He pushes that thought aside, closing his eyes and just trying to enjoy the feeling of the sun on his skin, the breeze blowing by, the grass under his fingers. He doesn’t get to touch a lot of grass in the city, but it reminds him of times they would sneak out to Central Park.
“This is really nice, Angelo,” he says. “Thanks.”
“Mmhmmm.”
They’re quiet for a few minutes, just laying there, with only the ambient sounds of the travel center keeping them company. Leo starts to feel like he might doze off again.
“…Hey Leo?”
Leo blinks his eyes open, craning his neck to see Mikey. “Yeah?”
“Are you… okay?”
Ah. Maybe he should have expected this.
“Of course I’m okay,” he says, voice nonchalant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Uh, well…” Mikey hesitantly trails off, clearly trying to decide what he wants to say.
Leo takes care of it for him. “It’s over, Mikey. You guys saved me. I’m okay.” He turns his head and grins. “And once Draxum stops being the food police, everything will be back to normal.”
“Mmm…” Mikey doesn’t sound as convinced as he should. Man, Leo’s smiles are really failing him lately. “But… if something’s bothering you… You’ll tell us, right?”
Leo pats his head. “Of course I will.”
If it’s worth bringing up to them, anyway.
Mikey’s eyes rove his face for a moment, but in the end he must be satisfied, because he smiles and rolls to toss his arm over Leo’s chest. “Okay. But I’ll hold you to that.”
“Or what, I’ll get a visit from the doctor?”
“You know it!”
Leo laughs, which gets Mikey laughing. They stay there until Raph calls their names across the parking lot, and they go back to the tank.
-----
He manages to stay awake after they stop for lunch, curled up on the bench seat. He doesn’t have the energy to talk as much as normal, but he leans against Donnie and contributes where he can. He’s just happy to be back with them, hearing and seeing them all around him.
But there’s something always at the back of his mind keeping him from fully relaxing: he doesn’t know when he gets to eat next. And he knows it will be okay - he’s with his family, and they’d never let him go hungry. He knows that, but about two and a half hours after lunch, he keeps finding himself returning to the same thought.
He’s drinking on a sugar-free Gatorade they got him at the travel center; one of the only non-vegetable or fruit drinks Draxum approved. Mikey has just finished up a story from one of the many art vlogs he watches, and, in the lag of conversation, he tries to broach the subject casually.
“Sooo… what’s our plan for the rest of the drive? Are we stopping, or…?”
“We’re going to try to make it all the way back to New York,” says April. “We already have our shifts picked out, and the autopilot is helping.”
“We can stop in a few more hours for another bathroom break,” says Donnie, pulling up a holoscreen showing their route and the drive time remaining. “Unless someone needs us to stop sooner.” He glances at Leo, and the way he’s bouncing the rim of the bottle off his teeth.
“Oh, uh, I’m good,” he says quickly, lowering the bottle. "I'm just wondering, uh... what about stopping for dinner?"
His family does about as good a job being subtle about looking at each other as he's being subtle about his worry. "We were thinking we'd probably try to find something around seven," says Donnie.
Seven. It's a little after three now. Okay. He can wait that long. What's four hours? And at least he knows what to expect now.
His family hesitantly return to their conversation. And Leo does his best to pay attention. April is telling them about all the stuff she's been doing to prepare for college in the fall, how she's already chatting with people running the student paper. She's excited about it, and Leo is excited for her.
"Ew, Leo," says Donnie suddenly, tearing him out of his thoughts. "Why are you doing that?"
Leo looks over at him in confusion. He starts to ask, Doing what?, but when he opens his mouth to speak, something falls out of his teeth and into his lap.
It's the Gatorade bottle cap, chewed down flat. Leo can see the marks from where his molars snapped through the lip, and the dents where he's been gnawing at it with his incisors.
He didn't even know he was doing that.
Everyone saw him doing that.
Embarrassment flushes through him, and he scrambles to grab the lid and toss it into their communal trash sack. Maybe no one noticed how thoroughly he had chewed on it.
"Gross," says Donnie, his nose scrunched up. So at the very least he saw. "You don't know where that's been."
"Oh please, it's not that gross," says Leo, doing his best to keep his voice light and airy. "It's just a bottle cap."
"That other people have touched and that you put into your mouth."
"Don't knock it till you try it, bro."
"I'm good not trying it."
"Your loss," says Leo with a shrug. He leans back, cool and calm and collected and not a total weirdo who gnaws on plastic like it's candy. "Stop looking at me like that, I threw it away already."
Donnie stops looking at him, literally. Things feel tense again. Leo doesn’t know how he keeps managing that.
Mikey jumps up, walking to the front of the tank, where Draxum is asleep in one of the chairs. Mikey shakes him awake, smiling in the face of his annoyed grumbling.
“Hey, Barry, is it okay if Leo has a snack?”
“Why do you have to ask him?” calls Leo, folding his arms. “Besides, I’m fine!”
His protests go ignored. “What time is it?” asks Draxum, sitting up and smoothing down his robes.
“I’m fine!” insists Leo, louder.
“It’s three fifteen,” Mikey says.
“Mm… Yes, he can have a snack.” Draxum gets up, going over to their snack cooler. “Leonardo, do you want crackers or more banana?”
“I’m fine!” Leo tries one more time, but his stomach flips when it occurs to him that he may actually not get a snack if he insists, and he wants the snack.
He sighs, sinking back in his seat, and says, “Crackers.” He wants the crunch of eating them.
Draxum brings him his crackers. There’s only four. He’s not sure why he’s getting less this time. Maybe because he was caught chewing on the lid.
He doesn’t ask. He eats what he’s been given, and then decides the best thing for everyone would be if he took another nap.
-----
Raph would have driven them all the way to New York if he’d been allowed. But they insist on having him swap with Donnie, and he ends up sitting in the back on the benches with because the other front chairs are hard for him to fit in.
Leo is asleep. He’s been sleeping a lot, but that’s to be expected. His body barely has any energy, and going by the dark circles, Raph knows he didn’t get much sleep while he was…
When Leo is awake, his family are their lively selves, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Once he goes to sleep, everyone quiets down, Donnie dims the lights in the cab, and a weird melancholy sets in.
Leo looks terrible. They haven’t talked about it, but they all know it. Raph is shocked Leo has even been able to walk on his own, but Draxum attributes that to their reinforced mutant biology. He’s swimming in a hoodie that is his size, his hands and feet are skeletal where they poke out of his clothes. Raph wonders how long it will take for him to start filling out again, to have muscle like he did before. He’s afraid to ask.
Splinter sits with Leo’s head in his lap, rubbing his shell any time he shifts in his sleep. Mikey curls up against Raph and sniffles, and Raph pulls him closer.
He has to keep reminding himself that Leo is here, and safe. He just ate a snack, and soon they’ll get another meal in him. Just give it a week or two, and they’ll have their brother back.
And then, he’ll make sure Leo knows he never has to sacrifice himself again.
-----
Home looks just like Leo remembered it, and feels totally foreign at the same time.
His family clap for him as he walks in, and he does a little bow, which is a poor decision because it leaves him feeling lightheaded after. Luckily Raph is there to catch him and carry him from the garage to the chair in the living room. Things are still weird between them, but at least Raph isn't totally avoiding him.
(Raph still hasn't yelled at him. He wishes they could just get it over with.)
They eat lunch, with Leo getting bland soup and crackers again. Draxum notes that he could have peanut butter if they could have it in the lair, which makes Raph look pointlessly guilty, so Leo changes the subject. After lunch, April gives him a big hug and tells him she'll see him soon, but she has to go back home before her mom gets too worried. Leo feels bad when he learns she's missed several days of class now, but she just laughs and pats his head.
"I'm a senior and it's May, Leo; that I show up at all is enough for them."
Everyone's tired from being on the road for over twenty four hours, so after April leaves they unanimously agree on a movie marathon/turtle pile in the living room. His brothers drag out their comfiest pillows and blankets and set up in the floor, while Splinter cuddles up with Leo in his recliner. Draxum actually stays, to everyone's surprise, and Mikey jumps at the opportunity to introduce him to the magic of Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim.
Leo drifts in and out the whole evening. He'll be awake for the whole first act of a movie, then blink and suddenly they're partway through a different film. Each time he wakes his dad is there, patting his hand and saying, "Hello, Blue," and his brothers are around him, quoting their favorite lines or jumping up to act along with their favorite parts. It's normal and it's familiar and it's warm and soft.
He eats more soup for dinner, and crackers and banana and a little pudding cup, as a treat. His family gets more sleepy as evening turns to night; his dad's snoring fills the room, and Draxum finally leaves to go to his apartment. His brothers settle in and fall asleep around the middle of Jupiter Jim's Last Trip to the Moon 17, curled up in a heap at the foot of the chair.
He's home.
He's really home.
It's over.
Leo buries his face in his dad's fur and lets that thought carry him to sleep.
-----
Leo's home and it's amazing.
Raph wishes that meant everything was back to normal.
He doesn't know how to be around Leo right now. Every time he looks at him, he sees the stick thin arms and the gaunt face and he hears Leo's voice saying, That's not what a hero would do, and he doesn't know what to say anymore. What if he accidentally says something that makes Leo feel like what happened to him was right? What if he accidentally makes Leo think he should do it again?
It's only been a day, he tries to tell himself. Leo's still spending most of his time sleeping, between his regular snacks and meals. Even when he's awake, he doesn't have much energy for conversation, seeming content to just sit and listen to everyone else. It's just not the right time. It'll get better once Leo is better.
He can wait until then.
It's the afternoon now, the day after they brought Leo home. Raph just finished his workout and is making his rounds to check on everyone, just to make sure that everyone is... well, just to make sure. Splinter is in the kitchen making tea, a kind with no caffeine or sugar, as per Draxum's instructions. Mikey and Leo are in the living room, a half-asleep Leo watching Mikey play video games on the projecter.
Donnie isn't there.
His heart lurches, no matter how much he tells himself it's okay. Donnie is fine, Donnie is home, Donnie hasn't gone missing, not right after they got Leo back.
(He'd tried to tell himself Leo was fine in the beginning, too.)
He checks their rooms first, but Donnie's is empty. Then it's up to the lab, where he finds the door closed.
He knocks, and a robotic voice asks for identification. He sighs, not wanting to play this game right now.
"Donnie, it's me. You better be in there..."
The door beeps and then slides up, revealing a dimly lit lab. At first, Raph thinks he must not be here, and he's about to turn to leave, but then he hears a noise from Donnie's big computer desk.
A sniffle.
His big brother senses shifting into hyperdrive, he speed-walks over. The door slides shut behind him with a mechanical whir.
Sure enough, Donnie is there, legs pulled up into his desk chair, face buried in his knees. His goggles are off and laying on the desk, and his computer monitor shows a video, frozen on...
A white room, almost empty, save the cot that is for some reason propped up in front of the toilet, and...
Donnie sniffles again, and Raph tears his eyes away from one little brother to the other.
"Donnie...? What is this?"
Donnie sniffs and sits up a little more, rubbing under his eyes where tear tracks are already drying. "It's the surveillance video from the EPF base."
Raph gathered that much. "Why... are you watching it?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Donnie looks up at him. "I wanted to see what they did to him."
"You couldn't just ask him?"
Donnie's drawn on eyebrows go down. "I don't know, do you want to ask him?"
Raph imagines trying to ask Leo questions like that and can't help but cringe. "Okay, no. Raph doesn't want to do that."
"Exactly." Donnie gestures at the screen. "I got this footage from the base. And I erased it permanently from their systems, for the record, and destroyed the hard drives to be sure. But I kept a copy for us. I thought, if Leo wasn't in a state to... well, just in case. We might need it for medical reasons."
"But we know what's wrong with him," Raph points out.
"Do we?"
"Uh, yeah." Raph nods. "Starvation... right?"
"Well, yes." Donnie drums his fingers on the table. "But... he's different, now. He's pretending he's not, and he's doing his normal Leo thing of joking and smiling, but... he is." Donnie scowls. "And I already asked Michael to confirm my suspicions, and he said so, too, so I know this isn't me overreacting!"
"Okay, okay!" Raph holds up his hands placatingly. "So you wanted to watch the footage to see what happened. What'd you find out?"
Donnie wilts, resting his chin on his knees. "I couldn't get further than the first twenty four hours."
Raph feels a foreboding chill run over his spine. "You couldn't... or you didn't want to?"
Donnie reaches over and presses a button. The footage shifts to a different angle, so now he can see the wall Leo was curled up against. Donnie runs the footage back at a fast speed, and Raph watches as Leo gets up a few times, disappearing into the blind spot of the camera, or going to grab water from a little slot by the door, until Donnie freezes on a new scene: the wall opening up to reveal a large window.
He leans forward, putting his hands on the desk. "Raph saw that - they were watching his cell through that."
"Yes. And he would sit in that spot," Donnie runs the footage forward a bit, to where Leo is sitting against the now white wall, "because it's in a blind spot to the window."
Raph grimaces. "He didn't want them watching him."
"But it didn't matter," says Donnie, and he reaches over and taps the button to go to a new angle... and again... and again. "They have every inch of the room covered."
Raph's heart sinks. "Does he know?"
"Leo's not dumb," says Donnie, a magnanimous statement coming from him. "He knew they had to be watching him with cameras."
"But he still tried to hide..."
"He was doing whatever he had to to feel better," concludes Donnie.
Raph sighs. "I wonder if it worked."
Donnie clicks another button, and the video player closes. He swivels his chair to face Raph, his eyes shiny again.
"I don't want to watch anymore," he admits.
Raph nods. "I wouldn't want to, either."
"No, I mean... because he was trying to hide." Donnie rubs at his eyes again. "Maybe it is a little ironic for me to be saying this, but... it feels like it would be a privacy violation."
Raph turns that over. Maybe knowing what happened to Leo could help them. But what Donnie is saying feels more important.
He puts his hand on Donnie's shoulder, the part that's bare past his battleshell, and gives it a rub. "You love him and you don't want to hurt him," he concludes.
Donnie sniffles again, and then uncurls himself, putting his legs down on the ground. He doesn't have to do more than that for Raph to catch on, and Raph scoops Donnie up into a hug that is quickly returned.
"...I keep hurting him," Donnie admits, resting his head on Raph's shoulder. "I don't know how, but it keeps happening."
"...Yeah, well, join the club," says Raph sadly. He pats at Donnie's back. "Raph can't seem to say the right thing, either."
Donnie laughs miserably. "I thought getting him back would be the hard part. And then everything would go back to normal."
"Yeah..." Raph gives him a tight squeeze. "But you know what April said?"
"What?"
"That we'll do the hard part, 'cause we love him."
"Well, April is the only other smart one in this family," says Donnie, and Raph gives him a noogie with no actual pressure.
"Everything will be okay," he says. "Raph promises."
That seems to calm Donnie down. Raph just hopes he can actually keep it.
-----
It's his first night back in his room, and for the first time since escaping, Leo can't sleep.
He doesn't know why he can't. The sheets are the same as always. The dim lights from outside his subway car filter in through the windows the same as they used to. He's wearing his favorite pajamas, which have pants and long sleeves. The temperature is warm but not too hot. Conditions are perfect.
But he can't sleep.
At first he thought maybe it's because he's alone for the first time, but he doesn't think it's that. In fact, the idea of going to one of his brothers or his dad makes him feel even more exhausted. He loves them and he loves being around them, but he's had to work hard all day to not seem too weird. He caught himself chewing his spoon at lunch and had to stop. He paced the kitchen until Draxum gave the okay for him to have a snack. Mikey poked his head in while he was changing shirts earlier and he froze up, deer in the headlights. In the end, he went to the bathroom to change, because at least there aren't windows in there.
He's being weird, and trying to not be weird is taking all his energy.
So no. He's okay being alone right now. But something is still bothering him.
It's not the bed; he slept in the motel just fine. It's not the temperature, because they're making sure the lair stays nice and warm for him. And it's not the clothes, because the clothes are covering him up. And it's not the windows because it's not even like anyone is looking through them.
Right?
It's only then that Leo realizes he keeps staring out of them.
He tears his eyes away to look at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. What is he worried about? So what if the train car is full of windows? Who would even be looking at him? It's just his family outside, and if they need to talk to him they'll come in.
Besides, the windows are see-through. If someone were looking at him, he'd be able to see them.
Just to reassure himself of that, Leo looks around at all the windows again.
Yep. Still see-through. So it's fine. It's really not a big deal! No one is going to look through the windows at him here. No one is watching him. He's safe, and if he weren't, he would know, because he can see.
...Maybe he could hide under his bed.
Leo gives his head a hard shake. No. He is not going to hide under his bed, because that would be weird, and Leonardo Hamato is not weird.
Maybe he can just... put up some curtains in his room. Just, purely for aesthetic reasons. Yeah, that would look really cool. He could get some blue ones with some kind of sick design. Add some real originality to this place.
And then he could cover the windows and no one could look in unless he wanted them to.
Not that anyone is looking in, because he's home and he's safe and he's okay and he really wants to hide under his bed-
He takes deep breaths. His eyes land on the posters on the wall of the train car.
Maybe... maybe they would look better over the windows. Just... aesthetically.
He moves the posters to the windows of the train car, pressing hard to get the old tape to stick. It covers the immediate windows around his bed, but there are still others, and they're more in the dark, so Leo can't see who might be out there.
Not that anyone would be.
But if someone were, he wouldn't be able to know.
So he grabs towels next, and t-shirts, and anything he has lying around his room, and puts them on the bed. Then he sneaks to the kitchen to find a roll of masking tape.
It's not easy, but after about an hour he's managed to cover every window in the train car with something.
Just... a preview. For how sweet the curtains are going to look. And not for any weird reasons, like being scared.
Because he's not scared. He's home, and he's safe, and no one is watching him from outside the windows.
He lays down in bed and surveys his handwork. The room is even darker now, with every window covered, completely different from the stark ever-present light in that place.
It makes him feel safe and hidden.
No one can look in, and he's shielded by the dark.
(He has no idea how he's going to explain this tomorrow.)
But when he finally shuts his eyes, he sleeps like a baby.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4 Part A
#rottmnt#dandy fanfiction#room fic#rise leo#rise raph#rise splinter#rise donnie#rise mikey#rise april#baron draxum#cw internalized ableism#cw vomit
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I dont know if it was intentional but I love that Narinder when he sees Lamb throwing up he turns gentle and pushes their wool and ears back so they dont get stained with vomit and for some reason it reminded me of how when Nari was throwing up too after the nightmare he had when they were on route to fight Leshy, Lambert helped him with camellias for the nausea.
Ahh, parallels. I think.
IM SO GLAD YOU POINTED THAT OUT allow me to ramble for just a moment.
Narinder was trapped in the Afterlife for over 1000 years, with little social skills and plagued by wishing for vengeance and his only company being two kittens who become disciples under his rule. He has terrible social skills, if not lacking them entirely.
(I would argue that Aym and Baal also have horrific nonexistent social skills, so those three cat's can't really help each other communicate properly to anyone else outside themselves.)
It can be argued that since The One Who Waits had other vessels to pass time and try to kill /annoy his siblings before the prophesized Lamb arrival, that he would have developed them a little bit more, but I would argue that the power balance would have been oodles more severe since the vessels weren't the promised one. He didn't need them, so if they no longer were of service or disobeyed him, he got rid of them. Whether just sending them out or killing them, any how.
Lamb, however, knows they are the last Lamb, the prophesized liberator of The One Who Waits, and therefore his only option. They knew that they were his only reasonable way out of there (whether they asked for it or not) so they were oodles more comfortable than how a professional relationship would have been.
So they asked questions, bothered him, played and ran around him. Complained and vented to him. Yapped and yapped. What is he gonna do? Kill them? Find a new vessel? He can't. "You're as trapped into this prophecy as much as I am, so let's be friends"
Example parts from Chapter 3:
The power balance equalizes because Lamb did not see his presence a God, but rather a fellow prisoner and victim of fate. Rude and demanding, but in the same chains as they were. 'My lord' was simply formalities at first.
This puts Narinder / The One Who Waits in social situations he hasn't been in (or hardly been in) in over a thousand years, and frankly, he had no idea how to navigate them:
Example from Chapter 5:
The God of Death has not needed to comfort or 'be there' for someone in a long, long time. The Lamb's presence is what forces him to try, even if his first attempt aren't perfect. So in that same chapter, he'll ask them a question to distract them. Conversation. Like how they do it.
While I won't post a screenshot of everytime this happens in written format (not including the dreams/memories/flashbacks that haven't been posted yet)-
The One Who Waits is pushed outside of his bubble when it comes to socializing in a way that isn't just 'God-to-Lowly-Vessal' format. He has to talk to them like a person, because he's being talked to like a person, not a god on a pedestal.
Obviously after the final battle and betrayal (to both of them, otherwise known as the Grand Miscommunication) this means nothing for a while as tempers are still high and feelings are hurt. But overtime, this returns, and can show in small ways (ways that may not seem like comfort but is certainly an attempt) like just in Chapter 18:
Trying to bring them an 'offering' (breakfast) mirroring other times the Lamb has done the same for him:
Crudely offering to replace something they are upset at losing/later offering reassurance abet in a curt way:
And what you mentioned: earlier when the Lamb is throwing up, narration shows they're having trouble with keeping their wool, cloak, bell, ect all back at the same time. He can see that. He has a mental boiling pot explosion over the fact that helping them is even a want that he has after the denial crisis he's experiencing where the only answer a minute ago seemed like he needed to kill them, and he chose comfort.
It is intentional. Narinder is learning how to show care, and allowing himself to show care. Slowly, and not perfect, but learning.
#trod au#the rehabilitation of death#ramble#long post#apologies for the spew of words#there are other small instances in the fic outside of chapter 18 where he shows a little#but it's going to just get more and more noticable from this point on#with a lot of his behaviors he honestly needs to be smacked with a rock (deuragatory) /j#but the lamb does not take his shit and doesn't react in explosive anger#a 'be kind but take no shit' kind of vibe that has narinder put in a spot where he has to actively choose#whether the consequences of his actions is something he really wants or if he Wants Something Else
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Coffee
I've had this story saved for a while now trying to muster the confidence to post it today is the day! I'm finally jumping straight out of my comfort zone and into new territory wish me luck... Can you tell I'm bad a naming things, title coming soontm... when I think of one.
DISCLAMER: This is my first time writing a reader fic so please be gentle. It is also my first time writing a fic that is pretty much going to be centered around smut. I am also really bad at writing Soap's accent my dyslexic brain freaks out too much, I will strive to improve though XD
Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 3.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. Am I doing this right?? CW: This chapter is SFW, but in future it will get spicy so for my own sanity +18 MDNI mentions of sex, descriptions of injuries.
Part 2 Masterlist
Phew, Enjoy <3
“Sergeant MacTavish?” You call into the hallway there are some soldiers waiting, you look up and down to see if anyone reacts to the name.
“Sergeant John MacTavish?” You call again this time a little louder.
“Here lass!” A man calls hobbling down the hall towards you. Your breath catches in your throat, even being on a base surrounded by plenty of hunky men you had not seen anyone quite like him. His broad shoulders, thick arms and tanned skin. His fluffy mohawk, shining almost bronze in the florescent lights. To top it all off his cheeky grin is sending butterfly's racing in your stomach.
He’s being followed by what seems like an even bigger man trying to help him wobble his way down the hall, his sharp eyes focused on making sure his friend doesn’t topple over. The rest of his face is covered by a balaclava with a skull printed on it. It makes you shiver as they walked towards you. You move to the side of the door letting them in. John finds his way to a chair while the other man stands behind him. You close the door to the room going back over to the desk sitting down and opening his file on the computer.
“Twisted your ankle during an exercise?” You look past the monitor at him.
“Aye, I’m fine but LT here insisted I get it checked out.” He replies with a smile on his face thumbing behind at the man looming over him. Christ even his accent is sexy.
“And I’m staying to make sure you do get it checked out properly instead of flirting your way to a few paracetamol and a cold compress.” The man said, his voice was deep, commanding. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks at the mention of flirting, but you push the thought away trying to remain professional.
“It is good to get it checked even if it is just a sprain.” You move your chair round so you’re sitting in front of him.
“Do you mind if I take your boot off?”
“I got it lass,” he winked bending down to untie the laces, and pulled the boot off. You could tell by the scrunching of his face and the grunt he made that this was causing him pain. He put his foot back down on the floor his ankle did look swollen.
“Have you tried ice or a cold compress?” You ask.
“Aye,” he replies you hear the man behind him sigh.
“What he means by that is he tried for about 5 minutes before he was back on his feet again.” John huffed at being called out.
“You’ll need to try for longer then that,” you say acknowledging the tall man behind John who now had his arms crossed. You pick the foot up watching John try to hide the pain, you only lift it up a little before decided it was going to need an x-ray.
“I will book an x-ray for you in the mean time if you go into the ward they will give you an ice pack and a bed.” You explain moving your chair back to the desk so you could book the appointment.
“Do you want any pain relief?” You ask.
“Na, I can barely feel it.” He says a cheeky smile on his face. You nod typing the report and waiting for the paper to print out.
“I can give you some crutches you really should keep your weight off it.” You stand up going to the printer.
“It’s okay love I’ve got my own crutch here.” He says hopping up on his foot and wrapping his arm round the other man. You smile handing the paper to him.
“Give this to the nurse on the ward.” You say rushing in front of them to open the door.
“Thanks love,” he says beaming at you as he gets lead out by his friend who looks back at you and nods. You close the door to the room taking a breath out. What the hell was that? You find a smile forming on your lips as your heart flutters in your chest.
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Two days later you find yourself as the night nurse. Not that you mind it’s normally the quieter part of the job and there is no one in the ward so you don’t even have to worry about trying to look busy. About an hour into your shift someone comes through the doors. You recognise him immediately as John, from a few days ago with the sprained ankle. He’s hobbling around on crutches now, his friend is not with him ether.
“Hello sweetheart!” He says his voice full of energy, that ever present smile on his face.
“Hey, John did you need something?” you ask coming round from behind the nurses station.
“Yeah actually, I was told to come pick up something…” He trails off. “Now what was it?”
“Painkillers?” You ask.
“No it begin with a T I think.” He looks up to the corner of the room like he is trying to think hard about it.
“A tubigrip?” You ask.
“That’s the one lass!” He says snapping his fingers, you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
“Sit up on the bed I’ll get you one.” You say turning to the cupboard of supplies. You pick out two sizes then walk back over to John already leaning down to untie his boots.
“I can do that.” You insist waving his hands away, he sighs but gives in leaning back on the bed. You carefully remove the boot looking back and checking to see how he reacts. He’s ether getting better at hiding it or painkillers have helped. He only winces when you have to pull the boot over his heel.
“What did the doctor say?” You ask.
“Sprained, I’ve been stuck behind a desk for the last two days.” He makes a pouting face as you pull his sock off.
“You should sleep with it elevated that will help with the swelling.” You say pulling his trouser leg up. The swelling has definitely improved since you saw it last.
“I bet with a few more days of rest you’ll be back on your feet like nothing happened.” You smile at him.
“I hope so lass, my unit’s being shipped out at the end of the week.” He says as you pull the tubigrip over his foot and ankle.
“Oh yeah anywhere fun?” You ask.
“Ah ‘fraid I can’t tell you that love.” He winks, you can't tell if he’s joking or not but you pull his trouser leg back down.
“You can keep your boot on but not too tight, and keep it elevated.” You explain putting his boot back on and loosely tying the laces.
“What painkillers are you taking?” You ask as he swivels his body round so his feet are hanging off the bed.
“Paracetamol, oh and the doc said I could take ibuprofen too, but I don’t need it I can barely feel a thing.” You look back at him chuckling, his arms flex as he pushes himself up with the crutches. You feel your cheeks heat up again.
“You should take the ibuprofen at least it will also help with the swelling.” You force out, leaning over him to pick up his sock from the bed. He smells good, must be his aftershave. You hold the sock out for him and he sheepishly takes it out your hand shoving it in his pocket. You move back so he can hop out the ward back to the nurses station.
“Well it was nice seeing you again…” He trails off like he’s trying to remember your name his eyes squinting. You cover your badge teasing him. He chuckles.
“LT is the one with the better memory.” He says turning his body to the doors.
“Ashe.” You reply uncovering your badge.
“Well then Ashe it was nice to see you again.” His smile is infectious and you could have sworn he winked at you.
“Good luck on your deployment,” You call back as he pushes his way through the doors.
“I don’t need luck.” He winks at you. Okay that time it was definitely a wink and it made the butterflies come back to your belly. You sit down at the nurses station with a smile on your face and heat in your cheeks.
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One week later you get a text out of the blue.
Hey, this Ashe?
It’s an unknown number you’re tempted to ignore it, but something inside you forces you to answer it.
Yeah, who’s this?
It’s only seconds later a response comes.
It’s Johnny, with the fucked up ankle.
Holy shit, you choke on your drink, coughing as the liquid has now gone in your windpipe. You take a few more sips trying to sooth it. How the hell did he get my number?
How did you get my number?
From a friend of a friend..
You can’t help but chuckle, is this real? Did he make his deployment? You realise you haven’t seen him round the base in a few days, and you would know you’ve been looking. Sometimes without even realising it any time you see a broad tanned soldier hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you crane to look only to be disappointed. His friend with the skull mask, you found out his name was lieutenant Riley. You know you definitely hadn’t seen him.
Anyway…Want to get coffee?
Such a simple request has your heart thumping in your chest.
When?
You reply without thinking, your leg starts to jump under the table nervousness washing over you. Coffee? With me? Why?
How about that coffee place just outside the base, tomorrow 1300?
Your heart is pounding now your throat dry. Is this a date?
Sure :)
Was the smiley too much, you put your phone down embarrassed. You hear it buzz picking up the courage to look
See ya there :)
You let out a breath your leg stops jumping. Coffee with Johnny, surely it’s just a friendly thing to say thank you for helping with his ankle. It doesn't matter if it is or not but he’s on your mind for the rest of the day until you go to bed.
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You show up early, the butterfly's have not left your stomach since the moment you woke up. You managed to switch your shift with another nurse so you could be here instead. Coffee sounded like too much especially with your nerves you opted for a tea. You find yourself checking your watch almost every second, your back is to the door each time it opens your heart stops and you turn to look. Jesus calm down woman, it’s just coffee. You try to tell yourself. A few minutes later and a few sips of hot tea, you start to calm.
“Hey there lass.” You hear the familiar Scottish accent behind you. You turn in your chair to see him. He’s smiling of course he is he sits down in the chair opposite you. His skin looks darker or maybe it’s just the light in the room, his hair looks like it’s been freshly groomed. You get a proper look at his eyes, a beautiful deep blue. You can’t help finding yourself smiling.
“Hey,” You reply. He chuckles almost like he can feel the nervousness radiating off you.
“What’s your poison?” He asks pointing at your cup.
“Eh tea.” You reply realising you’ve almost finished it.
“Typical brits,” he sighs playfully as he gets up.
“Let me get it, you should rest your ankle.” You say quickly stopping him in his tracks.
“Don’t worry love it’s been solid for a few days now.” You sigh that’s good at least. He gets up walking over to the counter. You take out a deep breath, your head following him as he orders beaming at the staff his accent cutting through the mumbling of the other patrons. You look back at your tea finishing it off as Johnny comes back with the drinks. He smiles as he sits down putting the tea in front of you.
“Thank you,” You say warming your hands on the new mug.
“Ne problem don’t you worry about it, I’m supposed to be treating you,” You feel yourself blushing again as that cheeky look comes back on his face.
“Why?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. He chuckles.
“You helped me with my ankle, I wanted to say thank you.” He says as a matter of fact.
“It’s my job,” you reply shrugging, feeling a rush of embarrassment washing over you. “You could have just caught me on the base.”
“Yeah,” Now his cheeks looked like they were changing to a gorgeous shade of pink.
“Did you manage to get deployed?” You ask trying to move the subject on. He smiles leaning back in his chair.
“Na, whole thing got cancelled, I spent a few days in London.” He says smiling.
“Was Riley-I mean-lieutenant Riley was he with you?” You blurt out sipping your tea so the word vomit would stop.
“Simon?” Johnny asked his smile getting bigger. “Oh yeah we spend a lot of time together.”
“Huh, that’s nice you must be a tight unit.” You say calming yourself. So his name was Simon, Simon Riley.
“What about you what have you been up to?” He leans forward sipping his coffee.
“Work, nothing really.” You smile.
“When’s your next leave?” He asks.
“Two weeks.” He nods like he's thinking about something his lips pressed together. He leans forward on the table more.
“There was another reason I wanted to see you.” He says, his smile disappearing. You hold your breath in anticipation of what he’s going to say next. He takes a breath in for a second looking you in the eyes.
“I really wanted to see you again.” He said, okay that’s not bad. You almost want to laugh at how worked up you got yourself. He just wants to say thank you, he’s buying you coffee because he want’s to be nice. You helped him with his ankle. Now he’s asking if you’re single.
Wait what?
“Single?” You ask, your brain trying to comprehend what you missed. He nods his smile coming back, at least that puts you at ease.
“Yeah, I’m single. Are you single?” It seems like the appropriate time to ask him too. His lips are pressed together again like he’s trying to formulate a sentence in his head.
“It’s complicated,” A cheeky smile forms on his lips as he sips his coffee.
“What do you mean it’s complicated? Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask frowning at him.
“No.” He replies flatly.
“A boyfriend?” He puts his coffee down.
“I wanted to see you cos I’ve spent the last week tryin’ te get ya out my head and it’s impossible.” He said leaning forward. You blush at his words.
“What do you mean it’s complicated though?” Your heart beating faster in your chest you can’t tell if it’s the caffeine from the tea or the words from Johnny’s mouth but it was getting harder to concentrate.
“I’m married to my work.” He says leaning back. You sigh, this has happened before. ‘I can’t be with you the job is too important’ It’s all too familiar, finding love when every one around you is throwing their lives on the front line is near impossible.
“I get it,” You say trying not to hide your disappointment.
“C’mon lass it don’t mean we can’t still be mates.” He says it sounds almost like a plea. You feel sad and drained, you didn’t know what to expect from the meeting but you weren't expecting to feel like you just got dumped by someone you didn’t even date. You look at Johnny his blue eyes look sad, he grips the handle of his coffee mug.
“It’s okay, you seem like a nice guy but I know how this goes. We’ll talk maybe have sex a few times but sooner or later you’ll move on, or be deployed or I’ll move on or be stationed somewhere else…” You look at Johnny finishing the rest of your tea. And moving to stand up. He reaches out to you trying to get you to stay.
“C’mon let me at least walk you back to the base.” You can’t help but see the pleading in his eyes his usual smile warms your heart. You go up and place a kiss on his cheek.
“It’s okay Johnny, I need to go into town anyway.” You smile your hand patting his chest, you can feel the tight muscles under your hand only making it harder to turn away. But you pull your hand off his chest and head for the door.
————————
You make it two weeks having to almost actively avoid Johnny. Since whatever mission he was supposed to be on was cancelled he’d been helping round the base with all kinds of different things. You would bump in to him all the time, your eyes always betraying you and wandering to him whenever he was in your view. He spent a lot of time with Simon, the ‘big scary skull guy’ some of the other nurses would call him.
“I heard his face was burnt off in a horrible accident.” One of them said one day as we were eating lunch in the mess. Your eyes had barely left Johnny’s face he was sat a few tables ahead of you. He seemed to like the fact you were always watching him. His eyes meeting yours and smiling. Sometimes you would look up and it would Simon's eyes staring you down. His gaze would always send shivers up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand up. The nurses giggling as they spread rumours about him. It was enough to piss you off, making you snap at them about spreading rumours like that.
“We’re not in secondary school anymore! Show some respect.” You snapped leaving the table. You knew you could feel Johnny’s eyes digging into you.
When you made it home you welcomed the rest. Your small London apartment had been rented out for the few months you had been away, the place was going to need a good clean tomorrow. The thought of sleeping in a bed that had been home to a stranger for 5 months felt icky so you ended up curling up on the sofa turning the TV on for background noise. Your mind turning to Johnny. Wonder what he’s doing? Think he’s still at the base?
Your mind somehow turned to Simon too, thinking back to all the rumours you’d heard. None of them even remotely sounding plausible. Who cares, he has his reasons for the mask, it’s none of my business. Your phone buzzed and you reached over to pick it up.
Make it home safe?
It was Johnny, he hadn’t texted you since the coffee date. Well date was the wrong word.
Yeah.
You hover over the send button wondering if this was a good idea or not. You take a deep breath in and hit send throwing the phone to the other side of the couch going back to watch whatever distraction was on the TV. You don’t even remember falling asleep.
You’re woken by a knock at the door, you look out the window the sun is peaking through the clouds, you check your watch its 10am. There is another knock. You pull yourself off the couch stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.
“I’m coming.” You call yawning, looking through the peep hole.
What the fuck?
You open the door.
“Johnny?” You ask shocked.
“Hey,” He says, his smile radiating off his face, his hair is a mess he looks like he’s barely slept. You look at him in stunned silence shaking your head.
“I wasn’t completely honest with you.” He says. “Can I come in? I’ll be quick I promise.”
“Not really the best opening line if you want to get into someone's flat.” You say.
“Scouts honour.” He says holding up 3 fingers. You roll your eyes and step aside so he can come in.
“When I said it was complicated, it’s not cos I’m married to the job…” He trails off standing in your kitchen so there is at least a foot distance between you two.
“I am married, to Simon.” Your mouth falls open at the revelation.
“Simon Riley?” you ask, almost shaking your head in disbelief.
“Yeah,” He shrugs.
“So you’re gay?” You say, but it feels like a question.
“Yeah, well Bi, both of us. That’s why it’s complicated.” You shake your head not quite understanding. He seemed nervous all of a sudden.
“Well, we both still like women, and, you know-or I guess you don’t know-we experimented threesomes and what not.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There is something different about you, we’ve both been obsessed with you, can’t get you out our heads.”
“Both?” You ask, your mouth still hanging open.
“Aye, Simon’s not good with words though, or at least not till he gets to know ya.” He chuckles running his hand through his hair again. You take a deep breath out.
“What do you want Johnny?” You ask. Is he asking me for sex? A threesome?
“Have coffee with me and Simon.” He says.
“That’s it coffee?” You ask.
“Yeah.” He says nodding.
“You came all the way to my flat to ask me to have coffee with you and Simon?” You fold your arms, you can’t tell if you feel disappointed it’s not sex or annoyed that he’s basically invaded your privacy for something so trivial. He shrugs. You close your eyes for a second thinking about it. You sigh, it’s not like you have anything better to do while you’re on leave, and it is only coffee. You take a big breath in opening your eyes. Johnny’s smiling again, the smile that makes your heart skip a beat and the butterfly's wake up.
“Okay.” You nod, You don’t get chance to finish your thought cos he’s thrown his arms round you squeezing you.
“Thank you, thank you.” He says breaking from the hug. Your cheeks are definitely red now after feeling his body pressed against yours. You can’t help smiling. He reaches over for the door handle.
“I’ll text you a time and a place,” you nod as he goes out the door.
“Hey Johnny how did you find my address?”
“A friend of a friend,” he smiles up at you from the stairs. You shake your head in disbelief. What the hell just happened?
Next part AO3 link soontm
#fanfic#call of duty#so many tags#cod#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ao3#ao3 fanfic#ghost cod#soap cod#ghost x soap#ghostsoap#ghoap#ghoap x reader#simon riley x john mactavish x reader#simon riley x john mactavish#simon riley x reader#soap x reader#soap x you#simon x reader#simon riley x you#ghoap x you
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midnights * mv1
since your breakup, max hadn’t thought of you. until he stumbled home by himself in the middle of the night.
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: honestly just heartbreak all around
notes: i started writing this when i found out my ex-boyfriend was dating someone new, and now here i am 💀 and i fear i am on my phone once more; i will credit the gif in the morning when i get to school
(next)
the lock clicks as max turns his key, the sound echoing in the eerily empty hallway behind him. he turns the knob and was greeted by his empty apartment.
max hasn’t been home in almost 2 weeks. the races and his media commitments, topped by other projects just made it so rare to find the time to come home. but that’s not the only reason he’s avoiding the confinements of these four walls.
he flips the switch in the entryway, slipping his shoes off. immediately, he notices the vast difference in the way his apartment looks — how strangely lifeless it feels.
he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is and it takes him a second to realise.
you’d emptied his apartment of your belongings.
the breakup happened in the 2 weeks he was away from home. it actually took place a night before his race. he’d grown tired of it too, the neverending misunderstandings and the fights.
so he let you walk away; you hopped on a flight back home.
he hasn’t exactly had the time to think about you since then. you’d only texted him once: two days ago to tell him that victoria will be the one with the cats until he comes back. he’d only replied with a simple ‘okay, thank you’.
he didn’t really know what to say either. he stared at your text message for 5 minutes before daniel called him over to start filming a promotional shoot. that was all he could come up with.
max walks further into the apartment you’d once shared. his eyes are darting all over the place, taking mental notes of spots that look different from the way he had left it.
the framed picture of you with the cats is gone, your magazines on the coffee table, the bowl of your collection of scrunchies as a ‘conversation-starter’ centrepiece — it’s all gone.
his apartment didn’t even feel like home. all of the things that made it feel like home just isn’t in here anymore.
max turns his body, taking a glance at the entryway. even your house slippers aren’t where they usually are. it’s as if you were never even here.
he takes a walk further in, glancing at the sofa. it seems so lifeless now without the teddy bear you brought in, and the blanket that you insisted was only for the living room.
he admits he misses the teddy bear. though, he was opposed to the idea at first, claiming that it’s taking up precious space that you could both be maximising together. it proved a lot more useful when he found himself hugging it when he’s on the sofa watching a show with you.
the remotes for all the appliances are no longer scattered over the furniture mysteriously. they are all lined up neatly on the edge of the coffee table, grouped accordingly. you hated arranging the console remotes for the simple fact that you were too lazy to reach forward an inch to start playing.
and it finally hits him, that in the moment of pride, and simply protecting his peace at the moment, he has now lost you.
for good, it seems.
max drops himself on the couch. he’s still looking around, desperately wishing that this was some cruel dream he’s in. he will wake up with you by his side, your hair in his face with his arm draped lazily around your body. he will wake up and you are still his, and he is yours.
he can only sigh. audbily, at the predicament he has found himself in. at the time, it didn’t occur to him to fight for you; to ask you to stay. he didn’t have it in him to ask you to find reason within yourself to change your mind.
then he hears a soft meow, followed by sounds of pitter patter against the floor of the apartment. before he knew it, the couch dips ever so slightly and then there’s jimmy climbing onto his lap to greet him.
then he hears actual footsteps, slippers dragging against the floor. he turns his head slightly, his one hand patting the feline’s head, and meets victoria’s eyes.
“max?”
“victoria.”
a set of lights by the windows are turned on, granting him a look at his younger sister. she’s standing by the door of the guest bedroom with a jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders.
she has a frown on her face, and a look that screamed she didn’t know what to say to him.
and then his heart breaks. instead of walking through those apartment doors hand in hand with you, giggling from the high you’d get from the bar in his private jet, he is sitting her all by himself. met by his younger sister, who would be gone by morning to go back to her family.
max can only smile sadly at her. he shrugs. “we broke up.”
“i know,” she answers softly, nodding understandingly. she approaches him cautiously with her arms slightly held up. “i’m sorry.”
“me too.”
max scrambles from his position and gladly takes in the hug that she’s offered him. he suddenly feels so small, his heart aching in his chest and his throat closing up. he feels the tears in his eyes as he hugs his younger sister slightly tighter.
she rubs her back up and down, hugging him even tighter when she feels his chest stagger slightly. now he’s sniffling and hands are moving up to his face to wipe the tears falling from his eyes.
“give it time,” victoria whispers, swaying slightly in an attempt to comfort the driver. “i promise everything will fall back into place. slowly, but surely.”
max sighs deeply. “i don’t know why i didn’t stop her from walking away.”
she pulls away from the hug, then tugs his hands towards the couch when he chases her embrace. she leans back, pulling max in for a tighter — and slightly more comfortable — hug.
“i know it sucks now,” she rests her cheek on the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “but let things sort itself out. it will be okay.”
there, in his sister’s arms, he cried for the first time since your breakup. he had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to process the whole situation at all.
the way you had shot daggers at him through your eyes that night, how he snapped at you when he noticed and how the fight had erupted from something barely of significance.
it was just over a cup of coffee — how you had made it with 2 sugars instead of 3.
from there, the topics of contention had evolved into something bigger. in the haze of both of your anger, past arguments were brought up and new ones were created just in that night.
then both of you grew tired. you ended up next to him on the couch of his driver’s room in silence. and you said, “i can’t do this anymore, max.”
and he had said to you, “i’m tired.”
but what he should’ve said was: “i’m sure we can find a way through this.”
but that’s not what he said to you. he stayed silent when you brought it up: “i think we need to break up.”
frankly, he didn’t really know what to say. at first, he was dumbfounded at what you said. never did he think, that when you first start dating, that a breakup would ever present itself.
max told himself, about 4 months into the relationship that there’s absolutely no way he’d end up with anybody else except you.
now, it seems he’s going to have to go through all of this by himself. start the whole thing all over again, unless something changes.
#oh#i like it!#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke f1
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Ateez Reactions: When You Use Safeword (Maknae Line)
TW: fingering, public (i really hate but), oral, cramps :,( , bondage, using safeword obv
hyung line
San
"You're doing very well, darling. Can you hold on a little longer?" You actually couldn't, but you nod your head so as not to disappoint your boyfriend. You were still a little shy since it was the early stages of your relationship. San increased his speed inside you. He was laying on you while fucking you so much that you started to feel overwhelmed. It had gotten so hot you couldn't focus on the pleasure. "Sannie…" He increased his speed even more. "What happened? You want me to speed up?" You took support from his hair, wanted to hold on somewhere. "Sannie, slow down" He continued to fuck you without slowing down because he liked to tease you a little. "San please... Slow down!" He couldn't hear you anymore or your voice wasn't coming out. You're starting to get dizzy from the heat and San. "Yellow!" As soon as you said, he slowed down his speed instantly and looked at your face with a worried look. "What's the matter, dear?" You took a deep breath. "I'm just overwhelmed and everything feels so hot. Can we slow down a bit?" He placed a kiss on your lips. He was still slowly moving in and out of you. "Of course, darling. As you wish."
Mingi
"Huh? Do you like it when I finger you like this?" You didn't know how many fingers he put inside you, but it was definitely more than 2. "Am I doing a good job? It must be so since you're clenching around my fingers." You didn't know how many orgasms you had. You didn't know anything. Your brain was like mush. You could only whine. He changed the position where he had you trapped between his legs and buried himself between your legs. When he started licking your juices, you realized that you couldn't take it. You couldn't handle another orgasm. You wanted to push his head, but he didn't move so you tried to close your legs. "Don't hide from me, kitty, let me take care of you." He grabbed your legs and spread them wide. Your legs are starting to get hurt because you were not very elastic. Suddenly you got a cramp in your left leg. "Agh Mingi stop!!" Of course he thought that your scream was from pleasure and continued. "Strawberry!!!" As soon as he heard your safeword, he moved away from you and you pulled your leg towards you and started whimpering. "What happened? What did I do? I'm so sorry." His eyes widened with concern as you shooke your leg so that the pain will go away. "Did you have a cramp?" You shook your head. His panic seemed very endearing to you. You smiled and caressed his cheek, not wanting him to get any more worried. "Yes, it hurt a lot but it's over now. Don't worry." You winced as you shook your leg because your body was still sensitive. "I shouldn't have opened your legs that wide, kitten." "No Min it's okay. Just give me 5 minutes and then we can continue okay?"
Wooyoung
He was starting to exaggerate being a brat tamer. OK agreed; You had been teasing him in front of his friends all day long, but that does not mean that he will tie you to the bed for an hour, insert a vibrator inside you and sit in front of you, like watching a very exciting show. You had turned into a shaking mass. He loved this helpless state of yours. He headed towards you with a whip in his hand. "Do you realize how angry you've made me, or do you want to stay like this for another hour?" Your brain was blurred and you couldn't understand the words; you didn't understand what he said, you only heard the sentence "one more hour". You couldn't see where he was because you were blindfolded, but you quickly shook your head towards where the voice was coming from. He hit you on the chest with a whip. "Where did your words go? You were talking so well in front of them." He grabbed you by your hair and brought you closer to his face. Even though you couldn't see him, you could hear that sarcastic tone in his voice. "Oh, if you don't want to talk to me, maybe you can talk to San. Like you did at morning." You instantly panicked because you didn't want your best friend to see you like this and Wooyoung always followed through on his threats. "No! Master please-" Your orgasm, which had been waiting to be released for a long time, suddenly released. “Hah, looks like you're impressed, bitch. I should definitely call San then." You felt him move away from you. Even though your ears were ringing from post-orgasm, you could still tell what he was doing. He had trained you very well to understand what was going on around you while you were blindfolded. You heard the sound of his phone's screen unlocking. "Master stop! I don't want!" He laughed sarcastically and approached you. "Being the attention-seeking slut that you are, I thought you'd enjoy his attention?" You took a breath when he stopped the vibrator. "Wooyoung stop, really! I don't want that!" "I'll give you 3 seconds to shut up-" "Violet. Untie me." Your voice was very harsh. Wooyoung panicked and untied you. He felt he had crossed the line. "You didn't really think I'd call him, did you? You think I'd let someone else see what's mine? I was just playing doll."
Jongho
You didn't know what happened to Jongho. Normally he would never do such things in public, he would rarely even hold your hand. But now, he was fingering you under the table in front of his hyungs. You were trying not to squirm but he was so good at his job that you had a hard time. You were trying to hold his hands and stop him. Even though your orgasm was so close, you didn't want to cum in front of them. “Jongho stop it.” you whispered but he neither looked at you nor seemed to hear you. He was trying to find a name for the new kitten that Yeosang would adopt. While fingering you. How cute. "If you don't stop, i will-" You didn't even hear your voice but he leaned over and said "then cum for me, love." As you were about to come, Hongjoong asked you something about the cat's name. "Huh? What name?" "Cat's name, what do you think?" he asked you again. You said your safeword both to stop your boyfriend and to make sure it wasn't obvious that you weren't listening to his hyungs. "Peach." Jongho moved his hand as soon as he heard your safeword as a reflex. "What kind of cat name is that?" Wooyoung laughed "Uh, since I'm actually adopting an orange cat, her name might be peach!" While Yeosang was happy to finally find a name for his cat, Jongho gave you a guilty look. "Are you okay? Did I go too far?" "No I just wouldn't be able to hold myself if you didn't stop" you both whispered to each other.
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#kpop imagines#kpop smut#jongho#mingi#wooyoung#choi san#choi san smut#mingi smut#jongho smut#wooyoung smut#song mingi x reader#choi san x reader#jung wooyoung x reader#choi jongho x reader
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