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teapartyprincess4two · 11 months ago

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Can i ask for a johnnie guilbert x reader where the reader is a friend of tara who is a very private person, so she gets know in the channel as "baby" and people start to notice that johnnie gets shy and is always looking somewhere off camera (to her)

A LOTTTT of pinning by johnnie (like so much it hurts)

And maybe at the end he confesses she kisses him and a lil sum-sum 😏

Thank uuuuu 😘

Babygirl- J. Guilbert

pairing: shy!reader x Johnnie

classification: fluff

warning: use of y/n, slight cursing, slow build up, Jake and Tara are dating in this, suggestive content but NO smut, very long

inspiration: request^^, Deaf, Mute, and Blind Baking, Becoming Tara Yummy for a Day

summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.

—

Most people wish they had the fame you had, they spend their entire life reaching for an unattainable dream that fell in your lap by coincidence. They wish for the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, and especially to be so famous they’re stopped by fans on the street for a picture.

Tara, your best friend, was one of those people. She spent her childhood and teenage years fangirling over pop stars and YouTubers, hoping that one day people would be fangirling over her too. She worked hard to earn the platform she has today, bringing you along with her to the top. But you never asked for any of this.

At first her newfound fame didn’t affect you, you were just a recurring background character in her videos and would sometimes, but very rarely, have a main role in them. Although you tried remaining in the background, the internet is quick to get attached to shy, background characters and before you knew it the fans were begging for more content with you.

So now you and Tara are a well known YouTube duo and you’re featured in almost every one of her videos, most of the time opting to participate from behind the camera. You especially remain behind the scenes when Jake and Johnnie are involved, specifically because you’re never able to hide your crush on Johnnie and would probably die from embarrassment if the fans caught on.

Like today for example, Jake and Johnnie are over at your house filming. They’re filming a video they’ve filmed many times before, they’re turning Tara emo. The three of them are piled onto the couch, discussing topic after topic as Johnnie packs on black eyeshadow on Tara’s eyes.

“Ow, Johnnie. You’re hurting me!” she squeals as Johnnie accidentally pokes her in the eye with the bristles of the brush. You can’t help but giggle from behind the camera, watching as Johnnie becomes flustered. “Sorry! I only ever do my own makeup, okay?” he apologizes, not becoming any more gentle with his motions. Johnnie glances at you quickly, a smile forming on his face because of your laughter.

“Why are you laughing, Y/n? You’re next,” Jake chimes in, following his statement with a boisterous laugh. Your face flushes slightly as you reply with a laugh, “no I’d prefer not to be tortured.” Johnnie laughs at this, sending you a fake pout, “you hate my look that much?”

Your face becomes even more red, if that was even possible. You didn’t mean the comment like that. Tara, whose face is being attacked with makeup, chimes in, “No, Y/n is too babygirl for this.”

“Oh God, you’re making me sound so high maintenance,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at Tara’s comment. “It’s true though!” she exclaims, turning to face you just as Johnnie begins applying eyeliner, causing a black streak to run from the corner of her eye to her hairline.

“Guys, Y/n is probably the most high maintenance out of the four of us. She gets a manicure exactly every two weeks, she gets her hair redyed like once a month, her room is NEVER dirty. She almost never ever has dirty laundry, AND she irons her clothes. Who irons their clothes?” Tara exclaims, flailing her arms in the air dramatically.

“So yes, she’s babygirl,” Tara’s talking to the camera now, completely oblivious to her appearance. You scrunch your name at the nickname, the internet tended to latch onto things like that, “First of all, you look ridiculous right now. And secondly, don’t call me that. I don’t need to be known as ‘babygirl’ for the rest of my life,” you reply, laughing as Johnnie tries to fix his mistake but fails.

Jake, who’s sitting on the couch next to Johnnie, straightens up and leans forward to look at Tara. He immediately laughs at the sight, the black eyeliner smudged all over her face. “You’re just mad that it has a nice ring to it,” Tara retorts, choosing to ignore the mess Johnnie made. You scoff, glad that the camera isn’t on you to catch how your eyes train on Johnnie.

“Okay, but doesn’t it sound cute?” Tara proposes the question to the boys, waiting expectantly for them to answer. Jake was always quick to agree with her, it was a trait she trained him to have over the years of their relationship, “yeah, it’s pretty cute.” Tara nods her head in triumph, turning to Johnnie for his response.

Johnnie doesn’t know what to say, he agrees that the nickname is cute, but he’s afraid he’ll say too much and expose his crush for you. “Johnnie?” Tara says, widening her eyes as she awaits his response.

“What was the nickname again?” Johnnie asks, trying to act casual. But if the cameras zoomed in they’d easily catch how his hands tremble as he fixes Tara’s eyeliner. “Babygirl?” he reiterates, attempting to sound confused and oblivious. Tara nods her head, causing Johnnie to mess up once again, but he’s too busy trying to keep his composure to care.

Coming from him the nickname doesn’t sound so bad, it actually makes you want to take back everything you just said. “Babygirl is cute,” he murmurs, sending you a small glance before quickly turning back towards Tara. You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and the smile that won’t go away no matter how hard you try.

“Enough with the babygirl talk,” you groan, but you really loved hearing him say it.

—

From that moment on, you were known as babygirl within the fandom. You couldn’t escape the nickname no matter how hard you tried, and the fans loved teasing you about it. Whether it be through edits, Instagram comments, or tweets; the fans were always calling you the nickname.

Johnnie, Jake and Tara are currently filming yet another video, despite your protests. The three of them are standing behind the kitchen counter, with either tape on their mouths, earmuffs on, or blindfolded. They were trying to bake a cake, something they struggled to do even without the inhibiting factors, so all they were really doing was making a big mess.

They understand your hesitance with being on camera, so they never force you to make any special appearances, but you still loved to watch. You sit behind the counter, just out of view of the camera, watching in amusement as the three interact.

Johnnie keeps getting distracted by you, fumbling and stuttering his way through the intro. You watch as Johnnie struggles to find the supplies needed for the video, searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. “Every time Johnnie says he’s ready, he’s never ready,” Jake comments, adjusting the black beanie on his head. “Where the fuck did I put it? No, Jake where did you put it?” Johnnie replies, scavenging for the baking supplies.

“They’re in the pantry,” you comment, walking over to Johnnie briefly and guiding him towards the pantry. Johnnie smiles at you, grateful that there’s at least one sane person here to help him. The interaction was caught on camera, but you were too distracted to realize.

“Thanks babygirl,” Tara exclaims, bopping her head to the music blasting through her headphones. You roll your eyes, helping Johnnie take everything out of the grocery bags and sprawling them out onto the counter. Once everything is in order, Johnnie’s mouth is quickly covered with a sticker, but he’s happy he isn’t blindfolded because he can keep sneaking glances at you.

The entire situation was chaotic, none of them had any clue how to communicate properly and they had less knowledge on how to bake a cake. Jake’s arms were stretched forward as he tried finding his way through the kitchen, Tara’s loud singing making it hard for them to concentrate on one task alone.

Tara, who wore the headphones, was more focused on singing than the cake. You watch them intently, unable to stop yourself from laughing, “you need to whisk the cake!” Tara, who can’t hear a single thing you’re saying, repeats your statement causing you to burst into laughter.

Johnnie pulls out a plastic butter knife, deeming it appropriate for the task. “Get the beater!” Tara yells, following it by belting out song lyrics. Johnnie has no idea what Tara is talking about, so he sends you a pleading look. If there’s anyone here who’s going to help him finish this cake, it’s you.

“The whisk, get the whisk!” you exclaim, trying to talk over Tara’s singing as best as possible.

“What’s going on?!” Jake asks, one of his flailing arms slapping both Johnnie and Tara. Johnnie’s laughs are muffled by the sticker as he holds the whisk out for Jake, guiding him to the bowl.

“Babygirl?!” Tara is being so loud, her voice a good three octaves higher than normal. “Stop yelling!” you exclaim, but she ignores you and changes the song, continuing to belt out the lyrics.

“Y/n, we need your help,” Jake comments, stirring the bowl so aggressively that it was twirling. “We have no idea what we’re doing,” he continues, lifting the whisk up and blindly taking a lick.

“JAKE DON’T LICK IT!” Tara yells.

Johnnie’s laughter and shocked scream are muffled, his face scrunched up as he laughs uncontrollably, and you can’t look away. You wish you weren’t so shy, so that way you’d be able to join them in this fun activity without feeling anxious.

“This cake is going to be so bad,” you chuckle, catching Johnnie’s attention. His eyes linger on you for a little too long, a moment the fans were definitely going to clip and edit.

“What did you say?! Did you say my singing is bad?!” Tara is still yelling, following each and every statement with loud singing.

Many dirty dishes and a messy kitchen later, the cake is finally done. The oven rings throughout the kitchen, and Jake and Tara send Johnnie to fish the hot pan out. The cake didn’t look too bad, but considering you watched them make it, you weren’t too excited to actually try it.

“You have to wait until it cools to frost it!” Tara exclaims, the headphones causing her volume to be more than pleasant. Johnnie can’t respond because of the sticker, and he doesn’t want to wait for it to cool, so he continues haphazardly spreading the icing over the camera. Jake, on the other hand, is in his own world.

“That actually looks disgusting. It’s raw,” you gasp, watching as Johnnie lifts the spatula to reveal an uncooked, watery mess. “It’s undercooked!” Tara yells, her inability to hear you causing her to repeat everything you say in different words.

Johnnie’s muffled laughter is infectious, earning a string of laughter from you. “Let’s just eat it,” Jake suggests, facing the complete opposite direction of the group. The beanie on his head inhibits him from seeing the state of the cake, but even if he could see it, he would probably still ask for a bite.

“Wait let me help,” you get up from your seat and walk behind the countertop, immediately searching for something to serve the cake in. “This is gonna have to do it,” you hand Johnnie three plastic cups. He scoops up the raw batter, the liquid cake jiggling in the cup and running down the sides, immediately coating his fingers in frosting and batter.

“We’re gonna get salmonella,” Tara is staring at the goopy mess in shock, how had they managed to mess up such a simple recipe?

“I wanna see… I think we should take this off,” Jake yanks his beanie off, a fit of laughter attacking him as soon as he sees the state of the cake. Tara was subconsciously poking at it, creating a big hole in the center. Johnnie’s hands were full of chocolate frosting, and he held them up in exasperation as he waited for someone to remove the sticker from his mouth.

“Here lemme help you,” you murmur, gentle hands removing the sticker. Your touch lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t complain. If he had it his way, you’d have your arms around his neck and his lips would be on yours.

“Thanks, babygirl,” he whispers in return, loving how easily the nickname riled you up. You hated how much you loved hearing him say it.

“This is actually not that bad!” Tara’s boisterous voice breaks you two from the intimate moment, forcing you to reenter reality. “Try it,” Jake suggests, going back for a second scoop.

Johnnie is hesitant, but he grabs the cup and puts a spoonful of the raw cake batter in his mouth. His face contorts in disgust, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Here let me try,” you take the cup from him, using his spoon to take your own bite.

As soon as the cake hits your tongue, you’re gagging. “Oh wow this is horrible,” you say, fighting the urge to throw up. They’re all laughing at your reaction, Jake pulling a long hair from his mouth in the process. “I love this hair, adds flavor.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up,” the hair Jake held between his fingers was only making the situation worse for you.

“See, she’s so babygirl,” Tara laughs, joking about the situation even if she found it equally as gross.

—

It seemed like your friends were always filming because every time the four of you hung out there always seemed to be a camera lurking not too far. Like today for example, Tara gathered everyone for a casual hangout, but once you arrived she explained that everyone was going to be living like her for the day. At first, you declined her invitation, making a lame excuse about not feeling good. But she begged and begged for you to be in the video, and before you knew it you were an integral part of it.

“Okay, since you guys are becoming me for the day, it’s only fitting that you dress the part. So, put on these track suits,” Tara says as she hands you, Jake, and Johnnie each a pink track suit. You’re trying to hide from the camera as much as possible, but Tara keeps pulling you back in every time you almost wander away.

The three of you shimmy into the outfits, immediately feeling the Tara Yummy essence wash over you.

“This is sexy,” Jake comments, admiring his figure as the sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. “I’m serving cunt,” Johnnie says, joining Jake in admiring himself. Their tattoos peeked through, contrasting the pink outfits entirely.

You emerge from the hallway seconds later, the track suit providing you with a newfound confidence, “I feel so stupid, but I also kinda feel like that bitch.” You stand still, allowing the camera to pan to you before hitting a dramatic pose. You turn around to show the camera the backside of the suit, the word babygirl written in curly white letters across your ass. “Slay, babygirl, slay,” Tara chimes in, strutting over to you and hitting the same pose.

“Let’s please not start with the babygirl jokes,” you groan jokingly, adjusting the sweatpants that kept riding up, you were starting to get a wedge. But you knew you weren’t going to escape the babygirl comments today, especially not with it written across your backside. It was like a label that you were forced to wear for the rest of the day, and the fans would surely seize the opportunity and run with it. To top it all off, the four of you were so well color coordinated that you looked like a 90’s girl group, ready to perform on stage at any moment.

“This is fun, but I still don’t understand why I’m being forced to do this,” you say, staring at Tara blankly.

“Because you’re my best friend,” she replies cheerily, offering you a big smile and booping your nose. It was hard to stay mad at her. She walks away, joining Jake as they engage in conversation.

“And you’re babygirl,” Johnnie teases, coming up from behind you unexpectedly, immediately causing a blush to form on your face. He loved watching you get flustered over the nickname. He laughs at your reactions, relishing every bit of it.

“Alright, first things first, time to eat. Mama’s hungry,” Tara says, ignoring yours and Johnnie’s interaction before facing the camera and leading everyone to the car. Jake and Tara are far ahead, leaving you and Johnnie to trail behind.

“It’s gonna be leaves,” Johnnie whispers to you, earning a laugh in response. He loved making you laugh. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet we end up at Health Nut?” you ask, settling the bet with a firm handshake between you and Johnnie. His hand holds a firm grip on yours, almost like he’s hesitant to let go as he says goofily, “$2, take it or leave it.”

As predicted, the four of you end up at Tara’s favorite restaurant; Health Nut. It’s no one else’s restaurant of choice, but you’re living as Tara for the day so it doesn’t matter what the rest of you want. You’ve been here with Tara enough to be familiar with the menu, so you order a simple salad and drink before moving to the side and allowing Johnnie to order. Once he’s finished ordering, he pays for your meals before letting Jake and Tara order.

Johnnie is playing it up for the cameras, trying to embarrass himself with his actions before the pink track suit does it for him. He’s sitting on a toddler chair and you stand next to him, choosing him as your comfort zone.

Because you always opted to remain behind the scenes, most of the viewers weren’t completely aware of yours and Johnnie’s dynamic. You two were always clinging to each other in uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations, making quiet jokes to make the other laugh. You both also had a huge crush on each other, which further served as a gravitational pull.

“Order for… babygirl?” the employee calls out, a hint of confusion in their voice as they read the name on the order. This immediately causes you to laugh out loud. “You did not do that,” you whisper shout at Johnnie, who held his hands up in feigned defense as he tries not to burst into laughter. You awkwardly grab the food, both of youwalking over to Tara and Jake’s table.

“Did they just call you babygirl?” Tara asks as soon as you’re sitting down. “Yes dude, fucking Johnnie told them that was my name,” you laugh, hiding your red face in your hands. They call out Tara’s name and she dismisses herself briefly to pick up the food.

“Let’s go!” She exclaims from the restaurant’s front door, bag and drink in hand as she pushes the door open and walks outside. “Oh, I guess Tara Yummy eats in the car,” Jake says sarcastically, the three of you following Tara to the car.

Once you’re in the car, you and Johnnie sit in the backseat while Jake and Tara occupy the front. “I wanted to eat in there, but you guys are so embarrassing,” Tara says, handing Jake his food.

She doesn’t give any of you enough time to respond, “you guys are already pretty embarrassing, but the pink track suits make us all look genuinely crazy.” She’s obnoxiously shaking her salad from the front seat, causing the entire car to rock.

“Damn, don’t gotta put your whole pussy into it,” Jake laughs, earning a sly remark from Tara. Soon, they’re lost in a conversation of their own, leaving you and Johnnie to talk quietly in the back seat.

“Why do you keep pushing this ‘babygirl agenda,’ sir?” You ask, both in true curiosity and to make light of the nickname. He blushes, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of him.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy now,” you tease, piling up a good bite on your fork. He smiles at you awkwardly, preparing to admit something embarrassing.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” he admits with a shrug, taking a big bite of his food. Your eyes blow open in shock, this whole time you thought he was teasing you, but now it turns out he thinks it’s a cute nickname? “Don’t make fun of me,” Johnnie pleads in defense through a mouthful of food.

“I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting that,” you respond, trying not to be too loud. You couldn’t help it though, your giggles were soon filling the backseat. There was something about the confession that gave you hope that maybe you and Johnnie could be more than just friends. But you don’t want to get your hopes up, ir could easily all be for the video. You’re about to say something crazy and bold, but you’re cut off by Tara.

“Are you two done flirting? Cause I’m in the mood for coffee.” Leave it to her to ruin a sweet moment.

—

The day is finally over and the four of you are now wearing pajamas, reminiscing on the day’s events. Tara and Jake leave once the video is over, leaving you and Johnnie to lay on the large couch. The room is silent, but it’s not awkward, you’re both just catching up and joking.

“I was serious earlier, by the way,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling above. “Yeah?” you say in a teasing tone, rolling over on your side so you’re facing him.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, I mean the fans definitely have.” You mindlessly play with the strings of your robe, subconsciously scooting closer to him.

“So that’s why you keep calling me babygirl?”

“Mmm yeah, mostly. I think it sounds cute,” he smiles down at you, your figure just slightly further down the couch. You feel a surge of confidence wash over you, something you don’t usually feel as a shy person, and straddle his lap.

He looks at you in shock, both arms limp at his sides. “Say it,” you whisper, moving your face dangerously closer to his. You use your hands to grab his, placing them on your waist. He feels excited, nervous, and shocked all at the same time, was this really happening?

You grind your hips down onto him, hoping to elicit a response from him. “Babygirl,” he whimpers, the sudden friction sending a shiver up his spine that has his hips bucking. You hum in response, finally inching close enough to connect your lips to his.

You’re in a heated make out session, completely obvious to the world around you. Johnnie’s hands are roaming your body, your hips are grinding down onto him, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. You kiss from his lips down to his neck, sucking and biting the delicious skin until you leave a hickey.

The situation is about to escalate, but Jake and Tara interrupt before it can. They saunter in loudly, both you and Johnnie jumping off of each other in shock.

“About damn time!” Jake says, applauding you both for finally make a move on each other. “Get it babygirl!” Tara laughs, joining Jake in his obnoxious round of applause.

“So annoying,” you groan, throwing a pillow at them and shooing them out. Once they’re out of the room, you and Johnnie share a sheepish look.

“You’re never escaping that nickname,” he chuckles, silently pulling you back on top of him. “That’s okay. If you’re the one saying it, I don’t mind,” you murmur, kissing him again.

“Okay, babygirl.”

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Such a good request, I LUV being challenged with these specific requests!!! Hope I did it justice bby, I rewrote this like 5 times & had a different storyline each time. Also, I mentioned the famous hickey (💀💀) and I changed it from “baby” to “babygirl” because he mentioned that he’s “so babygirl” on Trisha’s podcast.

anyways, enjoy hunny bunches. Luv uuuuu

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

note: requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good ideas. Please be patient 💗✨

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗#johnnie one shot #johnnie and jake #johnnie guilbert oneshot #johnnie #johnnie guilbert x y/n #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert <3 #johnnie guilbert headcannons #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie guilbert x you #Johnnie guilbert fanfiction #i love my emo boyfriend

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ghosts-to-reid · 3 months ago

Text

Slip and Fall

Request: Spencer x reader is staying in a hotel whilst on a case together, she has to go to his room (the reason up to you, like her shower has broken or something). They both finally subcome to their feeling for each other, he pulls her on his lap, maybe some smut? @starstruckllamatriumph

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Implied msut at the end. Nudity

It was already half 10 when the team wrapped up at the police station for the day.They had been called to a case in Utah, and had been arduously working all day trying to make any sense of the case, so far with no luck. Each one of you felt dejected as you trudged to your respective rooms. Spencer’s was located beside yours, he had said a small ‘goodnight’ to you before you parted ways for the night.

Spencer Reid has been your crush since… well since your first day at the BAU. The moment you walked in, he had caught your eye. He had clumsily spilt his cup of coffee across his desk as you approached, you felt horrible, but couldn’t help but notice how cute he was when flustered. Since then, you have grown close. He was still just as clumsy around you, but you thought that was just his demeanor. Besides, he wasn’t interested in you like that.

Looking around your room, dropping your go bag on the bed, you walked towards the bathroom. A shower and sleep would be the best thing for you right now, and then, in the morning, you’ll be refreshed and ready to focus on the case.

Walking through to the shower, you flip the faucet on and wait.

And wait

Wand wait

No water was coming out.

You scowled, hitting the head of the shower as if it was simply hiding the water, only to be met with a pathetic sprinkle that dribbled out for a moment before stopping completely. Fiddling with the handle for a few more moments, you frustratedly sigh and head towards the phone on the desk. Dialing reception, they tell you they’ll have maintenance come to fix it in the morning. Not ideal, but you’d have to suffer with it for a moment.

Defeated, you sat on the edge of the hotel bed, your attention caught by a mirror across from you. You begin to unpick your appearance, your hair could use a wash, and you feel a bit grimy… Sitting in your growing discomfort you finally decide to grab what you needed from your go bag, a hotel robe, and finally leave your room where you walked the 4 steps to Spencer’s room, tapping on the door softly.

It only takes a moment for him to answer, he is hidden slightly behind the door, hair wet. He looks surprised to see you, as much as you are him. His damp hair, the shining of his skin, they all told you he had just got out of his own shower. Jealousy hit you, and before he could greet you you rushed out

“Can I use your shower?” He cocked a brow in surprise but nodded, moving aside to let you. He was wearing a robe identical to the one you were holding. There was steam still floating out of the bathroom as you walked in

“What’s wrong with your shower?” He asked as he shut the door, you spun around to face him quickly

“Oh, it’s broken. I called the front desk, and it's getting fixed tomorrow but I just felt… gross.” You chuckled out, shifting the objects in your arms.

It felt awkward to be in a room with Spencer like this, he was standing in front of you, damp and glistening, and barely dressed. You were desperate not to let your mind wonder, to keep things professional.

“I’ll just-” You pointed towards the bathroom and he quickly nodded

“Yeah! Yeah of course, there’s still a clean towel on the rack” He smiled

“Thanks, Spence. I’ll be quick”

“Take your time” He made his way over to his go bag whilst you entered the bathroom. Quickly stripping, you hopped into the warmth of the water, washing your hair and yourself speedily so as not to take up too much of Spencer’s time. As you rushed to step out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around you, your foot landed in a puddle of water which caused you to slip and fall onto the ground. A loud thump and scream followed.

Spencer came running into the bathroom, now he was half dressed, wearing only his pajama pants. Even if you wanted to oggle him, the small throbbing pain in your side distracted you from that. Spencer rushed to your side, checking for injuries, and gently guiding you to sit up as you groaned

“I heard you scream, are you okay?” He asked softly, gently rubbing the arm you landed on. Gruffly nodding, you move to stand but Spencer keeps you still. “Don’t move yet, it sounded like quite the fall.” He chuckled, making you smile. After a moment, you see his eyes wander down slightly, before quickly dodging to look at anything other than you- A blush creeping up on his cheeks. Confused, you look down, only now noticing your towel had slipped, exposing your chest to him. Nerves took over as you wrapped yourself up, before quickly moving to your feet with Spencer. He guides you to sit on his bed after he has composed himself

“Can I see your side?” He asked softly, standing in front of you. You cocked brow in confusion

“Why?”

“So I can assess how bad your fall was, you know how you fall can affect your body in ways you might not know, internal bleeding, fractures, they can all go unnoticed easily.”

“I didn’t think you were a medical doctor?”

“I’m not, but I read.” He smiled to you, almost proud of himself. You chuckled lightly, and stood up, moving your towel so you were still covered (not that that mattered since minutes before, he saw your boobs), and showed him where you had hit yourself. He knelt down before lightly placing a hand along your thigh, tracing his fingertips lightly up, reaching your hip bone, and finally your waist. His touch, though light, felt electric. It took a lot of self restraint not to sigh in bliss, or shudder in pleasure. His brows were furrowed as he intently studied your skin, eventually though, he was happy. He straightened himself once more, and smiled once he met your eyes.

“I think you’re all good…” He breathed out. It seemed that the situation you had put yourselves in had become more apparent to the pair of you. The proximity between you both was a lot smaller than usual, if you took too deep a breath, your chests would be touching. He towered over you, looking deeply into your eyes. “Strange day, huh?” You nodded

“It’s almost fate… Our rooms are next to each other… Your shower was broken… me seeing you so… vulnerable” His voice trailed off as his face inched closer to yours, your breath hitched as he drew in “It’s almost like I needed to see you. See you so…” He placed a hand on your good hip, squeezing softly. He smirked at the surprised whine you let out, biting your lip in embarrassment.

The pair of you were standing in the middle of his room, you were now the one whose hair was sopping wet, dangling in tendrils around you, and completely vulnerable in just a towel. His chest was rising heavily, skinny but well toned from all his work on the field over the years.

“Y/n?” He whispered, you manage to mumble a small response

“Im going to kiss you, okay?” But he didn’t wait for a reply before softly landing his lips to yours. Hand moving to caress your cheek, his lips were full of eagerness as they moved with yours. Snaking your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

His tongue penetrates your lips, deepening the kiss. So many unsaid words littering the kisses between you. In a moment, Spencer is pulling you on top of him, straddling him on the end of the bed. You eagerly accept your new position, finding better purchase on his lips.

The moment you unintentionally grinded down on his thigh, you knew you weren’t going to be going back to your room tonight…

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds prompts #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine

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hoshifighting · 1 month ago

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Hi. I've been here for 2 years but it's the first time I've sent a request, idkw. 1. I love your new theme. 2. I love u. 3. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, ignore me if it does. 4. I'm curious about how svt vs body hair are like. Are they hairy or do they shave? How do you like your s/o, waxed or hairy? Idk. Let me know your thoughts.

a/n: welcome anon! thank you sooo much! i love you too! ❤️ and I think this is actually interesting? I've never really thought ab it, but we're just playing out there, nothing serious

seventeen + body hair

WARNINGS: shaving and ... body hair? [all i can think about, is chan with his shaving machine]

seungcheol: trims neatly but doesn’t fuss over it. for him, it’s more about feeling comfortable than appearances. if he’s in a long-term relationship, he might even ask what his partner prefers

jeonghan: jeonghan strikes me as someone who could go either way, depending on his mood. he might keep it completely shaved for that super smooth, or let it grow out

joshua: probably shave it all off? i would even risk to say that he might wax. prob shaves like everything bc he just doesn’t like the feeling of hair

junhui: keeps it natural but pays attention to it occasionally. he doesn’t obsess over grooming but will trim or clean up when he feels it’s necessary

hoshi: i see him doing fun shapes 😭 you just never know with him... but definitely a "leave a lil line" kinda guy bc he thinks it’s tasteful. tries to do cute lil designs sometimes but always messes it up and ends up shaving it all off

wonwoo: neat but natural. wonwoo seems like the kind of guy who trims enough to keep things comfortable but wouldn’t bother shaving it all off. it’s more about maintenance than aesthetics for him

woozi: trims everything neat. might even shave in certain spots bc he knows he thinks he looks good smooth there, and it’s about aesthetics for him. but he’s not doing it daily.

minghao: trims out of pure aesthetics. like, he doesn’t mind some hair, but it’s gotta be controlled. probably uses fancy-ass scissors for precision.

mingyu: trims, but only bc someone roasted him for not doing it once (def a svt member). now he keeps it neat out of spite. he’s not overly hairy, so it’s not a huge job, but he does it like he’s clocking into work.

seokmin: probs trims bc it’s just easier for him to move around???, but he doesn’t stress about it. lowkey asks you to help sometimes bc he’s scared of nicking himself.

seungkwan: not fully shaved bc he thinks it looks like a naked mole rat (his words), but he keeps it clean. manscaped but not bald

vernon: trims, but he doesn’t stress about it. like, if he remembers, cool. if not? “it’s winter, who’s gonna see it?” he probably doesn’t have much body hair to begin with

chan: shaves EVERYTHING. no hair except for his eyebrows and the hair on his head. if you asked why, he’d just shrug and be like “it’s efficient.” smooth like a damn wax figure down there, and somehow, it’s extremely on-brand for him.

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rileyslibrary · 11 months ago

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Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them

Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.

Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.

You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.

“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”

“Cut it out.”

“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”

“A sharp one.”

“Stop it.”

“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”

He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.

“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”

You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.

“You’re worried.” You state.

“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.

He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”

“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”

“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”

“I just need you to be ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”

“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.

You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.

“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”

“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”

“Knock.”

He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.

“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”

“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”

“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”

You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.

“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”

You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”

He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.

“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #cod mw ghost

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penkura · 7 months ago

Text

where you belong [2/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Note: Sorry this has taken so long! I wanted to really progress these two and get some moments between them, so the chapter ended up bigger than planned! Next one is a good one I think. ;) Forgot to mention last time but Reader is going to be described as shorter than Law, and that height difference can be your own interpretation (I'm 5ft tall, these men would tower over me).

I am also FLOORED at how well received the first chapter was and that we've got a taglist for this series, my gosh. You guys are so sweet and wonderful!! If I missed you on the taglist PLEASE let me know and I will add you to the future chapters! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the beginning of Law and Reader falling for each other!

Taglist:

[Ch. 1]

You spend the next week learning more about the Polar Tang and the Heart Pirates themselves, Law taking most of your time to help you get used to things. He's made sure you understand the basic rules of the ship, for his crew, including the boiler suits, and what do in case of certain emergencies. You’re going to be working on your poisons in his office, in case anything happens, he can help you fix it. You’re honestly grateful for the time everyone has taken to help you get your bearings straight and work out where things are. You’ll be sharing a room with Ikkaku, who is so glad to have another girl aboard for as long as you are. She’s already started sharing some gossip with you, pointing out those involved so you knew who was who on top of it all.

Penguin has been extremely kind and helpful, telling you that you’re welcome to join him for night watches once you tell him you spend a lot of time writing during your shifts on the Sunny.

Shachi and Uni both showed you around some of the major maintenance areas, both promising they’d help you learn the most basic things so you can be of help if needed.

You’re about to join Bepo for a quick navigation lesson before their captain calls you, wanting to discuss somethings with you before you got too far away.

Law, although he agreed to letting you stay with him and his crew, still isn’t entirely sure what to do with you. There’s still that strange feeling in his chest when you smile at him, as you thank him for all his help and allowing you to stay, once he brings you to his office again a few days later, and he waves you off.

“You don’t have to thank me constantly.”

“I know,” you smile again and he feels that feeling that’s been hanging around, but Law tries to ignore it, “I’m just…really grateful. I know my being here may be a burden—”

“Not a burden, you’re welcome here. Everyone’s glad you’re staying around for now.”

Hearing that makes you brighten up, as Law starts to question you more about what you do for the Straw Hats, and what you can bring to his crew in the meantime. You list off everything you’ve come to learn about being at sea from being a Straw Hat, Law making mental notes on other things to ask about later.

“Any other special talents we should know about?”

You start to think, pressing a finger to your chin while you do so. Another action Law has to tell himself isn’t cute, before you grin and lean in close to him, quietly speaking.

“I can see the dead.”

Complete silence as Law raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to grin, halfway expecting him to ask for proof. Ask you to tell him about a spirit that might be hanging around the Polar Tang, or around one his crewmembers, but he doesn’t ask anything, eventually returning to a straight face.

“No you can’t.”

“…okay fine, I can’t. It’d be cool though!”

He rolls his eyes, which makes you laugh in return. Law goes to let you out of his office which you oblige by, knowing he’s done talking with you now that you’ve made your joke. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder first, you giving him a questioning look.

“I’ll help you make antidotes for your poisons. But you won’t use my crew as test subjects.”

“Ha! That’s fine, I don’t test on people anyway, just in case. Just give me some fish and I can use those.”

Giving him another grin, you walk ahead saying Bepo was going to show you something next, but Law had rudely interrupted by wanting to know what you could bring to his crew for the next two years. You’ll promise later to make extra batches of antidote for him to keep in his medicine stockpile, while Law watches you hurry down the hall and sighs.

“That’s the wrong way.”

He’s quick to follow you, grabbing your arm and bringing you back the right way, deciding he’ll join you and Bepo for whatever it was you two were discussing next. He wants to ensure you’re being given correct information and know what to do in an emergency, especially so if you need medical attention.

Atta boy, Law.

If you really could see the dead, you’d have noticed the tall, blond man with makeup and a large, black feathered coat pushing Law towards you.

+!+

“We’re approaching a winter island, everyone needs to be ready to disembark for a bit and—”

“A winter island?!”

Your outburst causes Law to stop speaking with a nod at you, and you’re gone to the crew bunks in an instant, followed by Bepo who is just as excited. Law gives a look to Ikkaku and Uni, who you’d been talking to when he came in, and both simply shrug at him. They all briefly noticed a sparkle in your eyes as you ran off, likely to change clothes and get ready to disembark, but none of them knew your intent or real interest in the snow.

It's only when Law catches you by the exit door with Bepo, excitedly talking with the Polar bear mink about what you could do in the snow, all dressed up in your coat, thick pants, boots and gloves. You and Bepo trade ideas back and forth about what to build out of the snow, or if you can get a snowball fight started.

Law hasn’t seen someone so excited for snow in a long time, he thinks not since the last winter with Lami.

Penguin joins you and Bepo by the door next, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a smile.

“What’re you so excited about some snow for?”

“It practically never snows in my home town! I think it snowed maybe twice while Luffy and I lived there? Chopper is from a winter island, so when we were there, it was so exciting!”

“Haha, I’m from the North Blue, so snow is pretty normal up there. Well…the area me and Shachi are from anyway.”

“Ah,” you give a little sigh but smile yourself, “I’m so jealous. What about Trafalgar?”

“That’s…well, kind of different, but we did meet him where we used to live,” looking over his shoulder, Penguin sees Law but leans into whisper, “Probably better if you ask him another time. It’s…a lot…”

Before you have a chance to question it, Law comes up behind Penguin and tells him to go ahead with opening the door, the Polar Tang should be stable enough for you all to leave now. You put that question into the back of your mind for later, instead running out with Bepo as soon as the door opens. The excitement both of you have is almost contagious, as the rest of the Heart Pirates slowly join you outside. While some of them are tasked with scoping out the island, the rest end up with you and Bepo building snowmen for a while, though you and the mink end up making a snow polar bear the best you can even if it looks a little goofy in the end. Some pieces are a little larger than others but you still think it’s cute, even as your companion bows his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N], I made some things a little too big.”

“No, that’s okay, Bepo! It gives it charm, I think he’s cute!”

You reassure Bepo a few times with a smile, before the two of you go to work with others on more snow sculptures. It goes well until you get hit in the face with a snowball, thrown by Hakugan at Shachi who dodged just in time. While it makes you sneeze a bit as you brush the snow off your face, with Bepo and Ikkaku yelling at Hakugan while he shouts apologies and Shachi nearly cackles, it doesn’t upset you at all really. Yeah it kind of hurt to have a snowball hit you in the face, but hey, you mentioned a snowball fight earlier, right?

Crouching down to gather up some snow, you put on a wicked grin and fling the ball at Hakugan yourself, catching him in the back as he turns away while you laugh.

“How about a warning next time?!”

“Yeah, snowball fight!!”

Most everyone joins in, gathering up all the snowballs they could or just throwing loose snow at each other, Law watches from the side, a slight smile on his face. He’s glad everyone can take a bit to relax and enjoy themselves, he’s not sure he’s seen his crew this excited about snow in a long time, even Shachi who grew up in the North Blue. Some of you group up to get an advantage over others, Law turns to ignoring the snowball fight as Penguin and Uni come back with what they found on the island.

All is well until Law is hit in the back of the head with a snowball, keeping himself upright but turning quickly to search through everyone and find who did it as you all quiet down seeing his glare. Not a single person looks him in the eye, but they all point to you, while you cover your mouth with your hand and try to stifle your laughter.

“S-Sorry, Trafalgar,” a giggle escapes you as you glance over to him, “I… I was… hehe… aiming for Penguin… honest!”

“Oh yeah…?” Law’s voice is low, he crouches down to scoop up some snow, locking eyes with you as yours widen and you turn to run, but realize it’s futile when Law uses his Shambles to catch up and grab you, shoving the snow he’d gathered into your coat and making you screech before everyone returns to the snowball fight.

“That’s cruel!!”

“Everyone get Captain, he’s cheating!’

While the rest of the Heart Pirates aim for Law, you and their captain are honed in on each other, trading blows from snowballs for the longest time, your personal goal to knock his hat off as payback for shoving snow down your back. Luckily you’re not the one to hit him hard enough to knock the spotted hat off, but you’re close enough to grab before he does, sticking it on your own head and playing keep away once Law realizes where it’s at.

“Looks good on me, huh, Trafalgar?! I might keep it!”

“The hell you will, that’s mine!”

Once Law catches you, he doesn’t let go until he’s snatched his hat back off your head and returned it to its rightful place, keeping a grip on your arm as he notices the sky starting to get darker. The rest of the crew has settled down, stopping at first to watch you and Law until a new snowfall began.

You forget for a few minutes that Law has a hold of your arm, it’s not uncomfortable, but you feel your heart pick up a bit from it.

“It’s pretty….the snowfall.”

He nods, finally noticing he still has a hold of you and letting go, disappointment flooding you as Law calls for everyone to return to the ship. Tomorrow will be a day in town to restock, you’ll all take off again afterwards.

You volunteer at dinner to make everyone the lavender milk tea that Makino once taught you, most of the crew enjoying it, but you’re especially surprised by Law liking it, even telling you so.

It's the small smile he gives when you thank him that makes you realize you just might be starting to get a crush on him.

+!+

Law knows something is up when you don’t join the rest of the Heart Pirates for a meeting before being let off the ship. He still does his job as captain, giving out duties to everyone so they knew what to do and who would be stocking supplies, who would be checking for wanted posters, and anything he felt needed to be done this time. He’d planned for you to join him on a once around the island to look for anything of interest, but when you don’t show up, he knows something must be wrong.

“Ikkaku-ya,” Law stops your roommate before she gets too far, Ikkaku giving him her full attention, “Where’s [Y/N]-ya?”

“Oh, um…” Ikkaku shuffles from one foot to the next, not fully looking at her captain and that’s what worries him more, until she speaks again, “She isn’t feeling well…she’s not sick so she doesn’t need a check-up but, it might be best to leave her alone today, probably tomorrow too…”

That leads to Law believing your cycle had started, and he chooses not to question it further, lest he or Ikkaku feel embarrassed about the discussion. He decides to leave you be, you’ll probably join them tomorrow for island exploring, most likely with Penguin if he asks you especially. When you do show up for dinner that evening, you’re quieter than usual and Law notices how Penguin and Ikkaku are the ones to talk with you. He can’t hear anything they say, but seeing you at least smile and respond to them is enough for him to think that everything is fine, you’re just not feeling 100% and that makes sense. He’s heard you and Ikkaku complain about cramps and the like the last few months, he already knows the first day is hard for you, so he lets it go. At least you’re out and talking to everyone.

But he knows something is up the next time it happens, not even two weeks later, and it can’t be blamed on your period this time. You don’t show up to a crew meeting, you still aren’t one of his crewmates but you’ve been joining for anything interesting or important, and Law doesn’t let it show that he's a little more worried, so he stops Penguin this time and asks him the same thing, where are you and why didn’t you show up?

Penguin doesn’t fully look at Law, scratching the back of his head as he tries to find the words.

“She…just isn’t up for it today, Cap. Maybe we should let her have the day off…”

Although Law tells Penguin that’s fine, he does go off to find you, the door to your and Ikkaku’s room barely open, but he knocks to make sure you’re not indecent or anything. There’s no answer so he opens the door, not seeing you anywhere, the new assumption being that you’re in the bathroom. He turns his attention there, again knocking on the door.

“[Y/N]-ya, Penguin-ya said you weren’t felling well, are you all right?”

No response, Law furrows his brow and knocks again, saying your name a little louder this time. He swears he hears a small whimper and a sob, and that’s what makes him finally open the bathroom door, simply saying he’s coming in before doing so, but he nearly freezes when he sees you.

Nearly curled up into a ball in the corner, head buried in your arms wrapped around your knees with numerous used tissues and he just knows that if you looked up at him, he’d feel that strange feeling in his chest again, or one of heartbreak, he isn’t entirely sure which one.

Law is not trying to scare you, but when he touches your hand and says your name a third time, it makes you jump and look up at him with wide, tear filled eyes, you feel beyond embarrassed that he’s caught you like this, but it quickly turns to more tears and a bit of anger.

“Are you—”

“Get out! Go away!!” Law barely dodges the box of tissues when you throw it at him, he’s not able to dodge the mascara you toss at his head as you keep yelling at him to leave. He doesn’t really move to leave until you stand up much too quickly and start pushing him out, he’s just surprised at your reaction to him finding you crying. “Leave me alone!!”

Once he’s out the door you almost slam it shut in his face and lock it, Law doesn’t know what to make of this really.

He can handle physical ailments, mental is a little harder for him but he’s working on it for his crew, yet emotional problems are not in his wheel house at all. He doesn’t really know why you’re locked in the bathroom, hiding in a corner crying, but that look on your face gave him an idea. He recognizes it from his own past, after his family and Flevance, then again after Corazon.

It was pure grief that was written on your face, definitely from your still fresh loss of Ace, and Law isn’t sure how to help you.

He doesn’t know if he should help you, you just might turn all your grief inward and ignore any hands held out for help, even from your new friends let alone him.

“Captain? Why are you…oh.”

Ikkaku finds Law still in your room several minutes later, staring at your bathroom door, until he hears her and looks at her, an expression she can’t read on his face.

“How long?”

“A few weeks now,” she sits on the edge of her bed, not looking at Law now, “It happens randomly it seems like, or something reminds her of Ace and sets her off. His birthday is soon, so that might be it right now. Penguin and I promised we wouldn’t let anyone know, so she could grieve alone.”

“Why was it being kept a secret?”

She shrugs a bit, Law isn’t sure he’s going to get many more answers today, but then Ikkaku speaks up again.

“She doesn’t want to burden anyone with her feelings, I guess. She should be fine by dinner, Captain, she just… needs some time.”

While she is correct, and you show up again at dinner looking normal but still with a sadness on your face that he can see, Law wonders if there’s something he can do to help you. Your need to grieve and have that time alone isn’t a bad thing, he won’t deny you that when you need it, but he wants to do something for you, he still doesn’t know you well enough to know that exactly you need, but anything is better than letting you be alone.

He knows all too well how that feels.

When it happens a third time, several weeks later, you don’t show up once again, Law doesn’t even need to look at Penguin or Ikkaku, they won’t meet his eyes anyway. After he lets everyone else go, his next mission is to find you, even though he knows exactly where you are. Law isn’t sure if his plan is going to work, but he wants you to stop hiding away from everyone when you break down. It’s not because he’s angry about it, he just doesn’t want you to continue suffering alone. It’s not good for anyone to do that.

He doesn’t even knock when he gets to your room, but does so when he sees your bathroom door is closed like the last time.

“[Y/N]-ya, I’m coming in.”

“No,” you force back a sob, making sure the door is locked, “Go away!”

“I won’t.”

You haven’t experienced all the abilities Law has at his disposal, but you aren’t that surprised when you see a blue hue, and he’s in the bathroom with you not even a moment later. He’s not phased by you attempting to throw things at him again, even while you yell at him to leave you alone, you don’t need help, you don’t need anyone right now.

You’ve handled things like this by yourself your whole life, why would need help now?

“I don’t need help!”

“I’m not trying to help.”

“Then lea—”

Law doesn’t give you much more room to talk, instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug, pressing your face into his chest which causes your eyes to widen a bit and tears to flow even more.

“I’m not trying to help,” Law holds you tightly, feeling a just a bit of relief as you slowly wrap your arms around him in return while you return to crying, “but you don’t have to be alone, all right?”

“T-Trafalgar…I…I just—”

“I know, I get it. But,” he knows it’s probably going to sound hypocritical based on his own issues, but Law still feels the need to say it again, “you don’t have to do this alone.”

Law isn’t entirely sure why he’s chosen to let you cry into him, let you grip onto his shirt like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth while you continue to cry and say how it isn’t fair that Ace died, that you lost another brother (he’s going to have to ask about that later, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned it). Maybe it’s because he didn’t have anyone back then, when he lost his own loved ones. It might be that, because he saw a reflection of himself in you the first time he found you hiding away and struggling to handle your grief. While you drag the two of you to the floor, Law simply adjusts to as comfortable a position he can, he’s at least sure you’ll both be there a while. You don’t show any signs of calming any time soon.

Law doesn’t know why he came after you, but once your cries fade to nothing, not even whimpers, he’s relieved to hear you speaking to him without being upset or between sobs of anger and sadness.

“I’m sorry…for crying all over your shirt again…”

“Don’t be. It’ll wash.”

Law strokes your hair a bit while you finally smile, nodding, before he helps you up off the floor. While you wash your face, Law directs you to not worry about helping anyone out with chores or sharing shifts today, he’s already split everything up among his crew, you’re under strict orders from the doctor to rest and recover from your breakdown. He does offer to bring you something to eat and drink, which you take him up on, stopping him before he fully leaves your room.

“Thank you…Law, I appreciate this…”

He’s completely aware that’s the first time you’ve used his first name, and he notices a different feeling in his chest. It’s not the same, almost heart squeeze he’s felt before, but something more comforting. Warm almost, and he’s starting to get it more.

“You’re welcome, [Y/N]-ya.”

Ah, that’s what it is…

Law realizes he’s starting to have feelings for you, though he decides to push them down for now.

He’s not going to use your weakened emotional state to push himself further into your life, not when he doesn’t even know if he’s okay with these feelings or not. For now, he’s going to do what he said and bring you some lunch, he’ll deal with these feelings later.

It is nice to hear you call him by his given name though.

+!+

“You’re as reckless as your brother.”

You giggle a bit while Law continues to wrap bandages around your arm, shooting you a small glare while you laugh. He’s not amused, mostly because it was him you’d tried to protect and ended up getting hurt over. You shoved him out of the way of an enemy attack, receiving a deep slice across your own arm instead. Once he realized what happened, Law was furious with you, even though he knows you aren’t part of his crew, it didn’t change the fact he was trying to protect you for Luffy while your crew was apart. You were lucky, he’d told you after he forced you to the infirmary, that your attacker’s weapon didn’t have any poison on it. You’d probably be dead before he even got you there if it had been.

You just grinned and said it was the opposite, your attacker was lucky your knife didn’t have poison on it, or he’d be in worse shape than he already was from your perfect aim hitting him between the shoulders. It doesn’t cause Law any relief to hear that, he still glares and it makes you start to shrink away, averting your gaze elsewhere.

You two still don’t know each other very well, it’s only been a few months since Luffy tossed you to him as the Heart Pirates left Amazon Lily. Still, you’ve found Law is fiercely protective of his crew, his family, just as you are with the Straw Hats, and while you’re with them, you count as one of his crewmembers.

The feelings you’ve started to develop for him don’t help much, Ikkaku being the only one who knows since you’ve told her how distraught you feel over it.

How could you start falling for a rival pirate captain? It’s only a crush but it makes you feel like you’re betraying your crew sometimes.

“Law, I’m fi—”

“And what if you weren’t?” He’s nearly grinding his teeth and ties off your bandage a little tighter than he intended, making you take a sharp breath. “What would you want me to tell your brother?”

You shrug, starting to play with the end of the bandages to distract yourself from him. “Could just tell him I protected you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you jump when Law slams down the scissors on the metal plate, keeping his back to you so you don’t see how upset he really is, “My crew knows I don’t need it. They know to run if a battle might cost them their lives. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because I do this for my crewmates, too. I’ve even pushed Zoro and Sanji out of the way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but—”

“Sorry wouldn’t bring you back from the dead.”

You both become silent, you taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment before nodding and biting your lip.

“You’re right…that’s why Ace isn’t back.”

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“Thanks for bandaging me up, Trafalgar,” Law turns around just as you jump off the table, going to leave, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Law watches you leave, letting out a frustrated sigh once you’re gone. He really hadn’t meant to upset you, it just came out, but it was also the truth. What good was ‘sorry’ if you had died and he had to tell Luffy that he'd lost another sibling, this time a blood related one? He didn’t want to have to deal with that, not when you and Luffy were still getting over Ace’s death.

He gets it, he really does, that pain doesn’t go away quickly, no matter how many false smiles you give to him or the others, or how often you laugh with them. No matter how many times he finds you crying the bathroom over you grief. It hasn’t been that long, he doesn’t expect you to be whatever is normal for you so soon. He probably shouldn’t be berating you, you’re not part of his crew so he doesn’t have the right, Law isn’t your captain.

But, you’re under his care for two years, you’re a temporary member of his crew, so you should listen to him. You’re proving to be as stubborn as Luffy is, but also just as protective as Law is.

And your progress with him, ugh. You’d finally gotten comfortable enough to call him by his first name, and now you’re back to calling him Trafalgar instead. Seven months of progress down the drain all because he was concerned, worried about you being reckless.

…why am I so worried though?

He could easily chalk it up to the fact you’re Luffy’s sister and he’s trying to protect you until you’re back with your crew, or he could even say its because of the feelings he’s developed for you, but Law doesn’t want to get into that right now.

Neither of you speak until dinner, when you run into each other right outside the kitchen and start a back and forth about who should go in first.

“You’re the captain, sir.”

“Ladies first, miss.”

You don’t like being formal, or hearing him call you ‘miss’, but you don’t want to fight about it. Not when his crew can hear and might be concerned about it.

“Crew shouldn’t eat without their captain there.”

“We don’t have that rule around here.”

Eventually you relent and go first, getting your food and taking the first free seat by Ikkaku, Law sitting beside you a moment later. You don’t talk to each other the whole time, you focus on your conversation with Ikkaku while Law responds to anyone speaking to him. You barely even notice when Law takes the roll he really didn’t want to have on his plate, and moves it to yours, almost like a peace offering that you two are okay, he’s not mad at you for trying to protect him anymore. You do give him a smile when you notice, which he returns with a nod before leaving for his room.

You sigh a bit, looking back to your plate and keeping your smile to yourself.

Things will be okay.

+!+

Over the last nearly ten months, Law has learned a few of your quirks. When you work on your poisons, you mark things three times over to ensure you have the correct amounts listed, you almost always strike up conversation with him about anything that comes to mind, even if Law doesn’t answer you.

Sometimes he’s caught you biting your pencil or pen while making notes, it’s one of your cuter quirks.

On nights you can’t sleep, like tonight, he can easily find you in the kitchen, brewing up some tea to help you fall asleep, and that’s where Law decides he has to talk to you. You’ve both moved past your argument from a few months ago, it’s like it never happened now, but he feels the need to speak with you about something important.

No, not his feelings, he’s going to ignore those as long as possible. He recognized them after you’d had an emotional breakdown, he’s not going to admit that especially, he doesn’t want you to think he has a kink for crying or something, absolutely not.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Law,” you look over your shoulder for a second with a smile, turning back to your tea, “Couldn’t sleep, though some tea might help.”

“Your usual then?”

Nodding, as you finish off your tea making, Law sits at the table and waits for you to join him, knowing you’ve made him a cup of lavender milk tea too. You’d started doing that and either taking it to his office before you head to bed or having him join you in the kitchen where you have small conversations before you both turn in for the night.

You’ve gotten quite comfortable with Law, your own feelings for him aside. He’s been helpful with your poison and antidote creations, ensuring your ratios are correct and helping you when they aren’t. You’ve started discussing books you’ve both read, you were shocked to find he enjoyed the Sora Warrior of the Sea comics. His being such a nerd over them never struck you as odd thankfully, Law even letting you borrow a few of his copies so you can give it a try yourself.

He makes you feel safe and comfortable, you really enjoy being with Law.

Law thanks you when you hand over the mug of tea, taking your seat across from him to enjoy your own, settling into a welcomed silence. With how rowdy his crew can be at times, you get why Law hides himself away in his office most of the time, and you’re grateful that he lets you share the space when needed.

“I know you said I didn’t have to,” Law looks over to you as you speak, an eyebrow raised, “but thank you again, for letting me stay. I really appreciate the help you’ve given me.”

“Like I’ve said, its no problem. Everyone’s glad you’re here.”

I’m more than glad you’re here.

There’s a soft smile on your face that Law enjoys seeing, and he honestly hopes you won’t lose it after he talks to you.

“I wanted…to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” setting your mug down on the table, you rest your elbows there with your chin in your hands, “I’m all ears, Law.”

He's almost fighting himself on if he should or shouldn’t, maybe another time. It’s late after all, you probably want to go to bed now that you’ve had your tea. It’s making him sleepy too, but the anxiety he feels is almost nullifying the tea’s effects.

Taking a deep breath, Law finally speaks up again, not meeting your eye.

“I want to tell you about my past,” that makes you perk up, remembering what Penguin had said to you months ago, “But I don’t think I can tonight. It’s…”

“A lot…?”

He nods, which you return, realizing this must be more than what Penguin could’ve meant, it has to be hard for Law to dredge up whatever memories he has of his childhood and teenage years, of everything that led him to where he is now.

Everything that’s leading him down the path he’s chosen.

“So,” when he finally looks up at you, you’re not surprised at how tired Law looks, it has to be taking a lot for him to do this, “I want to set a time in a few days, where you and I can sit, and I can tell you everything. “

You need to know before I could ever tell you my feelings anyway.

“Law,” Nodding, you quietly reach out your hand to his, not wanting to scare him off, “Just tell me whenever, and I’ll make myself available to listen, okay?”

After he agrees, Law offers to walk you back to your shared room with Ikkaku, which you take him up on even though you know the way. The Polar Tang is only so big, but it’s nice to have him by your side. Once you reach your door, Law turns to leave and you stop him, grabbing his shirt sleeve and leaning up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening just a hair.

“Thanks for walking me…and trusting me, Law. See you in the morning.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything in response before you enter your room and close the door, sighing heavily as you bring yourself to the floor, Ikkaku watching you from her bed.

“Man, you’ve got it bad for the captain, huh?”

“…it’s that obvious?”

“As obvious as the fact he’s the same for you, girlfriend.”

While you don’t believe Ikkaku is correct in that statement, Law isn’t able to bring himself to move for several minutes, frozen in shock that you decided to kiss his cheek and just run off to bed.

It looks like you’ve got more to talk about than just his past now.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #where you belong #fem!reader #reader insert

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caesium-55 · 11 months ago

Text

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33

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midnightorchids · 10 months ago

Note

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting.

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more.

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it.

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself.

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped.

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

#this was written before i found out how disgusting neil gaiman is #gn!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

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weathertheraine · 1 year ago

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Pirate AU!! Thank you @stringofturtles for watching OFMD S1 with me and re-igniting my Pirate Emotions so I had the motivation to finish this. The first sketches have been sitting in my files for months so please forgive the fact that they look different skdfjh.

More fleshed out AU details under the cut !! :D

- The kids are a little older than canon - the third years in their early 20s - but the story still starts with the second and third years as an established crew who then pick up the first years and the coaches.

- Daichi as a Captain is of course very much like he is in canon. He works very hard to take care of his crew and takes on a huge responsibility for providing for them (as well as making sure they don’t die in idiotic ways). Suga is First Mate so it’s his job to make sure DAICHI is okay and not worrying himself to death. He also has a good handle on morale/the emotional state of the crew.

- Asahi is the first line of offence when dealing with other ships. He doesn’t like actually hurting people, but he’s good at breaking ranks and barrelling through defences to get hold of whatever Karasuno needs. He was ‘off the team’ and out of commission for a little while after he lost his hand (not seeing combat while he was in recovery, and needing to build up his courage again). Noya played a huge part in helping him back onto his feet, and has been kind of protective ever since.

- Noya’s job is to make sure the ship isn’t boarded, so he very rarely leaves it.

- Ennoshita and Kiyoko work together as navigators and managing the little money the crew has. Ennoshita is the only crew member in the beginning who can kind-of read (Kiyoko can only read a little), and they work a lot with maps and planning out journeys.

- Tanaka is great at intimidating opponents. His eyepatch is totally for show - he thinks it makes him look cooler and scarier. His parrot doesn’t often co-operate with him.

- Narita and Kinoshita take care of maintenance and supplies and making sure there isn’t gunpowder anywhere there shouldn’t be, as well as things like fraying rigging and rotting boards/canons secure and the like. Of course, things like that are everyone’s responsibility, but these two consider is theirs particularly. It’s thankless work but the boat would definitely have burned down by now if not for them.

- Enter the first years!

- Kageyama is a prodigy swordsman with a huge reputation as a lethal pirate, although most people who spread those rumours don’t realise he’s as young as he is. He was marooned by his previous crew for being a controlling Captain (who should never have been captain in the first place, having only his fighting talent as the real reason).

- Hinata recently ran away from home to “become a pirate” without much of an idea what that actually entailed, and ran into Kageyama without knowing his reputation. All he knew was that this guy was incredible fighter, and he demanded that he teach him to fight! He now won’t leave him alone.

- Tsukishima ran away as a very young child in an attempt to find Akiteru, whose sailing ship was attacked and lost at sea. He fell in with pirates along with Yamaguchi (who was picked up after surviving a shipwreck), and the pair ended up sticking together as they bounced from ship to ship, ready to run whenever it seemed like tensions were getting high. They (read: tsukki) are going to need to break this habit, if they’re going to be a real part of this new crew.

- Tsukishima and Yamaguchi can’t sleep if they’re not in the same hammock. Embarrassing. The reason Yamaguchi was so tiny as a little kid is that he didn’t get enough food. Tsukishima still tries to sneak him extra (and gets in trouble with Daichi).

- Tadashi ends up as a sharpshooter, one of the few kids who’s confident using a pistol

- Hinata and Kageyama spar together all the time. It’s GOING to end in a make-out the first time Hinata successfully beats him.

- Neither of them have noticed that Tanaka’s eyepatch switches sides.

- Yachi is picked up when the crew stop in a bar in her town. She’s a better-off girl, about to be talked into an politically advantageous marriage, and desperately wants to get out of her situation. “Running away with pirates” was admittedly pretty drastic, but anything sounds like a good idea when Hinata suggests it so sincerely!!

- Ukai is a washed up older pirate, without a crew. Takeda is a very unlucky literature teacher who just happened to be on a sea voyage. They both ended up taken as hostages by the same (meaner) pirate crew, who were then stolen by the Karasuno kids. Although, it’s kind of unclear at this point whether they’re actually prisoners… They’re being treated very nicely (especially Sensei) and are in danger of getting attached…

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neptuneiris · 1 month ago

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Cruel Summer (07/10)

Hidden Coast

pairing: modern!aemond x fem!reader

summary: feelings continue to flourish stronger than ever and now that you have already experienced life at Crowns, it is now the turn of a certain rich guy to experience life at Black Waves.

words: 9.5k

previous part • series masterlist

okay, let's see how things continue with this story after my long disappearance (sorry, I was very busy with work and my schedule changes) i hope to get support, not just hearts as you need to comment and reblog, please.

i have seen how the activity has dropped in the HOTD world and i don't want to not have more motivation for this story when there are people who want the ending. I have a lot planned and any constructive feedback is more than welcome. thank you guys, enjoy!

"Are you ready?"

You look excitedly at Aemond in front of you, with a small smile on your lips.

"More than ready."

The jet ski's engine purrs softly with Aemond already sitting on top of it, waiting for you, ready to take you for a ride.

It's your first time on one of these bikes and you're clearly excited. Obviously a ride on one of these is afforded by the rich, either because they can afford it or because they have jet skis of their own.

You didn't even see it when Aemond first showed you the yacht. It was off to the side at the yacht, also being maintained and cared for by the people in the harbor that his family pays for maintenance and protection.

And when he let you know that his family also has one of these and showed it to you, you quickly as a little girl and completely thrilled told him that you had always wanted to ride in one of these.

And that's why now you're both here.

You make sure your vest is on properly and take his hand, where he helps you keep your balance as you stand behind him, taking a seat, then wrap your arms around his torso tightly.

"Hold on tight," he tells you, placing his hands on top of yours and watching you over his shoulder, "I won't go very fast but still."

He gives you a few more instructions but the truth is you can't concentrate one hundred percent. Not when he looks like this.

His tousled silver hair, his bare arms, the sunglasses he's wearing and his hands gripping the throttle lever, marking his bones and veins. A truly breathtaking sight, especially when you're holding him so tightly.

Then he again looks at you expectantly over his shoulder and you nod.

"Okay."

He makes sure one last time that you're holding on to him tightly and finally accelerates, both of you gliding out into the open water with the salty ocean air filling your lungs.

You feel the sea breeze begin to hit your face, lifting your hair. There's a lot of motion from the bike cutting through the waves with ease and water splashing in all directions.

Then he accelerates a little faster and you cling to him completely.

You stare in wonder at the horizon, where the ocean is endless and where the sun makes the water sparkle with little silvery glints as you and Aemond get further and further away from the shore by the second.

You leave the hustle and bustle of the beach and the town behind, until only the sea and the immense sky in front of you both remain.

The wind hits hard against your face, as does the breeze every second and you feel the adrenaline take over your whole body, smiling and happy to finally be experiencing this.

"Faster!"

Aemond looks over his shoulder at you and doesn't hesitate to oblige your request. He speeds up even more, and the jet ski glides over the waves with even greater speed, drawing a free and carefree laugh from you.

The force of the wind means you can barely keep your eyes open, but you don't want to miss a second of this view.

You feel your heartbeat accelerate, and the excitement fills you with a seemingly endless energy. Each leap over the waves is like a small flight and you feel like you could fly.

You cling to Aemond's waist tighter, enjoying the moment, here, with him, it couldn't be more perfect.

After a while, Aemond slows down and you look out into the short distance at a place you have seen from many summers ago. Since you were a little girl coming here with your mom, specifically.

You still remember how you excitedly told her that one day you would want to come here. So does Alysanne.

You gaze raptly at the large lighthouse that towers in the middle of the sea, not far off the coast of Sunset's. Aemond circles around it at a slower speed, allowing you to admire it, watching as some eagles fly at the top where the lighthouse ends its height, being a truly beautiful sight.

"Do you want to come up!?"

He asks you over the sound of the engine and the waters crashing against each other with every displacement of the bike. And you watch him in surprise, also excited.

"Sure!"

Aemond speeds toward the pier, where the waves rock gently against the worn pillars and where the place seems anchored in time, as if no change of season or year could alter its stillness.

When the jet ski comes to a stop, Aemond jumps off first, making sure it is securely fastened, and then reaches out to help you. His grip is firm but gentle and comforting, helping to steady you.

Afterwards, you walk together toward the base of the lighthouse, where it stands imposingly in front of you, its white structure contrasting with the evening sky. The paint, though somewhat faded, still reflects the light of the sun's last rays.

“Can we come in?”

“We can,” he nods.

“But is anyone inside?”

“There should be. But it's still early,” he says nonchalantly, ”We'll be gone before they show up.”

The old but sturdy steel door opens with a loud creak as Aemond pushes it open. And you step cautiously in behind him, watching as the light illuminates the interior a little more and with the foot of the stairs just to one side of the large door.

“Watch the steps, they're kind of narrow,” he tells you as he holds the door open for you.

You frown slightly, placing yourself in front of him.

“You've come here before?”

He nods.

“With Daeron, last year.”

You both step further in, and Aemond closes the door behind him.

The interior is cool and quiet. Everything looks too old, too, but still captivating. The little light coming in through small round windows casts irregular patterns on the wall, creating an almost magical feeling.

The two begin to climb the spiraling staircase and Aemond is right, the steps are worn and creak under the weight. Ocean breezes occasionally filter through the windows, and you can smell the salt in the air mixed with the scent of old wood.

“When I was a kid, I used to imagine what it would be like to come up here,” you say as you walk forward, “I've always seen this lighthouse in the distance and…I don't know, I thought it was amazing to come. Dad always told me, in his crazy stories, that you could see the whole world at the top of the lighthouse,” you explain with a small nostalgic smile, ”Although Alysanne always told me it must be no big deal.”

“And why didn't you ever come?” he asks you in a soft voice.

“We didn't have enough money to rent a jet ski,” you admit, ”Mom always said this was for tourists or people with money, which she was right. But… money was needed for other things, not for this.”

He doesn't say anything to you right away, but when you reach the bottom of the stairs, he stops beside you and says in a soft voice, “I'm glad you're doing it now.”

You smile at him, and there's something warm in the way he looks at you, as if he understands what this moment means to you. Finally, you both reach the top.

He steps forward and carefully opens the rusty door leading outside. The metallic creak mingles with the roar of the wind rushing in, bringing with it the salty scent of the ocean.

Excited, you walk through the door and step outside, where the lighthouse culminates in a small circular platform surrounded by a metal railing. And from here, the view takes your breath away.

The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see, the sun slowly sinks into the sea, painting everything with a palette of oranges, pinks and purples. The waves reflect the colors as if they were a liquid canvas, and the sound of the sea below seems amplified, like a constant whisper that envelops everything.

And even though you can't see the whole world, as your dad used to tell you, it's still beautiful.

“It's more beautiful than I imagined,” you murmur, barely able to look away from the landscape.

You feel Aemond approach, his presence solid and comforting behind you. Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around your waist, gently resting his chin on your shoulder.

His embrace is firm but tender, and in that instant, you feel protected, as if this moment was designed just for the two of you. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the wind caress your face and thinking about your dad.

You wonder what it would have been like to be here with him, how he would have told another one of his fantastic stories as the sun illuminated his face.

A lump forms in your throat, and you hold back the urge to cry, because you know that, somehow, he would be happy that you are doing it now.

You turn to Aemond, placing your hands gently on his face. His eye, a deep blue and gray, looks at you with curiosity and something else you can't quite identify, but which fills your chest with warmth.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him with emotion and tenderness.

He smiles, a small but genuine smile, and rests his forehead against yours, letting the moment envelop you both.

You both return to the harbor and Aemond again secures the jet ski next to the yacht, while you wait for him, taking off your life vest.

"Hey, can I borrow your phone?" you ask him, unsure.

He looks at you slightly confused.

"My phone?"

"Yeah, it's just... mine doesn't turn on," you explain briefly and he watches you intently, "It died on the way over here and I want to let Alysanne know I'm staying with you tonight."

"Sure," he tells you with no problem.

He finally manages to secure the jet ski and walks over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder and you both start heading towards the yacht.

"But what's wrong with your phone?" he asks you curious and attentive.

"Well, it's old and the battery is failing," you say a little embarrassed, "It takes about three hours to charge to at least fifty percent."

You both go up to the second floor deck and he slides the doors for you, both of you stepping inside the yacht.

"You need a new one."

He tells you as he walks over to the small kitchen island, picking up his phone and you sigh.

"Yeah, I know. I'll buy one when I get a new job or have it fixed. That's what I always do when it starts to malfunction."

"No need. I'll buy it for you."

"What?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, holding out his phone to you, "I need you to have your phone with you at all times so I can contact you. And obviously I can't do that if it's no working."

"But... no," you look at him completely incredulous and surprised, "No. You can't just buy me a new phone and that's it. You can't do—

"Of course I can, Y/N," he interrupts you completely unconcerned.

"But n-no... it's... it's not..." you babble, "I mean, you can't."

He places a small grin as he rolls his eye and watches you with a condescending look, leaning against the kitchen island in a casual motion.

"And why not, according to you?"

"Because it costs a lot of money!"

"Yeah... and your point?"

"My point..." you remark, still incredulous, "Is that it's a lot of money to buy a new one."

He frowns slightly, still with that little grin on his lips.

"And that's why I can't?"

"Well, I-I... you... I mean—

"Stop doing that," he interrupts you in a soft voice as he sits up and walks over to you, "It's nothing. I can buy you a new one."

He stops in front of you and places a hand on the back of your head and then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I know it's a lot for you. But I can afford it."

"But... you don't understand," you look at him uncertainly, "I can't afford it. And suddenly having one of these," you point to his phone in your hand, "will draw attention. Besides, I don't want it to look like I'm taking advantage of you."

"Oh, believe me, you can take advantage of me all you want, darling. And I wouldn't mind."

He tells you still with that fucking grin on his lips then leans in and kisses you deeply.

His hands rest on your waist and you bring your free hand to the back of his head, moving your lips against his and gently stroking his hair. Then you both pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours.

"I'm serious," you murmur.

"And so do I," he tells you in a more serious tone of voice, "Don't worry about any of that. You're not taking advantage of me. I want to. Besides, you'd better get used to it."

You gently shake your head.

"You're joking."

"Hm. Are you sure about that?"

He again closes the distance between you and kisses you with more need, though with the same depth as before. You gasp into his mouth and reciprocate his kiss, clinging tighter to him.

His fingers firmly squeeze the skin of your waist and send electric waves throughout your body, as you let yourself be completely enveloped by him.

"I'm dead serious with you."

He says in a husky voice against your lips and you begin to feel the level between the two of you begin to rise, becoming more desperate and needy.

"No, you're not."

"You think so, baby?"

He cooed and before you can say anything else, he interrupts you by attacking your lips again and lifting you off your hips, causing you to wrap your legs around his torso.

You let out a surprised little laugh as he settles you better in his arms and heads for the stairs. Or towards the bedroom, specifically.

You watch Alysanne with a huge smile and a dreamy look on your face as you finish telling her all about your day yesterday and how much fun you had with Aemond.

“And how was your night?” she inquires you with that mischievous look.

Instantly your cheeks burn and you look at her with embarrassment mixed with reproach.

“I don't intend to tell you anything about it.”

But she can already get the idea just by looking at your reaction.

“Lucky bitch.”

You let out a small laugh, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You could have these experiences too, you know?”

“Which ones, specifically?”

You look at her with an obvious look.

“You know, the yacht, the jet skis, and life at Crown's.”

She rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh.

“You mean because of Cregan?”

“Who else?” you inquire, ”Why hasn't anything happened between the two of you? It's weird.”

“Cause it would be weird.”

“Weird?” you look at her blankly.

“A guy from Crown's with a girl from Black Waves.”

“Oh, come on,” you look at her incredulously, ”Are you not seeing my situation? Besides…” you say, remembering, ”didn't you tell me that if you were in my place with Aemond, you'd agree to be with him?”

“Well, yes but… Cregan hasn't really acted or said anything to me,” she justifies herself, “Yes, I've seen his looks, his actions and his behaviors but,” she sighs, “I don't know. He hasn't really come on to me.”

“Come on, you and Cregan together is easier and less complicated than Aemond and I,” you say, ”Cregan has no girlfriend and no responsibilities. He doesn't have to please his father and he has a lot of freedom.”

She is silent for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“Yeah, I know.“

She lets out a sigh again and neither of you say anything else for a few long seconds. Until she speaks again.

“By the way…” she, thoughtfully, “Since you talked about his dad and his girlfriend, how exactly are you and Aemond doing so you don't get caught?”

“Well…” you murmur, “ His dad he doesn't see much of him in the day. Only Aemond knows the days when he's going to need him and is there for him. With his siblings and mom it's easier. He only says he wants to be alone and leaves home to meet me on the pier or in the harbor.”

“And Floris?”

“He tells her that he's busy getting ready to take his management course before he goes off to college,” you explain, “And it's not totally untrue. When he's with me, I've seen him looking up program recommendations and reviews online.”

“Hm, very clever,” she says as she nods then lies back on the bed completely, “I don't know about you but I find your whole situation… exciting,” she says as she looks at you with a small smile.

“Exciting how?”

“I mean, like exciting and scary at the same time,” she explains, “And also like a movie-like, of forbidden love. The rich guy and the poor girl who can't be together because they'll be judged before society, you know?”

You raise your eyebrows slightly at the comment, amused.

“Well, it's not totally far from reality.”

“Like the prince and the commoner, the millionaire and the maid, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Noah and Ally, Romeo and Juliet—

“Romeo and Juliet?” you interrupt her, amused and incredulous, ”I hope neither or both of us have to die so we can be together in heaven.”

“Well, you know, two completely opposite worlds doomed to be apart…though without the tragic ending, please,” she says as she laughs, sitting up a bit from the bed and propping herself up on her elbows, ”But, you know, it would also be like Jack and Rose. Although you'd be Jack and Aemond would be Rose.”

You frown, watching her.

“You, poor and free,” she points at you with her index finger, “Him, rich and trapped in world he hates with a dad who hates too.”

“I hope our story doesn't end up sinking like a giant ship in the middle of the ocean,” you mutter.

“Okay, so another example… like, um… Aladdin,” she snaps her fingers, “But it would also be the other way around, you, a thief of the streets, him, a prince with the full weight of his kingdom's expectations. Although…“ she pauses and looks at you mischievously, "Aemond doesn't have a magic carpet, does he?”

You laugh and shake your head.

“No, but he does have a jet ski.”

“And a late model car, a yacht, a mansion..” she lists, “Businesses, infinite credit cards—

“Yes, but that's not why I'm with him,” you interrupt her, indignant.

“I know but you get my point, right? The whole forbidden love thing, with restrictions, secret meetings, no freedom and where everything can end well… or bad,” she tells you with a look and a condescending tone, ”Obviously you both want to be together. But if you get caught, there will be a scandal all over town and who knows how his family will react. And Floris too.”

You look at her again confused.

“We had already had this conversation and you were the one who told me to take the risk?”

“Yes but that's not what I'm talking about.”

“Then?”

She sighs and looks at you with a more serious look.

“You and Aemond must have a plan if that happens.”

“A plan?” you repeat.

“Yeah. Have you two talked about what you'll do if you get caught?"

“Yeah… well, sort of, when he went looking for me with Cregan,” you explain, "The plan…” you start to say, trying to sound more confident than you feel, “is that he'll protect me.”

“Protect you?” she repeats, confused, ”How?”

“Well, we didn't exactly say those words but, basically, he won't let his or Floris' family near me. I just have to stay on my side of town and… I'll be fine.”

She folds her arms, expectantly.

“And then?”

You sigh.

“We won't be able to talk or… see each other, obviously.”

“But he's going to fight his family and his dad, right? To do what he wants and to be with you… right?”

“That's the plan,” you nod, '“If all goes well, that would be a miracle but if it doesn't…” you watch her fearfully, “We'll have to say goodbye.”

Alysanne gestures as she lets out a sigh again.

“Maybe this will be harder and riskier than I thought.”

“Yeah, I knew you'd say that after convincing me to be with him clandestinely,” you tell her with a scowl.

“Y/N, look—

“But you're right,” you interrupt her again, ”I mean, I knew all along. I know the risks we're taking and yet… I'm willing to do it and so is he. We both talked about it and we know this won't be easy, but it's what we want.”

She looks at you quietly, her expression in slight concern.

“Aemond has to deal with and please his family's expectations and control, without being able to do what he really wants. And I… I want to help him, to make him live, enjoy and have some freedom, if only for a moment.”

“Even if that freedom is temporary and you both end up very hurt?”

You shrug, shaking your head.

“It will have been worth it. Because, at least, we'll have tried. Or that's what you told me, if I remember correctly.”

She lets out a laugh and you follow her instantly, where after you both fall silent, as she watches you with a soft smile.

“I guess you're brave after all… or stubborn, depending on how you look at it.”

You smile, feeling a little lighter.

“Runs in the family. I learned that from you.”

At that moment, her phone rings and she picks it up, while you stand for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“We should go now,” she lets you know, looking at her phone screen, “Chase says he's already with the guys at the beach. Cregan's going too.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree, instantly grabbing your phone, “I'll text Aemond to meet us there too.”

You send him the message without a problem, as Alysanne watches you in amusement.

“Doesn't it make you anxious to have to tell the guys about you and Aemond?”

“Why? They already saw us on the beach the other day.”

“Yeah, but… you know, you'll have a lot of explaining to do. A lot.”

“I guess I'll just have to put up with it.”

Pretty soon the two of you head down to the beach, especially the place where you always have the bonfire gatherings. And sure enough, the boys are already there, taking a break before surfing.

But as soon as Sam sets his eyes on you, questions begin to form in his mind, like bubbles, questions that he immediately asks you and that raise more questions in Daniel and Chase.

“How did it come up?”

“What happened?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Is it true that his family has three yachts?”

“Does his family know about the two of you?”

“I'm very confused.”

“He's with Floris, isn't he?”

“He's cheating on Floris with you?”

“So you're the other woman?”

“Will you guys stop?”

Alysanne tells them instantly serious, managing to get all three of them to shut up.

“You guys aren't going to bring that back when he gets here. It's reckless and rude. Do you guys want to embarrass Y/N or have him think us stupid and disrespectful?”

Daniel snorts.

“Please, he's a fucking Targaryen.”

“He already considers us stupid, shitty poor things,” Sam says with a scowl.

“He doesn't consider Y/N like that,” Alysanne reminds them.

“But what happened?” Chase insists, looking at you confused and interested, 'I always thought it would be Cregan and her,” he points to your cousin, “But Aemond Targaryen and you?” he says incredulously, “I mean, really, when and what happened?”

You step forward towards them, letting out a sigh.

“I'll tell you everything but first promise not to act weird around him and try to include him to the group,” you tell them seriously.

“Include him in the group?” Sam repeats incredulously.

“I don't understand anything,” Daniel also says.

So, you explain. You tell them about everything, from the beginning at the pier until now, answering their questions, taking advantage of the fact that he hasn't arrived yet.

You explain to them about his relationship with Floris, a brief explanation of his relationship with his father and what he has to do obligatorily for his family's business, or rather empire.

And also what the two are doing together, all in secret. At least it makes them less confused and they have a clearer idea of what is going on between the two of you.

And although the three of them promised not to be weird around him and to include him in the group, as soon as Aemond arrives and you introduce him, in fact they include him instantly, but not being weird, they don't do it well.

And everything you explained to them, they corroborate with him, talking to him about it and asking him questions, while you all wait for Cregan sitting in the sand.

“Your old man not letting you live, even make your own decisions, must be awful, dude.”

Sam says to Aemond with a look of pity on his side, at the same time Chase and Daniel corroborate in conversation.

“I mean, you're of age now, aren't you?”

“Yeah but having a dad like his… you don't really have much of a choice.”

“What do you mean? Like a powerful, rich, influential dad?”

“Guys,” you mumble, looking apologetically at Aemond beside you.

But he only remains silent, with a small soft smile on his lips, simply listening to them.

“No, no, we're just saying it must be awful.”

“Yeah but it's not that awful either… is it?” Daniel says doubtfully, “I mean, you still have it all, like a very expensive car…” he points to his car parked in the distance, “yachts, lots of money and pretty much life settled, bro.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes and turns to Aemond.

“Excuse him. You're with a bunch of poor people, it's obvious we're not going to understand.”

“No, it's okay,” Aemond says still with his little smile, ”I understand you have a different point of view.”

“It's not all about money and everything you can buy with it,” Sam agrees.

“But it is,” Chase shrugs, “In a way.”

“We don't have those things, dude,” Daniel says, “We have to work, make a living, somehow survive, while you don't have to do anything because you already have everything,” he points to Aemond, “And don't get me wrong, I'm not reproaching you, it's just that…” he sighs, “The rich people I know here have a fucking habit of complicating things in their families and they're not able to fix it and be happy.”

The circle goes completely silent for a moment. That's because Daniel has said what all the people in Black Waves and you as a group of friends, is exactly what you think.

It's something you've always talked about, about the rich people in Sunsets who have everything except love and understanding in their families. And that's exactly why they're not happy.

And on the other side, the poor, they have the love, the family unity, except the money and the proper living conditions that they want to have all the material things that the rich have that the rich don't enjoy because of these voids and problems in their families.

Obviously there are different opinions on this which are totally respectable, but this is something that your friends and you have seen since you were little in Sunsets. Even Cregan has corroborated the idea about what he has seen in his world.

When in the middle of the silence, suddenly Aemond speaks up.

“I understand what you're saying and you're right, very right actually,” he nods, looking at Daniel, “That's exactly what's going on in my family. There is… no love, no empathy, no communication and everything is…” he sighs, "fucked up."

Everyone around him watches him, listens to him, as do you, instantly feeling sorry for him, even though you tried to avoid it.

“It's all about what you can bring to the table, how you fit into the family 'plan.' But no one stops to ask you what you want or how you feel,” he confesses, ”The only times I've felt loved were with my mother when I was a kid and recently with my sister Hel, nothing else.”

“Are you serious?” Alysanne inquires.

“That sounds… lonely and shitty,” Sam says with a grimace.

“It is,” Aemond nods, ”And when you try to get out of it, even for a moment, the consequences are bad. And not just for you, but for everyone in the family.”

Daniel frowns, crossing his arms.

“That's what I don't understand. If you have everything, so much money… why aren't you able to be happy instead of ruining each other?”

Aemond lets out a dry little laugh, his smile now more bitter.

“Because in my world, happiness is not a priority. It's more about appearance, control and getting more, more money, more power, recognition, respect,” he lists, "And if you deviate from that, you're a problem."

“Dude, all rich people are crazy, I knew it. And your family more so,” Sam says.

“Hey,” you instantly reproach him, with a warning look.

“It's okay, it's not totally a lie,” Aemond tells you, in a soft, calm voice, “And don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what I have. But I also want more. I want a loving, caring, understanding family. I want freedom, to be able to make my own decisions, to do what I really want to do and not what's expected of me.”

“And why don't you try to, you know… just… drop everything?” Chase asks her, intrigued, ”Rebel, be happy and live your life the way you want to.”

“It's not that simple,” Aemond shakes his head, “I'm my dad's only heir, and someone has to take his place. It doesn't matter if I want to or not. It's my responsibility, and everyone is counting on me for that.”

“But why would you have to do it?” Daniel asks, “I mean, from what you've told, your dad hasn't really done anything for you other than control you. And your family…they just watch and allow it.”

“Because that way I keep my family from exploding and we don't lose everything we have. If it's not me, there's no one else,” Aemond answers him simply and with that bitter tone of resignation.

Silence falls again on the group, where only the waves can be heard breaking softly on the shore and against the big rocks. Also the seagulls, creating a relaxing and less tense atmosphere.

Although even so, everyone watches Aemond from time to time, serious and with slight looks of pity. So do you.

You watch him silently, though not too much for him to notice. And his face, soft and hard to read… is covering all the frustration, sadness and vulnerability he is surely feeling.

Frustration and vulnerability that you feel too, because it's not fair to him. So without saying a word, you reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently.

Aemond looks down at the joined hands, saying nothing. But what you do see, though, is that little curve at the corner of his lips, smiling softly and returning the gesture with his fingers, wanting to feel you and hold you close to him.

You know it's not much. You know it's not an exit nor can it compare to all the material things he possesses. But it is a support, something meaningful and pure of heart.

“Look, dude…” speaks Chase, finally breaking the silence, scratching the back of his neck, "We're not your family, that's for sure," he lets out a low, awkward little laugh, ”But here between us… we're like one.”

Daniel next to him nods, putting on a small smile.

“It's strange to say this to a person like you, especially being a Targaryen but… if you need support, someone to listen or just a place where you can breathe… you can count on us.”

“We don't have all the money in the world…” Sam says, “neither mansions, nor yachts or cars of the year but…” he looks at everyone with a soft smile to again look at Aemond, “we're here, okay? You won't be alone anymore.”

You look at your three best friends with a small, tender smile contained with emotion and gratitude. His words, though simple, resonate deeply and make a warmth begin to spread from your chest.

And you know Aemond must be feeling exactly the same.

“I know it's hard, Aemond, but you don't have to carry everything by yourself,” Alysanne tells him, ”Seriously, if you need to get away from all that shit for a while, we're here.”

Slowly, you watch Aemond beside you, who doesn't respond right away. You notice how he suddenly becomes a little uncomfortable, stirring slightly where he is sitting, having no idea what to say or how to act.

It's clear he's never been on the receiving end of these kinds of words and gestures before. Knowing that, it breaks your heart a little. But then, there's the small smile on his lips, barely noticeable but so sincere as he watches your friends with a look full of sincerity and gratitude.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice softer. “I-I…you don't know how much this means to me. Truly.”

For a moment, no one speaks, but they don't need to. The connection is palpable, an understanding between everyone. So, you rest your cheek on his shoulder, it being a small gesture, but strong enough to convey to him that he is not alone, that you are there, that everyone is there for him.

And the atmosphere, which had previously been charged with tensions and mixed emotions, began to lighten. Chase is the first to speak, animated and looking at Aemond with a huge smile.

“Now, if you're going to officially join the poor people's group, we're going to have to put you through a rite of initiation.”

“Rite of initiation?“ Aemond repeats, amused.

“We don't have any of that,” Alysanne reproaches amused.

“True, we don't, but I wanted to start trying with you.”

Everyone laughed, even Aemond, who for the first time in a long time felt like he could breathe easy. As the group continued to joke around, throwing challenges at him like trying to surf or learning to juggle coconuts, the two of you exchange a glance.

You lean towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. The gesture so natural and so warm makes Aemond close his eye for a moment, enjoying the moment and the simple pleasure of being there, with you, just like you.

It feels good to be surrounded by laughter and non-judgmental looks, with people who accept him as he is. And in that moment, Aemond felt something he hadn't experienced in a long time: belonging.

“Okay, well…” Sam starts to say with a mischievous grin, "I don't want to ruin the moment but… did anyone else notice that?" he points his head towards the two of you.

Chase lets out a laugh, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, of course we noticed.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes again.

“And here they come.”

“Since when is this a thing?” asks Sam.

“Since when do Targaryens accept kisses from commoners?” Daniel feigns surprise as well, holding a hand to his chest.

“Shut up,” you reply with a nervous smile, your cheeks burning.

You try to look away, but Aemond, instead of feeling uncomfortable, smiles knowingly, amused.

“So, what's going on here?” insists Daniel.

“Aren't you going to tell us your clandestine love story?” Sam also says.

“I already told you,” you reproach them, “And you promised not to do this,” you remind them.

“Yeah, but we want both versions,” they justify themselves.

Nothing stops them and they get Aemond to tell them a couple of things, exactly everything you told them.

“But what about Floris? Because if that girl finds out, it's going to be a disaster,” Chase says.

Aemond nods slowly.

“Yeah, Floris… she's part of the problem, but not the only one. My dad is the real obstacle. If he finds out and my whole family—

“It's not going to be pretty,” you complete, looking at your friends with a mixture of concern and determination, ”Then the whole town is going to find out and everything will be in chaos.”

A small silence ensues, where Sam nods thoughtfully, then looking at Chase, Daniel and finally you and Aemond.

“Okay, so all we have to do is help them protect themselves from your crazy family and your bratty girlfriend.”

“Sounds like mission impossible to me,” Daniel says.

Aemond lets out a small chuckle under his breath.

“Thanks, guys,” he says softly, ”For understanding and for not judging.”

“Judging?” repeats Chase with a smile. “Please, we're the last ones to judge. We just want to make sure you don't end up in trouble…or worse.”

The conversation and atmosphere relaxes again with their amused comments and teasing. When a voice exclaims in the distance, approaching.

”Have you already started the party without me!?“

Everyone turns their heads and sees Cregan, in his typical beach clothes and completely relaxed.

“Dude, you took a thousand years!” Chase yells at him.

“Sorry, I had to do a couple of things!” he says then trots over to all of you, closing the distance, ”My dad wanted me to help him out at the company with some doc—

He finishes the sentence abruptly as he sees that recognizable silver hair sitting among your entire group of friends and opens his eyes wide.

“Targaryen!” he exclaims with a huge grin, ”Finally!”

They do that typical male greeting and then he takes a seat next to Alysanne, visibly excited.

“Well, update me. What did you talk about?”

“A crazy family with no love, a son with responsibilities he doesn't want, a forbidden love, and a girlfriend who is actually for convenience,” Sam lists.

After that, the next hour is really about getting to know Aemond better. His favorite movie, favorite color, places he's been, things he likes to do, what things he doesn't, aspects of his life, etc.

Although the boys, especially Sam, kept saying they couldn't believe they now had another rich boy in the select group of the poor. And a Targaryen on top of it.

Cregan was a little offended at first, saying he liked it better when he was the rich guy who got the attention among all of us. Then they started making jokes, chatting, laughing more and it's like they've all known Aemond all their lives.

He had a very good inclusion to the group and he also spent as much time as he could to get to know the guys and Alysanne better.

Afterwards he and you decide to go for a short walk along the shore. You don't really talk about anything important. You just enjoy the moment, laugh, talk about everything and at the same time about nothing, hugging, hand in hand and letting the salty water wet your feet with every step.

And after a while, you return to the group, where Alysanne tells you the plan and you tell Aemond.

“The guys want to go on a ride to the sea.”

“Oh, okay.”

He nods and looks out at the small, worn pier, frowning after a brief inspection.

“And where's the yacht or the launch?”

You're about to answer but someone else does, reaching towards both of you.

“Yacht?” Sam repeats incredulously, stepping up beside you, "Dude…" he lets out a small laugh, ”we don't have any of that. This is Black Waves. But we do have the launch.”

He winks at you both and then trots over to your launch that is anchored to the pier, which was too unnoticed by Aemond, as he thought it must be an old abandoned launch and not really your launch.

“Oh,” he mutters, embarrassed.

You let out a small laugh, intertwining your arm with his.

“Come.”

The two of you follow Sam, who shows Aemond how the old launch actually has a powerful engine and that's more than enough to go sailing for a bit. The seven of you climb in without a problem and soon enough the launch is gliding through the waters.

You notice how he, at first, seems skeptical about the launch's stability, but soon settles in beside you, though somewhat cautiously.

“Just remember not to go near the piers,” you tell Sam as he starts the engine.

“Oh, sure, sure,” he nods, “We wouldn't want them to recognize Prince Charming here.”

Aemond gives him a slight nod of thanks, as you walk over to him and intertwine your arm with his, smiling softly at him.

He returns your small smile and places one of his hands on your thigh, gently caressing your skin, sending small shivers throughout your body as the whole group moves a little further out into the ocean.

After a while of sailing and no one around, Sam stops the launch and soon enough he along with Chase pull out an old fishing box with some hooks and worms.

“Well, crown prince,” Sam says, jumping to his feet, ”Have you ever been taught to fish?”

Aemond frowns slightly.

“Fishing?” he repeats, ”No. We just bought it.”

“That's what we thought,” Chase replies, with a mischievous grin, "Here too the other heir lord knew nothing," he points to Cregan.

He posts a lazy half smile as he relaxes in the sun's rays along with Alysanne, both wearing sunglasses and simply enjoying the moment.

“Yeah, it's true,” he corroborates.

“So you'll learn today,” Daniel concludes, handing him a cane.

“Is this for real?” asks Aemond, as you laugh.

“As serious as the sea is salty,” Sam replies, ”Come on, it's not that complicated.”

With some skepticism but no complaints, Aemond also gets up and follows the three guys to the bow, while you're left relaxing with Alysanne and Cregan, though you don't miss any of the show.

“Just do this,” Chase tells him, showing him how to adjust the hook line and cast the line into the water.

Aemond watches him closely and, after a few clumsy attempts, manages to cast his.

“Not bad!” you exclaim, encouraging him with a smile.

“That was a disaster,” he tells you, looking a little frustrated by his lack of skill, but also amused.

“You're doing well, you just need a little practice,” Daniel encourages him, who explains the tricks of the trade, but without missing the opportunity to joke.

Although the rods are old and clumsy, they manage to catch a couple of small fish, enough to feel a sense of accomplishment.

It takes Aemond a few minutes to settle in, as the breeze caresses his face and the sight of the calm sea seems to begin to influence his mood and comfort.

And after a couple of practice runs, he throws the line back into the water and after a few minutes, manages to catch something, which sparks cheers and exaggerated applause from the others as he quickly pulls the line as Sam has taught him.

“Look at that!” exclaims Chase, laughing, ”The fishing prince!”

The boys encourage each other, sharing a relaxed, friendly, laughter-filled atmosphere, while you watch everything proudly and happily.

You notice how something has changed in him, like he no longer wears that rigidity that characterizes him. His shoulders are slightly slumped, his posture less tense and he is smiling, really smiling and laughing.

You know this is all he needed to disconnect from everything that haunts him and you feel so happy for him to see him looking this good.

After a while, between them they put everything back together and decide to head back to the beach, but not before stopping by a convenience store to buy some chips and a few beers.

Sam and you volunteer, while Aemond stays in the launch with the others, putting on Alysanne's sunglasses and covering his silver hair with Daniel's cap.

Finally, you return to your usual spot, Black Waves beach, where you sit on the logs around a bonfire and the sunset begins to make its show in the sky.

As you settle in with Aemond, you watch as he looks at the screen of his phone and lets out a long breath as he puts it back in his front pocket. This catches your attention as you see the small but visible frown and you look at him with a soft smile.

“Are you okay?”

He instantly looks at you and nods, trying to smile a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says trying to brush it off.

Just then, you hear the faint sound of when the phone vibrates continuously, indicating an incoming call. Aemond sighs and takes his phone out of his pocket again, where you both see Floris' name on the screen.

Aemond shoots you a glance at your side and sends it straight to voicemail, then places his phone on complete silence and puts it away again.

“She's been calling for hours now. My mom too,” he lets you know.

“And it's not important?” you ask softly.

“No,” he says shaking his head, ”They just want to know where I am.”

“Well, you can tell them so they'll stop calling,” you suggest.

“No, I haven't been home most of the day,” he explains, “They'll try to get me to come back. And I don't want that. I want to…“ he sighs, "I want to stay here a little longer.”

“Okay,” you nod, without a problem.

You take his hand and intertwine it with your own, as the animated guys start talking.

“Alright, Aemond,” Chase says, "Have you ever juggled coconuts?" he asks him as he bends down and picks up three coconuts from the sand.

“Where did you get them?” you ask him instantly amused.

“It's a secret,” he winks at you.

“Is that something people really do?” asks Aemond, amused.

“It is if you're with us,” says Cregan, who appears with three other coconuts in his hands, ”I didn't know either, but they made me learn.”

“Yeah, show him,” Sam tells him, smiling.

“Me first,” Chase interjects, placing himself in the circle first.

He starts juggling them, while Aemond watches him intently,though after a few seconds he drops one, causing a ripple of laughter.

“Dude, shame on you.”

“Weren't you supposed to know?” inquires Alysanne.

“You do it, then,” he challenges her.

Alysanne steps in, taking the coconuts and giving a brief, effortless demonstration. Her moves are fluid and she manages to keep them in the air longer than Chase. And when she finishes, everyone applauds.

“It's a matter of practice,” she says, shrugging, extending the coconuts to Aemond.

“I highly doubt it,” Aemond tells her, but takes the coconuts, willing to give it a try.

After several failed attempts where Alysanne explains along with Sam, he still fails to do it and drops the coconuts to the ground unsuccessfully, though he ends up laughing along with everyone else.

Then Sam stands in the center, juggling and trying the occasional trick, making a spectacle of himself and provoking more laughter at his moves.

“And where did they learn to do that?” asks Aemond with a small smile and interested.

“With the boys in the neighborhood, since we were kids,” says Sam.

Everyone nods, as the atmosphere fills with warmth and the flames of the bonfire dance in the light wind, illuminating everyone's faces as the sunset says its last farewell of the day to bring in the night.

All the guys continue to talk, making the whole group laugh, sharing anecdotes and enjoying the fries and beers while the starry sky and the moon accompany you in the night, as well as the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Aemond at your side watches you with a small soft smile and you return it, as the voices of the boys continue to fill the space you are in.

“I understand Cregan now,” he tells you and you look at him intently, ”They're great guys. It's been a long time since I've felt this comfortable in a group.”

“This won't be the last hangout we have,” you remind him, “Almost every day we meet here. Daniel said next time we should go surfing.”

“I'd love to,” he tells you softly, "Although…" he moves closer towards you, speaking low, ”I'm thinking of inviting them to the yacht.”

You raise your eyebrows, smiling.

“Really?”

“This coming weekend my dad will be going away with my mom on a work trip,” he tells you, “Aegon will probably go partying and stay at some girl's house. Hel and Daeron will have the house to themselves and maybe stay in and watch some movies or something.”

“That's perfect,” you say smiling, ”But, what about Floris?”

“I'll tell her that I'll start my lessons. That way she won't come looking for me. Or my siblings can cover for me in case of anything.”

“Are you sure?” you look at him intently.

“Yeah,” he tells you unconcerned, “But don't tell them anything yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding.

“Okay.”

“Dude, your phone,” Cregan says to Aemond suddenly, pointing to his front pocket with his gaze.

You both look in the same direction and see the light from the screen filter through the fabric, so he pulls it out of his pocket and you both see another missed call from Floris.

His jaw line tenses visibly, and then he slides his finger to check the notifications. Among them, a message from Helaena stands out telling him that his mom is worried.

Aemond sighs, letting out a long exhale that seems to take with it some of the calm he had achieved in the last few hours.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“What's wrong?” you ask him intently.

“I have to go,” he says, putting the phone back in his pocket.

The resignation in his voice is palpable, but there's also a hint of annoyance, as if he doesn't want this night to end. And you watch him silently for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do to comfort him a little.

“I don't want to leave,” he says, his voice low and frustrated.

You grimace slightly and move closer towards him, lifting one of your hands to begin gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to relax him. He instantly closes his eye and takes a big breath, instantly enjoying your touch.

“It's okay,” you murmur, ”We'll go back out with them, don't worry.”

“Yeah, I know, it's just…” he pauses, ”I don't want to go home.”

You are silent for a moment, letting his words settle in the air between you.

“Aemond…” you murmur, wanting to say something to ease that burden he seems to carry.

But before you can continue, he opens his eyes and looks at you with an intensity that leaves you speechless.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly, with a gentleness and a firmness that surprises you.

“What?”

“Yeah," he insists, "Stay with me tonight."

You look at him in surprise, your mind racing a mile a minute.

“You mean… at your place?”

“Yeah,” he tells you a little more animated, excited by the idea.

And you don't know what to say again for a few seconds.

“That's… probably a bad idea,” you tell him softly, ”It's too risky, Aemond.”

He smiles thinly, leaning a little towards you.

“It won't be a bad idea if we're careful. It'll be all right.”

“And how will you be able to get me in?”

“No one will see you. The house is huge,” he tells you nonchalantly, ”We just have to be careful. And tomorrow morning, I'll drive you home.”

Gradually, the idea of going to sleep with him excites you, too, despite the risks. Honestly, you don't want him to leave either, at least not yet. But going with him… it starts to stoke that flame of danger and daring in you.

So with the condition that this can't be a regular thing, your mind finally makes the decision.

Soon after, the two of you say goodbye to the guys. You beg Alysanne to cover for you with her parents one more time, and so you get into Aemond's car. The ride to his house is short, but filled with anticipation.

When you arrive, the sight of his mansion takes your breath away. Lights bathe the imposing facade in a golden glow, and the expansive front garden looks like something out of a postcard.

It's a completely different world from your own, something you always knew, but seeing it up close makes it that much more real.

“I'll go in and talk to my mom first, she must be in the living room,” Aemond tells you as he turns off his car and the two of you are in the huge garage of his house, “I'll see who else is inside and come back for you, okay?”

You nod, feeling a little nervous but excited.

“Okay, but what if someone comes?”

“No one will come. There are all the cars,” he points around, "But if that happens, just hide in here," he points to the inside of his car, "No one will see you."

“Okay,” you nod, ”Just don't take too long, please.”

“I won't, don't worry.”

You stay alone in the car, feeling the seconds seem to lengthen in the gloom of the huge garage.

Your eyes dart around the contours of the space, admiring unwittingly the luxury that surrounds you, the perfectly lined up expensive cars, motorcycles and razers. A world completely unrelated to your own.

Minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps brings you out of your thoughts. Aemond appears by the car door, his face relaxed.

“We're fine,” he says to you in a soft voice, opening your door and extending a hand towards you.

You take his hand and step carefully out of the car, feeling as if you are crossing an invisible line into forbidden territory. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you toward a side entrance that leads to the house.

The door opens with a soft click and you step into the lobby of the house. Immediately, the fresh air and the faint scent of flowers and waxed wood envelop you.

Everything around you seems to glow, from the marble floors to the crystal chandelier hanging majestically from the high ceiling.

“Wow,” you murmur, almost breathless as your eyes roam the space.

Aemond lets out a small laugh, holding your hand more firmly. He leads you down wide hallways that are everything you'd expect; disgustingly rich.

There are decorations that look like something out of a museum and furniture that probably cost more than anything you've ever owned in your life. The crystal chandeliers never seem to end and you pass through a bunch of different rooms like an office, a library, the dining room, a small living room, a game room and so on.

Then Aemond guides you to a grand and majestic staircase with a forged iron railing.

As you go up, you see on the wall pictures in perfectly placed frames of the entire Targaryen family from different years, but you can't linger to inspect too much as you both move on in a hurry.

Finally, you both reach the second floor and he takes you to his room, which is almost at the end of the hallway. He opens the door for you and upon entering, it is also as you expected, simply stunning and expensive.

The room is huge, much bigger than you could have imagined. The walls are painted in dark tones that contrast with the light wood furniture.

A king-size bed occupies the center, with luxurious-looking sheets that seem as soft as a cloud. In front, a large television hangs on the wall and to one side are sliding glass doors leading to a balcony with a breathtaking ocean view.

“So this is the rich life,” you say with a mixture of awe and humor, turning to him, “A gigantic bed, a TV bigger than anything I've ever seen and a balcony with a view of the ocean? Sure, it's completely normal.”

Aemond laughs softly, closing the door behind him.

“It's just a room,” he says as he walks over to his closet which is actually another big room, just like his bathroom.

“It's like an apartment inside a mansion,” you reply, letting out a laugh as you walk over to the bed and run your hand across the expensive looking bedspread.

He takes one of his T-shirts from one of his drawers and returns to his room, handing it to you.

“Here, so you'll be comfortable.”

You take the T-shirt and hold it in front of you. It's soft, cotton and smells faintly of him.

“Thank you.”

As you change in the attached bathroom, you can't help but think about how surreal this all is. You never thought you'd experience living this, even for one night. You feel like a celebrity, in some strange way.

When you return, Aemond is sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes.

“What do you think?” he asks, looking up at you.

“That your bed is delicious,” you reply with a smile as you walk over and sink into the mattress.

Instantly the softness is indescribable and you let out a sigh of pleasure as you settle in.

“Honestly, I don't know how you're going to get me out of here tomorrow.”

He laughs again, dropping his t-shirt to the floor as well as his shorts before joining you on the bed. His skin is exposed, and though you're used to seeing him shirtless by now, something about this situation feels more intimate, more vulnerable.

Aemond settles in next to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His warmth is comforting and you let yourself be enveloped by the sense of security he gives you.

And it feels simply wonderful to be here with him.

“Thank you for staying,” he murmurs against your hair.

You smile softly with tenderness, leaning into him and leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, then bury your face between his neck and chest, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion take hold of you.

You both fall silent, enveloped in the tranquility of the night and the distant sound of the sea breaking against the shore. And the only thing you think before you drift off to sleep is that you don't want tomorrow to come.

All you want is to stay this way with him.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines @valyrianflower

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #modern hotd #modern aemond

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carionto · 1 year ago

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So, uhh, Humans did what they called an "oopsie"

They can turn off stars.

When they elaborated on how their reactors work - true nuclear fusion - they also explained, before the delegates passed out, that their failsafes include high density convection inhibitor rods that shoot out if the power output exceeds what it is currently set to. Except if a manual Overload protocol is engaged. You know, in case they need to go to 400% power. At the risk of blowing up everything. Psychopaths.

Then one of them had an idea. Another phrase the Galaxy must learn to look out for and try to persuade the human who uttered it to not do the idea. They'll still do it, of course, Humans are stubborn like that.

So, some of their ships can transform and double as Warp Gates. Truly fascinating technology, capable only through their absurd energy generation methods and reckless disregard for how the Universe works. They even gave us the blueprints. We thanked them, politely, but we'll have to figure out a safe way to do it first.

Currently their Warp Gates can only make a stable connection to the gravitational center of a large celestial body. As in - stars. Their reactors house miniature stars. They turn those off shockingly regularly for maintenance. One of the few things most of the Galaxy is better than Humanity is making things that don't break themselves through normal operation, but then what's "normal" for them is "excessively insane" to us.

This Human wanted to see what would happen if they sent a big pile of their convection inhibitor rods through a Warp Gate. "Fuck around and find out" is the expression they used, if we are recalling the words correctly.

Well, everyone "found out" that, yes, it actually works, and surprisingly quickly too. The chosen star was a distant Red Dwarf with only uninhabitable planetoids and some asteroid belts and no recorded stations within the system. It took about a week for the first signs of decreased activity to become barely noticeable. It hasn't been long enough to fully end the fusion cycle, but all observations point to the Red Dwarf becoming the first of its kind to retain enough hydrogen to do... we're actually not sure how that will unfold over the coming few million years.

Thankfully, the Human who had the idea was disappointed the star didn't just poof like their contained reactor ones do. The material cost and lengthy process also made it clear it has no real practical application.

Still, technically they can prematurely begin the end cycle of a stars lifespan.

Those of us with more active imaginations might find it hard to sleep at night knowing that, clearly, no Human idea will be left untested...

Oh FUCK! What if th- No. When they fine tune their Warp Gates, could they just send anything anywhere? We're screwed if Humanity ever gets angry.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #carionto

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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months ago

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This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, part two

Part one

Warnings: finally a happy ending! Ntm, jjs a bit of a begger.

After the hospital incident, after being embarrassed and humiliated in front of your brother, your dad and your friends, you decided to cut it off. You didn’t speak to JJ, you didn’t want to speak to him.

Both JJ and Kiara had both attempted to contact you, but always ended up failing, mostly because of your brother or because you ignored the knocks on your door.

While Pope, Cleo and Sarah kept contact with them, you wanted nothing to do with either of them. All three understood and respected it, never pushing you to try and mend your relationship.

You’d been managing to raise your baby girl perfectly fine, with the help of your dad and your brother, fairly well. As well as you could. You raised her for 8 months without any problem.

You managed to avoid seeing him for eight months, until suddenly, you found yourself in the same yard as him.

Your house had been undergoing some maintenance for a couple of days, maintenance you needed to be out of the house for. So, you took Lily, your stuff, and you left, and made the drive to the chateau.

“There’s my favorite niece!” John B said with a smile when he walked outside to help with the bags, he picked her up, rubbing his nose against hers. You smiled at the both of them, watching her babble to your brother.

“She’s your only niece.”

“Shh! She doesn’t need to know that.” He retorted, before giving you a hug as well, grabbing one of the bags from your hands.

“Thank you… for letting us stay, by the way.”

He shrugged, “I’m only letting you stay because of her,” he said, you rolling your eyes while he laughed.

“Oh, Lily, baby, we are gonna have so much fun this week. You wanna see auntie Sarah? Let’s go see-“ He murmured to her while walking away with a bag slung over his shoulders, you grabbing the others and beginning to follow John B into the chateau, when you suddenly heard a car pull up, you turning around to find a familiar ref truck.

Your heart sunk, and it seemed so did his. He was not expecting this right at the bat.

He got out of the car, his eyes wide as you both stared at each other. “Y/n.”

“Don’t… talk to me, Jay..JJ.” You corrected yourself, turning the other way and walking away as fast as you could.

He followed after you, rambling on about how he was sorry and tried contacting you, about how it was a stupid mistake.

John B walked out with furrowed eyebrows, “Yo, what’s-“ he paused upon seeing his old friend, glancing at you, who held tears back, wiping your eyes.

Silence fell between the three of you for what felt like hours, the wind no longer whooshing, the leaves no longer falling. The silence was interrupted by a curious babbling sound, along with the sound of floorboards moving underneath moving knees.

You sucked in a breath, JJ’s eyes falling from John B to his daughter who currently crawled on the floor. His own eyes began to fill with tears. You moved quickly, grabbing her and shielding her from JJ, walking into the guest room at the chateau.

“Is that-“

“She’s not ready yet, JJ.” He spoke firmly.

“Wh-“ he laughed, as if this was some sort of sick joke. “When will she be, John B? I’ve been doing nothing but waiting for 8 months,” he seethed. “I just- I want to see my daughter. There’s nothing wrong with that, dude!”

“Dude, stop yelling.” John B told him, noticing the way his eye bags were sunken in, the way his hair looked unwashed, and the way his breath reeked of alcohol.

“I just wanna see my kid! Y/n!” He shouted in a broken voice, John B sighed when JJ came closer to him, shoving him. John B shoved him back, pushing him back to his truck.

“Leave, JJ.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“JJ.” You muttered out, both of them turning to look at you. John B got off of JJ, JJ swallowing as he looked at the state you stood in.

You came back out, sniffling and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Y/n-“

“If you wanna talk… we can talk.“ You offered, John B glancing between the two of you, before walking away.

“I’m sorry. I am so… fucking sorry, y/n.” He told you, you listening to what he said with no reply.

“Listen, I was drunk, and I was- I was stressed out. I was dumb. It was a-a stupid one time thing, and I’ll forever regret it. Please- you have to understand I was just… stressed.”

“I was the pregnant one. I didn’t cheat on you and I was more stressed than you were, Jj. It’s not an excuse.” You snapped.

“No, you’re right, it’s not… but… I’m owning up to it now, and all I want- all I want is to see my baby girl… I’m- I’m just asking for a chance to be a father, y/n.” He pointed to himself. “Please. I just wanna… I just want things to go back to normal.”

You swallowed, thinking about his words deeply. You wanted things to go back to normal too. “Do you…wanna see her?” You asked him quietly. He nodded quickly, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Can I?”

You walked away, and into the chateau.

“How’d it go?” Sarah asked you as she handed you Lily, you shrugging before walking back outside.

“I’ll tell you when I’m done, I guess.” You replied to her.

You carried her on your hip, swallowing as JJ now stood in front of her, his mouth agape, in awe almost.

“She’s… beautiful.”

You didn’t reply, watching her eyes go to the man in front of her, tilting her head at the blonde, before looking back at you, babbling something incoherent to you.

“Can I…” he cleared his throat, “hold her?”

You stretched your arms out, his hands now reaching for her. He cradled her in his arms, her looking up at him with a confused expression, him letting his tears fall onto her face.

“Hi, baby.” He laughed through the tears. He could see so much of himself in her, he thought to himself. She was perfect.

You watched with your arms folded over your chest, the sight tugging at your heartstrings.

You watched as he gave her a small kiss on the forehead, admiring her for a little longer before handing her off to you.

“Y/n, I know that you don’t trust me, and I know that I hurt you, but if I could do anything to be a part of her life, I would do it.” He was practically pleading at this point, staring at you with teary, wide eyes.

“I wanna be there for my kid, that’s more than my father ever did for me, please, y/n.” He continued, you staring at him, thinking.

“Okay.” You murmured, looking back down at her.

“Okay…?”

“We can… figure something out.”

He smiled to himself, and in his head he pumped his fist up in the air excitedly.

“Thank you.” Was what he said instead with a sigh of relief, you nodding at him, offering him a small smile, your brother coming out soon after, him looking at JJ and then you.

Taglist/ people who liked the last one

@theoraekenslover @rafesgurrrrlll @immyowndefender @barnesboo1967

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj x reader #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj #jj obx #jj obx imagine #jj obx fic #rudy pankow

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twilightkitkat · 4 months ago

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Everyone knows that the MCU is interconnected to set up crossovers and grand finales to arcs, right?

Imagine this: after the events of No Way Home, Peter is living alone. He has nobody who remembers him outside of his Spiderman persona, and the world has forgotten his existence. He's working a shitty job and living in a shitty apartment and is completely isolated from the world.

At the same time, Wade and Logan have started living together after saving the world. They both understand each other in ways that nobody else does. They relate to each other's pain. They begin taking jobs and missions together and learning to truly live instead of just survive.

At this moment, their character arcs moved in opposite directions. Peter went from having it all—friends, family, fame, respect—to having nothing. Meanwhile, Wade and Logan went from having nothing—Wade had lost his sense of purpose in life and girlfriend while Logan had lost the X-men and was outcasted by society—to finally having each other. They are creating their home just as Peter lost his.

But despite this, not everything is going well. Maybe Logan and Wade are struggling due to miscommunication and their insecurities. Maybe a new villain comes along and puts external stress on them. Maybe the timeline is still unstable and they need to keep doing maintenance work to restore it. The point is, there is a stressor.

It is then that their stories intersect.

Wade, who is the only current character known to break the fourth wall. Who would look at Spiderman and know that he's Peter Parker despite him being erased.

Peter, who is completely isolated in a world that has forgotten him. Who sees everything he wanted dangled in front of him each time he passes a billboard with Stark Industries or a group of friends laughing or a parent and their child. Who is desperate for any sense of belonging and feels the loneliness eating away at him.

Wade would run into him while Spiderman was on patrol. He'd be sitting on a building, staring off into the distance forlornly. He'd recognize the loneliness in him and strike up a conversation.

And Peter would nearly cry when Wade offered to buy him a sandwich. For the first time in God knows how long, he felt like someone actually cared about him behind the mask.

And so they started talking. Peter ran into Wade and they'd wave at each other and talk. Wade would get to know Peter as the person and not the hero.

And Wade would know a little too much. Would remember details a little too well. Took to him like an old buddy who he had known for years. (And really, it was the case. Deadpool and Spiderman were old friends... just not in this universe.)

And Peter would latch onto the first person who showed him kindness, even if they're loud and morally questionable and a mercenary. He finally had a friend again. Someone he could just talk to.

And then the conflict in Wade's own life spirals and reaches a head. And for one reason or another, he winds up trapped at Peter's apartment, bloodied and injured.

He'd fought with Logan earlier that day and he was too far. So he showed up at Peter's expecting to get patched up a little and let his healing factor do the work.

...Except he doesn't heal. Something was gravely wrong. He felt hot and dizzy and the wound was beginning to get infected. And Wade busted his phone in the skirmish he got into, so he couldn't communicate with anyone.

(And so he doesn't see the messages from Logan. Demanding where he was, if he was okay, apologizing for earlier and asking him to come back.)

He ends up drifting in and out of consciousness for days, barely on the edge of life. Peter is worried as hell and is trying his best to take care of him despite his tight budget. Neither could go to a hospital because of their mutant status and illegal activities.

Wade is barely conscious enough to talk, let alone tell him his emergency contacts.

And so the days pass until a week has gone by and Logan hasn't heard a word from Wade. And he's freaking the fuck out. Because even if Wade was pissed, he still came back a few hours later so they could talk it out. They never dealt well with separation, especially Logan.

He's been cornering every vaguely shady person on the streets to see if they knew where Wade was. He'd torn up villain bases near their area. Had even fucking considered putting up missing posters because of how desperate he was.

Until he finally gets a lead.

And so, when Peter hears knocking at his door, he goes to answer.

Only to get pinned against the wall by Logan, claws threatening to puncture his neck. A snarl on his lips and a feral look in his eyes, bloodthirsty and on the verge of snapping.

And Peter tries to stutter out words but it's hard when his windpipe is being crushed. This was completely unexpected.

He didn't do anything to piss someone off that badly, right? And how did someone trace his Spiderman identity back to Peter Parker when he'd been so careful?

More importantly—

A shuffling sound came from the couch in the living room.

Wade. Wade was still here.

Peter renewed his struggle, a fierce glare in his eyes. Even if nobody would miss him, he'd make sure nobody could harm his only friend.

"What time is it?" Wade mumbled roughly, sitting up and stretching his sore muscles. He still felt feverish and had a sore throat, but at least he wasn't on Death's Door anymore.

Logan's head snapped in Wade's direction like a bloodhound following a trail. He'd clearly heard him.

Without warning, he threw Peter to the side, who clutched at his throat as he was slammed against the wall.

He was going for Wade. Shit.

He knew Wade had enemies, considering he was a mercenary, but he didn't realize the type of ballpark he was playing in. And Peter knew Wade's healing factor was infinitely stronger than his own... except it wasn't working.

Was he the one responsible for Wade's vulnerable state? Did this man weaken him on purpose so he could take him out?

Peter stumbled to his feet, muscles tensing as he darted out to stop Logan, who seemed hellbent on approaching Wade. But Logan turned the corner just before he could reach him.

He saw Logan register Wade's presence, eyes locking onto him with a single-minded, piercing focus that was blinding in its intensity.

"Hey!" he tried calling out, but Logan wasn't paying attention. Didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings, only looking at Wade with an indescribable mixture of emotions. There were the obvious emotions like anger, but if Peter didn't know any better he'd say the man was looking at Wade with something akin to pure relief, awe, and fear.

Wade glanced over at the man and his eyes widened. "Logan...? Honey badger, you came for me?" His voice was sleep-heavy and the words came out choked.

Wade had been calling the name 'Logan' in his sleep almost every night. When Peter would try to quiet him by brushing his sweat-stuck hair away from his forehead, Wade would latch onto his wrist and wouldn't let go until he cracked open his eyes and saw it wasn't who he wanted.

Peter wanted to ask who Logan was. Who was so important to him that he kept whispering his name when he tossed and turned at night, that he mistook Peter for him and looked disappointed when he realized it was just him (and ouch, sometimes that stung).

But he'd assumed it was someone from Wade's past. Like MJ was to him. Someone important but long gone.

And so when Wade called this man Logan, Peter thought it was him mistaking someone for Logan in a sickness-induced delirium. It wouldn't be the first time.

But Logan stared at him, fists still clenched where his claws protruded through his knuckles. He looked at Wade, searchingly, like his face had the answers to his questions.

And once Wade uttered that name, he launched himself at Wade.

Peter cried out as he tried to catch Logan to stop him from hurting or killing Wade, but he was so much faster than him. He'd crossed the room in the blink of an eye.

Peter looked up, terrified, to see a completely unexpected sight.

The man was clinging to Wade, clutching at him like his life depended on it, shivers wracking his body. And Wade clung to him tighter, threading his fingers through his hair, murmuring softly.

...Huh?

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goodlucktai · 3 months ago

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raised on little light (2/3)

rise of the tmnt word count: 4k pairing: mikey & oc big thank you to @soldrawss for the art included in this chapter and to @mykimouser for making me insane about neutral!michelangelo at all hours of the day title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

2031

Mikey is looking for his little brother. It seems like he spends half his life doing that these days.

The TV is on in Splinter’s room, door ajar but equally as unapproachable as the door to Donnie’s lab, which is shut tight, as usual. Raph’s door is standing open, but his room is empty, because he leaves early for work on the weekdays.

Mikey maneuvers past the closed doors and empty rooms like a professional. He doesn’t even have to think too hard about it anymore.

Rounding the corner to the dining room, Mikey’s stride slows and relief punches an exhale out of him. He doesn’t realize how tense he is until he deflates like a balloon.

Gio is asleep at the table, face half-buried in his folded arms, crossbow and maintenance supplies spread out in front of him. It’s disappointing, but not surprising. He rarely stays in his own room, as if he’s afraid of taking up space that isn’t really his. As if they’re going to change their mind and tell him they do still need it for storage, actually, and he wants to be ready when they do. Mikey’s pretty sure he never fully unpacked his bag.

Sometimes he leaves the lair entirely, and since he’s the most unreliable texter Mikey knows, and has never met a phone call he would answer without a gun held to his head, he might as well fall completely off the grid each time he’s gone. Mikey stays up on those nights, keeping busy in the kitchen, worrying worrying worrying.

He feels too much like Raph when he doesn’t know where the kid is. He understands intimately how overbearing big brothers could be, remembers how a tiny rift had formed between him and Raph when they were young because of it—childish and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things to come, but devastating at the time.

So he tries to channel Leo instead, who had always trusted Mikey to know when to ask for help if he needed it. Tries to make sure Gio never feels like he can’t come home again, with a smile ready for him as soon as he slips silently back through the door.

But last night Gio must have stayed in. There’s a blanket draped over him that Mikey didn’t put there, and Splinter almost certainly hadn’t left his room to put there, which leaves two possible culprits. Raph and Donnie don’t know how to make gestures that Gio can see for what they are, hardly know how to be in the same room as the kid without seeing a ghost superimposed where he’s standing. It leaves a lot of the emotional heavy-lifting on Mikey’s shoulders, but it’s fine. A brother could never be a burden to him.

Mikey can’t give Gio everything he deserves to have, everything that should have been his from the very beginning, but he can give him some things.

And we’ll start, Mikey thinks with the kind of absurd resilience that wouldn’t have been out of place at the actual end of the world, with breakfast.

Gio wasn’t trained in ninja like the rest of them were but his senses are as sharp as any other turtle genetically modified for war. Mikey woke him up with a touch once and the fear response only lasted a handful of seconds but it was enough that Mikey made the executive decision that no one would ever do that again, or else.

Mikey pulls a chair out beside the smaller turtle and sinks into it soundlessly. He traces the newly-familiar white spots on that smoky gray-green face with his eyes, counting and recounting them, even though he knows how many there are. Everything about Gio is at once brand-new and well-loved to him.

After a moment, the only other sound the ancient Snoopy clock counting seconds in the kitchen, Mikey starts to hum. Three little birds sat on my window…

He can’t help remembering another morning just like this one, what feels like a lifetime ago. Mikey, all of thirteen, had insisted on being woken up to make breakfast so he could try a new crumble muffin recipe, but he’d stayed up too late the night before and sleep clung stubbornly to him despite the row of alarms he’d set. Their resident insomniac had been the only one awake, by virtue of not having gone to bed in the first place, and he’d parked himself in the beanbag under Mikey’s hammock and hummed the same song over and over until Mikey woke up. He had it stuck in his head for the rest of the day. They sang “GIRL PUT YOUR RECORDS ON” in the kitchen at the top of their lungs until Donnie sent the group chat a PDF of a noise complaint form, completely filled out.

Mikey hadn’t realized he was taking any of it for granted back then. He would do anything— anything—to wake up that way again. Just one more time.

Beside him, Gio stirs. Once he’s awake he’s alert fast, those big dark eyes sliding open and staying that way, head coming up off the pillow of his arms. He has that look on his face that Mikey would be tempted to call earnest on anyone else.

“Rise and shine, Clementine,” Mikey says brightly, reaching over to rub the back of his fingers against a spotted cheek affectionately. “I was craving breakfast empanadas today and was hoping my best sous chef would be willing to help me out.” Then, deliberately light-hearted, he adds, “Little turtles who skip dinner have to eat extra breakfast, you know. That’s house rule number one.”

Gio blinks at him, his face giving nothing away to the casual observer.

“I thought house rule number one was ‘always get it in writing’.”

Mikey’s smile widens, surprised and pleased every time he plays along.

“That’s number three, actually. Right behind ‘don’t do anything you wouldn’t want recorded and replayed at family functions.’ If you want, I can tell you exactly why that one’s a rule, and why it’s entirely Donnie’s fault.”

Gio does that thing where he assesses Mikey’s expression and tone as though he’s looking for the trap. Mikey weathers it, makes sure his smile doesn’t slip an inch.

Donatello is more of an urban legend to Gio than his actual living brother. After a few hesitant attempts to approach the older turtle that had been shut down completely each time, Gio made the informed decision that that road was closed permanently.

Sometimes Mikey will tell a story, or April, on one of her increasingly sporadic visits to the lair, will lean over and show him a video on her phone, and Gio will listen or watch like he has no idea who the guy they’re talking about could possibly be.

They do their best, but there’s no way to really introduce the Donnie that they know to Gio, because that Donnie only still exists in their stories and videos. The Donatello who was silly, who loved music and theater, who burst into the living room with some new invention or gadget to boast about, had been replaced by one who rarely spoke, who didn’t even have Spotify on his phone anymore since it took up too much space, who kept the lair running only because it was where his family lived but not because he had any lasting attachment to the place, and he certainly didn’t make any unnecessary tech just for fun.

I know you’re still in there, Mikey thinks sometimes.

He’ll bring Donnie lunch and leave it on the table in the lab, and then hold out his arms. Sometimes, Donnie won’t look at him. Sometimes, Donnie will put his tools down and let his little brother crowd in for a hug. He’ll tuck Mikey under his chin and hold him tight, like they were children again and nothing was wrong that couldn’t be made right.

Thank you for staying, Mikey will think, clinging for every second he’s allowed to. I know it’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

The grief is always encroaching, like floodwaters. Rising slow and steady, swallowing up cars and street signs and single level houses, changing the landscape of his hometown until it’s an unfamiliar place. No end in sight. No sign of land.

Someone send us a boat, Mikey wants to cry hysterically. But he knows how stupid that is.

He is the boat.

—

When he met Giorgio for the first time, Mikey was twenty-five and Leo had been dead for ten years.

“Sorry,” Mikey said. His fingers felt numb around the phone. “Could you say that again?”

“A turtle,” Hueso had replied shortly. “I would not have called, but he has familiar eyes. He is not aware of any family in the area. Would you like me to ask him to wait for you?”

Mikey hadn’t tried his portals again since the last disastrous time—since Raph had made him promise to stop—so he knew it couldn’t be Leo. He knew it. Hueso would be able to pick his sobrino out of a million turtles and would have led the call with that. And Leo wouldn’t have stopped for pizza before running back to them, he wouldn’t have stopped for anything. Leo would have been the one to let them know Leo was home.

Still, there was a tiny warbling hope in the bottom of his heart that wailed “maybe, maybe, maybe.” Still, it hurt to feel that hope shrivel up and die when Mikey slammed into the private dining room and found Hueso talking to an unfamiliar mutant with white spots and a black shell and—it was undeniable—Hamato Yoshi’s eyes.

The turtle was small, dressed in dark grays and greens, a strap across his chest that made it clear he was armed by something resting out of sight on his back. He stood with his arms crossed, in a manner that was probably supposed to read as stubborn or defiant, but Mikey clocked instantly as nervous.

This kid didn’t know what he was doing here or who the hell Mikey was and he looked about as comfortable with all the attention as Donnie would have been at that age.

Mikey felt himself soften, some distant part of his heart sitting in disuse and disrepair lurching to life again. Ancestral magic that he had largely turned his back on suddenly stirred, ninpo reaching out fragile feelers toward the person in the room that it recognized as immediately as if it was looking at its own self in a mirror.

“This is one of my creations,” Draxum announced, confirming what Mikey’s heart had already decided. “It must have survived after all.”

“Elaborate,” Mikey said, in a tone that didn’t match the gentle smile he had for the spotted turtle.

“How old are you?” the alchemist had asked instead, which seemed an odd first question to have and didn’t explain literally anything.

“Eighteen,” the spotted turtle replied. Mikey’s brow made a bid for his hairline. He would have been less surprised if the kid had said fifteen. Was he that scrawny as an eighteen year old?

“You hatched at about the same time as the red one,” Draxum said dispassionately, “so you should have been about his age, and he is twenty-seven. And how did you come to be here?”

Gio’s eyes slid away from him, over to Mikey. Mikey didn’t know what his face was doing. He hoped it was encouraging.

“I went through a yellow door,” Gio said. “And I ended up here.”

“By yellow door, I’m assuming you mean a rift in space-time,” Draxum said. “What possessed you to walk into it?”

“Felt safe,” Gio said, and that was the last thing he said about it, expression closing up in a way Mikey was intimately familiar with as I’m done talking and liable to bite if provoked. But Draxum was a lot of things, genius among them, and seemed to already have an idea of what had happened.

Portals could be capricious. The night of Splinter’s mutation and escape from the Hidden City, a machine in Draxum’s original lab had gone haywire as the structure collapsed. Draxum watched as it snatched up various tools and equipment and finally one of the experiment enclosures that Splinter had not been able to reach in time to save its occupant with the four he already carried.

With the machine destroyed, it was impossible to even begin tracking the experiment down to wherever it had ended up. And there were unfortunately small odds that the creature would have survived long on its own wherever the portal deposited it. Draxum had written it off as dead.

But there he was. Ten years displaced, but living and healthy and whole. Apparently he’d been in another dimension all this time, and only came back again because a portal he encountered had looked inviting.

—

And now he’s in Mikey’s kitchen, listening studiously to his brother’s chatter and following instructions with exacting precision, still wearing the ridiculously oversized red sweater Mikey bundled him into the day before. It made Raph’s face do something funny when he saw Gio in it at lunch, but he hadn’t said anything when he saw Mikey hauling it out of the dryer earlier that morning, and he didn’t say anything at the table either.

Over the years and countless wash cycles it’s been worn to unbelievable softness. It used to be that Raph couldn’t keep it in his closet if he tried, caught as it was in a constant rotation between little siblings who loved to wear it, floppy sleeves and sagging hem and all. It’s almost strange to see it again, here under the kitchen lights in this new country they all live in.

Stealing clothes was a baby brother right of passage. And it was just collecting dust in storage anyway.

Gio sees Mikey looking and glances down self-consciously. Then he jolts, and drops the ball of dough in his hands, lifting and twisting his left arm to put it more in the light. Near the elbow of the sleeve is a smudge of flour.

He thumbs at the spot, preoccupied by it. His body language is shrinking because he always makes himself a smaller target when he starts to get anxious.

One day, Mikey is going to find whoever taught him to do that and have words. For now, he rounds the island to Gio’s side and leans against it so he can duck down and peer into that little spotted face. He makes sure to plant his own elbow in the flour dusted across the butcher block counter, sending up a little poof of it as he does.

“Hey, sweet kid, don’t worry about this old thing. It’s already been through everything you can possibly think of,” Mikey reassures, tweaking the hood playfully. “It survived the Paintball War of 2017, it’ll hold up to a little baking accident.”

Gio’s dark eyes lift to meet his, attentive and absorbing everything he sees and so, so careful.

“Raphael won’t get mad?”

Mikey keeps smiling, even though he’d like to start crying.

Of course he won’t, he wants to say. He’s your big brother and he loves you. He’d move heaven and earth for you. He doesn’t know how to say it these days—he doesn’t trust himself to hold people the way he used to, doesn’t know who he is anymore since the shield he used to be was broken—but he’s still Raph. Our Raphie. I promise, it’s still him.

Gio had never been lifted up into strong arms and tossed in the air until he laughed, caught safely and held tight like those arms would never get tired of holding him. He had never crawled under the blankets in a room humming and blinking with electronics after a nightmare, resting his head on a broad shoulder and falling asleep to a low voice rattling off his favorite explanation of gravity—a force that held everything down, pulled everything together, that could always be counted upon to keep you. He had never snuck out for brunch, just him and someone who saw him more clearly than he could ever see himself, who knew when a stack of French toast and a string of Snapchat selfies and a little mischief was exactly what he needed.

Gio had never had any of that. He had been alone since he was freshly mutated and abandoned by pure chance, and now he was barely nineteen and he didn’t know how else to be. He didn’t have the first clue, but he was so willing to learn. He soaked up attention like a plant starved for sunlight, petals reaching endlessly for an end to the dark.

I wish you had been there, Mikey thinks sometimes when he looks at him, heart breaking with the truth of it. We would have held you. You wouldn’t even know how to be alone. You wouldn’t be worried about a stain on a sweater.

“He won’t get mad,” Mikey says instead. He channels his most charming brother, the one who could sell water to a fish, who could talk his way out of anything, who convinced his family to keep hoping even when all hope seemed lost. “And hey, if he brings it up, we’ll just blame the cat.”

The corner of Gio’s mouth twitches, and then he smiles despite himself, as buoyed along as Mikey always was when Leo was silly with him, and says, “We don’t have a cat.”

“Maybe I’ve just been waiting for an excuse to get one!”

At that point, a burst of white noise from the living room cuts over whatever Gio might have been about to say. It sounds like the roar of wind from an open window of a car going seventy down the highway. It cuts off, and then something clatters noisily, and Gio’s reluctantly amused expression vanishes into alarm.

They don’t exactly get a lot of surprise visitors down here. He wouldn’t recognize the familiar sound of transportation-by-time-scepter, followed by the even more familiar sound of its clumsy wielder tripping and knocking something over immediately upon arrival.

“Oops—helloooo?”

“In here, Renet,” Mikey calls back, nudging his shoulder into Gio’s so he knows not to worry.

The timestress bumbles in, scepter tucked into the crook of her arm so she has both hands free to fix her braids. She’s smiling all big and crooked and sweet, mouth open to greet Mikey the same enthusiastic way she always greets him, but she stops dead in the doorway when she catches sight of the second turtle in the room.

Renet takes one look at Gio and says, “Oh! Well, you don’t belong here at all, do you?”

It’s been a long time since Mikey has felt like screaming at her, but the way his little brother absorbs that blow without flinching is enough to get him on his feet.

“Hey, Nettie, can we talk in the hall?” he says with a brightness he doesn’t feel. “Georgie, I’ll be right back, okay?”

Gio dips his head in a nod, slowly rolling dough in his hands again, and Renet follows Mikey out of the room like someone who knows they’re about to face the firing squad.

“I did not mean it like that,” is the first thing she says when it’s just the two of them. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Mikey does know that somewhere in the back of his mind. Renet is his friend and she’s never been anything but kind to him. If they had met when they were children, they probably would have gotten along like a house on fire.

There was a time when he only saw the best in people, but the idealism had been carved out of Mikey when his portal to the prison dimension failed to open.

Some days, Mikey looks at Renet and can only see the person with time itself at her disposal, the past and future spread out like a choose-your-own-adventure book—the person with the power to help, to change things, who took Mikey’s countless, desperate pleas to be allowed to save his brother and held them tenderly like they were important to her and still told him no.

Some days, that “no” is the most significant thing she ever said to him.

“He’s my brother,” Mikey says. “He belongs wherever we are.”

“Of course he does,” Renet says, brown eyes soft. “Mike, of course he does. That’s not what I meant.”

When they move back into the kitchen, introductions are made properly, and Renet makes it a point to clarify that she’s glad to finally meet him.

Giorgio is watching them with those eyes that take in everything. Deep and trusting when he looks at Mikey, sharpening into something calculative when he shifts his gaze toward Renet.

Looking back, Mikey will recognize it as the moment he lost him.

“Smells pretty good in here, boys!” Renet says, swanning over to the stovetop. “Oh, is that chorizo? Mike, tell me you’re not making empanadas! I already ate on my way over!”

“Then you won’t need to stay for breakfast,” Mikey sing-songs, feathers still ruffled. Then, because he feels bad for the way she deflates at the blatant dismissal, adds, “If you want to stick around, you can take some back with you to Null Time. Just don’t let that jerk Savanti have any, I don’t like his vibe.” “I swear,” Renet says, hand to her heart.

“You talk about time travel like it’s something you can do,” Gio says suddenly. “Is it?”

The air in the room suddenly feels much thinner than before. Renet looks at Mikey quickly before answering.

“Sure, Gio. I’m a timestress—or, you know, I’m a student now. Basically an unpaid intern. But one of these days I’ll be the real deal.” She winks at him, and Gio gazes back at her placidly.

“So you could send someone back in time? To stop something bad from happening?”

Oh, no, Mikey thinks.

“I could,” Renet says. To her credit, she doesn’t sound as bone-tired of this conversation as she must be. “But I can’t. There are so many rules, and for good reason! One little slip-up could be an absolute disaster. It won’t do you any good trying to change the past if you end up destroying the present and the future while you’re at it, right? I’m barely allowed to look at this thing, much less use it,” Renet goes on, wagging the priceless time scepter around like it’s a rubber spatula.

“But you could,” Gio says. “If we followed all the rules. If we figured out a way—”

“Georgie,” Mikey interjects.

“I’ll tell you what I told Mike, baby,” Renet says gently. “It can’t be done. He belongs here.”

Gio says, “But I don’t. You said that.”

“Stop,” Mikey says, not recognizing his own voice.

But it’s too late. It was too late when he tried to open a door inside the prison dimension, because Leo was already dead inside.

He was already dead inside, Draxum had said, clinical in a way that helped to distance himself from the hurt, but also distanced himself from the ones hurting, clinical in a way that made Mikey bare his teeth and say things he couldn’t take back. That’s why you couldn’t reach him. It wasn’t your fault. There wasn’t a point for you to anchor off of, there was no other end for your line to reach. He was already dead inside. He was already gone.

Mikey stares at Gio, the tuck of his chin as he looks back down at the dough on the counter. He’s unwilling to argue with Mikey, but that stubbornness is an innate family trait. There’s no way he’ll give it up now that he’s got his teeth sunk into the idea. Mikey knows what it looks like when a brother is about to leave. Mikey knows what it feels like when they’re already gone.

When he was younger, he was so angry. He was bursting with potential, with possibilities, his magic a wounded, snarling creature in his heart. It’s not fair that he failed. It’s not fair that he didn’t save his brother, that his love wasn’t enough to punch through the prison dimension and wrap Leo in warmth and light and bring him home. It’s not fair that no one was willing to help him.

Fine, he had thought, fine! I’ll do it myself!

Renet had explained to him over and over that his power had more to do with space than time. Casey Jr. said that he’d been sent back in time by his Uncle Michelangelo, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Casey’s arrival in the past had created another universe, parallel to the former. That was Mikey’s power—he could affect and even create other timelines, which was powerful and amazing, but not true time travel. Nothing he did could change his own reality, the one he was living in, because he had already lived it. He couldn’t get back what he had lost.

Mikey plunged ahead anyway, desperate. He could make it work. He could make a change. Even if it didn’t change anything here, he could find another world and save its Leo and—and maybe that could be a start. Maybe he would finally get his head up above water, and stop drowning for just one second of the day, maybe he’d be able to take a full breath for the first time since his brother disappeared on the other side of a closed door.

He didn’t wait for permission or approval. He slunk off into a tunnel a mile away from home and drew the circles himself. Lifted his hands and filled them with power, until it felt like he was holding the sun. And it hurt, of course it did. It burned all the way through. But he was hurting anyway.

A portal opened, a pale yellow window. Mikey looked through it, and saw himself on Staten Island, ripping open a hole in the universe and saving his brother.

What?

He looked again, over and over, at least half a dozen times—and every time, he looked into a universe where Leo didn’t die. Where Mikey saved him, or Raph scooped him up before he went diving off the Technodrome to catch Mikey and Donnie, or Donnie flew back up to Leo with a rocket and yanked him back through the door before Casey managed to close it. Over and over and over, Leo didn’t die.

So it’s just me, Mikey realized. I’m the one who got it wrong.

Raph followed the detonation of ninpo and hysterical screaming through the maze-like tunnels and found him suspended in midair. Rock and rebar were flying around Mikey, everything not nailed to the earth turned dangerous projectiles, his arms burning and flaking away into pieces that disintegrated when they met open air.

His big brother’s expression had been terrified as he pulled Mikey down into his arms and held him through the shrieking storm he’d made. One hand on the back of his head to keep his face tucked safely into Raph’s scarred shoulder, the other arm cradling him like he was half his age, like he was still someone’s baby.

“Angie, it’s okay,” Raph had said, low and aching. His voice was a rumble beneath Mikey’s ear, barely audible but just loud enough. “It’s okay. You can scream, you can bring the whole damn city down if you want. But you gotta let go, sunshine. Let go, Mikey.”

I don’t want to I don’t want to I don’t want to I don’t want to! Mikey wailed, clutching at Raph’s jacket with hands that felt like two white-hot points of pure agony, clinging, holding on. If he let go, Leo stayed gone. If he let go, he really didn’t love Leo enough to save him.

But Raph pressed his cheek to the top of Mikey’s head, and his next breath shuddered in his chest, and he whispered, “I know you don’t want to, I know. But this isn’t gonna save him. You’re just hurting yourself and L—Leo would hate that. He’d tell you to stop.” One hand crept over to cover both of Mikey’s, squeezing them tight. “Come on, big man. It’s okay. Let go.”

He let go. The magic faded, dropping everything it had picked up back to the tunnel floor with dull thuds. His hands spasmed wildly, grip nonexistent, and Raph just kept holding them as he carried Mikey home.

Mikey sobbed for the rest of the night, what felt like hours and hours. Raph reverted to turtle sounds when nothing he said seemed to get through, and Donnie crept under the blanket and plastered himself to Mikey’s carapace so that they had “A little citrus sandwich!” Leo would cheer, the silliest and sweetest turtle in the world until Mikey finally cracked a smile.

His family made him promise not to try again. It’s not worth it, they said, a unified front—and as much as the words hurt Mikey to hear, it must have hurt his siblings and father just as much to say them. We can’t lose anyone else, they were ready to beg, because they didn’t know it was his fault Leo was gone. They didn’t understand how badly he’d failed them all. If they did, they wouldn’t have been so grimly determined to protect Mikey’s life from his own hands.

It felt like a betrayal at the time, but he understands now.

It’s not worth it, he thinks, staring at Gio. I can’t lose anyone else, he’s ready to beg.

But Mikey knows what it looks like when a brother is about to leave. Mikey knows what it feels like when they’re already gone.

What he doesn’t know is how to love someone well enough to keep them.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #hamato michelangelo #rottmnt oc #my writing #tmnt fic #the archer au #hamato giorgio

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