#just a place where he can sleep in utter peace
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ofglories · 10 months ago
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Title: N/A Characters: Emrys, Uther, hints of Merlin- warnings: major character death, uther.
He knew he was dreaming, if only because it was the same as it had been every night for the past week.
Falling through clouds and bottomless, dark water filled with the glittering light of distant stars. And then finding himself on his feet, standing in calf-deep pools of crystalline water as a star-filled sky stretched endlessly above. Around him the pools of water wound between a boundless field of blue flowers, their petals glowing with a soft light.
And the only landmark to be seen was a massive tree, branches laden with pure white wisteria blossoms that shared the same ghostly glow as the petals fell like snow.
Every night at this point he would start walking towards the tree. And each night he made it closer. Tonight, it seems, he was finally allowed to reach it. The bark on the trunk was warm, the ground beneath a bed of clovers, the mysterious blue flowers, and fallen petals. It looked, frankly, like an ideal place to take a nap. But just as the thought crossed his mind, the same sound that occured each time filled the peaceful field.
The baying of hounds, louder than ever before.
It grew closer and closer, louder and louder, and then...
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Emrys jerked awake with a soft gasp, sitting up in bed.
Just before dawn, like every night the past week.
The king grimaced, running a hand through his hair as he slowly stood. There would be no more sleep this night. He knew that from experience. Distantly he could still hear the baying of the hounds across the skies just beyond his window. Tonight... Emrys sighed softly, leaning his back against the pane of glass to let the cool, late winter air chill him.
Tonight he'd seen the hounds in his dream.
Blindingly white fur except for their red ears and tails. The hounds of the Lord of the Otherworld, according to the tales his mother had told him in his childhood. Hounds that could only be seen by those either about to die, or those who had died but not yet realized it.
It was an unsettling realization, to understand that meant his death was coming soon.
But the question of how remained.
There was no battle. The assassination attempts had finally started slowing down now that it seemed his immunity to poisons was becoming known. Ah, well. No point in worrying about it until the sun rose. Emrys shook his head, standing again to go handle his morning routine. Once he was dressed a walk on the parapets would be nice. With the early morning light and the breeze it would help his mind focus.
He'd need it for the day, after all.
A meeting with Uther at the same time as inspecting an old ruin Merlin had discovered before the winter snows were too heavy for exploration. A packed schedule, though better than it tended to be with significantly less listening to various lords and their complaints or reports.
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The ruin was, in a word, magestic.
The remnants of what had likely once been an ancient hall of some sort. Many of the walls were still mostly in tact, with damage that could easily be repaired by some skilled masons. What sort of thing could they repurpose this into, though? Emrys would have loved to discuss it with Merlin but Uther had tugged the mage away to inspect what he swore were some murals of questionable origin. And apparently the murals had been interesting enough that the mage was completely absorbed in them, enough for Uther to return from that half-collapsed sideroom with a shrug and eye roll.
Which, unfortunately, meant the king had no buffer between himself and his younger brother.
Who was, of course, carelessly swinging his sword around the ruin to "clear cobwebs".
Or something ridiculous like that.
"For the last time, Uther," Emrys sighed, rubbing his temples. This argument had been going in circles for the past ten minutes. Why was Merlin taking so long...? "You'll be given the role of steward not because I don't trust you. It's because you'd likely hate being king and, let's not mince words, no woman is going to willingly marry you to provide a legitimate heir."
Overly blunt, perhaps, but his head was hurting.
"And what makes you think either of those things would be true, huh, Ambrosius?" Uther snarled, making his headache feel worse than ever with the use of that name. Sometimes Emrys wondered if the man wanted only to provoke him by using the name he had left behind years ago now. "I'm actually related to you plus I have a child on the way with someone! That girl has no connections to the throne and has magic like that damned mage of yours."
Ah, yes.
The child.
Emrys grimaced, waving a hand as he turned away. He couldn't keep arguing the same points over and over.
"Morgan is the daughter of the Lord of Cornwall and Lady Igraine. She has a stronger claim to the rule of the land than either of us and I believe she would make a proper heir and queen to the people of Camelot. Her magic is only a bonus." Never did he understand Uther's utter disdain of magic. It was just like physical strength, something that was neither evil nor good.
But then again that was why Emrys had kept his lessons in magic from Merlin a secret.
There was no need to let his brother develop another reason to hate the mage for no apparent reason.
"How can magic be a bonus for anything?!" Gods above, he was whining now. Like a child even if he was shouting. He cast a glare over his shoulder at the younger man, scowling in turn at the sight of him standing on a collapsed pile of stone that had likely once been a pillar.
No point.
Absolutely no point in continuing.
"My word is final, Uther." With that Emrys drew himself to his full height, turning his back on his brother to look for Merlin. "You've sworn to obey your King, and so now I speak as King. Morgan shall be my heir and you shall be her steward until she is ready to rule alone."
Silence met his declaration and he could easily picture the sullen and infuriated look on his brother's face.
Now where was...
Aha!
Emrys smiled at the sight of white through the shadowed gloom of the ruins, taking a step towards the hall where Merlin was standing.
And suddenly...
Pain.
Sharp and blinding and enough to make him gasp, struggling to catch his breath as he stumbled. It came from his back but... Emrys blinked, raising a hand to his chest where a blade protruded. Blood was filling his mouth, making it impossible to breathe. And he choked out a strangled "what?" before he sunk to his knees.
It hurt.
It hurt.
What had just happened?
He felt strange. The pain was there, drowning him as surely as the blood spilling from his mouth. But at the same time it felt strangely distant. Like the sound of screaming filling his ears. Who was screaming? Was it him? No. He couldn't even draw enough breath to speak anymore. There were hands on his shoulders, Uther? Emrys forced his eyes open, struggling against the fog that was already filling them. A sound, the baying of hounds, began somewhere.
Oh, this was mortal.
This was a mortal wound.
So that was what the dreams had been about.
White filled his vision but he couldn't focus his eyes. Everything was blurred, swimming as if he had opened his eyes underwater. But still he forced his hand to move, to raise up to touch that bright color one last time.
A smile was forced to his face.
Then...
His eyes closed, and opened again.
The field from his dreams surrounded him. And he could see the tree.
"Ah... So this is..." Well. There was nothing else to do then. A bitter smile crossed his face as Emrys made his way to the tree. "Maybe one day... I can apologize. Hm. I hope Merlin will guide Uther's child, perhaps protect them from his worst behaviors."
What a shame.
He'd been looking forward to abdication and living a normal, peaceful life...
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rockingbytheseaside · 7 months ago
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✦ How they dream of you at night
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia
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(tw: just slightly sad)
✧ “In the hidden corners where the gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming” - and one said person, Pierro, can be found within the grand Palace of Snezhnaya. He solemnly sits by the window, his icy blue eyes gazing off into the dark winter night of this snowy land.
He often does that, when the night becomes silent and the world is still. Pierro wishes he could dream, yet 500 years of cursed immortality can corrode one’s mind into feeble numbness. Thus, the Fatui Director substitutes his dreamless nights with daydreams of you. Silent fantasies of your voice, images of cupping your jawline, a tender caress to your form. The jester’s daydreams are the only thing keeping him sane, preserving the memory of your skin and love alive in his mind. 
And even if his nights are bleak and dreamless, he would rather settle for maladaptive daydreams. When the Jester gazes at the fake stars of Teyvat, hanging by the firmament as a lifeline, so does he yearn to daydream of you - living in the day just for the memory of your embrace. Alas, only the harsh nights of Snezhnaya are witness to his wistful gazes. 
✧ For Il Capitano, the world is full of battles and wars; conflicts initiated by the ignorant ones, those who care naught for the innocent. Therefore, the only moment of solace that the Captain can afford is in his dreams. Dreams in which his vision is not haunted by the bloodshed of battlefields, but instead by simple dreams of you. 
In those dreams, the world is plain and quiet. He often sees you in it, occupying his thoughts. Sometimes you’d talk and ramble nonchalantly, occasionally he’d see you collecting small chamomile flowers by the grass. Those dreams are uneventful, yet for the Captain, such peacefulness is a luxury he cannot afford. An image of you and him by a quiet valley, a gentle breeze idling by, and having all the time to relish each other’s endless conversations. No thoughts of warfare, only the unwinding sound of your voice.
The Captain is not ashamed to admit he dreamt of you. In fact, he’d candidly say it during the most random of times - “I saw you in my dreams again.”
You’d glance at him and muse - “Oooh, really? Maybe you just miss my company!”
The Harbinger's mask remains pitch black, devout of any expression that might tell whether he reciprocates your little teasing. But besides the occasional clank of chains from his helmet, a low chuckle will escape him. Therefore, The Captain would lean to sit closer to you, his body less tense whenever he is in your presence. Even your silence is a remedy to his soul.
“Perhaps I do. Perhaps I really do.” 
✧ Il Dottore hates dreaming. Sleep, in its entirety, is a redundant form of rest that the human body requires. An utter waste of time. Thus, as a scientist who modified his own body to perfection, it’s unsurprising that he can go on for days without sleep. The Doctor can be efficient with his time, although that’s not why he semi-biologically modified his body. It’s because he hates dreaming of you. 
You are always there in his dreams, along with his younger self. The nostalgic warm sunlight of Sumeru basks onto you, and in those dreams, he sees you in the familiar hallways of the Akademiya. Dottore does not consider those dreams pleasant, since they make him uneasy of the grave past. He doesn’t like seeing himself so simple and young, in his Akademiya uniform. He doesn’t enjoy seeing your tender smile as you clutch your books closer to your chest and lock your gaze with him. He doesn’t like how his dream self always yearns to come closer and embrace you tight. As if young Zandik could’ve held you one more time, and all his troubles would dissipate by the warm sun.
Yet no matter the place or outcome of the peaceful dream, every time that young Zandik tries to reach for your face or seek your lips, you’re always an arm-length away. The hallways of the Akademiya loom threateningly, pulling you further away from him, your warmth becoming unreachable. How naive. He should be better than this. Now he sits up in bed, awake and hands clenched around his hair with trepidation. He hates how his body wants to cry for the memory of you in his dreams. He really hates dreaming.
✧ The fact that Scaramouche even possesses the faculties to dream is what made him the individual he is today. Whether he curses his ability to do so or not, it doesn’t matter. He is no longer the naive Kabukimono he once was, in fact, he doesn’t even require to mimic sleep as humans do. But only you know the truth. During still nights, when the two of you doze off under the warm futons, the Balladeer’s hand would unconsciously grip yours, then followed by silent sobs.   
In his dreams, he sees many events unfold. Sometimes, he sees himself left to live in the squalor like a common critter, discarded and abandoned. Sometimes, he sees the familiar Tataratsuna huts. But more often, he sees you there in his dreams. Back in the warm plains of Yashiori Island, you let him rest his head on your lap. You are dressed in a snug kimono that the fabric's comfort etches onto Scaramouche’s memories eternally. In his dreams, he rests idly in your embrace, by your lap, while you caress his hair. 
Those dreams are delightful at first as if his memories as Kabukimono reinvoke themselves and immortalize the softness of your body and the soothing motion of your hands in his subconscious. But quickly, those dreams shift into agonies. Sometimes, in those dreams, you turn and desert him, while he is left on his dirtied knees to plead for your return. Sometimes, those nightmares show him that it is your heart that can ebb the Tatarigami within Mikage Furnace. And just before he's forced to rip your beating core and relive another memory, he awakes.
“Scara?! Scara…?” - you whispered in the dimness of the night, shaking him awake. “You were crying in your sleep. Another nightmare?”
The Puppeteer said nothing. He lay awake, startled as tears involuntarily streamed down his cheeks. With twitching eyes, he quickly clings around your waist, burying his face against you to conceal his tears. No words needed to be exchanged as his body shook, while you hushed and hugged him. This was the reason why Scaramouche avoided dozing off into sleep ever again.
Regardless of the content of his nightmares, he’d never admit you caressed his hair and soothed him the same way you did in his dreams. 
✧ Pantalone is in bed, restless. Turning from side to side, or readjusting his pillows becomes a futile endeavor to find solace when his bed is lacking you. You are out there, on an expedition, busy exploring Teyvat. Your trip might take another few days, yet Pantalone is alone in a bed that often nestled you close together. Where do your feet take you, the Harbinger ponders to himself. Hence, while you are away, the Regrator is forced to make amends with the bedroom that feels considerably empty, considerably cold, considerably foreign - all because it's missing you. 
In the late, voiceless hours of the night, his dreams blend with his yearning for you. He misses pressing your entire form against his lean body, as it often allows him to fall asleep easily. With you in his arms, chest pressed to another, he knows - you are safe. You are with him. Unfortunately, you are away, and the night feels unwelcoming. For now, Pantalone has to clutch a pillow in his sleep to substitute his feeling of holding you. Even as he sleeps with worry, he hopes somewhere out there, in a foreign land, you are dreaming of him the same way he’s dreaming of you. 
✧ When Tartaglia drifts off into dreamland, his mind is still half-busy with thoughts of you. So much so that his plans blend into his dreams. Thoughts about what he should buy you while he’s away on a mission. Ideas on where to purchase your favorite local specialties. Or perhaps how he should surprise you when he comes back home.
His brain is so enthusiastically occupied with plans to bring you souvenirs, that his dreams come up with countless scenarios of how you’d greet him upon arrival. He’d envision your joyous surprise, endearing pouts, or teasing smiles. And sometimes, if his dreams are more daring, Childe might accidentally dream of some sweet rewards that will leave him waking up in a cold sweat, panting, and body craving. 
Either way, he is rushing back to you the moment his mission is over. His dreams of you might leave him hot and bothered, but your love in real life is much more tantalizing than anything his desperate dreams could conjure up. 
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kitorin · 10 months ago
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in which, itoshi rin expresses his love for you in, peculiar ways.
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itoshi rin is wearily watching his opponent's highlights when you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie.
he almost rips his earbud out by the wire, contrariwise to the soft gaze he gives you, the slight tilt of his head accompanied by a quiet hum asks you what's wrong.
"were you busy? i can ask later."
"'course not." without hesitation he turns his phone off and tosses it somewhere onto his bed. "something wrong?"
you lean against the coffee table, where the two of you were studying; match analysis for rin and unfortunately an infuriating research task for your upcoming exam. your chin rests on both your palms, fingers cupping your own cheek.
"what's your favourite thing about me?"
owlishly, he stares, then blinks. you mimic his actions, waiting for a response.
"i have to pick?"
you nod eagerly. "it feels like a while since i've properly spoken to you. we don't have any classes together and i've been studying during break times. and i keep falling asleep on the bus."
rin nods with understanding. "then my favourite thing about you is that."
"is what?"
"i love watching you sleep."
it takes a lot not to make a stupefied face.
of all answers you expected, it was clearly not that. rin's love languages centred around quality time and physical touch, but he's still fully capable of uttering sweet nothings. which was something you were desperately craving at the moment.
"rin that's so creepy—"
his typical stoicism melts away into bewilderment. "it is?"
oh my god, did your boyfriend have some sort of strange fetish?
"i don't get it." rin frowns. "it's been making me happy recently, why's it so bad?"
"but why's that?"
lithe fingers brush a few strands of hair behind your ears. "you're always so tired recently, it makes me feel at peace seeing you rest. i'm relieved knowing that you're getting a proper break." his aquamarine irises avoid eye contact, pink dusting his cheeks. "i like having you close to me, too."
guilt permeates your gut for having such assumptions. "sorry for assuming the worst, love." your hand cups his, bringing it to your lips for a kiss. "i'm just busy, with exams and stuff, y'know?"
"i know, and i get that. but i don't like the possibility of you collapsing from not sleeping enough, or burning out. and you deserve to sleep and eat properly, they're important for learning and improvement too."
and rin's right, it just feels as though there's not enough time, with so many exams being stuffed into such a little period. there's the fear of failing, falling behind peers and all the efforts you've put in amounting to nothing because of a mistake.
but as he said, rest is important, just as much as working hard. success cannot be attain with one without the other.
you settle yourself onto rin's lap, resting your head on his shoulder, and back against his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "thanks for reminding me, i'm done for today. let's make the most of tonight."
he responds with a small smile, and wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck.
"i must be really pretty then, if watching me sleep is that enjoyable." you throw out an attempt of teasing him, waiting for his reaction.
"nah. your face kinda squishes up on my shoulder."
"wow. okay. i see—"
"your neck also ends up in the weirdest positions so i usually have to move you around to make sure you don't have too much neck pain later."
"very sweet of you, that's enough though."
"did i mention you drool sometimes too?"
"rin—"
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taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz
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© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
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charliemwrites · 11 months ago
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Part 7
Content: Injury and Recovery, Care, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Washing, Self-Blame/Self-Hatred, Codependency
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Hell, Nikto thinks, is not punishment for sin. Not a lake of fire or eternal torture for earthly misconduct.
No.
Hell, he’s just discovered, is the absence of god. It’s the black, empty space where the divine used to shine.
It’s your blood soaking his gloves. The scent of your fear creeping past his mask. The single diamond tear that slipped down your scraped cheek when you told him you’d be okay. Your labored breathing and cracked voice. The scream that echoed, echoed, echoed through the stairwell and into his useless skull, rattling against bone walls and too-fresh memories.
Hell has become a hospital room with blank walls and shiny tile. How does that story go — that the deepest layer of hell is frigid? This hospital may not be dusted in frost, but it’s cold enough. You look small and chilly on the thin cot, entangled in wires.
Alive, despite everything.
You don’t feel alive to Nikto.
You’re too still, too washed out. Even when you nap with him, you tend to twitch, eyes flickering beneath your lids. Flushed with warmth in sleep and peaceful-looking. But you don’t move now; barely look better than you did fresh off the helo, unconscious and still bleeding, bleeding, bleeding—
It’s Nikto’s blood in your veins now. His unworthy, corrupted blood turned holy in the chambers of your heart. It wasn’t possession that made him offer his own arm for the transfusion, but rather atonement. The bare minimum he could repent for his utter failure. To offer up even a fraction of his own life in exchange for yours.
He’s been holding vigil by your side ever since, even if he doubts his place there. Waiting for your awakening to decide. Waiting for your judgment. Like a sinner at confessional, though he knows no Hail Mary will cleanse him.
He’s not even sure if you can this time. Not when it’s you he’s wronged.
The change in your breathing is what alerts him.
His eyes have hardly left you since they let him in. Even when his weak body surrendered to sleep, he would face you, so that you would always be the first thing he laid eyes on. Now, though, he searches your face with earnest, searching for any signs of consciousness.
The squeeze of your eyelids. A light furrow in your brow. Your mouth twists as you groan a bit, head drifting before you get control of your neck muscles.
Your eyes blink open slowly, flinchingly. He gives half a mind to breaking one of the overhead bulbs to ease the glare. But he would never risk the shattered glass over your head, or startling you with the noise. So he shifts and waits desperately for you to adjust.
Then you take a deep breath and focus on the ceiling. Seem to take stock for a moment, confusion smoothing into recognition, remembrance.
You tilt your head and meet his eyes.
“Nikto,” you breathe. The long, long hours of unconsciousness have taken a toll though, and even that causes you to cough. You wince a bit at the pain in your side while he reaches for the little plastic cup of water a nurse left. His name alone has brought you pain. It aches through his bones like condemnation.
You make a breathy noise, struggling to sit up. So he eases closer, supports your back to help you sip little doses from the full cup. It’s room temperature, but he knows from experience it’s better that way.
You don’t fuss when he regretfully has to pull it away, mindful of the instructions the nurses left him with. Lays you back as gently as he knows how as you sigh in relief.
He doesn’t feel worthy of touching you and tries to pull away. But you twitch, catch his wrist with the arm attached to an IV. He freezes.
“Nikto.”
There’s voice to the word this time, not just a dry puff of air. It takes Herculean effort to drag his eyes up to yours.
You look tired.
Tired, but all too aware, all too knowing. Sniper he may be, he knows better than to try to wait you out.
“I’m sorry.”
A thousand unspoken apologies crowd on his tongue. All the remorse he never felt compounded onto this one monumental failure.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Your brow furrows but you don’t interrupt. Don’t try to stop him. Just tug him in to huddle against your uninjured side. Let him prostrate himself over your bed, forehead pressed to your hip.
“I’m sorry,” he babbles, “I should have been better. I should have protected you. I almost— I almost…”
The words jam in his throat and then evaporate. No combination of syllables or sounds will be adequate.
Your nails draw gentle circles on his shoulder, then draw in towards his neck. Slip your hand under the collar of his shirt and jacket, just beneath the various trappings that hide his identity. You find skin. The vulnerable, damp nape of his neck. You lay your hand there, cool and dry.
“I forgive you, Nikto.”
“Y-you—”
“I do,” you affirm, giving him a little squeeze. “And it’s my choice to do so.”
He can barely pull himself away, but he has to see your face. Has to know what unconditional forgiveness looks like.
You’re half-lidded, soft. Eyes warm, blinking slow. You’re relaxed, understanding in every curve of your features. For all the world you could be divinity in repose instead of frightfully human, injured and frail.
“Punishing yourself from now on wouldn’t be noble,” you continue, tilting your head knowingly, “it would be martyrdom. And you are not my martyr, Nikto.”
He has not cried in… well. Long before his mind was torn apart and stitched back together wrong. Doubts he even knows how to, now. But his eyes burn as he presses his face into your hip again and shudders hard.
How foolish. To think he had any grasp of what forgiveness is. To think he understood what atonement was. When the only one who could set the bounds for damnation is you.
“I almost left you.”
“‘Almost’ and ‘would have’ are poison. You can’t convict on an almost. An almost is a warning, nothing to hang yourself for.”
You squeeze his neck again, unfailingly gentle. Unfalteringly steady.
“You stayed. I’m alive. Let’s focus on recovery now.”
He nods, hands clenched tight in the once-smooth fabric of the hospital sheets. It comes away wrinkled, but still clean.
You’re released from hospital two days later.
The wound, while dangerous in the moment, was a relatively easy fix once you had medical care. A clean shot, only just chipping off a bit of rib and grazing your large intestine. Everything is sewn and medicated and healing now. You’re uncomfortable, but KorTac isn’t as stingy with pain management as a normal military outfit — especially not with Nikto looming over your shoulder.
And you, his precious angel, are an absolute trooper.
You let the medical staff poke and prod and peal your bandages without fuss. Sit up with little more than a grimace and a hiss. In good spirits, all around.
Nikto carves your care instructions into the walls of his mind, a New Testament — temporary though it may be. The nurses send you in a wheelchair down to the ground floor, but after that, you’re allowed to walk.
Nikto doesn’t like it. He’d carry you to the edge of the Earth if necessary. But you just wave away his concern and grab onto his hovering arm for stability as you stand. A bit unsteady, terribly uncomfortable, but determined.
He gets you back to the barracks, you cursing with every movement that’s not a smooth step on even ground. Nikto lets you lean most of your weight into him and tries to keep his aching heart steady.
You sigh when you reach the barracks. Let him lay you down and get you comfortable before giving you another dose of pain meds. He busies himself collecting things and rearranging the room.
Making sure there’s not so much as a sock between you and the restroom. Getting your computer, phone, and respective chargers within easy reach. Filling a cup with water and arranging your soft blankets over your legs.
He’s just finished with that when there’s a knock at the door. Konig, delivering a meal. Not just any meal — takeout from your favorite little restaurant in town. Complete with sweets.
You call a thank you to the Austrian, who expresses his best wishes, and then Nikto shuts out the rest of the world again to let you rest. You don’t seem to mind, beckoning him back to your side.
Sharing the food, the blankets and pillows. Get him to set up your laptop with a movie — the meds kick in halfway through, leave you drooling a bit against his sleeve.
Nikto does not care. You may have forgiven him, and therefore it is not his place to repent for this anymore. But caring for you has never been atonement. It is his reward for putting his loyalty where it belongs.
The next day is worse. Your mood has dipped a bit, the soreness catching up. Not that you snap at Nikto or anything of the sort. But he knows you, and can tell from the tension in your body and wincing expressions when you think he isn’t looking.
You brighten a bit when he finally remembers to take his mask off. He even lets you babble when the meds make you fuzzy and overly-complimentary. Nearly falls asleep to you absently mapping the ugly scars that score deep into his hairline.
At some point though, the misery seems to catch up to you.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if I could just… wash up, I guess,” you grumble, looking ready to throw something.
The nurses did what they could, of course, but their focus had been on fixing you and then keeping your wounds clean. Enough hygiene to avoid infection. But you’re still grimy in uncomfortable places and you hate being in bed feeling “icky.”
Nikto instantly sets to work correcting that. He digs out one of his clean shirts, your favorite sweatpants, a soft pair of underwear. You watch him curiously as he takes it all into the restroom. The shower is standing room only, unfortunately — and besides, you can’t get your stitches wet for a while still. But he can at least help you freshen up.
“Come here.”
You take his arm, let him sit you up and then guide you to the restroom. When you see the cloth on the edge of the sink you get a bit misty-eyed. He lets you sniffle for a moment, patient while you wipe your eyes and mumble a “thank you.”
Then he helps you strip to your underwear and sits you on the towel he’s placed on the toilet lid. He kneels and starts from the top, a little dollop of soap on the facecloth and hot water.
You offer up an arm, careful not to overextend, palm up and fingers lax. Nikto works from your shoulder down to your fingertips. Smoothing over bruised muscle, stale sweat, scrubbing away dirt and crusted blood at the nail beds. Rinses the cloth, wipes away the excess soap, and repeats the process on the other arm.
The bathroom is silent save for the falling water and your shared breaths. You tilt your head to let him caress over your neck, down to your chest. He pauses, unsure of his welcome here, but you mumble that it’s fine either way. His touch is perfunctory but careful over your breasts, though he marvels privately at the plushness, the warmth. Politely ignores the way your nipples harden as the water cools in the air. Even if he’s so… so tempted to provide care in other ways.
You don’t so much as twitch; he can feel your gaze upon him from above. Yet he cannot force his eyes away from his work. Each gentle sweep of the cloth feels like restoring a temple, like holy work. Like paying his dues more directly than any church’s offering plate. You are such delicate work, his attention cannot afford to waver.
At your ribs, he starts on your uninjured side. Counts as his fingertips bump along them. You hum when he reaches the soft tissue of your stomach, a little shudder going through you.
“Ticklish,” you explain when his hand jerks back. “I’m alright.”
He feels one side of his mouth tug when he dips the cloth into your navel and you snort a bit. The other side of you is still bandaged, clean and white. No damning spots of red. He avoids the medical tape to get what he can and then continues down.
More bitten off giggles at your hips. He indulges in arching his bare thumb over the bone, just to feel the warmth and silk of your skin. Then continues his work.
He braces your foot on his thigh as he swipes the cloth over yours, minding the pressure on the sensitive inner skin. Over your knee, down to the ankle before switching to the other leg. You lean back and sigh, knock your knee gently into his ribs. When he glances up to see if you need anything, you just smile. Soft and a bit drowsy.
Only then does he scrub your feet, making you twitch and laugh a bit, complaining that he’s doing it on purpose. He’s not, but he likes the sound of your laughter; he thought he’d never hear it again.
He washes the cloth out one more time and helps you stand, lathering circles into your back while you press into him.
You take over when he’s finished. This time he does turn away, though he aches to do so. But your hand is still on his back, using him for support while you finish cleaning up intimate areas.
“Done,” you murmur. He unfolds a towel and turns, keeping his eyes above your head as he wraps it around you from behind.
You hold it up while he pats over you, soaking up any droplets that haven’t dried yet.
Warm and clean(er), your mood seems much improved. He kneels again to help you into a new pair of panties, realizes he’s an absolute fool to put himself so close when you smell only faintly like the shared soap. The rest is you, and you smell delicious.
He swallows thickly and eases you into your sweatpants, split between longing and relief when he stands to put you in the shirt. If you notice the bulge in his own lounge pants, you say nothing — though he doubts you do. You’re nearly asleep standing, almost stumbling as he takes you back to bed. You reach for him weakly and urge him in with you.
“Thank you, Nikto,” you murmur into his shoulder. “Love you.”
And you’ve forgiven him, despite everything. So he allows himself just this one thing — and presses his lips to your temple.
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andvys · 10 months ago
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I'm begging for you to take my hand | E.M.
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Warnings: reader is a single!mom and was dumped by her previous boyfriend, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of heartbreak, Eddie being a bit of a grump but this is pure fluff
Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x fem!single mom!reader
Word count: 4k
Summary: It's a hot summer afternoon when Eddie's life changes for the better, and two very special people step into his life.
Author's note: this little oneshot was based on this reuqest. and I once again have to thank my bestieee @hellfire--cult for helping me out. I worked on this idea back in July and then just abandoned it cause I didn't like the way I wrote it, but Roe threw her amazing ideas at me and helped me out, thank you bby!
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⭐︎
The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, Def Leppard is playing on the stereo, the bottle of beer is cold in his hand as he lies out in the sun, enjoying his free afternoon – life couldn’t be better.
While all his friends are living their ‘perfect’ white picket fence lives that aren't as perfect as they once thought it’d be, Eddie is enjoying his life in utter bliss and peace, with no one disrupting his sleep or his precious free time. 
He is still writing songs, still performing at The Hideout, still living his life while everyone else is busy with their wives and their kids – something that Eddie never saw himself having. He wasn’t cut out for this life and he is content with what he has now. 
He has a good job that allowed him to leave the Trailer park behind, he now lives in a small house in a quiet neighborhood with no kids screaming through the streets and irritating him, at least until now. 
A small giggle disrupts his peace, he squints his eyes open after taking his sunglasses off only to see a little kid running into his backyard, laughing loudly as he escapes the young woman who is running after him. There’s no doubt in him that you’re some incapable babysitter, the distressed look on your face gives it away. 
“Jamie, get your ass back here! This is not our house and you’re naked!” 
“The fuck,” Eddie grumbles, getting up from the lounger he was enjoying the sun on, he puts the bottle down and makes his way over to the boy who runs through the grass in only his blue swim trunks, his curls bouncing as he giggles even louder when the woman gets closer, he isn’t looking where he’s going, and runs straight towards Eddie, who bends down and picks up the boy from underneath his armpits before he can escape further.
A small gasp escapes the boy’s mouth but he then continues his giggling when his eyes find Eddie’s, who is holding him up now, with a distance and an angry look on his face as he stares at the boy who just looks like a copy of him with the long brown curls, and his brown eyes. 
He looks over his shoulder, seeing you from up close now as you rush over to the two of them. He can’t even stop himself from ogling you in your little skirt that barely covers anything and your skimpy bikini top. Your hair is a mess on your head and your sunglasses barely stay in place, you look flustered but so very beautiful and hot. 
And way too young for him and his thirty eight. You can’t be a day over twenty.
“Mommy! He has the same hair as me!” The boy laughs.
Eddie’s eyes almost bulge out of his head at the words mommy. You look way too young to be a mommy, especially for a kid who’s definitely over the age of four. 
You’re not some incapable babysitter, just a stressed mom. 
The kid is squirming in his hold but he reaches out to him, grabbing his curls with his tiny hands, he tugs at it causing Eddie to scrunch his nose up. 
“Hey! Don’t do that, shithead!” 
Jamie keeps going, not caring about the grumpy tone in Eddie’s voice or the angry look on his face, he continues laughing. 
You pant like crazy as you finally halt in front of them, trying to catch your breath. Your chest is heaving up and down, and despite the squirmy kid in his hands, he can’t help but look you up and down, once again. 
“I-I am.. shit..” 
“Mommy!” Jamie exclaims.
You fan your face with your hand, rolling your eyes at your boy. 
“Jamie.. shut up.. for a second,” you mumble, already knowing that you will feel guilty for saying these words to him later on, despite the giggle that falls from his lips. “I-I’m so sorry.. We are – I’m not used to running like this anymore, oh my god.”
“Mommy said a bad word, sir.”
“I heard,” Eddie mumbles. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that he could’ve gotten away further if it wasn’t for this… kind neighbor. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, but when you finally do and you raise your head to look at the man who is still holding your kid, your breath gets knocked out of you again. Not only are you met with the most handsome face you have ever seen, he was also blessed with the prettiest eyes and hair, his pale and toned body is covered in tattoos and you almost drool over the beautiful stranger.
Your eyes move down his body, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie. His lips tug into the smallest smirk and he steps towards you, meeting your wide eyes when you raise your head to look at him with your flustered face. 
You blink, breaking eye contact as you take your kid from his hands. Jamie instantly wraps his arms around your neck but his eyes are glued on Eddie, just like yours are. 
“Say sorry to our new neighbor,” you whisper through your embarrassment. 
“Eddie,” he nods, revealing his name to you. 
Eddie. You repeat in your head, as though you could ever forget his name. 
“Sowwy Eddie!”
Eddie chuckles a little, but shakes his head, raising his eyebrows at you, “new neighbor?” 
“Oh yeah! We moved in yesterday. Sorry if the trucks made a lot of noise…” You say shyly. 
He waves his hand at you, “oh no, I might have been at work at that time, so trust me, I didn’t hear anything, darling.”
Your eyes widen at the nickname, cheeks burning underneath his gaze. You swallow harshly.
Eddie looks down at your hand, instinctively looking for a ring on your finger only to find none. 
“Oh uh, this is Jamie, by the way,” you chuckle softly as you pinch your son’s cheek, before you introduce yourself to him, giving him your name with a shy smile on your lips. 
He repeats your name, making you blush even more when it rolls off his tongue so… prettily. 
“I-I uh.. we’ll get going,��� you murmur as you take a step back, looking down at Jamie who is still staring at Eddie, “I’m sorry again, we’ll see you around.” 
You give him a shy smile before you turn around and walk away, unaware of your son waving at Eddie with a grin on his small face. 
Eddie sighs, begrudgingly raising his hand to wave back. 
He already knows that it won’t be the last he will see of him… or you. 
-
A few days had gone by since he met his new neighbors, and he hasn’t seen you or your boy since then but he heard music from the open living room window the other day and the smell of cookies lingered in the air when he came from work earlier today. 
Eddie is enjoying a peaceful evening out on the porch, playing around with his acoustic guitar as he enjoys the last rays of the sun, the fresh breeze kissing his skin. 
The bushes that divide his backyard from yours rustle, and from the corner of his eyes, he sees the mop of curls. He stops playing and leans back in his chair as he glances at the little audience – the little boy that peeks over the bushes, watching him. 
Eddie can’t help but groan in annoyance. 
“Watcha doin, Eddie?” His soft and small voice cracks Eddie a little, almost feeling guilty for the groan that just escaped him. 
“Playing guitar,” he grumbles. 
Jamie sighs, still staring at the man with his big brown eyes. 
“Can I watch?” He asks, giving him the best puppy dog eyes he has ever seen.
How could Eddie ever say no to someone so adorable? 
“Sure, just stay over there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eddie continues playing, closing his eyes again and goes back to what he was doing – enjoying his evening. He doesn’t realize that after the second song, Jamie starts getting closer and closer, ignoring what Eddie said to him earlier. The little boy sits down on the porch steps, staring at Eddie and the way he plays the song so easily, he watches with awe in his eyes and a bright smile. 
Only when Eddie stops playing and the soft clapping pulls him out of his thoughts, does he open his eyes to find the boy so close. He almost chuckles, of course he didn’t listen.
“Do you know the barney song?” Jamie asks, tilting his head in a cute way. 
“Barney?” Eddie mumbles.
“Yeah!”
Eddie furrows his brows, shaking his head slowly, “I don’t think so, bud.” 
The little boy sighs, frowning and looking down at his hands with a dejected look on his face, one that fills Eddie with the slightest amount of guilt. 
With a sigh, he starts playing a different song, one that he remembers from his childhood. The theme from Ducktales. 
Jamie perks up, he looks at him with wide eyes and a smile on his face, clapping his small hands together again. 
“Life is like a hurricane here in duckberg–” 
Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise when he starts singing, a smile tugs at his lips as he continues playing, nodding at him to keep singing.
His heart soars a little watching that kid – not that he would ever admit. But watching the way his eyes shine with happiness and dimples appear in his cheeks as he smiles even wider fills his chest with a warmth he had never felt before – is that adoration the grump feels? 
“I didn’t think you’d know that song. The cartoon is very old,” Eddie says when he finishes playing the song, he puts his guitar down and places his elbows on his knees, looking down at the curly haired boy. 
“Well, my mom is very old!” 
Eddie chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. 
You are very far from old, he still isn’t sure about your age, but he is convinced that you’re in your twenties. 
“I know the song too, does that make me old too?”
“Yes!” He nods, his curls bouncing wildly. 
“Jamie!” 
Both Eddie and Jamie perk up at the sound of your voice, they both watch you rushing over just like you did a couple of days back. 
Eddie chuckles when he sees you rolling your eyes but sighing in relief at the sight of your kid. 
“Jamie, stop bothering our neighbor!” You groan, softly as you throw an apologetic look at Eddie. 
“But he’s so cool!”
Eddie chuckles, and this time you do too. You stop in front of them where he can see you better – his breathing stutters a little when he sees you properly. Your hair is up in a bun, your glossy lips glowing beneath the evening sun, you have flour on your cheek and your hair, it’s clear that you were busy in the kitchen when Jamie made his escape, Eddie would’ve snickered at the look on your face if he wasn’t so awestruck by your beauty. 
“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” you mumble, trying to smile at him as you take your son’s hand. 
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he smiles, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered when you said his name. 
When you say your goodbyes and you walk away with your son, Eddie can’t help but stare at the two of you, a soft smile resting in his features. 
“Is he my daddy?” Jamie asks, a little too loudly. 
Eddie’s eyes widen and he almost laughs at the gasp that falls from your lips, followed by a loud ‘Jamie!’ He watches the way you turn around, as though to check if he heard it but Eddie quickly averts his gaze to save you from the embarrassment. 
He stares down at his guitar, pressing his lips together. 
The slight fluttering in his stomach that’s already been there when he saw you the first time, now feeling even stronger than before. 
You’re single, you clearly don’t have a husband or a boyfriend. And somehow that makes him feel… relieved. 
That night wasn’t the last he saw of you or your kid. Jamie keeps showing up in his backyard whenever Eddie is outside, whether he’s just lounging in the garden, playing guitar or trying to write a song, the boy comes over all the time, melting Eddie’s heart more and more and sneaking his way into his life, pulling you along, as well. And Eddie can’t help but grow protective over the little boy, enjoying his company and yours. 
While he was annoyed the first few times, he now feels excitement every time the boy shows up with his toothy grin and the curly hair that resembles his. 
Over time, he learned more about you – Jamie’s dad was a drummer in some rock band that Eddie had never heard of, he wanted nothing to do with his child or you when you found out you were pregnant. He broke your heart, dumped you and left you to go through it all by yourself. You were only twenty and you had no one, you were all alone. It’s something that left Eddie seething in anger when he found out, how could anyone do this to you? How could anyone neglect their child? How could anyone not want you and this sweet boy around?
Because he does, he wants you around after only a few weeks of knowing the two of you.
He couldn’t even blink before you both sneaked your way into his heart.
-
It’s a Friday night when the doorbell rings, the sound pulling him away from the book he was reading. He throws it on the couch and gets up, walking over through the long hallway that leads to the front door. He doesn’t expect to find you on the other side when he opens the door, but it’s always a welcoming sight. 
“Hi,” you say softly, blessing him with that beautiful smile of yours, filling his heart with warmth. 
“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles at you before his eyes fall on Jamie who seems to be shying away from him today, hiding behind you. He reaches his hand out to him, ruffling his curls, “hey bud, feeling a little shy today?”
“Jamie wanted to ask you something.” 
Eddie raises his brows, leaning against the doorframe, he crosses his arms over his chest, “oh?” 
Jamie hides even further, peeking out from behind you though as he looks at the man through his bangs. 
You giggle, eyes flashing with amusement. 
Eddie’s heart flutters at that sound and he can’t help but stare at you.
“Come on, bug.. ask him, the worst he can say is no and we’ll get someone else,” you say softly, smiling down at him as you squeeze his hand. 
“No!” He protests, giving you a pout, “I want Eddie to teach me!” 
Eddie tilts his head in curiosity, looking between you and your kid.
“Mommy got me a guitar…” Jamie says shyly. 
“He’s been hooked since he heard you play,” you smile at Eddie.
Eddie’s eyes soften at your words, he looks down at your boy, bending down to his eye level. 
“And what did you want to ask me, bud?”
Jamie slowly steps out from behind you, revealing a band shirt to the older man that instantly lightens up his eyes, the boy takes another step forward. 
“If you… If you can teach me,” he whispers shyly. 
Eddie is stunned and surprised that a small kid likes him in this manner. Eddie is grumpy, a little cold and distant most of the time, something that scares away all the other kids but this little boy took a liking towards him, he wants to be like him, like a mini him. And Eddie’s heart soars at that, he feels pride rushing through him. 
“Alright, I’ll teach you.”
His big eyes widen in excitement and this time, he can’t even hold back, he jumps up and down in excitement before he throws his arms around Eddie’s neck, hugging him tightly as he giggles into his ear – melting the grumpy man’s heart completely. 
And you, you’re a little perplexed that Eddie willingly wants to spend time with him, you always worried that he bothered him too much already, but Eddie seems to be excited, just as excited as your boy is. 
Eddie wraps his arms around his small body, patting his back as he laughs a little. Your heart flutters at the sight of the two of them. 
“Let’s go!” Jamie giggles excitedly, reaching for Eddie’s hand when he pulls away from the hug, pulling the man out of his house, “you need to see my guitar!” 
“Jamie, maybe he’s busy right now–”
“No, no sweets,” Eddie shakes his head, reaching for the keys on the counter before he shuts the door. He keeps holding Jamie's hand as he steps towards you, surprising you by lifting his arm up and pressing his palm against your back, “I wanna see his metal guitar.”
Your breathing stutters and your eyes widen once again when he pulls you closer, making you feel comfortable and safe in his embrace. He squeezes your shoulder when you step closer to him, throwing a smile at him that almost has him weak in the knees. 
Jamie begins to ramble from all the excitement in him and Eddie, he squeezes his hand, smiling down at the boy with a fond look on his face. 
His hand moves down your side and he slowly reaches for your hand, not knowing that this innocent little touch makes your insides tingle with something. He presses his palm against yours, waiting for you to intertwine your fingers with his, and when you do, he squeezes your hand, making his own heart flutter with the action. 
And as Eddie feels your touch like this for the very first time and the tiny hand that tugs at his fingers, he finds himself understanding what his friends meant when they shared their dreams of a white picket fence and a family. 
Because suddenly, as he walks down the street with the two of you, he feels something he had never felt before, comfort and the want and need to protect and care for the people who came into his life and blessed him with… happiness. 
And he becomes a part of your life, like the two of you became a part of his. 
What starts with guitar lessons turns into something more – movie nights, game nights, breakfast at the diner, afternoons at the lake. 
You and Eddie get closer and closer, the pull between the two of you becoming stronger as well. Though you never cross over that line. Not yet. 
Your touches are innocent, so are the glances you throw at each other, but you crave him and he craves you and you show each other just how much weeks later at Jamie's birthday party. Eddie was invited as his best friend. 
The backyard is filled with kids and their parents who all came to the party as well, laughter and chatter could be heard all the way to the kitchen, where you prepare the snacks with Eddie by your side. His arm is brushing against yours, and you keep biting back the smile as you sneak glances at him, watching the way he cuts the fruit with a concentrated look on his face. 
You put down the knife after throwing the fruit into the bowl. 
Eddie was so determined to help you out in the kitchen, he didn’t even let you protest against it.
He doesn’t have to do this. 
He could be out there chatting with Steve who came here with his kids, but he chose to be here with you. 
“Hey Eddie?”
“Yes, sweets?” 
You take a deep breath and walk over to the sink, putting the cutting board and the knife down, you hold onto the edge of the counter. 
“Thank you for being so nice with Jamie… and well, with me too. The sink is fixed again thanks to you,” you giggle nervously, glancing over your shoulder at him to see him walking towards you with a smile on his face, biting his bottom lip. 
“Yeah, well... it’s impossible not to like the little devil… you know what I like the most about him?” 
Your cheeks almost hurt from how much you want to smile when you feel him coming up behind you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him. 
“His mom.”
You start blushing furiously, turning around in his arms to stare at him, despite the flustered look on your face. 
The look in his eyes and the fond smile on his face doesn’t help either, it makes you even weaker. 
“So… a kid is not a turn off for you I suppose?” You ask, looking at him through hooded eyes. 
He tilts his head, “it was before… but then I met my little mini me and you,” he says with his husky voice, pulling you closer against him as his hand moves up your side, playing with the thin material of your dress, “it’s an absolute turn on to see you in momma bear mode.”
You grow even more flustered now, slapping his chest lightly but it only makes him chuckle more and he pulls you flush against him as his face inches closer to yours. He looks down at your lips, he feels the heat of your body against his and god… even that feels perfect enough, he won’t know what to do with himself when he actually gets to kiss you and feel your lips against his for the first time.
“Hmm… Well then you’re lucky that I’m into rockstars.”
His heart skips a beat when you move closer this time, but before your lips could even brush against his, loud footsteps echo through the hallway and Jamie comes running into the kitchen with a plastic sword in his hand and wearing a pirate costume. 
“Mommy! I’m a pirate!” 
Eddie pulls away with a soft groan and you giggle when you’re forced to pull away from each other. 
He looks down at your little boy, a grin taking over his face. 
“You know who I am, bud?” 
Jamie’s curious brown eyes squint at him, “who?”
Eddie grabs the spatula that was laying on the kitchen counter, stepping towards Jamie and going into a fighting stance, putting on his best mean face, “the most terrible and scary pirate in all the seven seas, matey!” He speaks with a deep, dramatic voice. 
Jamie laughs as he runs away with Eddie chasing after him. And you watch smiling fondly, the sight in front of you pulling at your heart strings. 
And you aren’t the only one who’s watching him, Steve is watching him too, amused and a little surprised to see him like that. Eddie had been his friend for almost twenty years now, and not once has he seen him so happy with a woman by his side, let alone a kid. 
He can’t even bite his tongue when he gets a moment alone with him. 
“So… what was that of not wanting kids?” Steve asks him later that night, smirking at Eddie who can’t keep his eyes off you while you’re talking to Steve’s wife. 
“Uh,” Eddie chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “at least the baby part is done with…” He trails off with doubt as he watches you, the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you look so happy, the way your eyes light up when they meet his briefly. His eyes then move down to your stomach, and suddenly he can’t stop himself from imagining you with a baby bump that carries his own child, his heart flutters at the thought. “But maybe…”
Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise when he sees the lovesick look in his best friend’s eyes. 
“Oh boy…” 
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dandylovesturtles · 8 months ago
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I lied
this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.
Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.
I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!
And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3
CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop
btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!
-----
They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.
He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.
He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.
(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)
It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.
Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.
It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.
The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.
He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.
It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.
And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.
Leo.
Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.
But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.
As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.
A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.
"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.
He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.
"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.
"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."
"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"
"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."
"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"
None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.
"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."
Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.
He doesn't know what to do other than agree.
-----
"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."
"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.
"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."
"Read the room, Barry," says April.
Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.
Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.
"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"
Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."
"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."
The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.
Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.
Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.
-----
It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.
Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.
"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"
There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.
They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.
But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.
Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.
He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.
-----
They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.
It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.
But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.
Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.
"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."
"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.
Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.
And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.
Raph ignores it entirely.
He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.
"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."
From the looks on their faces, they all agree.
------
The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.
The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.
Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.
"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."
Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.
Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.
It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.
It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.
"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.
They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.
"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."
"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.
"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.
"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.
Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.
"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.
-----
Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.
"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."
"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.
The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.
"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"
"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."
"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.
April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."
Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...
Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.
But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".
Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"
She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."
So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.
Inmate Observation.
"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.
His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.
He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.
Raph throws open the door and marches inside.
"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.
-----
The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.
April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.
Inmate Observation.
He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.
He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.
He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.
The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.
"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."
"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."
"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."
"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.
"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."
Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"
To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."
It's enough of a yes.
Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.
Bishop hisses but does not cry out.
"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.
"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.
Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.
"Raph don't see him," he growls.
"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."
The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.
"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.
"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."
Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"
"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."
Another shake. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."
Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."
"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."
Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."
Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.
-----
When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.
He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.
But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.
The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.
As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.
And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.
Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.
Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.
For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.
"Leo...?"
He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.
Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.
And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.
Leo is alive.
Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.
"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"
So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.
A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.
Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.
Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.
"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."
A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.
And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.
"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.
"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."
Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.
Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.
The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.
"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.
"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."
He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.
It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.
Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.
"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.
Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."
"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"
"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."
Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.
-----
Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.
When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.
"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.
"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.
"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.
April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.
"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"
"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.
"We're really happy to see you, too."
"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."
"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"
"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."
"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."
"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"
April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."
"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.
"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."
"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.
-----
Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.
Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.
Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.
"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.
"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.
There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.
Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.
"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."
Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.
It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.
They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.
Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.
Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.
Behind them, the door opens.
"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.
Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"
"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."
"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.
"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."
"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.
"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.
"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."
"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."
"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.
"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"
"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"
"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.
"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."
He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"
"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."
Mikey gives him the katana.
"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."
"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.
"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."
"We know more about them than you think."
"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"
"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"
Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.
"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."
"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"
"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."
Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."
It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.
But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.
"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."
There's a smile in his tone as he says it.
"Fire at will."
Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.
But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.
For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.
The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.
-----
They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.
He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.
"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"
That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.
He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.
"L-leo!? LEO!"
Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |
498 notes · View notes
aestheeredie · 6 months ago
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Comfort in your arms
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » » ──────»──────»──────
➳ 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐢 𝐕𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ೄྀ
➳ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ೄྀ
➳ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝟑𝟓 ೄྀ
➳ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲. ೄྀ
➳ 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! ೄྀ
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The front door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of Alexei's footsteps entering the house. It had been a long day for him, filled with the demands of his duties and the endless parade of high-society obligations. You sensed his weariness even before you saw him.
You were lying on your bed, reading a book to pass the time, when you heard his footsteps approaching. The door to your bedroom swung open, and there he was—Alexei, your beloved. His blond curls were slightly disheveled, and his blue eyes looked heavy with fatigue. The sight tugged at your heart.
Without a word, he started to shed his formal attire. His jacket was the first to go, followed by his cravat and waistcoat. He left on just his shirt and trousers as he made his way to you, his movements slow and tired. You closed your book, setting it aside, and opened your arms to him.
Alexei didn't hesitate. He climbed onto the bed, lying down and resting his head on your chest. You could feel the tension in his body slowly easing as he settled against you, his breath warm against your skin. He let out a deep, contented sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.
You gently wrapped your arms around him, feeling the solid weight of his body pressing against yours. His proximity, the warmth of him, was a comfort you had come to cherish.
He looked up at you, his tired blue eyes meeting yours. "Please." he murmured, his voice soft and pleading. He gently grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his head.
Your heart melted at his silent request. You began to run your fingers through his blond curls, feeling the soft strands slide between your fingers. Alexei closed his eyes again, a small, contented smile forming on his lips.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I needed this."
You continued to stroke his hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp. He nestled closer, his head rising and falling with each breath you took. The day's exhaustion seemed to melt away from him, replaced by a serene calm.
"I'm always here for you, Alexei," you said softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You can always find rest in my arms."
He sighed again, this time a sound of utter contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he confessed, his voice filled with raw emotion. "You are my anchor, my solace."
Your heart swelled with love for him. Your fingers never stopping their soothing motion through his hair.
As he lay there, resting his head on your chest, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace. The world outside might be chaotic and demanding, but in this moment, in each other's arms, everything was perfect. Alexei's breathing grew steady and slow, and you knew he was drifting into a much-needed sleep.
You continued to card your fingers through his hair, a gentle smile on your lips. You watched over him, your love for him deeper than words could ever express. And as he slept, you knew that this was where he belonged—safe, loved, and cherished in your embrace.
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hxneyfarm · 1 year ago
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rest
for @steddiemicrofic | written for rest | wc: #387 | rated: t | cw: none
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They both deserve the rest.
Those boys have had such a rough go of things these past few months and now that Eddie’s out of the hospital, they deserve this. 
Wayne feels like he should be taking a picture. He also feels like he should be averting his gaze, intruding on something quiet and intimate, something that’s none of his business.
He gets home earlier than he used to, these days. He gets home sometimes and Eddie’s awake, dark circles under his eyes from the nightmares and insomnia, a mug of coffee clutched in his hand that’s long since gone cold. He gets home sometimes and Eddie’s sprawled on the couch, brows furrowed, sawing logs like the snoring is just the weapon he needs to battle the monsters in his dreams.
And sometimes, Wayne gets home to find Eddie like this: in his bed, curled in on himself in the fetal position with Steve Harrington wrapped around his back. It’s nights like this where Eddie looks well and truly at peace. He looks like he’s never had to fight any monsters, like the only thing he cares about is the warm body pressed to his own, the big hand pressed to his chest as if to monitor the beating of Eddie’s heart.
During the day, when Harrington comes by the trailer and Wayne sees him awake, well… Steve Harrington looks as though he’s having just as hard a time sleeping as Eddie. He looks half dead on his feet, eyelids drooping, jumpy whenever the door creaks on its hinges or a dog barks too loud.
He doesn’t complain, though. Wayne’s never heard him utter a word about how exhausted he is, never once heard him bitch and moan about the work they’ve all been putting in to get the new trailer resembling something like a home for Eddie and Wayne.
Oh, and the way Eddie looks at Harrington sometimes… Wayne would be worried, frankly, if Harrington weren’t so busy lookin’ right back at Eddie the same way.
Wayne can give Harrington whatever shovel talk he deserves… later. After the dust has well and truly settled and those boys figure out what they are to each other. Wayne can have a sit-down with Harrington then.
And until that day comes, those boys deserve a safe place to rest.
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bc you've both gotten on my case for not tagging you in everything i write: @steves-strapcollection, @patchworkgargoyle
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sleepingdeath-light · 6 months ago
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ranpo edogawa smut hcs ; 18+
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requested by ; nobody / self indulgent
fandom(s) ; bungo stray dogs
fandom masterlist(s) ; here
character(s) ; ranpo edogawa
outline ; “smut hcs for ranpo”
note ; may be a bit shaky in terms of characterisation as i haven’t written for this character before, may come back and tweak this in the future…
warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, dominant-leaning!ranpo, mean dom!ranpo, brat!ranpo, food play, somnophilia, praise kink, edging, overstimulation
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
ranpo is a switch by nature but it’s not often that you’ll get the chance to truly dominate him in the bedroom — of course there are times where he wants nothing more than to sit back and be pampered by his adoring dom/domme after a long day of solving cases that everyone else is too stupid to crack themselves, and there are certainly times where he’ll get all whiny and bratty in an effort to get your attention back on him when he feels like you’re neglecting him, but nine times out of ten when you two are being intimate its the world’s greatest detective that’s holding the reins
a lazy lover by nature, ranpo prefers to have sex with you on top doing most (or even all) of the work — ideally this means you riding him in the ‘cowgirl’ or ‘reverse cowgirl’ position while he gets to sit back and take in the view, but if you ask him nicely enough then he can be convinced to spread his legs and let you fuck him with your strap/cock (just don’t expect him to get any more active now that you’re inside of him, if anything he becomes even more of a pillow prince when you do this)
as a dom he can get rather mean, putting his powers of observation to good use by ensuring you never have a moment’s peace when you’re in his vicinity (unless you use a safe word, of course; he may be cruel, but he’s not a monster!) — this usually translates to him teasing the hell out of you in public in ways that are subtle enough to not tip anyone else off about what he’s really saying and doing, but he also uses his intense familiarity with you and your body to edge and deny you in the bedroom until he gets whatever it is he wants from you
as touched upon earlier, when he’s in a more submissive mood ranpo gets extremely needy and demanding of your attention and affection — and if you happen to be distracted by something (or someone) else and he feels at all neglected by you as a result then he’ll turn into a complete and utter brat who can and will make your life a whole lot more difficult than it needs to be until you either give into his demands (ideal for him) or put him in his place (not ideal but still enjoyable enough for him)
he’s a big fan of food play and often goes out of his way to bring home sweet foods that he knows are completely safe for you both to play with — of course there are the standard items like whipped cream or chocolate sauce, but ranpo is much more adventurous than that and is always eager to branch out and test out which new flavour and texture combinations work best with the taste of your release (frankly this is one of the only times where ranpo will be active and engaged in the bedroom, so enjoy it while it lasts!)
ranpo excels at dirty talk because he’s quick to pick up on what gets you hot and bothered — whether you’re more into degradation or praise or if you prefer him to mix them together, whether you get harder/wetter from his voice when he’s whispering his words against the shell of your ear or when he’s teasing you in his normal speaking voice, what you like him to call you and what tone he should use when he’s saying it, what phrases get the best reactions out of you, and so on… all things that he picks up on pretty much the first time you two sleep together and that he continues to make use of for the rest of your relationship
he loves being woken up by you either fucking yourself on his cock or sucking him off after he’s had a wet dream — nothing beats it in his eyes and he swears waking up like that gives him much more energy to deal with the day ahead of him
he can enjoy giving and receiving mild amounts of pain (e.g. playful spanking, leaving hickeys on each other, and some light hair pulling), but refuses to engage in anything more extreme (such as knife play or breath play) — yes he knows how to participate in those kinks safely, and yes he can understand the appeal of those kinks on paper, but he refuses to engage in anything that runs a risk of causing either of you real harm and that’s one limit of his that will never change
ranpo has a massive praise kink and loves hearing you tell him how good he’s making you feel, how amazing he is, how much you love him, and so on — and if you happen to combine it with some begging for his touch (bonus points if it’s for his frustratingly talented tongue or his cock) then you’re all but guaranteed to have an eventful evening ahead of you
because of his intimate familiarity with your body ranpo is extremely good at both edging and overstimulating you, skills that he takes full advantage of when he’s dominating you — e.g. edging you until you say what he wants you to or until he’s bored of doing so, and then overstimulating you until you’re in tears and either clearly too far gone to continue or lucid enough to call the safe word before you get to that point
his approach to aftercare varies depending on what role he was in and how intense your session together was — e.g. if he was submitting to you then he expects to be pampered and will act rather childish and entitled to the ‘princess treatment’ from you, whereas if he was dominating you he’ll remain lighthearted and teasing while also subtly checking you over for any injuries and just generally making sure you’re okay (he might even share some of his snacks with you if he’s feeling nice enough… might being the key word there)
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astraystayyh · 2 years ago
Note
can i get a drabble with any member of your choice (or if you can't choose, i'm actually thinking either jisung/lino👉🏻👈🏻,) where they are just enjoying a nice peaceful morning with you. (maybe after either a passionate or a tense angsty night for a little spice if u want hehe)
5422
Pairing : Han x reader, pre-established relationship.
Genre : Angst, fluff.
I've always wanted to write about Han and this just gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. Hope you'll like it <3
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Fighting with Han is never fun.
You don't even remember what your disagreement was about, you just know that hurtful words were uttered, on both of your parts. And now, you're in the kitchen drinking your fourth glass of water, trying to delay the inevitable moment you'd have to go to your bedroom and face Han.
But it is already 11pm and you have to wake up early tomorrow. So you reluctantly place your glass down and head towards your bedroom. Your footsteps are heavy, and so is the burden in your heart.
You open the door slowly, to find Han already in bed, his back turned towards you. He kept the lights on for you, you realize. The small attention makes you stop in your tracks for a moment.
You quietly place Han's vitamins on his bedside before joining him in bed. There are mere centimeters between your bodies and yet they feel like a vaste ocean, stretching you farther and farther away from each other.
You find yourself missing your hushed conversations, the warmth of his body, and the way his hair tickles your neck when he pulls you closer to him.
But you are stubborn, and so is he. You won't yield first. So you stay put in your place, looking up at the ceiling. You know that sleep won't come easily to you tonight.
You don't know how much time has passed, but you can hear Han shift in his place. He sighs loudly before tapping your shoulder gently. "Come here," he whispers and you bite your lower lip forcefully.
"I'm still mad at you."
"I know. So am I. But I... I need you," he admits in a quiet voice and you feel all your anger melt away.
You inch closer to Han, tentatively resting your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him. It feels safe and familiar, and you almost choke out a sob at the thought of not having him anymore.
"We'll figure it out, right? You're not leaving me," your voice is barely audible and Han's embrace tightens around you.
"Of course I'm not. You're not getting rid of me that easily," he teases and you chuckle lightly, the weight in your heart slowly unraveling, allowing you to breathe again.
When you wake up the next day, you find Han staring intently at you. You bury your face in his neck, too flustered by his intense gaze.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"It's hard to remember why I was angry when you look this pretty."
"Can we not do that again?" you pout, leaning back to look at him properly.
"Yeah, I hate fighting with you."
"Me too."
"We should come up with a code name for when one of us feels too overwhelmed, so we can give each other space," he proposes and you smile at him, "Like what?"
"A random word, like 'potato'."
"So in the middle of a fight you want me to say potato?" you giggle and he puffs his cheeks at you, "I don't know, we'll figure a better code later."
"Yeah? What will we do now?" you smile mischievously at him.
"Right now..." he trails off, his hand gently grazing your cheek, "I will kiss you to make up for all the lost kisses of yesterday."
"All of them? How many are we talking about?"
"5422 kisses." Your anniversary date.
"Isn't that too much?" you giggle and he shakes his head at you.
"There is no such thing as too much when it comes to you."
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seneon · 2 months ago
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SAVIOUR OF NIGHTMARES ──── rin itoshi × fem! reader
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about. in which, a consumer of nightmares saves the delver. made in abyss! au. reader is half-narehate (hollow). ooc rin. kind of fluff. wc of 900+
notes. ( wrote this back in june during my made in abyss hyperfixation ) anyways i love mia and belaf and and and. tagging @sweetheartsaku, @anqelically, @choccorin !!
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nightmares. something that he always has. not even in a blue moon or occasionally, but almost every day. every day of his life the moment he shuts his eyes, it is as if a nightmare demon has favoured him and punctured the idea of horrifying dreams into the mind.
not a single day passes without a single speck of a blood-curdling image just roaming around at the back of his mind, awaiting to display like an inescapable horror movie.
in those nightmares, itoshi rin sometimes dreams of the worst possible outcome of the pit, the abyss. but mostly and the worst of all, his brother. as a delver of the black whistle, he fears almost nothing, except for the end of himself failing to his brother.
of course, you need no fear of being at the level of a white whistle. just like his brother. rin only exists to beat his brother, even if sae has gotten a white whistle a few years ago, rin still did not receive one.
it only meant that rin isn't at that level of his brother yet. his brother who has travelled with the most legendary delvers like ozen the immovable, or lyza the annihilator. rin was tempted to descend into a white whistle.
little did the itoshi know, his dreams and goals would only steer further away from him as his nightmares grew worse and worse every night. even now— as his mind swirled with the darkest days where he had a conflict with his brother. an argument that would change rin to be the way he is.
he still dreams of it until this day. even if the younger itoshi’s inner feelings say otherwise, his feelings of hatred are more prominent than the ones of love and affection. that was how horrible it has become until his hatred has formed into a demon in his mind that vomits nightmares into rin.
the delver shifted in his sleeping mattress, sweat already formed from the anxiety that his mind played through. his closed eyelids would occasionally move, eyebrows scrunching in a sense of pain.
“i can save you from your nightmares,” a feminine voice called through the audio of the horror playthrough, as rin remained silent. “just give me a little love.”
huh?
give who a little love?
who is speaking to rin?
“i can help you tonight, and every other night. you just have to give me your love in return.”
tempting, but extremely suspicious. is this another dream trying to coexist with his nightmare about his elder brother? is this possible? a mysterious voice that blocks out all other noises and only speaks to rin himself.
it doesn't matter, rin needed the hellish punishments of a nightmare to cease at this moment. so he agreed, even if he didn't know how to agree with him, the voice responded to him and he could physically feel as if his dreams were being lifted from the insides of his brains.
then, cold yet gentle fingers touched the skin of the itoshi, gently cupping his face to caress his soft skin. you then leaned down on the sleeping form of the delver and placed a soft kiss onto his lips. pulling away not to be distracted by anything else, you placed your forehead on his as your noses touched.
rin felt a cool air on his forehead. it slowly seeped into his forehead and sunk into his mind, giving his mind a place of peace. it was like all his bad memories and all the nightmares he has to sleep through has been frozen by the cool air just as it was all replaced with utter calmness instead of calamity.
for the first time in years, he finally had peace while his eyes were shut. his eyelids weren't shaking or struggling to keep awake or fall asleep into hell, but they were still and peaceful.
you watched in curiousity at the human male, a delver with a black whistle. you wondered, why is he not a white whistle yet? he is already in such a deep layer into the abyss. someone with his survivor skill is bound to own a white whistle.
at least, that's what you knew from the previous white whistle delvers that you've met along the way. you shifted rin’s messy bangs. but the moment you pull your hands away from his face, he grabs your hand gently.
“is it you? the one who punctured peace into my mind.”
you nodded. “i only consumed your nightmares because you consented to it.”
rin’s teal eyes looked up at your hovering form. still in a sluggish state, he scans your being. he couldn't tell if you are human or a creature of the abyss, for he is only focused on one thing.
“you are so beautiful... ” he said, letting go of your hands to shift them to your face. “you are my saviour, aren't you?”
as a narehate, you felt yourself blushing at the human teenager who held your face in his own arms. his voice and words too, were hypnotising, as if they were coated in honey and you are a bee not resisting them.
this human, a black whistle delver, itoshi rin, he's yours. yours the moment you laid your eyes on him through the force fields of the abyss as you watched him ventured until this layer. it was simply fate that brought the two of you together.
rin was even willing to love you for an eternity and become a narehate himself if you'll prevent and save him from having hellish nightmares. even if you become a white instrument for the male, he'll do anything for you.
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© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.
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ikinremu · 2 months ago
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pls can you write dad's friend Emmett? 😭😭🩷
you’re so real for this anon, ofc i can!! i’ve been wanting to write dbf for SO long and just never got round to it so thank u for giving me a reason to!! honestly really loved writing this, thank you for your request i hope you enjoy!! <3
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LOUSY
dbf!emmett x fem!reader
word count: 2.7k (i got a little carried away😭🫠)
! smut warning !
tags: masturbation, p in v, age gap, praise, dirty talk, light spanking
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Your parents weren't home; Emmett was. That wasn't at all unusual, they often called upon him to keep watch when they were gone. Not that you needed it, your twentieth birthday was coming up soon, it was more for the sake of your little brother - who'd been fast asleep for hours.
You had no doubt he was still locked in a peaceful sleep, his room tucked away at the opposite end of the house. As for Emmett, he was - presumably - where he was typically found: lounging about downstairs with a harsh tv glare in his eyes. By your standards, that was safe enough to permit some alone time.
Carelessly, you tossed your pyjama shorts to the bedroom floor, the sodden fabric of your underwear hanging round your knees as you slipped your hand between the parting of your thighs.
Breathing softly, you gently pressed your fingertips to your clit, tracing supple circles over the sensitive spot as you wasted no time in finding exactly where you required them most.
Slowly, you slipped a finger within the warmth of yourself, followed shortly by the accompaniment of a second. As you revelled in the greatly-needed sensations, you couldn't quite prevent the way your mind began to drift - not that you particularly wanted to.
However you were a little stunted as your brain began to flood with image of someone very familiar, someone you could hear walking around downstairs.
You'd had a sort of 'thing' for Emmett for a while; it was rather difficult to kick it. He was always so pleasant toward you, and annoyingly attractive in many ways. You found plenty logic in blaming this on the fact he was at the house right now, it was the only reasoning you would allow yourself to face.
Your eyelids fluttered together as you focused your touch where you required it most, curling in and out of your soaking cunt as your arousal heightened further by each passing second.
As much as you wished against it, the image of your father's longtime friend was cemented in your mind. Not just the image, the sound of his voice, just.. him.
"Fuck..” You whispered, barely audible, an odd blend of frustration and satisfaction. Your features screwed together as you quickened the pace of your fingers, flicking through the lewd scenes in your mind.
You were long beyond the initial guilt now, coming to accept that the vision of your father's closest friend had your back arching from your bed and arousal pooling between your thighs.
You completely lost yourself in the sensations; and willingly, pressing your heavy head back into one of your bed's many pillows as you squeezed your thighs around your hand.
The rhythm of your breathing was heavy as you set the perfect pace, picking up the speed of your fingers as you murmured mindlessly to yourself. Although this time, the hushed utter of 'fuck' didn't fall from your own lips. At an instant, you snapped your eyes open once more, darting to the only thing worthy of drawing focus.
Emmett stood stationary in the doorway to your bedroom, an unreadable expression painting his features, a tall glass of water in his left hand.
Immediately, you seized the closest blanket to your side, yanking it over your bared legs as embarrassment masked your face, breath caught in your throat as you sat yourself back up on your mattress.
With a single, hoarse sound, Emmett cleared his throat, "I brought you water."
That much was clear, and it didn't exactly help your struggle for words. He took a small step forward, placing the beverage atop your bedside table before tucking his hands back inside his worn-out jean pockets, and you couldn't ignore the strain at his crotch.
You pulled your gaze away, unable to bring yourself to look directly at him, "I was just," You began, although no words seemed to follow.
He chuckled, a slight smirk playing at his lips as he failed miserably to diminish it, "Somethin' got you worked up?"
You felt your face grow impossible warm at his words, caught entirely off guard as he observed you from beside the table he'd planted the water atop, bedroom door clicking shut behind his back.
You peered up at him, still apparent of the slick between your thighs as you noticed amusement ghosting over his face, observing the way you processed his words.
Before you were able to conduct some form of answer, Emmett lay out another question, inhaling deeply before, "You ever been fucked before, sweetheart?"
Your stomach fluttered, the question leaving you taken aback as you gazed up at him, cheeks burning with pure, undiluted heat.
"Yes." You managed, battling to keep your gaze trained with his own.
You'd had sex before, a few times, with old boyfriend's who'd since been cast astray from your life. It was.. nice, sweet.
Emmett's gaze bore into you, and suddenly his thumb was brushing swiftly over your face, lifting your chin as his eyes explored every last inch of your flustered face.
"Properly?" He firmed, the pad of his thumb callous against your skin, "Not some lousy shit."
You breathed deeply. 'Lousy' wasn't exactly the word for it, though it certainly hadn't been perfect.
Ultimately, you shook your head, arousal only heightening with the feeling of his touch against your skin, "No."
He stepped even nearer, barely any distance separating the two of you. His mind was whirring, that much you could deduce, the warmth of his palm against your skin making you shudder.
There was a short pause, and you were sure it felt far longer than it truly was.
His voice was a low, deep whisper as he stared intently down at you, running his palm over the back of your neck, "I can show you." He spoke, "You gotta want it, but I can show you."
You couldn't quite believe the words as they escaped his lips, the situation simply felt more absurd with each word. However there wasn't so much as a shadow of a doubt in your mind; you wanted it. You needed it.
"You want me to show you, baby?" He asked, offering your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
You returned a rather frantic nod, practically blurting out, "Yes."
Emmett exhaled at your words, swiping his palm from your shoulder as he murmured something inaudible beneath his breath. His hand crept slowly behind your neck, suddenly bringing your lips crashing against his.
He began only gently, purposeful in his restraint as he moved his lips against yours, sliding his tongue between your lips as the embrace grew hungrier.His mouth never disconnected from your own, palm caressing the back of your neck as he joined you on the bed.
"Fuck.." He mumbled against your mouth as his frame loomed over you. His lips shattered the kiss, his chest heaving as he met your gaze with clear intent. Abruptly, he seized the strewn over blanket from your legs, yanking it off and exposing your naked legs.
Emmett let out a low, somewhat shaky groan, cursing to himself as his eyes fell to your bare, glistening cunt as he discarded the blanket to the wooden floor.
You felt the cool air strike your skin as you inhaled. feeling the heat of his gaze burn into you.
"Jus' look at you." He groaned, his thick, skilful fingers creeping up your legs, seizing your thighs and parting them further, "Sweetest little cunt."
Your hips bucked up as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, teasing you with the gentle pressure.
"Please.." You mumbled, desperate for the friction you'd broken mere moments ago.
Your plea had Emmett's cock twitching inside the confines of his jeans, aching to fulfil what you so blatantly craved.
"Please what, honey?" He coaxed, snaking his hands to the zipper of his jeans, tugging the metal down as you watched through a heavy gaze.
He tucked a hand into one of his two pockets, quickly retrieving a small, square packet. You breathed deeply beneath your pyjama shirt as you watched him pull his boxers down, soon stepping out of his jeans as he freed his hard, pulsing cock. 
You expelled a shaky exhale, full of anticipation as your gaze met with the head of him, his fist wrapped around his bare shaft, pumping at a torturously slow rate.
"Please, fuck me.." You whispered, toying with the bedsheets beneath you as Emmett ran his digit over the slit of his tip.
"Shit, sweetheart." He chuckled amidst a hoarse sound. His eyes trailed down your body, intoxicated by the sight of your sopping cunt, "Up for me."
You nodded, finding zero hesitation in altering your position. You knelt comfortably upon your mattress as he studied your frame, bare from the waist down.
"I want you on all fours, ass up, honey. Can you do that for me?" He murmured, tearing the little papered square between his fingertips, pulling out the condom and rolling it down onto his length as you positioned yourself on all fours, eagerly awaiting Emmett's action.
Unable to resist the sight, he grasped your backside, running his hands over the exposed flesh as he spread you before him, holding you there for a few short moments before releasing his hold. He planted one firm smack to your bare ass, drawing a soft whimper from your throat as your body jolted forward in response.
"Think this little pussy needs to be fucked, huh?" He teased, palm surrounding his length as he angled the thick of his tip to your entrance. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you felt him drag his head up and down your drenched slit, "How bad d'you want it, sweetheart, tell me."
You pushed your hips back against him, whimpering softly as you felt his tip taunt your clit, back arching before him, "Please, Emmett.. I need you."
Hearing his name leave your lips only wound him up further, cock impossibly hard in his grasp as he let go, sliding inside your drenched cunt, "Just need to be fucked right, huh baby?"
A loud, satisfied moan escaped your throat as he entered you, filling your needy cunt with one swift motion. You nodded through a quiet whine as Emmett landed his first thrust, hips smacking against your arched ass with a taunting thrust.
"God, you feel incredible." He whispered, voice gruff and low as his skin collided with yours.
And so did he. His cock fit so perfectly inside you,reaching right where you desired him most. You pushed back eagerly against him, desperate to bring him as deep as possible as he began to thrust against you. His palms were somehow both warm and rough as they slid up your waist, assisting in the way he rocked against you.
"Y'gonna let me ruin this sweet fuckin' pussy?" Emmett taunted, smacking his pelvis against your own as he groaned hungrily, practically grunting with each thrust reaching deeper and deeper.
You nodded, "Yes, fuck!.."
He heaved, feeling your walls clench around him as he pumped into you, his voice laced with gravel and amusement, "What would your dad think, huh doll? His friend fuckin' you stupid while hes not home?"
The taunt shot down your spine like a rush as your body responded to him. As much as it shouldn’t have, it only made the situation more exciting. Despite wishing that wasn’t the case, you couldn’t deny the thrill of how wrong it all was - so wrong.
Emmett’s cock was stuffed firmly inside you, hitting repeatedly at your sweetest spots as you moaned for more.
And he was equally as wound up, satisfied sounds pouring from his throat as he picked up his pace.
"Oh you like that, hm?" He teased, inebriated by the sensation of your pussy squeezing him desperately in response to his words running through your body.
Suddenly Emmett pulled back rather slowly, his length leaving you entirely. You exhaled, head turning back in pointed confusion, shooting a furrowed brow in is direction. With an equally heavy exhale, he chuckled, seizing your hips and flipping you over as though it took no effort, settling your backside at the edge of the bed with your thighs parted for his access.
One hand took ahold of your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly as he stared down at you, his opposing hand guiding himself back between your legs, "Need to see that pretty little face while I fuck you, sweetheart."
His words trailed off as he pushed himself back within the warmth of you. Once more, you jaw fell open in an airy moan as Emmett resumed his pace between your thighs immediately, thumb digging into the crook of your jaw, "So needy.."
Your back arched drastically as he bucked in and out of your drenched pussy, filling you at a flawless rate as your palms slid up the broad of his back, scrunching into his worn-out t-shirt as he grunted.
"Such a dirty girl, letting me use you like this, huh?" He taunted, "Letting me fuck this pretty pussy while your parents aren't home.”
You flung your legs around his bucking hips, allowing him to strike your g-spot as you babbled.
“Yes..” You uttered, thighs trembling either side of him, overwhelmed with pleasure as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, growing louder by the moment.
"Attagirl." Emmett praised, eyes shutting for a brief moment as his hips pumped back and forth between your thighs, grasp sliding under your legs as they surrounded his pelvis, "Quiet for me, doll, don't wanna wake your brother up."
You nodded, suppressing your pleasure to the very best extent you could manage, though it became increasingly difficult as your satisfaction built.
"Emmett.." You mewled through your attempt at hushing yourself, composure continuing to escape you.
"I know. Jus' what you needed, huh? My cock stuffed in this needy little pussy." He teased through another low chuckle, quickening his pace once more.
Cursing under your breath, you nodded in response as his thrusts had your thighs weakening around him.
Without warning, his palm came down on your ass, providing a quick strike, following with a tender squeeze of the area he’d just hit, gripping greedily at your flesh, "Fuckin’ take it, that's right."
With a heaving chest, you jolted at the repeat of a stinging sensation landing on your behind, your upper-thighs coated with your own arousal.
"Shit.." You whined as Emmett struck repeatedly at your g-spot, palms possessive across your backside as he rocked your hips against his every thrust, bringing you nearer and nearer to orgasm.
"I know, honey, can feel you getting close." He teased as his length twitched inside you, surrounded by drenched warmth as he slid in and out of your sopping cunt, "Y'wanna come on my cock?"
You simply moaned in response, nodding subtly along as Emmett gripped your backside possessively, pulling you against each thrust he planted inside you, "Fuck, yes."
"Shit, gonna make me come, baby." He panted, "Give it to me, sweetheart, come on my fuckin' cock."
You let out a strained, rather needy moan, your breathing rapid as your orgasm crashed over your body, legs trembling as you clenched around his shaft, his pace getting sloppier as he got closer.
"Mm, so pretty when you cum, baby." He smirked, landing one final thrust deep inside your cunt as his own release struck, cursing through gritted teeth as he pulsed, "Fuck-"
Through low, rough grunts, he came undone, bringing a single hand to the angle of your jaw, cupping the crook firmly as he ran his thumb back and forth over your neck.
He pressed his flushed forehead against your own, "That better?"
A sweet smile tugged at your lips as he brought your mouth to his once again, his length still nestled comfortably between your thighs as his lips worked in unison with yours.
The embrace was far more tender this time around, rather satisfying as he soothed you down from climax, your mind whirring at an impossible rate - completely specific to one idea; you hadn't the slightest clue how either of you were to act when you next saw one and other.
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Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Your support means the world to me! I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3
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kytrisz · 1 year ago
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Are you happy? | Matt Smith
| pairing. matt smith x reader  
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It's been a while since you and Matt, your boyfriend for quite some time now, spent time together. Due to his project, which has kept him gone for nearly 6 months, and your hectic schedule, the two of you have had little time for each other. So being together now is quite a new fresh air in the relationship.
Both of you book a stone house in Italy countryside to get away from everything else, as he said "everything felt too fast-paced", which you have the same sentiment with.
During your stay, you did a lot of activities together to compensate for the time being apart for so long. You went for a walk in the forest, had picnics in the backyard, gazed at the stars at night, and even rode your bikes down the street. Everything felt peaceful, everything is perfect, 
well almost...
You're currently laying on the couch after returning from dinner at a restaurant near the house that Matt reserved for you. It was a great spot, with delicious cuisine and beautiful scenery. Making your heart thump lightly when you realize how well Matt knows you.
You snuggled against his chest, listening to his breathing and the beat of his heart, while his fingers write things in your back you don't understand.
As you were about to slumber way to sleep, you felt him grumble as if he was saying something.
"...hmmm?" you asked, carefully placing your chin on his chest as you looked at him, more like catching him staring at you. Where his chocolate eyes are fixed on you and nothing else. Making you feel butterflies on the inside. He always never fails to make you feel special, as if you're a treasure he wants to keep.
"Did you say something?" you asked softly, staring at him with wonder.
It took a minute of silence and staring before Matt let out a chuckle, putting his hand on your head to caress it, "How long have we been together, love?"
"It's almost what, 3 years now I guess," you murmured, then realizing, "3 years... Matt!" you cried, surprised at how long you and Matt had been together. Startling him, who is below you.
"We've been together for 3 years! 3 years! I felt so old now," you chuckle.
"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" Matt jokes, after all, you guys have quite a big age gap.  And it's no secret among the general public, who are constantly making comments about it.
Letting out a small chuckle you lay again to snuggle to his neck and mumbled "That's true", laughing alongside him.
A moment of silence enters again, only your breathing and his can be heard in the room along with the two hearts beating in sync.
As your breathing turns to shallow, and your eyelids begin to drop, you felt yourself detach from reality and began to fall asleep.
But just as your eyes were about to close, you heard Matt utter something that threw you off guard. 
"Are you happy to be with me, love?"
"... "
When you didn't answer, Matt glances down to give you a soothing smile. "You don't have to answer, my love," he sighed, but you can hear the shakiness in his voice.
Staring at his chocolate orbs as if looking for an answer, you finally replied "Sometimes..."
You watched him arch his brow, looking a bit confused but mostly bothered by your answer. He may not say it, but you know he always beat himself up for not being present in your relationship.
"Because you annoy me a lot," you said seriously but failed as he poked your sides and laughed.
"But seriously, I do." fixing your gaze on his "I'm glad I spent my last three years with you."
"Why?"
"Hmm, what do you mean why?" A bit confused by his question.
"Why are you happy being with me?"
You saw in his eyes filled with contemplation, bother if he should take back what he said.
Sighing, you pull yourself up and straddle his waist. "Well, I'm happy being with you because even though we're miles apart, you never fail to make me feel alone. You always try your best to call me and even text me when you don't need to. You even do things that you don't even like because you know it makes me happy! But do you know what truly makes me happy?"
"Hmm?" 
"I'm happy because you love me," you grinned, leaning forward to touch his forehead and caress his cheeks, "and I'm happy because I love you"
And through your answer, Matt smiled at you with contentment, and all the worries you saw in his eyes finally washed away.
"I love you so much, Matt, more than you can imagine," you said solemnly.
Looking at you adoringly, he replied, "And I love you so," placing a hand on your head to lower you and plant his lips into yours.
At that moment, time appeared to stop and the world faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little universe with your hearts dancing to the rhythm of their symphony. 
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animeyanderelover · 8 days ago
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Request: Can I request for Illumi, Pakunoda, Kurapika, Feitan, Pokkle from HXH and Aki and Makima from CSM with a tragic darling? Who was cursed to have a miserable and devastating existence? Who is forced to go through horrifying tragedies over and over again? And is destined to die a horrific and miserable death either by outside force, or the yandere themselves killing them and has no way to stop it?
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, overprotective behavior, paranoia, isolation, abduction, violence, mentions of darling's death, suicidal behavior
Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @hyakki-yosai
S/o is cursed with a miserable life
Kurapika Kurta
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⛓️​It is your curse that has bought you into the clutches of Kurapika but even as you are stuck with him, your life doesn't end up being safer or more peaceful. Tragedies and accidents haunt you no matter where you hide or run to and the curse bestowed upon your life pushes Kurapika's mind quickly over the edge. His own sanity deteriorates at a rate he would have never expected as he fails over and over again to protect you from the fate that is inevitable for you. He doesn't believe your words, doesn't believe that an early death is the only outcome for your life. His eyes glow a scarlet red whenever you even utter those words as he blames you for having given up far too easily. His hunt of the Phantom Troupe is joined by a desperate pursuit for an exorcise who can remove the curse that has been cast upon you yet he is plunged into dark despair whenever they fail to shatter the fate that gets closer every day. The paranoia festers into an untamable beast as his hold on you tightens, his fear growing that one day you will slip through his fingers and he will lose you forever. Hatred, desperation and fear burn his eyes red, a colour that will forever stay with them the moment your fate catches up with you.
Pokkle
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🏹​It is obsession that ties Pokkle forever to you yet he has been hurt more times than he has experienced the bliss that he once daydreamed about would come with a life with just the two of you. Your fate is one of suffering and heartbreak, your time on this earth limited. Pokkle has been witness to so many horrifying accidents and tragedies you have gone through and has never left any of them without bruises and scars all because he always shields you with his body to ensure that nothing happens to you. Mentally and physically he is shot. His hair is tousled, heavy eyebags rest under his eyes and he is constantly covered in bruises and wounds all because he is more than just desperate to protect you. At night he is too terrified to even sleep, dreads that you will pass away if he allows himself even a minute of rest. His emotions are all over the place, his sleep-deprived brain unable to function. In one moment he is sobbing in your arms that you can't leave him, in the next he's chaining you up with a hysterical look in his eyes. The moment everything happens as you have always known, he will fall into a deep depression where he will neglect himself until his weak body gives up on him.
Illumi Zoldyck
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🤎​Illumi is someone who believes himself to be in the right to own you and control you. It is the very curse of your existence that threatens this claim that he believes himself to have. You are kept separated from the rest of the clan much like Alluka as tragedies of yours should not befall the rest of the family. Only the butlers are there to protect you from yourself and only Illumi is the one who is allowed to converse with you at all. He denies you even the freedom of speaking that everything will be useless in the end as there is on force on earth that could save you, punishes you for speaking those words. He searches everywhere for an exorcist who will be able to release you of the curse you are in yet one after the other lets him down, their constant failures only being paid with their death in return as their existence is from that moment on of no worth for Illumi. Unable to control your life like he normally always does with his needles, Illumi finds himself filled with emotions that have his focus wavering, something that has never happened before. The moment you are no more he will move on with his life yet the memory of yours will be from that day on the curse haunting him.
Feitan Portor
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☠️​There nothing to be gained from keeping you yet it is your defeated mindset that agitates him more than anything. It is clear that you have already given up and resigned yourself to your fate yet for Feitan this won't do. You are not allowed to wallow in self-pity whilst putting him through so much trouble. He will make you suffer somehow and if it is the last thing that he will do. Feitan refuses to give you over to your cursed fate, rebells against it as he hunts down everyone who may be able to break you free from the life that you are otherwise doomed to live. His patience is of no saint though as all threads snap whenever a failure happens and he lets out his growing frustration on those who failed his expectations. You are his. You are not allowed to die an early death that he has no control over. You aren't supposed to die already. The agitation, the helplessness, that he is put through as he slowly has to understand that there is indeed seemingly nothing he can do is guaranteed to drive him mad. Perhaps ending your life through his own hands is the only way for him to exhibit a semblance of control over your existence. It will not bring him any joy though. Only a memory to forever torment him.
Pakunoda
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💘​Denial will not bring you very far nor will it bring Pakunoda very far. She is quick to understand that there is nothing she is able to do after trying and failing to figure out a way or to find a person who could ensure your survival. Even with all the connections and information that she has with her own Nen abilities as well as the Phantom Troupe there is nothing that she can do nor is there anyone else out there who could do anything to help you to lead a normal life. It is this knowledge that breaks her heart. The moment she accepts that though she decides that there is no reason for her to hold back with her own obsession. Time is ticking for you after all and it is ticking fast which leaves her with no time to take everything slow with you. Your own cursed fate leads Pakunoda to the decision to not hold anything back at all and to indulge in you as long as there is still time. She will not be denied the fleeting time that you have left on this earth. She herself comes to the conclusion that she will end your life at the end herself, giving you perhaps the most merciful death that you could have gotten. She will never be able to move on nor will she allow herself to do so though.
Hayakawa Aki
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💙​Perhaps it is his own cursed fate that has led him to find you and has also guided him to fall in love with you. Aki's own life is marked with nothing but tragedies and failure so your fading existence seems to be the cherry on top of everything. What was he thinking, believing that he could do something right with the only person he has ever loved as intensely? Your past, your present and your future all shatter him as the facade he tries to put on so desperately around you shatters. Deep down Aki is after all still a boy who has never gotten over the pain of losing his entire family in one flashing moment. No words could describe what he is feeling as he sheds tears of frustration and fear, unable to breathe properly as he clings to you. Is this really it? Is this how your life is going to end? Is this how his life is going to end? Without a single memory that can be just happy without the stain of death and sorrow? Aki comes to genuinely hate his existence and curse whatever gods exist up there for putting him through so much, for the fact that they will even take you from him. The only thing he can do though is focus on his revenge after you are gone until he too will die full of misery and regret.
Makima
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⛓️​What an anomaly you are. Makima is the Control Devil, the entire premise of her very existence is that she is the conductor who manipulates everyone. Yet she cannot control you. Your life is slipping right through her hands like sand as she can't hold on to it as you are cursed to die live and die in misery. In a way you are the very embodiment of everything she wants to get rid of as a world without pain, curses and death would be the ideal world for you. As of now she still hasn't achieved that goal of hers though and your time is ticking away. Still, she expresses no visible sorrow or grief even though she knows all about your fate. She doesn't know what it feels like after all, unable to react emotionally. Instead she searches for ways to keep you alive even if she has to use nonorthodox methods that might destroy the very core of your humanity. You will dangle within her chains one way or another and she doesn't care what methods and sorcery she has to resort to. She almost revels in the sensations she feels once you pass away though her goals aren still the same. She preserves your body, keeps it as she waits for a chance to bring you back. She will not tolerate her loss of control over you.
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nina-ya · 1 year ago
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Patching up Luffys Wounds
Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo Pairing: Luffy x GN!Reader CW: Burn mentions. WC: 1098 You are peacefully seated on the deck of the Sunny, engrossed in a book, with Robin keeping you quiet company while she reads her own book. The weather is blissful, and the ocean stretches out as far as the eye could see. It is one of those serene days at sea where nothing threatens your tranquility. As you start to doze off, the gentle sway of the ship lulling you to sleep, your peaceful slumber is abruptly shattered by a deafening WHAM! The noise catapulted you back into the realm of consciousness, disoriented and perplexed. Your drowsy eyes darted around, seeking the source of the disturbance, you hear Sanji’s furious voice coming from the kitchen. Infuriated shouts, accompanied by a flurry of french obscenities, fills the air. Your curiosity leads you to the chaotic scene unfolding in the kitchen. As you step into the kitchen, a truly astonishing sight greets you. Food was scattered across every inch of the kitchen, floor to ceiling. Sanji was in a state of outrage, his culinary masterpiece reduced to an utter mess. His yelling is directed at no other than Luffy. You quickly connect the dots and realize that Luffy is the culprit behind the ruckus. The idiot tried to use his abilities to grab some food from the other side of the kitchen and had made a severe miscalculation. As a result, his hands are now decorated with painful burns.
You can’t help but stifle a laugh at the spectacle in front of you. It was clear that you need to intervene to prevent further chaos. Without hesitation you push your way through to Luffy. Luffy was booth whining in pain and complaining about hunger, and you practically have to drag him to the infirmary. The journey to the infirmary is not an easy one, but you manage to get him into the infirmary and coax him to sit still for a moment.
“Luffy, what exactly happened in there?” you aak, genuine curiosity in your voice.
HIs embarrassment is evident as he replies, “I just really wanted to taste what Sanji was cooking, and he wouldn’t let me! So, I took matters into my own hands and well… yeah…” With a sigh, you inspect his injured hands, the pain evident as he whimpers out in pain. “Ah, Luffy, you really are something else, aren’t you?” you say, shaking your head with a smile. “It’s like you’re a magnet for trouble, always diving headfirst into things without a second thought.” “Of course I think! Just like I did now! Sanji said no, so i thought, ‘Hey, I’ll just do it myself!’” He flashes you a grin. An amused smile graces your lips as you carefully apply some cream to soothe his burns. “Well, for now, you can think about sitting still and letting me wrap up your hands. That way, you can go back and try again, but maybe don’t miss this time, alright?” Luffy bursts into laughter. “I won’t miss next time, and you know what? I’ll get enough to share with you too!” You blink in mild disbelief at the unexpected offer. “Did you somehow hit your head too? I know you did not just offer me some of your food.”
With a shake of his head, Luffy playfully emphasized, “Nope, everything is all fine with the noggin,” he moves to knock himself in the head with emphasis, but you intervene, preventing him from causing more harm to himself.
“I’ll believe you once Chopper checks you out,” you respond with a teasing grin.
You turn your focus to bandaging his hands, and you gently take one of them in your own. As you wrap up his hand, you can’t help but notice the battle-worn scars that adorned his hands, like mementos of his countless adventures. “Why are you just staring at my hand?” Luffy asks suddenly, his grin from earlier still in place.
You finish up the first hand and start to wrap the other when you respond. “I was just looking…” you pause your bandaging to point out a particular mark on his hand. “Hey, do you remember how you got this scar?”
Luffys’ gaze follows your finger, and a wide, nostalgic grin spreads across his face. “Yeah! We were sparring and you were showing me this cool trick with a sword and you managed to land a hit right there. I say we should spar again.” His stomach rumbles, and he laughs. “After I get some food of course!”
You smile at the memory that the scar brings as you continue to wrap up Luffys’ hand. Out of the blue, his voice breaks the silence as his attention shifts to your hands. “Your hands are small,” his voice is soft and pensive. His gaze is locked on your hands and he seems to be captivated by it, a look of curiosity in his eyes. You finish wrapping his hand, and he extends his hand to touch yours. “See? Small…” he murmurs, his fingers slowly interlocking with yours, an infectious laugh escapes his lips as his eyes meet yours.
A smile graces your lips as well. “Yeah, they’re pretty small I guess.” A brief silence falls between the two of you as your intertwined hands feel each other's warmth. You decide to break the quiet moment with a cough and comment, “So, uh, it looks like you’re good to-”
Before you can complete your sentence, Luffy springs up from his seat and starts sprinting toward the kitchen, your hand held securely in his grip. He shows no intention of letting go soon. You can’t even get another word in before he declares, “Perfect! I’m gonna go get my food, and you’re coming with me, and I’ll be sure to get enough to share with you!”
Share? This is the second time he has mentioned sharing; does he mean it? His unrelenting grip around your hand only adds to your questions. Why is he not letting go? Why does he insist on holding my hand like this?
In the midst of being dragged to the kitchen, hand in hand with Luffy, you can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through you. These simple actions speak more than any words can say. You can’t deny your growing affection for the Captain through his story of unspoken feelings. As you venture towards the kitchen, you start to realize that this is just one page of the storyline you and Luffy share. Perhaps this is the beginning of a whole new chapter, and you are absolutely elated to see where this leads to.
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ateez-himari · 2 months ago
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[241031] DORM LIVE
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● 여상 is live on POP now (11:29 PM)
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● 92,390 active viewers
[While two of the roommates introduce the furnished living room, their maknae walks in wearing her boyfriend's boxers and a loose sweater suspiciously identical to the one her brother left on his studio chair, waving to the camera while holding a box of Pepero]
H; [Signing to Yunho] "Do you need me to make dinner ? I think we have enough for sundubu jjigae and jjapaguri"
YH; [Signing back very slowly] "Sangie and I ordered some from the place down the street, we got you your favorite. I think it'll be here in about 15 minutes"
[With a nod she takes a seat on the couch while the oldest dormmate sets up the game console, resting her head on Yeosang's shoulder to read the comments]
H; I'm glad you guys like the furniture...I had to drag them out to get some because it was just empty space, a massage chair and protein powder
YS; Maybe if you used some of that protein powder you would've been able to lift the boxes by yourself...just saying
[She stares at him blankly before biting him, causing the phone to fall]
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[Yeosang flips the camera to his roommates as the vocalist sits in a rather strange position, legs kicked up against the back pillows of the couch and head hanging from the edge while watching the spiderman gameplay]
YS; What is even going on...are you a bat ? Are you trying to be Spiderman ?
[After registering that he was addressing her, Himari proceeds to make the character's hand gestures before gently throwing a pillow instead of a web, which unfortunately lands right on their friend's face]
YH; Can you turn off the camera for a second...I don't want Atiny to see this
[As Yeosang goes back to speaking with their fans, squeals can be heard in the background along with two pairs of feet running around the apartment]
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YS; This is ATEEZ in their natural habitat...well actually it's a rare sight to see in this dorm, usually Hima would be working on something
[Yunho is too concentrated on the game to hear what is going on around him and Himari is laying against his thigh, legs resting on Yeosang's while texting. Seconds later her finger slips on the sound button and a loud voice message of Jungkook screaming 'fuck' plays before she hurriedly cuts it off]
H;[Imitating Dr. Strange's hand movement]...Ah Dormammu
YH; Do you think the staff is watching our live this late- ?
H; I mean they can't fire me either way...right ? Everyone, it was Jeon Jungkook, my mouth would never utter such mean dirty words, he's a delinquent
[Yunho clears his throat very loudly, leading to the maknae slapping his thigh only for him to drop his controller and begin tickling her as Yeosang turns the camera back to himself, posing cutely to distract viewers from the chaos in front of him]
YS; Hahaha...we love each other very much Atiny, ATEEZ is always peaceful these two just have no idol image
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[Himari is on the phone with Hongjoong on speaker while she paints her nails and Yunho speaking to Atiny to let Yeosang braid her hair]
HJ; I'm gonna go out for dinner Himi, don't forget to do your rehabilitation exercises, I haven't seen you do them yet
H; Haha, you're stalking our live ? I'll do them in a bit, love you oppa, goodnight
HJ; Love you too, eat well alright ? I sent you some dessert
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[Himari is finishing up her rehabilitation exercises while talking to the fans as her roommates set up the freshly delivered food, something catching Yeosang's attention as she moves around slightly]
YS; Are you wearing underwear (boxers) instead of sleeping shorts ? Where did those come from ?
H; I dunno...I can ask Mingi where he bought them if you want, the brand might be on the waistband actually, let me check
[As she starts to pull the hem of the sweater up in order to see the boxers clearly, the two members stop her in a panic]
H; Oh but when you guys strip on stage it's fine huh-
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[After a rather filling dinner, the maknae lays down on Yunho's back as he scrolls on his phone, resting on his stomach and barely flinching at her weight]
YS; She's like a big cat, she can't be without physical touch for more than 10 seconds especially when she's tired. Apparently Yunho is subject to mattress testing today
[Letting out a loud yawn she turns towards him and points towards her ear void of a hearing aid in preparation for a sudden nap, a gesture understood by the man who quickly translated it through clumsy hand signs]
H; It's the advantage of having 8 other members...you never have to sleep on the ground, or even in your bed
YS; Or you can just fall asleep in your studio and have one of your 8 members come drive you home-
[After taking a little while to register what he said she lunges over to him, accidentally digging her foot into Yunho's backside in the process - both male members rushing to attack her with pillows]
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[The vocalist opted to lay on the tallest dancer's back once more, practically mimicking his position before turning her head to Yeosang]
H; [Signing while talking] "Sangie oppa, do you know when we're going back to Italy ?"
YS; [S] "I'm not sure...I think some time around January, why ?"
H; [S] "Hyunjin oppa just sent me a picture of this really pretty paintbrush set but apparently he only found it in Milan, so I wanted to go buy it...I have to buy some new scrolls and ink too but Seonghwa oppa is coming shopping with me tomorrow"
YH; You guys have no idea how much money she makes from royalties alone, and she has over 200, but she only spends it on art stuff...you should see her car, you'd never guess she gets paid that much
H; Are you dissing my car ?? You're just mad because your long legs don't fit in it
YH; [S] "At least they're not so short that I have to power walk just to keep up with our members, or have to wait for breakfast because I can't reach the cereal"
[Yeosang slowly zooms in on her offended face before she smothers his face in a pillow, causing the two to start play fighting yet again - a true cat/dog duo]
H; So NOW you're fluent in sign language huh ??
YS; I'm sure they'll work it out...
[Yunho can be heard screaming in the background as Himari jumps on him]
YS; They love each other so much-
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[Worn out from so much physical exercise after a work filled day, the maknae is fast asleep with her head on Yeosang's thigh, holding a plush previously taken from her room as ammunition. Surprisingly the dorm's oldest fell asleep quickly as well, head resting on the vocalist's side]
YS; Well Atiny that's it for today's live, I guess I should get some sleep too, bye bye
Translated by 9024subs
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