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andvys · 2 days

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eighteen ⭐︎ Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut smut smut, fluff, mentions of bullying, mentions of the upside down, unprotected sex, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve takes another step towards you, one that might change everything, hopefully for the better.

Word count: 9.7k+

Author's note: always a pleasure working with @hellfire--cult hehe. we're getting closer to the best scenes roe ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

A shrill noise, distant ringing sounds through the house. You’re in and out of sleep as you try to register where the sound is coming from, you open your eyes to the bright lights coming from the TV in your living room, a groan falls from your lips and you squint your eyes when you feel the pain in your neck from the uncomfortable position you had fallen asleep in. You rub your tired eyes and turn your head to look at your best friend who is sleeping deeply on the other side of the couch, snoring loudly and completely unfazed by the flashing lights from the horror movie playing on your TV screen or the loud ringing of the telephone.

The obnoxious sound coming from the kitchen continues, forcing you to get up. You nearly trip over Eddie’s sneakers as you rush out of the living room and into the hallway, your mind is still sleeping, your eyes still tired, the ringing hurts your ears and you grab the receiver as soon as it’s in reach.

“Hello?” You grumble, leaning your head against the wall and closing your eyes again as you stand in the dark kitchen.

“Hey Blondie.”

The sweet sound of his voice fills your heart with life and your stomach with butterflies, your eyes shoot open and you instantly straighten your back.

“Steve?” Your voice only above a whisper as you hold the receiver a little tighter than before.

“Did I wake you, honey?” He murmurs, sending shivers down your spine with the raspiness in his voice. “I’m sorry if I did, I-I just wanted to hear your voice… I uh, I just dropped Robin off, we talked for a while.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes widen.

He wanted to hear your voice.

He called just to hear your voice.

He makes your heart swell in your chest just with a few simple words, words that hold so much meaning to you.

But then you remember what happened only a few hours back.

And just like that the swelling and the warmth in your heart fleets away and anxiousness fills it instead.

What did they talk about?

Robin didn’t seem quite fond of you when you left his car earlier, the tone in her voice and the glare that she directed at you were proof of that.

What if she talked some sense into him and told him to stop seeing you, that you are both going nowhere with this?

“Oh…” You mutter, not knowing what else to say.

You play with the cord, wrapping it around your finger as you start bouncing your knee, waiting for his next words.

“Are you okay?” You add in concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay. She uh, she won’t say anything so… we can still… if you want?” He asks and clears his throat to hide the shakiness in his voice but you caught it. “Because I wanna keep doing it.”

If you want?

You’d keep going with this for the rest of your life if he wanted it, no matter how badly it hurts to be nothing but a little secret, not having him at all, would hurt so much more.

Relief follows quickly, despite the anxiety that still lingers but something tells you that Robin won’t be as accepting of it as Eddie is.

“I want to keep seeing you too, Steve.”

You hear his breathing, the way it stutters, the way it always does before a smile appears on his face. It makes your own lips curl into a smile as your shoulders relax and you slump against the wall.

“Good,” he whispers and you hope that you aren’t mishearing the happiness in his voice.

“Good,” you repeat after him, unable to fight the smile off your face.

You want to ask how the conversation went, what she asked, what she wanted to know but you don’t want to ruin this moment between you.

You can leave it for another time, you can wait, just like you always do.

“Is Eddie still there?”

“Yeah, he passed out on the couch and I’m afraid he’ll wake up with a stiff neck tomorrow.”

Steve’s chuckle makes your stomach flutter again.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You nod with a smile on your face, “yeah.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come home with you,” he murmurs after a moment of silence.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying not to sigh, trying not to show how sad you are that he isn’t here with you. The nights you spent alone in your bed are long over. “You needed to talk to Robin…”

He is silent, for a long moment he says nothing and only breathes as he stands in his kitchen, the only source of light coming from the small lamp on the counter, he stares into nothing as he contemplates asking if he can come over because he doesn’t want to spend the night without you, he doesn’t want to go to sleep without the warmth of your body atop of his, your soft breathing on his skin and your hands holding onto him as you unknowingly cling to him in your sleep, he doesn’t want to miss it, not even for a single night.

“Steve?”

Your voice sounds like a blessing to his ears now, the emotions that rush through him are no longer confusing him.

“Yes?”

He waits for you to speak but you are hesitating, only your soft breathing sounds through the phone. He hopes that you’ll ask him to come, he hopes that he can wrap his arms around you tonight, after all.

“... Eddie ate your pringles.”

He raises his brows and tilts his head to the side, this is not what he wanted to hear but he can’t help but laugh.

“And your butterscotch ice cream too.”

He leans his head against the wall behind him, a smile of amusement appearing on his face.

“I had to hide your kitkat’s so he wouldn’t eat them too.”

He closes his eyes and listens to your voice, waiting for you to continue. You could talk about anything to him, literally anything – gossip, music, make-up, clothes and shoes, the weather or some random movie he has never seen, he’ll happily listen to you.

“But he found them…” You say with a giggle, “I don’t know where all that food is going! Did you see how many burgers he ate at Hopper’s?”

No, no he really didn’t pay attention to your best friend, he was too busy watching you.

“He might have a hole in his stomach.”

You chuckle, “he might, yeah, or he just gets the worst munchies after he gets high.”

“Yeah, speaking of, we haven’t done that in a while.”

The last time you got high together, you didn’t get the munchies, no, you got something entirely else, something much more satisfying. It started with slow kissing, soft touches and desperate moans, you made out and undressed each other, you marked his skin and he did the same to yours and left them in places only he could see, he sank to his knees and unraveled you with his tongue, he tore out the sweetest sighs and the prettiest moans from you and now that he thinks back to that moment, he can’t help but wonder what exactly he was high on, drugs or you?

“What, getting high? We should do that but we’ll have to buy new snacks first, Eddie ate all your favorite ones and I definitely need to stock up on chips and candy but whenever I get high I just want to eat pizza and pasta and uh… I should probably stop talking about food or else I’ll get hungry again,” you murmur the last part and place a hand on your stomach when you feel it grumbling.

He smiles fondly and an idea pops in his head.

"Pasta, huh?" He mumbles as he takes a look around his kitchen, “you’re staying with me tomorrow night, right?”

“...If you still want me to, yes.”

After his realization, he wouldn’t even mind you staying with him permanently and these thoughts swirl inside his head in full honesty.

“I do want you to,” he nods even though you aren’t there to see, “well, I promised that I’d cook for you, remember?”

Your cheeks heat up at his words and the permanent smile on your face grows bigger.

“Mhm.”

“Let me cook for you tomorrow night, Blondie.”

You bite your lip, unsuccessfully holding back the grin as giddiness rushes through your bones, making you unable to stand still.

“I won’t say no to that, Steve.”

Steve’s cheeks almost hurt from the grin on his lips as he heard the excitement in your voice, his own growing bigger and bigger as he already begins to count down the minutes until you’re back in his arms and here with him, hearing your voice isn’t enough, he needs to see you, to feel you, he needs you by his side.

But for now, this will have to do.

You both talk, not minding the late hour in the slightest as you both stand in your kitchen’s and giggle into your phones, feeling like teenagers all over again, each of you wearing lovesick smiles on your faces and happiness in your eyes, fluttering feelings in your hearts and in your stomachs – reactions and feelings now mutual and no longer one sided.

Your teenage self would stare in awe if she saw you now, the happiest smile would play on her lips, she might even be jumping around.

King Steve would be… surprised but maybe not unpleasantly so, there was more to him than he ever wanted to admit.

Steve knows it now.

When he hears your giggle, that sweet sound that lights up everything inside of him now, he knows.

He never wants to miss your laughter again, he never wants to miss your voice, he never wants to miss you. He doesn’t even want to hang up the phone, not even when you make the promise that you will call him again with the phone upstairs in your room, when your makeup is off and you’re comfortable under your warm covers.

And you, you rush out of the kitchen the moment you hang up the phone, with a fluttering heart and huge smile on your face, you make your way back into the living room, despite knowing you’ll be unsuccessful in waking your best friend and trying to get him into the guest room.

A part of you feels relieved to see him asleep though – you don’t need him to see your blushing face.

He is snoring into one of the pillows, his bangs covering his eyes, he is taking over the entire couch now, his knee angled weirdly as his arm hangs down, fingers grazing the carpet. You chuckle to yourself and step towards him, you lean down and wrap a gentle hand around his wrist, bringing his arm back up so he won’t deal with any soreness in the morning. You reach for a blanket and place it over his body before you turn off the TV.

And as you quickly make your way upstairs, rushing into your bathroom to brush your teeth and take your makeup off, Steve is already in bed, staring at the phone on his nightstand, waiting for your call.

With his arms tucked behind his head, the covers over his body, he feels warmth surrounding him as your smell lingers in his room, on the covers and the sheets, the pillow that is now yours – your side of the bed empty to his dismay, it almost feels weird to lay here without you when only months back, this was all he knew, an empty bed that he had never shared with anyone until you stepped into his life and came to steal his heart.

And he never wants to share it with anyone else again, only you.

The ringing of the phone doesn’t even last for two seconds before he picks it up and speaks your name into the receiver, earning a breathy chuckle from you.

“Missed me?”

He hears the rustling of your sheets and how you try to get comfortable in your bed – oh, how he wishes he was there with you.

“Mhmm thought you went to sleep without me,” he murmurs into the phone as he pulls at the cord of the telephone and turns on his side, sinking his face into your pillow and breathing in your scent.

“Without talking your ear off first? Never.” You joke.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “you can talk my ear off anytime, honey. Tell me about your day.”

“We spent half of the day together.”

“Exactly, half.” He says as a yawn escapes him and his eyes grow tired, lashes beginning to flutter. “And half of that day was spent listening to the teens bickering.”

“Okay, yeah you’re right,” you say with a smile on your face and sink deeper into the side that you don’t usually sleep on, you breathe in the cologne that lingers on your pillow and close your eyes as you start talking about anything that comes to mind, the movie you watched with Eddie, the shopping trip you went on with El and Max a few days back, the pretty necklace you saw in the small jewelry shop downtown, the flowers that started growing in your garden, your niece and how much you miss her.

A smile tugs at his lips and he feels calmness in his chest, your voice makes him feel safe, so safe that it lulls him into sleep only minutes later as he lies in bed surrounded by the smell of you and the sweetest sound in his ear.

And you don’t notice at first, continuing to ramble about something completely unimportant before you register the utter silence on the other line.

“Stevie?”

A light snore echoes, making you giggle when you realize that he had fallen asleep.

You hold the receiver tighter in your hand and hold the covers against your chest, closing your eyes and staying on the line, listening to his breathing. You wish you could be with him, lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat instead.

“Good night,” you whisper softly, though wishing you could say something else, something more.

Music plays in the background, some Tears for Fears song. The mouthwatering smell of food lingers in the air, making your stomach grumble in anticipation, you sip on your cold white wine as you watch him with a smile on your face and blushing cheeks.

He looks good, he always does but there is something more about him tonight, perhaps it’s the way he looks so sexy in his tight fitted black tank top and his Levi’s, arms sunkissed and his freckles and moles on full display for you, his hair messy yet styled perfectly or maybe it’s that slight rosy color in his cheeks along with the glowing in his eyes, the look of happiness deeply etched into his soft features or maybe it’s the fact that he is cooking for you.

All day you had been so nervous, you paced around the house and busied yourself with cleaning and organizing drawers and your closet, feeling as though you were waiting on a date when you don’t even know what it feels like to go on one. This isn’t a date, no matter how much it felt like it when you started preparing for the night, when you took your sweet time washing your hair and scrubbing your skin soft, shaving and moisturizing every part of your body, putting makeup on your face and curlers into your hair, you painted your nails his favorite color and put on a dress that you wished would make him swoon.

And it did, it does make him swoon, everything about you now does.

You nearly knocked him off his feet when you appeared on his doorstep in this pretty new outfit that shows off your beautiful body and your soft skin that he craves to feel on his constantly. For the first time, Steve didn’t want to rip it off of you and take you, he found himself wishing to take it off slowly, kiss every inch of you softly and feel you in a whole new way, and he told himself he would, that he would take his time with you tonight, though it felt hard to keep his hands to himself when you walked through the door, he wanted nothing more than to pull you against him and kiss you breathless but not yet, he told himself, not yet.

“It smells so good already,” you smile, watching how he stirs the sauce as you breathe in the smell of garlic and cheese.

“Just wait until you taste it,” he winks at you.

“So cocky,” you tease him with a chuckle, taking a sip of your wine before you step closer to him.

“Well, you always love my breakfasts, honey,” he murmurs, putting the spatula down and checking on the pasta before he turns his body to you, looking you up and down with a lick of his lips. He steps closer to you and reaches his hand out to touch your waist, tearing a shaky breath out of you.

You gulp. The smell of his cologne, the touch of his hand nearly cause your knees to buckle – it’s almost funny how your body still reacts like this, after everything you have done together, you still blush, you still swoon, your heart still flutters.

Steve bites his lip as his eyes look at your own, his hand reaches for the glass in your hand and he takes it from you, putting it down on the counter before he grabs your waist with both hands, taking you by surprise when he picks you up with ease, his lips curl into a smirk when a small gasp escapes you and you clasp your hands around his biceps, holding on tightly, even when he places you on the counter, you still hold onto him. He pushes your legs apart a little, letting his hands move from your waist to your thighs as he steps between them.

You suck in a sharp breath, your cheeks are burning under his gaze, your skin heating up beneath his palms as his fingers disappear underneath your dress.

His lashes kiss his skin as he keeps blinking, his hazel eyes gazing into yours so differently than usual and it drives your heart crazy.

But despite how bad you want to let yourself fall into delusions that there might be something other than lust in his eyes at this very moment, you have to remind yourself of what this is and what this isn’t supposed to be.

“Mhm, your breakfasts are very good,” you nod, “but who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever cook dinner for me, a fancy one too.”

Steve chuckles, leaning much much closer and deciding to make your insides tingle even worse than before when he brings his hand up towards your face and tucking the fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

“Who would’ve thought that you would ever sit on my kitchen counter?” He teases, tilting his head to the side as his hand slips down your body and grabs at your hip. “I think your teenage self would gasp and glare at the you now.”

A giggle falls from your lips, you shake your head – he couldn’t be more wrong.

“Yeah, and King Steve would pour the wine over your head if he saw you cooking dinner for his number one enemy.”

Steve chuckles.

“Enemy,” he repeats after you as his eyes crinkle in amusement, “that’s cute.”

Does he know what his words do to you?

Does he know what his touch causes?

Does he know that your heart feels as though it will beat out of your chest after every small act of his?

Because something inside of you, tells you that he is starting to know. His touch is softer, his eyes are too.

“Cute?” You smirk and speak out confidently even though your palms grow sweaty and you suddenly feel shy beneath his gaze. “You think us being mean to each other was cute?”

Steve shakes his head at you and to your disappointment, he steps away and returns back to the stove that he turns off after checking on the pasta. He reaches for a towel and wraps it around the handles of the pot, taking it off the stove, he steps further away from you and towards the sink.

“No, you thinking that we were enemies is cute.”

You press your palms against the counter and tilt your head to the side, your hair that he just tucked behind your ear, falling back in front of your face. You squint your eyes at him as a curious smile appears on your lips. “Were we not?” You ask, wondering what he saw you as during one of your worst times in your life.

“I don’t think you’d be sitting here in this cute little dress if you were,” he smirks, winking at you before he turns away from you to drain the water from the pot, tilting his head back to avoid the steam.

And you are grateful that he isn’t looking at you right now, the heat in your cheeks worsens and you suddenly don’t know what to do with your hands.

You’re no stranger to Steve’s flirting, but it’s usually a little less intimate and under circumstances different from these, usually his flirty comments are there just to get in your pants – at least that’s what you think.

“So… what was I then?” You ask, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to show how nervous his behavior is making you today.

Steve places the pot back on the stove and he throws the towel over his shoulder and glances at you, a striking feeling cursing through him and catching him off guard. The evening sun is still high in the sky, shining through the windows and casting a golden glow over the kitchen and over you, kissing your beautiful skin and your shiny hair, the pretty color in your eyes glowing just like the rosy blush you put on your cheeks, the color matching your lipstick and the little dainty flowers on your dress, your lashes flutter every time you blink, your lips parting as you watch him with a cute look of curiosity in your features, your chest rises up and down softly, he can see the way your breathing stutters the longer you look at him though, it makes his lip twitch into a soft smile.

He feels the beat of his heart, the fluttering and the sensation that has him in a chokehold, you steal his breath away, all the goddamn time, even when you’re not near, just the thought of you, the reminder of your touch and the image of you beneath his body is enough to nearly sink him to his knees.

He stares at you, finding himself unable to look away and snap back.

You look angelic under this golden light and he can’t stop from drinking you in, his eyes taking in every spot on your face, every feature, every edge, every curve – features he once thought were so sharp and shadowed by meanness are actually nothing close to that.

You are soft, you are so gentle and vulnerable, nothing close to the girl he once thought you were.

You showed him a side of you only the closest ones get to see. He should’ve known it was there, even before knowing you.

He should’ve known when you jumped in to help fight against Vecna, when you were so protective over Max and Lucas, when you jumped in after him and saved him from the bats despite being a stranger of the horrors that waited for you on the other side, when you put a comforting hand on Eddie’s when he seemed anxious days and weeks after you were both released from the hospital, when he saw the sadness in your eyes after your fight during that one game night, when he saw how you treated your niece and the fourth of july – the night that changed everything.

You were always right there, right before his eyes, always in reach yet never close enough to actually see.

But now he sees you, the real you that you still try to bury underneath that rough exterior that is slowly crumbling, more and more, little by little.

“Steve?” Your unsure voice calls out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the kitchen. You are staring at him, a flustered expression deep in your features as you look into his eyes.

He doesn’t shy away from you, from the fact that he’s been caught staring as he lost himself in his thoughts.

“Sorry… What? Got– I got a little lost there a bit.”

You clear your throat, surprised by his words, you straighten your back and blink.

“W-What were we… if we weren’t enemies?”

Steve watches the way your lips move, the way you shift on the counter and pull your hands on your lap where your dress rides up the slightest bit, the way your perfume makes him want to bury his face in your neck and inhale more of it, the way you seem to become prettier and prettier, each passing second.

He has to force himself to look away from you so he can come up with the right words. He cranes his neck and looks up at the ceiling, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips.

“Well…”

What were you to each other?

What were you to him?

Steve truly never saw you as an enemy, he didn’t like you, he couldn’t stand you for reasons he only now begins to see and understand, but you were never once his enemy.

“I wanted to rip your hair out sometimes,” he jokes, making you chuckle, “but… I never wanted to make your life miserable. We weren’t in the same… groups or mindsets… but that never made us enemies.”

A surprised but soft chuckle escapes you as you look up at him, your eyes trailing from his face to his neck where the hickeys that you have left are so visible to you.

You believe him.

As mean as he could be, there was never an evil side to him that wanted people to suffer or feel bad. Though you did feel miserable because of him but it was never Steve’s fault, it was your own, only your heart was to blame. If it didn’t get so attached to him, if it wasn’t his from the moment you laid your cynical eyes on him, his actions and words wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest, you would’ve brushed them off, you would’ve brushed him off, but you couldn’t, you were done for.

But even if you could change it, if you could take your heart back and change your own feelings, you wouldn’t have done it, not even back then when you suffered nothing but sadness and heartache. Maybe you’re a masochist, or maybe just a hopeless romantic with too much hidden hope – hope that you yourself didn’t even want to admit to having, not until recently.

“Hmm,” you hum and hook your finger around his belt, pulling him closer and between your legs, “and what am I to you now?”

Your question catches him off guard once more, the look in your eyes so hopeful, though his own cannot see because the panic in him rises so quickly that it steals his breath away.

What are you to him?

What are you both to each other?

He wishes you were his, he wants you to be his, and after last night’s realization, after seeing what he’s been craving all along, he wants you to be his girl, his only, tonight and for always.

He doesn’t want this to be a short summer, he doesn’t want this to be a temporary relationship – he wants more, he wants a future, a future with you.

But what do you want?

What can he say to you when he only wants one thing?

Steve knows exactly what to say, but he can’t give you the truth now, can he?

He doesn’t want to ruin this, this night or this thing between you – he needs to find out more, he needs to be more sure before he risks something.

“You’re my… friend.”

You try not to flinch at that word, you try to hide the pain in your eyes and the physical reaction from the stab in your heart.

Of course this is what you are to him.

A friend.

“We’re friends,” he whispers.

And you don’t even notice just how forced his own words come out of his mouth, how his eyes shift and the excitement leaves his features for a moment, how he doesn’t seem fond of his own answer.

The bitterness on your tongue spreads and you have to reach for your glass of wine to take a sip and swallow it down.

Tension rises between you but only for a moment because you both refuse to let a few words ruin this night for you.

“Friends,” you nod and you too miss the way he flinches now, the way he scrunches his eyes as though pangs of pain hit him out of nowhere, the way he still places his hands on your thighs, the way a friend definitely shouldn’t.

But you aren’t really friends are you?

Because friends aren’t supposed to be this close and look at each other so longingly, they shouldn’t reach for one another the moment they’re close enough to touch, they shouldn’t meet up in secret to spend nights together and sit at dinner tables with each other, stare at one another with shiny eyes and giddy smiles as their hearts beat in sync through every emotion, they shouldn’t stare at each others lips and wait for the right moment to kiss, their fingers shouldn’t touch while they’re eating their dinner.

And they certainly shouldn’t do this.

Your lips are locked with his, you are kissing each other feverishly, your fingers are lost in his hair, his are digging into your sides as he pushes you towards his bed, not once did he break the kiss on the way up to the second floor, despite the giggles that threatened to escape when you both tripped a few times.

Your heart is beating strongly against your ribcage, your skin feels hotter than ever as moans echo through his room.

Steve’s lips mold against yours so perfectly, his hands hold you so tightly yet so gently and something feels so different today, feelings that are much more intense than usual are on overdrive tonight, something in the way he holds you feels so raw, so real.

When your head hits the pillows and his chest presses against yours as he hovers over you, you remove your hands from his hair and slip them down his chest, reaching for the hem of his shirt, though to your surprise, he grabs your hands, gently, he pins them down but not harshly, the tips of his fingers brushing against your palms and when he breaks the kiss, you look up in confusion, not understanding why he stopped you, why he slowed you down.

“What…?” You mumble.

Steve can’t help but smile at the cute frown on your face, your lips are puffy, your hair is a mess already.

He feels nervousness rushing through his body but more so, he feels anticipation.

“I want to try something new tonight,” he whispers before he presses another kiss to your lips, surprising you with the softness of it. “Is that okay?”

You nod and whisper a small ‘yes’ despite not knowing what he means by that.

“Do you trust me?” He asks as though he doesn’t hold your heart in the palm of his hand, as though you wouldn’t follow him blindly into anything.

You don’t know what this means, how far he will take things tonight, how rough he will get or what the new thing is that he seemingly feels desperate to try but you would say yes to anything when it comes to him.

“I do,” you say only above a whisper.

His lip twitches at that, his eyes lighten up and he wastes no time to connect his lips to yours again, closing his eyes and getting lost in it, in you.

He realizes just how intimate all of this is, this night, these touches, yours and his words, and it’s all he wished for, all that he ever wanted, all that he craved and longed for.

Before you, he saw a faceless woman by his side as he yearned for a deep connection, a kind of love he never experienced before, one that would not only bring him back to life but also consume him in every shape and form. He waited and waited, met new girls and took one after the other out, date after date and no future was still in sight until he had gotten so desperate that he had made peace with the fact that there was only one he had something real with – but even that was false, her love was never real, it was nothing but a delusion to him and he realized that his feelings weren’t real either, at least during his second try, they were only the result of desperation and loneliness.

And he knows, he knows that this might not be real either, that you might not feel the same, that you might never feel the same but he doesn’t really care, especially not in this moment, when your fingers dig into his hair again and your lips move with his so naturally, so softly, like it’s the only thing meant to be.

Your moans, your smell, your taste and your body beneath him makes him feel things he had never felt before. To feel you clinging to him and kissing him with so much passion makes his heart scream in joy, the heart that only beats for you now.

Your tongues meet as his fingers pull the straps of your dress down your arms, grazing your skin with his touch, pulling out whimpers from you that shoot straight through him, making everything feel so much hotter. His palm slips down your chest and your waist before it falls to your hip where your dress had already ridden up to, his hand disappears under it but instead of reaching for your panties to yank them down your legs the way he usually would do, he just lets it rest there for a moment, needing to feel your warm, bare skin underneath his hand.

Your chest rises up and down heavily, it’s pressed against his and he can feel how strongly your heart is beating, matching the pace of his own.

He feels how desperate you are getting as you grab at his hair harder than before, bucking your hips up to meet his and he grants you your wish, grinding his erection against your core, he makes you both moan in pleasure.

And when your lips break apart and you call out his name, Steve nearly crumbles.

He leans down to kiss your neck and you tilt your head to the side, almost immediately, welcoming him to mark your skin up with love bites, and he does, his lips meet your skin, over and over again, kissing softly and sucking gently, he then moves down to your collarbone, leaving no spot unkissed.

You pull your brows together so strongly, overwhelmed by his gentle touches and the feeling of his lips kissing you this way but you can only close your eyes and moan for him, savoring this very moment.

“Steve…” You whimper as you feel the hot sensation flushing through you and burning in your core.

He takes your dress off slowly, not quickly or desperately, he takes his time slipping it down your body. His large hand grabs at your hip, his fingers playing with the thin material of your panties as his lips are still latched onto your collarbone, that he pulls away from to take a look at you.

There you lie beneath him in nothing but your matching underwear, your eyes hooded and filled with emotions you usually hide, your puffy lips are parted, your cheeks are flushed, you furrow your brows in need as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

He sucks in a shaky breath as his heart skips several beats, your beauty, your soft skin, your smell, the look in your eyes all being too much for his poor heart.

He is so genuinely done for – there is nothing he wouldn’t do for you, all you have to do is look at him with these eyes and he’d do anything you’d ask him to.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, unable to hold himself back with words a friend shouldn’t say with such emotions.

He misses the way your eyes widen and fill with surprise as he pushes his hands under your back so he can unclasp your lilac colored bra, he throws the lace down on the floor where your dress is lying.

He kisses your chest and wraps his plush lips around your nipple, his hands slip down your stomach and he hooks his finger around your panties, removing them slowly.

You look down at him, your heart unable to find calmness as everything he does, drives you crazy tonight. A gasp tears from your parted lips when he slips his fingers through your wet folds, teasing your entrance before he brings his digits up to your clit.

“S-Steve,” you moan as you bring your hand down to his hair, digging your fingers through it and gripping it tightly.

He meets your eyes and you watch how he kisses down your body, softly, gently, slowly and not tearing his eyes away from your face, he keeps looking, staring at you as his lips trail kisses down your chest, your stomach, your hip bones.

Is that what friends do?

Steve spreads your thighs and he lies down before you, he moves his palm from your knee to your hip, throwing one leg over his shoulder before he leans in closer to kiss your inner thighs, truly leaving no spot unkissed.

You swallow harshly, unable to figure out what to do with yourself when he handles you so carefully, so… lovingly, almost as though he could feel something other than lust for you.

You blink and stare in anticipation, breathy whines keep falling from your lips, the fluttering in your stomach growing stronger and stronger.

You lean on your elbows, not wanting to look away from him just yet. His hair is messy from your tugging, his cheeks are pink, his eyes dark and filled with something you cannot read.

He looks so pretty between your thighs.

Steve leans into you, licking his lips before he presses the tip of his tongue to your entrance, slipping it through your folds and bringing it up to your clit where he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking teasingly.

Your breath hitches in your throat, your brows furrowing even more than before as you grip his hair tightly.

He gives no time to react before he holds on tighter and begins to eat you out, hungrily yet softly. His movements are slow and sensual, his moans vibrate against you.

His name falls from your lips over and over again as your head sinks deeper into his pillows, everything about this brings you a pleasure you haven’t felt before, it’s so much more intense than usual.

“You always taste so good, baby,” he murmurs against you, nudging his nose against your clit as he slips his tongue into you, catching you off guard with his words and the sudden action.

His free hand slipping back up to your chest, he pinches your nipple and rolls it with his thumb before he grabs your breast.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe as you throw your hand over his, feeling out of control with your emotions when you slip your fingers through his and keep his hand there – right over your beating heart.

Steve moans approvingly, squeezing your hand as he deepens all his movements, adding his fingers as he continues on pleasuring you with his mouth – a kind of pleasure you both get lost in. Moans and whimpers echo through the room, you pant and breathe heavily as waves crash over your body and you get closer and closer to the edge he never fails to bring you to.

Watery eyes meet his soft ones, your fingers now molding together, your hips rising up to grind against his face as he unravels you. You see the way he is moving, the way his own hips grind against the mattress to find some sort of relief, his moans are just as desperate as yours.

His chin glistens with your slickness and he keeps moaning as though you’re the sweetest thing he ever tasted – and you are, you are the sweetest thing he ever tasted on his tongue, touching and feeling you this way burns everything in him and he can’t help but want more of it.

“You’re so close, I can feel it,” he murmurs against you, pressing kisses to your sensitive nub as his fingers curl deeply inside of you, the tips grazing that very spot that makes you whine his name so cutely.

You dig your nails into his skin as you still hold onto his hand, your other is still lost in his hair, gripping and tugging at it as the fire burns in your core, everything flutters inside of you. You blink through your tears and keep your eyes on him, watching the way he licks and sucks on your clit, the way he looks so content doing this.

You try to speak though your words get lost when he speeds up his movements, making you shut your eyes in pleasure as your jaw falls slack.

His long fingers slamming in and out of you, joined by his tongue again, he shakes his head from side to side, his nose nudging against your clit over and over again.

“Open your eyes,” he murmurs against you, his voice adding vibrations, “look at me, I want to see your eyes.”

You oblige, despite the tears that pool in your eyes, you do your best to grant him his wish.

“Just like that, good girl,” he hums and hits that spot inside of you, causing your whole body to tense up and your cries to fill the room. He doesn’t stop there, not even when your body falls limp and your heavy breathing along with the sensitive whimpers sounds through the room now.

Steve licks you through your high, moaning in delight and kissing your clit just to tease you, making you jerk and whimper.

“Please,” you whisper, looking at him with your teary, pleading eyes.

He pulls away but only to take his clothes off, finally, you were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t even notice just how much clothing was still on his body.

He tears his tank top off and throws it down on the floor, unbuckling his belt next and practically tearing down his jeans and boxers, letting his aching dick slap against his stomach, his tip red and leaking, his length twitching as it did the whole time he was eating you out, he nearly busted before, the sensation of it all tonight, being too overwhelming and it’s hard to keep himself together when he looks down at your pretty face and your bare body, your pussy glistening and so ready for him.

He could stare at you for hours but he feels so desperate to feel you, to be inside of you, he presses his palms against your knees and spreads them further apart, he settles in between them and leans down before you, looking deeply into your eyes after pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He isn’t blind or unaware of the way your breathing stutters in your throat, the way you gulp and stare in confusion as you stare into his eyes.

And then, you raise yourself up a little, propping yourself up on your elbow as you slip your hand down his stomach, making him breathe in harshly as his heart skips a beat. In lust, he watches the way you slip your own fingers through your slick folds, gathering your wetness before you bring your hand up to his cock, wrapping your hand around it, you start stroking him slowly, making him whimper at the feeling. He grips the sheets beneath you and watches the way your much smaller hand moves around him, the way you tease his slit with your thumb, making him shudder over you.

“F-Fuck,” he whispers, trying not to close his eyes but this drives him crazy, the intimacy of it all making it all feel so much better, “just like that, baby.”

A tiny noise, something close to a whimper falls from your lips thanks to the nickname he started giving you on occasions.

“That feels so good,” he moans as he continues to watch, finding it hard to control himself, “are you ready for me?” He asks as his eyes move up your body before they meet yours again.

You nod quickly and buck your hips up, teasing both him and yourself when you slide the crown of his dick through your sensitive folds before you guide him into your entrance. He instantly reaches for your hip, digging his fingers into your skin as he feels your warmth sucking him in, your wet walls gripping at him despite not being fully inside yet. He watches your face, the way it scrunches up in pleasure, the way your jaw falls slack and your eyes stay glued on him as you watch the way his cock disappears inside of you. He listens to your moans and feels the way you hold onto his shoulders tightly the moment he takes control.

“Steve!”

His heart could beat through his bones and rip through his skin at this moment and he wouldn’t care.

He needs more, he needs you closer, he pushes in deeper and deeper, splitting you open and making you both whimper. He stills once he’s fully inside, letting out a shaky breath when he feels you pulsating around him.

You breathe heavily, he can feel it, your chest is flush against his, he’s got you close, just like he wanted you.

“S-Steve,” you repeat his name in a whisper, feeling overwhelmed by your emotions, by all those feelings, by this and yet you want more, you crave more, you crave him. You muster up all your strength and wrap your legs around his waist.

“I know, baby,” he whispers, surprising you for yet another time this night when he moves both his hands up your body, one slipping from your shoulder to your wrist and then to your hand, lying his palm flat against yours, he cups your cheek with his other hand, sliding it across your jawline as he tilts your head up so he can see your eyes, so he can gaze into them.

You feel as though your frown might stay permanent on your face after tonight, but everything he does confuses you, even more so when slips his fingers through the gaps in yours and intertwines them together, holding your hand tighter than ever before as he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath mingles with yours, his nose nudges against yours and your lips touch but he doesn’t kiss you yet, he squeezes your hand as he pulls out and pushes back in, stealing your breath away.

Everything about this feels so deep, so intimate, you feel vulnerable tonight with the way he handles you so differently.

Tears of pleasure and love prickle in your eyes and you suddenly find it hard to keep your emotions down, especially when he closes his eyes and he kisses you as though it’s the only thing he is meant to do. His palm rests against your jawline as his fingers get lost in your hair. Your moans match his own as he starts rolling his hips, slowly and deeply.

Your hands cling to each other, your chests are pressed together, he slides in and out of you, his tip hitting and rubbing against the spot that tears out sounds from you that you never made with anyone else before.

As deep and hungry as the kiss is, you want to feel him closer, so after swallowing down the confusion and leaving the questions for another time, you bring him closer by sliding your free hand down his back, stroking his skin and grazing it with your nails, you grab his ass and dig your fingers into his skin, causing him to moan even louder as he thrusts deeper.

You feel the shudders that grip at your body, the hot waves and the fire that burns within you, your heart that threatens to burst at the way it fills with even more love for the man panting above you, moaning just for you, because of you.

Even when he breaks the kiss, he doesn’t move away from your lips, keeping his against yours as he opens his eyes again to look at you while his hips move faster and he fucks into you deeper.

Steve strokes the top of your hand with his thumb, his other hand still resting on your jaw, his dark eyes gazing into your own, he looks at you so differently and it makes you want to cry, you are too overwhelmed, too sensitive, too vulnerable to feel such hopeful feelings when you know damn well that you could lose this and him any moment but how can you not hope when he looks at you as though you’re something worth loving, when he whispers your name as though it comes from his heart, when he pecks your lips and nuzzles his nose to yours.

No words are spoken, your touches and the eye contact are enough tonight, everything he could speak with his words are written in his eyes.

But everything that lies on the tip of your tongue, threatens to spill the closer you get and the longer he looks at you this way.

I love you. I love you. I love you, you scream in your mind, not knowing that these words match the ones in his mind.

Tears slip down your cheeks, tears that Steve kisses away with his lips as he holds you tighter and pulls you closer as his hips meet yours and he thrusts in deeper, his hand only letting go of your jaw so he can slip it down your stomach and touch you between your thighs, he catches your moan in a feverish kiss as his fingers rub at your sensitive nub.

Your tongues clash together and your lips move sensually and roughly as he moves faster, making himself whimper in need.

This isn’t the first time that Steve discovers something with you, but this makes him live through something entirely new, he had never felt anything like this before, he had never felt his heart race so fastly in his chest, he had never felt this kind of heat, this kind of fire burning in his whole body, nearly overwhelming him and making him cry too.

His newfound feelings make this experience even more pleasurable, to hear your moans and to feel you clinging to his shaking body, to know that he is the one who is getting to touch you and feel you like this makes him feel… special.

He wants you, he wants you in every way possible.

He can feel his heart yearning for you, yearning for more with you, he can hear it screaming your name.

Steve loves you, god, he loves you so much that his feelings nearly crush him.

He wants you to know, he needs you to know but his fears hold him back and he swallows them down, begrudgingly so.

If only he knew that you would cry tears of joy if he told you those three little words.

If only you knew that this isn’t just sex, that this is something else, that he is making love to you.

When you both reach your peak and you come undone, gasping and crying out in pleasure, you keep kissing, you don’t stop, despite the lack of air in your lungs, you keep kissing, you keep moving, you want more and more, you don’t want this moment to end.

You can feel the shift of emotions, his touches feel so different than they did before, his hands and lips linger a little longer, his eyes look at you in a way that has your own skipping and fluttering.

He keeps his fingers entwined with yours, even when he is no longer inside of you and chasing after his high, even when the moment is long over, he keeps holding your hand, he pulls you on top of him now, covering your lower half with the thin covers.

And now it’s you who cups his cheek to kiss him, sliding your fingers down his jawline and moving your lips against his, nuzzling your nose against his just the way he did before.

Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, playing with your hair and stroking your soft skin, smiling into the kiss as he gets lost in the feeling of love, a kind of love he never felt before.

Sweat shines on Steve’s forehead, his hair clinging to his skin, his cheeks more flushed than before, he is humming into the kiss, feeling every happy emotion flushing through him as you make noises that leave his stomach with butterflies.

You break the kiss with a soft giggle as you watch him chasing after your lips.

He puckers his lips, begging for another kiss and how could you say no to him?

You lean in again, not bothering to tuck your hair away when it falls in front of your face. You kiss his lips, only shortly, but enough to satisfy him.

“Hmm, I might have to do this more often,” he murmurs and cups the back of your head when you lay your head on his chest.

“Do what?” You ask as you loosen your grip on his hand and lay your palm flat against his, taking in the sight of how much larger his is.

“Cook for you, you got all soft on me, Blondie,” he whispers and plays with your fingers, lacing them together with yours, making your heart flutter yet again.

Your lips part and you raise your brows as you look at him, “oh, I got soft on you?”

He is teasing you, you can see it, the way his lips tug into a smirk and his eyes flash with amusement.

“Mhmm,” he nods, “got all sweet and adorable on me tonight, I can’t even remember what it’s like to deal with your mean side – not that I don’t like your mean side, I clearly do, turns me on, if I’m being honest.”

A surprised giggle falls from your lips.

It makes his heart flutter now, his eyes crinkle as a bigger smile appears on his face.

“You’re kind of a dork, you know?” You whisper and rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him, starry eyed. “I almost don’t remember your sassy side.”

“Sassy?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Mhmm, you’re sassy, Lego head.”

He chuckles softly, “Lego head, you haven’t used that in a while.”

You giggle again and reach your left hand up to touch his hair, brushing away the curls that are stuck to his forehead.

“I bet you miss the nickname.”

You don’t see the way he looks at you, you never really do but the awestruck look in his eyes is so hard to miss.

“No, I kinda came to enjoy you calling me Stevie.”

You tilt your head to the side, looking back into his loving eyes, “oh?”

“Hmm,” you hum, smiling as you move closer to him, “Stevie… cute.”

You look at each other with smiles on your lips.

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers as he rests his palm along your jaw, tucking your hair behind your ear as his hazel eyes trace your features.

“Of course,” you whisper back.

He blinks, taking a moment to speak up again, his cheeks still glowing pink underneath the golden light from the small lamp on his desk.

“What’d you think of me when we first met?” He murmurs, blushing. “When we were teens… I mean…”

His thumb grazes your bottom lip, he touches you so softly, so gently as he looks at you with patience.

Your heart jumps in your chest, panic spreading around it as you repeat the question in your mind.

Oh Steve, if only you knew, you think to yourself as you stare at him, taking him in and how he looks at you.

No one’s ever looked at you this way.

No one’s ever touched you this way.

No one’s ever made you feel emotions that probably kept you alive during your darkest days.

He deserves honesty, doesn’t he?

But he is scared of it, you can see it in his eyes, you know how ashamed he is of how he acted as a teenager, and you know how bad he feels when others remind him of his past, teasing and laughing in his face about King Steve.

If only he knew how much you have worshiped the ground he walked on from the moment you laid your eyes on him, how you never once thought badly of him, not even when he hurt you with cruel words.

‘I have loved you from the moment your hand touched mine when you brushed past me in the hallway for the very first time.’ Is what you should say but you can’t, despite the aching feeling in your chest, you cannot utter these words, no matter the shift between you both tonight and the hope he filled you with.

But he waits, he waits for you to answer his question and who are you to leave him waiting?

“Insufferable. And a douche.” At those words, Steve’s eyebrows fall in sadness, prompting you to smile sweetly at him. “But I knew you never meant it. I knew it wasn’t truly you…”

“Oh? And how would you know that?” He asks, his thumb going in circles in the small of your back as your eyes twinkle with love, with admiration, with devotion.

“Because I saw you.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

462 notes · View notes

hxnbi · 3 days

Text

⸻ ɞ "for you and only you"

them buying gifts for you ﹒﹒wind breaker boys ♡

꒷꒦ pairings: hajime umemiya, jo togame, ren kaji, akihiko nirei, hayato suo, haruka sakura, toma hiragi, kyotaro sugishita x gn. reader (separate)

HAJIME UMEMIYA | 梅宮一 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

A man who goes all out for occasions such as this, but not with the typical pricey gifts and extravagant items many might initially suggest. Instead, UMEMIYA chooses something somewhat whimsical, to the surprise of everyone and, at the same time, no one.

He dives headfirst into his garden, tending to plants with the same care and attention most people reserve for rare jewels. Why? Because in his eyes, nothing says "I love you" quite like a potted fern or a blooming orchid that he’s nurtured from a seedling and shoved into your arms. On various occasions when you would visit Furin, you would, to your surprise, unexpectedly catch your boyfriend with dirt under his nails and a triumphant grin on his face, presenting you with a beautifully grown plant.

"I grew this just for you!" he declares, utterly beaming with pride and happiness. "Don't you like it?!"

You laughed. Of course you did. It's why you fell in love with him, after all. It was like having a child in a teenage guy’s body. Of course, Umemiya loves to spoil you in other ways, too. If you were to ask him for anything, you would get it within a day. You ask, and you shall receive. He's all about giving you little thoughtful gifts on the daily and showering you with attention—his clinginess almost feels like a gift in itself, if you could call that so.

Still, he understands that material items and grand gestures only go so far. A cliche, yes, but regardless, Umemiya's gifts are not just plants—it's the love he pours into every small, thoughtful act. When he hands you a plant, it's not just a simple gift. It's a piece of his heart, cultivated and grown with you in mind. Some might say he’s overdoing it when he shows up with yet another rare flower or exotic herb, all the while practically suffocating you physically with all his affection as the others, like Hiragi, watch with either deadpan faces or in true horror like Nirei, the poor guy can never catch a break. Perhaps he is, but in Umemiya's eyes, showing his true love is never overdoing it. Never to you.

JO TOGAME | 十亀条 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Get yourself someone like TOGAME who pays attention to the little things. Not to say that the others don’t, but there’s just something about Togame that makes you feel truly seen at all times, even if he does initially seem like his mind is off in another dimension. At first glance, Togame might initally appear aloof, his eyes blank and glazed over as if he's contemplating the philosophy of life or trying to recall if he left the stove on when he left home that day.

He’s got that spaced-out look, constantly unfocused and seemingly lost in his own world. But don’t let that fool you—despite that continually distracted look of his, lies a man who notices and knows everything about you. Never in a creepy way, of course. Because beneath that absent-minded exterior is a man who catches all the little details. Togame remembers your offhand comments, the fleeting glances you cast at little things that catch your eye, and even the snacks you like to munch on during your and his late-night at-home dates together. It’s almost comedic how he can be so scatterbrained one moment and then present you with a gift that’s so spot-on it feels like he read your mind.

It’s impressive and a little baffling to see just how attentive he is. He’ll hand you a beautifully wrapped present and, with a nonchalant shrug, say, “I noticed you were eyeing this the other day.” Meanwhile, you’re left wondering when he even managed to notice, considering he now seemed wholly engrossed in staring at a cloud—but in reality, all he looks at is you and only you.

REN KAJI | 梶蓮 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

At first, KAJI may appear to know what he's doing, giving off an air of confidence and exuding an aura so convincing that even his own friends believe he's got everything under control and that Kaji had the perfect gift planned out for you. But, oh, if only they knew. Because internally, it is anything but controlled. Kaji is a frantic mess from head to toe and is just barely holding it together. For Christ's sake, Nirei one time even found the second year furiously muttering and cursing out a cluster of innocent plants on the school field, seemingly at being useless sacks of leaves.

Nirei would never understand quite why that happened, nor did he bother to ask, in fear of his potential demise by doing so...

Regardless, Kaji meticulously plans, second-guesses himself, and agonizes over every decision, to the point where multiple times, he would take off his headphones in the hopes of finding total concentration and that maybe, just maybe, an idea would hit him. Spoiler, it doesn't. It was a strategy that only ended in disaster. The sight is almost comical—Kaji, usually so composed, reduced to a bundle of nerves as he tries to decide if you’d prefer a handmade card or a store-bought one. Eventually, he abandons both the plants and his failed attempts at making a DIY gift of his own, pivoting to something that’s more “him.”

After all his frantic efforts and internal chaos, he sheepishly presents you with a handmade mixtape, carefully curated with songs that remind him of you and your time together. Each track is selected with care, and when he finally presents it, his nerves are palpable. Any kind of reaction that wasn't disgust, he would be happy with. Unbeknownst to even himself. However, your first reaction to receiving it was to immediately embrace him. It's a gift that speaks volumes, even if he struggles to express it in words. A blend of his love for music and his love for you. Because beneath his aloof exterior, and despite the chaos behind the scenes, lies a heart that beats just for you and you alone.

AKIHIKO NIREI | 楡井秋彦 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Enter NIREI, the human encyclopedia of your life, with a notebook thicker than a brick and more detailed than your school textbooks. Nirei probably has anything and everything you've ever said written down in his notebook. His meticulous, borderline frantic nature means he doesn't miss a single detail, capturing every word you utter with precision, whether you genuinely meant it or not. Seriously, the guy probably has a section dedicated to your favourite foods alone.

He’s constantly with a notebook in hand, furiously scribbling down every passing comment, no matter how trivial. To him, it's better to be safe than sorry—after all, he can’t afford to disappoint you, not when he's committed to being your personal mind reader, one way or another. In fact, it would come to the surprise of no one if Nirei had an entire 500-page notebook dedicated solely to you, complete with tabs, colour-coded highlights, and footnotes.

And those who do find out about this "notebook" and read through even just the first page are utterly deadpan at just how smitten Nirei was for you. The hearts in his eyes practically say it all. His dedication to cataloguing your every whim and fancy might seem a tad extreme to the common folk, but to Nirei, it's all in the name of ensuring your happiness. And when he does present you with a gift, it feels almost magical, as if he's read your mind. Sure, it’s a bit unnerving to know that he probably knows your cafe order better than you do, but hey, at least you’ll never have to worry about forgetting your preferences. It's more than just a gesture, his careful attention to detail makes every gift a meaningful token of his affection. With Nirei by your side, it's like having your very own walking, talking wishlist. Even if Nirei isn't strong physically—he can't fight like everybody else in Furin—his meticulous planning and thoughtfulness show just how far he's willing to go in order to make you happy.

HAYATO SUO | 蘇枋隼飛 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Now, let’s talk about SUO, Furin's resident memory master. Unlike Nirei, who hoards notebooks like a squirrel hoards acorns, Suo relies solely on the immense storage capacity of his brain to keep track of every single detail about you, retaining it all in his memory alone.

His mind is like a steel trap, capturing every little detail about you, his significant other. He can effortlessly recall every conversation, shared moment, and quirky little habit you have and stores it in his memory, all the while keeping it secret behind that enigmatic smile of his. He's a mysterious man, even to you, but you can always tell his intentions are pure, no matter how initially suspicious he may be.

Some might call it borderline telepathic, but to Suo, it’s all just part of being deeply devoted to you in his own way. When he comes to you with a perfectly timed gift, it’s not because he’s some kind of mind reader (although it sometimes does feel that way). It’s simply because you’re the most important thing in his world, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, even if it means sacrificing a little extra brain space for the cause—as if that’s even troubling to him. Gifts from Suo are always a surprise, even to you. He hides things incredibly well without you knowing a thing. But it's not without a touch of mischief, considering all the pranks and teases he often likes to pull. You frequently find yourself asking him, "How did you even know I wanted this?" only for him to aloofly reply with a cryptic smile or an offhanded comment.

"Oh wow, Hayato, how did you know I wanted this?!"

"Oh, I just happened to notice when I saw how your face lit up at the sight of it the other day."

"I- wha- …you got it from just noticing my reactions?"

"Of course! Who would I be if I didn't notice such a thing from my significant other?"

"A stalker..."

"Now now, don't be like that!"

HARUKA SAKURA | 桜遥 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Anyone and everyone with ears that day who are unlucky enough to cross paths with SAKURA that day would no longer be the same after getting a panicked earful from his guy. Just imagine him, frantically running around like a chicken with its head cut off, who turns gift-giving into a mission worthy of a military operation, and that is Sakura Haruka.

He’s the guy who interrogates his friends about what to get you, practically hosting a roundtable discussion as he frantically brainstorms the perfect gift. Picture him pacing back and forth, sweating bullets, and badgering everyone in sight for advice. He consults everyone he knows, hoping to find some idea of the ideal present that will light up the smile on your face—one that he has grown to love and cherish. Sakura's desperation knows no bounds; he's calling up acquaintances he hasn’t even bothered to speak to until now, just to get their input on this seemingly not-important dilemma. But once the dusk settles and he's had a moment to gather his thoughts, Sakura is the one to make the final call.

And in the end, he gets you a gift that is perfect and oh-so-thoughtful. The effort he puts into his choice shows just how much he cherishes you in his life and will continue to do so. It's not just a gift; it's a heartfelt expression of his love, chosen all with the intention of making you smile. Though he will never admit to you how long it actually took for him to get that singular gift for you. Not even on his grave.

TOMA HIRAGI | 柊登馬 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Poor HIRAGI, who, at first, dives headfirst into the idea of gift-giving with all the enthusiasm in the world. He's got that determined look in his eyes—a look enough to scare off any middle-schooler within a mile—ready to craft the perfect present for you. Fast forward a few hours, and he’s surrounded by a chaotic mess of craft supplies, looking at his creation with dawning horror. Realization hits him like a pound of bricks. The gift is utter garbage, something you’d never like... Hiragi first tries to salvage it, maybe gluing on a few more sparkles or attaching a heartfelt note, but deep down, he knows it’s a lost cause.

His mind goes into overdrive, perhaps popping more than a few nerve pills into his mouth as he hurriedly rethinks his plan, determined to make things right. In a moment of panic, Hiragi scrambles to come up with something better. His mind races, and he quickly pivots to Plan B. He ditches the failed craft project and decides to give you something far more meaningful—a date, an entire day planned around your favourite activities.

From a breakfast at your favourite cafe to a scenic walk in the park with an amazing view of the sunset, followed by a movie marathon of your beloved films, this time, he is confident. Hiragi pours his heart into creating an experience rather than a physical gift. It's a corny move, sure, but his dedication to making you happy shines through. Your happiness is the true present Hiragi strives to provide and cherish with all his heart. Ultimately, it's not the material items that matter but the love and effort he puts into spending time with you. His actions speak louder than any physical gift ever could.

KYOTARO SUGISHITA | 杉下京太郎 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

To him, this was something not to be taken lightly. Thus, his plan was put into motion. SUGISHITA's quest to ensure perfection involves quiet observation that borders on creepy, with intense staring sessions that would make even the most seasoned blush just to get the perfect gift for you. You can practically feel his eyes boring into you as he notes your likes and dislikes, all while maintaining an innocent facade—at least, in his eyes. From your perspective, you beg to differ, but you let him have his moment. Through this, Sugishita tries to gather intel on your favourite foods, movies, and even the type of socks you prefer. His dedication to the art of gift-giving is both impressive and slightly unnerving, but hey, it’s all in the name of love, right?

And when he finally presents you with a gift, it's like he's unveiling some kind of masterpiece he's been working on for months. And in a way, he has been. Even when you know what he has been doing all this time, your heart still melts. Tears fall, and all Sugishita does is frantically comfort you in the best way he knows how—which isn’t saying much, but hey, he's trying his best. He may not wear his heart on his sleeve, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. His methods might be a tad unconventional, but there's no denying the thought and effort he puts into making you happy. After all, who needs words when you have Sugishita's silent but effective gestures of love? His silence all but screams his genuine heart for you. Because each time he's with you, he feels comfortable in your presence, no matter what, without ever needing to say a word.

EXTRAS

CHOJI TOMIYAMA | 兎耳山丁子 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Hmmm, his gift for you?

It's him, of course!

…Don’t give him that look.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

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imaluckygirl · 2 days

Text

⭑ tastes better because of you

( enhypen reaction )

synopsis: why does his orders always tastes better? — where you ask or get them to switch drinks/food after tasting his ; because his orders are always better.

( 엔하이픈 ) - hyungline!fem.reader ( maknae ver. ) ; fluff & some domestic content

୨ৎ back to the bookshelf . . .

note: hi . . . me after disappearing and appearing all of a sudden hehe ,, didn’t really checked this one ( just took a quick look as i was adding some stuff ) so it might have some grammar errors ; forgive me ><

warnings : mentions of food.

i can picture heeseung's brows going up, because he couldn't understand what you just said. however, the first time it happened he acted like it was completely normal.

when heeseung and you started dating for a month, he decided to celebrate his free time with you, asking you to go out with him to a cafeteria, get a coffee, kiss, hug, hold hands and take pictures. that was the plan. heeseung was a frequent costumer at that cafeteria, so when he walked in with you, he already knew what he wanted to order — even receiving greetings from the workers ( and not gonna lie, you got a little bit jealous back then ). “yeah, and for her is... what do you want to order baby?” your boyfriend whispered at you while he gazed at you looking at the coffee options. pouting at some options, you finally decided what you wanted to order. he then proceeded to finish the order and respectfully thanked the cashier, holding your hands once again after you thanked the cashier as after him.

waiting for his order, heeseung spent this minutes talking with you. since it has been just one month you two began to date, he was still a bit shy and hesitant, afraid that he might make you uncomfortable. when the barista called that familiar name, heeseung — still holding your hands — walked to the counter, handed the man the receipt and handed you your drink; taking a sip of his after thanking the barista with a smile.

walking out of the cafeteria, you took a sip of your drink and it was good. “what do you think?” he asked you. “it's good.” you shrugged with a smile, shyly nodding. “do you wanna to try mine?” oh, our naive boy... you remembered hearing his drink of choice and you kinda scrunched your nose, not really impressed or interested. however, when he insisted for you to try it — yelling in the middle of the street “just try it babe!” — and you took a hesitant sip, your mind was blown. “it’s so good.” your eyes were widen and your brows went up in surprise. your boyfriend chuckled, asking: “did you?” smiling widely. and then you nodded and he asked the fatidic question: “wanna switch?” “no, i’m okay...” you shyly answered, feeling your cheeks burning because of your exaggerated reaction over a drink; embarrassing yourself in front of your one month love while you enjoyed your blend boring drink.

nowadays things are completely different. a new kind of intimacy had bloomed, steps forward from puppy love to a more mature one. with that, the level of shyness was close to zero and you felt more free to talk to heeseung without blushing every single time, or feeling like you were being inconvenient. so, whenever you go out with your boyfriend and he orders something, you ask him for a bite or a sip — saying that you were saving him time. “is it good?” you asked heeseung, your mouth slight watering at the sight of his ice cream. before he could answer, you said: “can i have some?” you blinked your eyes at him, sending your puppy eyes directly to his heart. he just handed you his spoon and moved his arm closer to your hand; so you could scoop some of his ice cream, and obviously his ice cream tasted so much better. but oh well, i think he would rather sharing both ice creams than actually switching with you, still, every time you order something you don't like, heeseung is there to save you.

let's talk about jongseong now. we know that he's very caring and loves to pamper you, so you expected he would just say “sure.” and give you some of his coffee. however, when you asked your boyfriend if you could try his drink, probably he would chuckle a little, exposing his beautiful smile and playfully take a sip of his drink. “i thought you said you don't like coffee?” he cocked a brow, teasing you. “yeah, but i want to try it now.” you pouted. “you can try some of mine if you wan-” “here, try it.” he handed you the drink with a soft grin, like jongseong was mesmerised by your cuteness. — how did he get so lucky to have you for himself?

okay, let's say you didn't like the drink, what would he say? “i told you so.” or something, laughing at your scrunched nose and squinted eyes, all of that because of the strong coffee flavour; you thought you would get familiar with — at least you hoped so. but, in the other hand, if you actually liked his drink he would simply say: “let’s switch them then.” and just shrug. and, don't you dare saying no to him. if he baby likes it, his baby gets it. — couple goals...

another situation that this can happen is when he’s off work and goes get you take-out like you were craving the whole week. i mean, he cooks for you, but sometimes you just want a greasy industrial food; and not a homemade soup or something. and honestly, if you are feeling guilty about it, brush this feeling away, jongseong is just like you: he has these times where he just don’t want to cook, but he DENIES to see you in the kitchen. you still don’t know if this was an excuse to make him feel better for not feeding you 'real' food or if he was honestly scared to see you making a mess at the kitchen and accidently blowing up the house...

alright, let me get straight to the point! he text you saying that he was going home. once he walked in the living room, he was met with the cutest scene — you wearing your cozy pyjamas with your fringe slipped back by the pink headband you bought last time he went at daiso with you. “you look so cute.” and when you saw him your body jumped, surprised by him and embarrassed. “h-hi...”

“did you like it?” your boyfriend asked if you liked the burger you ordered. “yeah...” feeling your unsure and disappointed tone he smirked. “want to try mine?” and when you slowly nodded and pursed your lips, getting closer to him across the table and hesitantly taking a bite of his burger, jongseong could tell your eyes shined. “good?” he asked while you sat back on your chair, enjoying the savory burger. this time you instantly nodded, making your boyfriend smile. “here.” and surprisingly he had ordered another one, just for you because he knows you so well. although he bought you a brand new one, you insisted that you preferred the one he was eating because it tasted somehow kinda different — even though it was the same burger, it wasn’t the same flavour.

i can imagine how long it would take for jaeyun get your hints that you didn’t like your drink/food that much and wanted to try his. you remember the scene of both of you just sitting on a park bench, and keep in mind that this encounter was in the very beginning of his relationship with you. i mean, jaeyun is not dumb because let’s be real, back then his favorite subject was physics and math; numbers, letters and all of that math things we’ll never use in our daily life. anyway, you got my point. however, even though you knew jaeyun since middle school, when you started dating him you really thought he was kinda dumb, when he actually was just too focused on you. for an example, one day you were holding hands with him and when you were about to cross the street, jaeyun almost got ran over by a car. don’t even ask me how this happened, it just happened.

okay, let’s continue: as you sat on the bench by your boyfriend’s side, and you were clearly NOT enjoying your drink and trying to give him hints by making a disgusted face after taking a sip of your drink while replying to one of his random questions. you couldn’t tell if he was ignoring your hints or actually not realising. you preferred to believe he wasn’t getting them. nowadays you would probably distinguish in a second and tell him what you want right away; and jaeyun is less stupid because he matured and became an adult. “baby,” he called you with a frow, and your eyes shined, thinking he finally realised. “what if we moved together in the future and get a dog?” you sigh, but still replied him calmly.

after a few minutes taking small sips of your drink, you got the courage to ask your boyfriend if you could have some of his drink. “of course baby!” he would flash his head at you the second you call him, moving his focus from the little boy petting his dog’s head and handing you the drink with a sweet smile. you smiled back, taking a sip of his drink and damn he’s drink of choice was MUCH better. actually, you found out later that it was the same coffee but he added something different ( like an extra ) and that little something changed the entire drink’s flavour. of course he knew what was better, you remember how much you’ve seen that coffee’s shop logo back in high school.

“did you like your drink?” he would ask you after you took a long sip from his drink. “yeah, it’s okay...” when he saw how your lips pouted and you shrugged; speaking in a low tone voice, he asked you softly: “did you like mine better?” and when you nodded he smiled. “okay, give me yours and you can have mine.” you definitely wasn’t expecting your boyfriend to kiss your cheeks and lips after taking your ordered drink out of your hands. he was trying to hide a smile and hold in a giggle, ending up in some weird mouth/guttural sounds?

nowadays, as i previously mentioned, jaeyun got more mature as expected and got to know you better for a long period of time. even though you were his best friend a long time before both of you confessed to have feelings for each other in your late days of high school — close to the graduation day where he asked you. your boyfriend kept being kinda silly around you but he’s more observant. not completely because he still has that unique and authentic puppy personality you always cherished, and sometimes you can tell when he’s pretending to not get your hints just to see your cute frustrated frown and kiss that pout out of your lips, saying that he understood that you didn’t like your drink/food that much.

sunghoon would be completely silent. like, he would immediately realise you didn’t like your drink because he is more of an observant than an speaker. it’s funny how jaeyun and sunghoon contrast with each other.

usually he goes out with you, and one day he decided he wanted to book a fly to japan with you, to spend a whole month exploring tokyo, osaka, and spend time with you at the best restaurants and cute coffee shops he could find in the internet. even though, as i always say, sunghoon doesn’t show or look like an affectionate person, he is, but he loves in silence, and waits for the right time to let it show. he feels safe with this type of love/relationship, and you never showed signs of being uncomfortable with how he deals with his feelings. i think it was always a lot for him to process, but we’ll talk about those feelings in another opportunity.

in japan your boyfriend told you he knew a cute coffee shop in tokyo, and he was definitely not admitting too soon he was following a account named: ‘best of japan restaurants’ ( with an underscore between japan and restaurants ) — he also followed some of riki’s advice.

arriving at the cute coffee shop — that looked more like a chic boutique if someone passes by the place in a rush —, sunghoon had already planned everything, so there was an booked table just for both of you. right after he walked in — with your with your hand attached to his and warmed up in his coat’s pocket — hearing the sound of a bell ringing and an feminine voice exclaiming ‘WELCOME!’ in japanese; and watching an young lady approaching. — “こんにちはようこそ！テーブルは予約しましたか、それともテーブルを選びたいですか?” “sunghoon, call riki to help us…”

okay, this is a funny story so i’ll probably tell you later, but after spending a good minutes trying to explain the attendant that he had an table booked under his name, she finally gave both of you a green light. as the menu got placed onto the table by the japanese lady, you began to look for something and your boyfriend seemed to do the same as you, but asking: “what did you liked in the menu pretty?” and you would blush. when you told him what you wanted and he struggled once again to order in japanese, a few minutes later your drinks and pastries arrived. “looks good.” sunghoon hummed and took a sip of his drink, waiting for you reaction after trying yours. and when you smacked your lips twice he knew you didn’t liked it.

with that information, he looked at you and sighed, switching the drinks and proceeding to take a sip of your order. “it’s good, keep this one,” he pointed to his order. “i like this one better.” and you pout, but still tries really hard to hold in a big smile — even though he can still see your cheeks getting red.

and he did this every time since then, already being able to tell if you liked something or did not. — and that counts at social events too.

extra note: maybe i should post an sunghoon headcanon about this trip to japan + a ot7 enhypen scenario/thoughts — what do you guys think?

taglist: @jakesangel . . . ( wanna join? send me an ask ! )

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winterarmyy · 1 day

Text

He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection.

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm.

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that?

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow.

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll"

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her.

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.."

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words.

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend?

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike."

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it. Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes.

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—"

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed.

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky. "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky #bucky angst #bucky fluff

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dandylovesturtles · 1 day

Text

alright, here it is: part 3 of the still untitled Room Fic! and boy is it long... this might be as long as parts 1 and 2 put together.

Content warnings for this part: vomit, serious discussion of food issues, internalized ableism, everyone being a little bit dumb

I am not a doctor and my meal plan for Leo is extremely lightly researched (mainly because it's hard to find information that would be helpful in Leo's situation but that isn't highly technical). in the end I went with what I like from a narrative standpoint. if someone starves as long as Leo did please get them to an actual doctor lol.

also I got tired and didn't proofread the last few sections.

just a warning that I'm going on vacation next week and will be out of the country for awhile so don't expect any more for this for quite some time. in the meantime, hope you enjoy this!

and if you're confused, start here!

-----

Leo wakes up.

The room is moving. His head is cradled in someone's lap. There's a furry hand stroking his arm, and a voice hums the notes of a lullaby he hasn't heard since he was a child.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's lying somewhere soft and blessedly warm. There's a weight across his chest. Someone is chattering in his ear, happy and upbeat, saying something to him about Jupiter Jim on the desert planet Delta-5.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's still somewhere soft but now it's too hot. He whines and pushes at the things on his chest. Near his ear someone tuts, and then a hand lands on his, giving it a squeeze.

"Nardo, you need to warm up. Don't-"

-----

Leo wakes up, and his eyes open.

"Leo?" comes Raph's voice. Leo blinks to clear his vision, then lets his eyes trail up, to find his big brother bending over him. "You awake for real this time?"

He isn't sure. Raph being here sure feels like a dream.

He lowers his eyes and looks around. He's not home. He doesn't recognize this place at all, actually. But the walls are beige (still unstimulating, but at least not white), the furniture is dark brown, the bed (not a cot) has a blue bedspread, the empty takeout containers on the table have a splash of red. It's not home, but it's not the room, either.

If he were going to dream, surely he'd just picture himself back home.

He blinks back up at Raph, and smiles.

"Wide awake," he says, echoing Raph from before.

Raph bursts into tears, immediately leaning down and wrapping Leo up in one of his signature hugs. For the first time in so many days (longer, longer, Leo can't remember the last time he got a Raph hug like this), Leo feels completely secure, fully enveloped in love and affection, held safe by his big brother where no one can hurt him.

The difference between this moment and the last week and a half is so stark it leaves Leo feeling dizzy. Like he hadn't even realized how scared and lonely and helpless he truly felt until all that pain was taken away. He's safe now. He's okay now. Raph is hugging him.

Leo hates crying in front of people, but even he can't be stoic for this.

"Oh Leo," says Raph softly once he realizes. "It's okay. We got'cha."

Leo sniffs, burying his face in Raph's plastron. He wishes he could hug back, but his limbs feel so heavy, like Donnie swapped them out for metal versions when he wasn't looking. So he can't hug back, but he leans in close and hopes that's enough.

They get about a minute to hug before Mikey is worming his way in between them, wriggling to push his arms past Raph's and around Leo for himself. "No fair, you got to hold him earlier!" Mikey declares, his voice thick with tears.

"You got to hug him earlier," Raph argues.

"He was asleep, it doesn't count!" Mikey hits back, and Leo laughs and shifts so Mikey can better get in the middle. Raph sighs exaggeratedly, but he gives Leo a pat and leans back to let Mikey in.

Mikey hugs even tighter than Raph, nuzzling in against Leo's shoulder. "I missed you," he says, then gives a choked sob he tries to bury.

"Missed you too," Leo promises, craning his neck so he can land a big smooch on Mikey's head. That replaces the sobs with relieved giggles that leave Leo feeling so much lighter.

After another minute, Mikey moves back and looks over at Donnie, who's been standing at the side of the bed wringing his hands. "Your turn, Donald."

Donnie makes a grumpy noise at having been perceived, but when Leo gets a look at his face he sees Donnie has tears shimmering in his eyes, too. They break free once Donnie's arms are around him, trickling onto the skin of Leo's shoulder.

"Crying over me, Don-ton?" he teases, even as his own voice is thick with emotion.

"Shut up, Nardo," Donnie snaps back, but his voice cracks at the end and he holds on even tighter.

"Alright, my turn," says April once Donnie starts to loosen his grip, and Donnie obligingly crawls off the bed, swiping at his eyes. Like he's looking for something to busy himself with, he starts throwing away the takeout containers on the table. They must be empty.

Leo tears his eyes away just as April swoops in to wrap him up in his fourth hug of the hour, giving him a kiss on his forehead as she does. "Hey, Leo. How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," he says again, and she squeezes him tighter. "Kinda hot."

"That's the hypothermia talking," says Donnie. April shushes him.

"Hypothermia?" Leo asks. April pulls back so she can see his face.

"It wasn't that bad," she says quickly. "You'd started brumating, we think... Tromping around in the snow didn't help, though."

"Not to mention you used up the last of your energy portaling us out of there," Mikey chimes in. "It was really cool though!"

Leo laughs. "Thanks, little brother." Even with the containers thrown away, the smell of the takeout is thick in the room. Leo guesses they had Japanese. It can't have been that long ago. "Where are we?"

"Motel room about two hours down the road." April slides to sit next to him, keeping one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Her body heat is warm in a more pleasant way than the blankets, and he leans into it. "We wanted to go further, but we needed to get you warmed up."

"A motel...? Huh." Leo looks around again. This is his first time being in a hotel that isn't owned by Big Mama. He wonders how far it is from the Japanese place. Just, like, average delivery time. "What happened? It's... kind of a blur for me." He laughs.

They launch into the story without any more prompting. It all sounds like what Leo expected. Raph led the team. Donnie did science stuff. Mikey razzed his tazz. April used her investigative skills.

They tracked him all the way down to Colorado (that explains the snow) and broke him out. They floored it away from the EPF, got far enough they felt safe, then booked into a motel under April's name. That's where they've been since. Splinter and Draxum are out now, patrolling to make sure they weren't followed or discovered.

It's quite the story. And Leo knows he should be paying more attention than he is.

It's just, the takeout boxes. The smell coming from them is so strong, or maybe Leo is just abnormally sensitive to it. He thinks someone had steak, and someone else had fish. The fried rice had egg in it. His mouth is watering so badly he has to swallow every few seconds.

"Leo?" calls Mikey, and Leo startles, ripping his eyes from the trash can to look at Mikey's face. He's gripping the bedspread so hard his knuckles are cramping. He realizes this is not the first time Mikey said his name. Great, now they know he wasn't paying attention.

"Ah, sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to zone out." He flashes them all the biggest smile he can, so they don't worry. "I was just, uh..."

He trails off, not sure of a way to say that he was completely distracted by the smell of their already eaten Japanese food without making it awkward.

"Sorry, Leo, we know you're tired," says Raph, reaching over and rubbing his head. "You can go back to sleep. We're not leaving for awhile."

Go back to sleep? Leo doubts he can, what with the hunger an empty yawning hole inside him. It had been muted while the cold and the exhaustion took over, but now that he's warmer and more rested his body is very painfully reminding him he still has another problem.

He's trying to come up with a casual way to approach the subject when his stomach does it for him, gurgling and growling loud enough that everyone hears it. Leo is very glad his blushes don't show up as easily as humans' do.

"Uh... heh heh." He scratches at his own cheek, then stops when he feels how disturbingly hollowed out it is. "Before that... are there any leftovers?"

Everyone's staring at him. Leo's too tired to puzzle out why they're all staring at him. Maybe there really aren't any leftovers? He did just watch Donnie throw everything away. Maybe there were some, but now they'd have to fish it out of the trash. Leo wants to say he'd happily eat it out of the trash, but that would be really weird and they'd stare at him even more.

(But he would eat it out of the trash. He may be too proud to say it out loud, but he can admit it to himself.)

"O-or," he says quickly, to fill the silence after his last question, "if... if it's not too much trouble, can you ask Dad and Barry to bring something with them when they come back? Even if it's just something from a gas station, or..." They're still staring, and Leo feels himself starting to ramble desperately, "Or if it's too late, I can just... I can just go back to sleep, hah, but... but can someone at least wake me up so I don't miss breakfast?"

His family stutters back to life at that. Raph gives a furious shake of his head and says, "Forget breakfast," which makes Leo's heart and stomach lurch painfully. Waiting until lunch? That feels like forever away.

But then Raph continues with, "Leo, why didn't you tell us you're hungry right now?"

Leo falters. "Uh... just... didn't want to interrupt the flow of the conversation," he says, which is true, but the way everyone is looking at him now, he's pretty sure it's the wrong answer.

"Please," says April, tone very close to exasperated, "interrupt the conversation."

"Will do," says Leo. But he's still not sure what to do, because no one has told him when food is coming.

(You want this? You beg for it.)

Before he can spin out on that thought, Mikey jumps off the bed and heads for the mini-fridge that Leo hadn't noticed until now. He yanks open the door and pulls out two takeout containers, a box and a cylindrical container.

"We weren't sure what you felt up to, so we got you steak hibachi and miso soup," Mikey says, waving each container in turn.

The thought of having to actually chew and swallow sounds exhausting, so Leo says, "Soup's fine." And then, just in case, he adds hastily, "Please."

"Okay," says Mikey, and even though he's clearly trying to sound upbeat, Leo can hear the strain in his voice. "Just give me a minute to heat it up for you!"

Leo would eat it cold. Leo would eat it frozen. But he bites that back and waits.

Mikey puts it in the microwave on top of the fridge. Every little tick down on the timer feels like it takes three eternities. The rest of his family seems to feel the tension as much as he does.

"April!" says Donnie abruptly, too loud to be natural. "You wanted to see what's on the sci-fi channel!"

"Thaaat's right!" she says, also a little too loudly. "I did. Hand me the remote."

Donnie gives her the remote. She turns on the TV just as the microwave dings.

Mikey yanks the door open as soon as it does, pulling the bowl out with no regard for how hot it is. He gives it a perfunctory blow to cool it down, then hurries over to the bed, pausing only to grab a plastic spoon off a little pile of utensils on the table.

He hands both the bowl and spoon to Leo, but Leo already knows his arms won't be able to maneuver the spoon, so he lets it fall into his lap, in favor of lifting the entire container to his lips. He hopes he doesn't look too pathetically eager as he tilts it back and takes his first sip.

It's good.

It's so good he starts crying.

It's not even the best miso soup he's ever had. In fact, it's a little too oily and nowhere near as good as the kind his dad makes, or what Mikey is capable of. But it doesn't matter. It wouldn't matter if this was the worst soup in the world, because right now it's the best thing Leo has ever tasted.

He may be crying more over this than he did over hugs from his family. Maybe he'll have it in him to feel bad for that later.

The TV is showing some old monster movie. His siblings pretend they're watching that and not watching him. He appreciates that, because it makes him feel less self-conscious as he desperately slurps down the soup, practically guzzling it, only pausing when he has to chew the greens here and there.

He eats until his stomach is full and warm. And then he keeps going. There's still soup left, and stopping feels impossible.

(Besides, no one actually promised him breakfast.)

"Hey, maybe you should slow down," says Donnie. Leo pauses, looking up at him, licking the remains of soup off his lips. The container is still about a third full.

Maybe Donnie is right. His stomach is actually starting to cramp. But... but...

He doesn't know what his face looks like right now. But something about it makes Donnie look sad.

He turns away, rubbing right between his fake eyebrows. "Okay, okay. Just... don't overdo it."

Leo sighs, grateful the soup isn't being taken away. He goes back to drinking it, feeling like the chasm inside him is finally beginning to fill.

-----

The next time Leo wakes up, it's because he has to puke. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to communicate that before it's all over himself and the bedsheets.

"Whoa, Leo-" someone says, and then there's a flurry of activity around him. He can't keep up with who goes where and who says what. It's a lot to keep track of when he just woke up and is spewing half-digested miso soup and stomach bile.

"There we go... You're alright, Blue, you're alright," he hears once he comes back to his senses, and he blinks and looks over. His dad is standing on the bed next to him, and he leans in with a damp washcloth and wipes at Leo's face and mouth.

"Perhaps the soup was too much for your stomach," Splinter says as he finishes, tossing the washcloth into the floor. "How do you feel?"

"Mm... weird," Leo admits, leaning sleepily into his dad's shoulder. He shouldn't because he's gross, but Splinter lets him do it, stroking his cheek. "My stomach hurts..."

The loss of the food hurts; without anything in his stomach, he'll feel hungry again soon. Leo is terrified of that, of the deep empty chasm of his hunger returning, sucking him down into its depths. At the same time, the idea of eating makes him feel queasy.

He feels weird, and miserable, and scared, and he doesn't know when his dad came back, but he's so glad he's here.

"How much did you let him eat?" he hears Draxum ask. Leo finds the energy to feel offended that he's being talked about like he isn't in the room, but not enough energy to actually say anything about it.

"As much as he wanted," Mikey answers. Which, as Leo recalls, was almost all of the soup.

"And how much was that?"

"Here, look."

There's the sound of the mini-fridge being opened again. The pop of the takeout lid. Draxum hums in a way that does not sound pleased.

"Leonardo," he says, coming to stand by the bed now. "I have a very important question and I need you to answer: when was the last time you ate?"

Leo stares at him blearily. Then he raises a tired hand and indicates the mess all down his front.

"Don't get cute," says Draxum, ignoring the following grunt of warning Splinter directs his way. "You know what I'm asking you."

Of course Leo knows. But he doesn't want to answer. Not while his dad is holding him, and all his siblings are watching him expectantly. They aren't going to like what he has to tell them. He doesn't want to upset them.

But Draxum is unmoved and steely eyed. There's no way Leo is getting out of this without answering.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and leaning into Splinter so he doesn't have to be looking at the rest of them when he says it.

"Last time I ate was at Run of the Mill."

He hears a gasp, hears Mikey yell, "What!?" Feels Splinter's sharp intake of breath under his cheek, and then his dad shifts so he can hold him even closer.

"They... they didn't feed you in there at all?" asks April, like she doesn't quite believe it.

Leo nods.

"I should have leveled the whole building!" Donnie snaps, and Leo hears something get knocked to the ground.

Mikey comes closer, and puts a hand on his shoulder, drawing Leo's gaze back his way. He looks so upset, and Leo regrets looking. "Leo, why didn't you tell us? You didn't even say you were hungry!"

"Felt weird to bring it up in the middle of the happy reunion," he says. It's a weak justification, he knows. The look on Mikey's face just gets more miserable.

"Wait," Raph cuts in. "Wait, so... when Bishop said he gave you chances to cooperate for better living conditions, he meant..."

Leo swallows hard, not wanting to look at the distress on Raph's face. "Feeding me, yeah."

"What did he want out of you? What was he making you do?"

This part, at least, Leo can answer easily. "He wanted information. About the yokai and the Hidden City."

Raph sounds surprised. "He just... wanted you to answer questions?"

"Yeah." Leo nods again. "Like, how to get in, how many portals there are, what kind of defense capabilities there are, stuff about Draxum... That's what I remember."

"Why didn't you just tell them?"

Now Leo does look at Raph's face. He's staring at Leo with open horror and distress. But Leo doesn't understand the question, or the look. He did what he was supposed to, didn't he? He held out and didn't give Bishop any information. He did the right thing. So Raph has no reason to look so upset.

He smiles in a way he hopes is reassuring. "Hey, that's not what a hero would do, right?"

It's apparently not reassuring. If anything, Raph only looks more horrified.

He turns away from Leo abruptly and marches straight out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.

Leo doesn't understand that reaction. He did what he was supposed to, but Raph is mad at him, anyway. The rest of his family seems shocked, too, so at least Leo isn't alone.

"I'll talk to him," says April, the first to move. She leaves with much less noise, disappearing into the dark parking lot beyond the door.

Awkward silence envelops the room after that. Leo doesn't know what to do or say to break it. He made Raph mad, because he never does anything right, according to Raph. It's the same as always, but for some reason Leo feels even worse this time.

"...Well," says Draxum, cutting through the awkwardness when it becomes clear no one else wants to, "knowing this, we will have to be much more careful about what and how much you eat. I'll make a meal plan."

"Why you?" Leo grouses. "Let Donnie do it."

Donnie opens his mouth like he wants to agree, but Draxum cuts him off before he can.

"Me, because I have actual experience designing nutritious meal plans for children." Leo thinks of what he's heard about Draxum's lunchroom and makes a face, which Draxum ignores. "Besides, I can't trust any of the rest of you to actually tell Leo he can't have more to eat."

"I can handle myself," Leo argues.

"Clearly," says Draxum icily, indicating the mess still in Leo's lap, "you cannot."

Leo doesn't have a good response for that, and no one steps up to his defense. Back not even twenty four hours, and he already has multiple people mad at him. That has to be a new record.

"...Whatever," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. Draxum nods like he actually gave approval.

There's another round of awkward silence. Splinter breaks it this time.

"Why doesn't someone call housekeeping to ask for some fresh sheets," he says, "while I help Blue take a bath."

"Ugh, yes, I'm calling them now," says Donnie. Leo notes for the first time that his most persnickety brother is as far from his bed as possible, having put the second bed and the table between them. "The whole room is starting to smell."

Leo cringes. "Sorry..."

"There is nothing for you to apologize for," his dad reassures him, patting his head. Leo isn't sure he'd say that, but he doesn't waste breath arguing. "Now, come with me."

It takes some maneuvering, but they get him out of bed without making a bigger mess. Mikey starts stripping the sheets, and he can hear Donnie on the phone with the staff across the room.

Leo's still not wearing any of his gear. It shouldn't matter because he's just in a room with his family, but he still walks to the bathroom as quickly as he can.

Splinter shuts the door once they're inside, then fills a little plastic cup with water. This he hands off to Leo, saying, "Drink this, and I will run you a nice warm bath."

Leo does as he says, and tries not to think too much about how Raph is mad at him.

-----

There's an old concrete barrier that stands between the motel parking lot and an open field. Raph hefts a piece of the crumbling concrete and chucks it as hard as he can, watching as it disappears into the tall grass beyond.

They starved him. They starved his little brother for over a week, because he wouldn't answer some questions. And he wouldn't answer those questions because...

That's not what a hero would do.

Raph's ninpo flares to life. Punching out another piece of the barrier is easy; he lifts the broken pieces and throws them after the first, watching them sail through the air.

"You better hope there aren't any security cameras out here," says a voice behind him, and he looks over his shoulder.

April is there, standing a few feet back, hands tucked in the pockets of her jacket. Raph's ninpo stutters out at the sight of her; he wonders if he looked scary.

"...What are they gonna do even if there are?" he asks. But he does stop his wanton destruction.

"I don't know, but just remember it's my credit card on file for damages." Her voice is teasing, though, and he knows she isn't actually mad. She comes over, turning so she can lean against part of the barrier that's still intact. "Come on, Big Red. Talk to me."

Raph doesn't turn around. He can't stand to look back at the motel, at the room where his brother is, tiny and weak and with a stomach that's been empty for days on end. He can't handle it right now. So he keeps his eyes on the field.

"Leo let those guys hurt him," he says.

"No he didn't," says April. "He can't help what they did to him."

"If he'd just answered their questions, they would have fed him."

"We can't know that." April shakes her head. "You heard what Draxum said about those guys. You saw what they were like. Maybe if Leo had answered their questions, they would have just killed him. Leo was probably thinking that, too."

"But that's not what he said," Raph points out.

"...Look." April takes a deep breath. "Leo... just went through a lot. We don't know what he was thinking while he was in there, or what he's thinking now. And you know that boy likes to say flashy things. Don't take anything he says right now too seriously."

"But what if this is the most truthful he's gonna be? What if he just hasn't thought of a good lie yet?"

"Raph-"

"No, you don't get it, April." Raph holds his head in his hands, like he can physically hold the dark thoughts at bay, but he can't, and they keep coming: horrific images of what could have happened, if they'd been too late, if the EPF had been less patient. "I told him to stop thinking of himself! Right before he disappeared, I told him he needed to be a hero! But Raph didn't mean like this!"

"Hey now, you don't know-" April tries, but Raph cuts her off.

"I just wanted him to stop doing everything himself! All the showboating, all the running in without talkin' to us... Raph just wanted him to remember that we're a team!" He lets go of his head and grips the concrete instead, so hard it cracks and crumbles under his fingers. "What if he took that to mean he should risk his life for everyone else? That he had to sacrifice himself?"

"Oookay, slow down there, big guy," says April, turning around and putting a hand on his arm. "You're taking one thing he said and blowing it way out of proportion."

"But what if I'm right?" Raph shakes his head. "How do I live with that, if I am? Knowing I almost killed him?"

"Okay, you look at me right now," she demands, in a way Raph can't refuse. He turns, and she reaches up and grabs his face by the cheeks, yanking him down until he bends to her eye level.

"You did not almost kill him. That was those EPF guys." Her voice is stern, and her grip on his face prevents him from objecting. "And even if you are right, and it's what you said to Leo that kept him from answering... well, then that's something the two of you will have to work out together."

She lets him go, putting her hands on her hips. "But what's done is done. Right now, Leo is exhausted and starved, and he's not really in a state for big emotional talks. So let's just get some space and get your head on straight. Once we get him home and everything's calmed down, the two of you can hash this out."

Raph lets out a strangled laugh, slumping down against the crumbling barrier. "Yeah, because that's so easy."

"I'm not saying it's easy." She sits down next to him, putting her hand on his arm. "But you guys love each other, so you'll do the hard things you have to do. I know you got this." She gives him a wink. "You're Raph."

Raph isn't sure he has that much faith in himself. But April isn't wrong very often, so he thinks he should probably listen to her.

-----

The water feels nice on Leo's skin, pleasantly warm and soothing. He sinks down until all but his eyes are in the water, letting it swirl around him.

He still feels a little exposed, but it's only Splinter in here, and that helps. It's like he's a little kid again, getting a bath from his dad, but he has to scrunch to cram his legs in the tub and that ruins the illusion.

"My Baby Blue always did enjoy a nice bath," says Splinter fondly, rustling up hotel soap for them to use.

He wets a washcloth and lathers it up, then cleans off the top of Leo's head and back of his neck, then down to his shoulders and the ridge of his shell. Leo would normally protest this kind of treatment, but right now he's not sure he can lift his arms above his head, so he doesn't.

Besides, it feels nice.

"Float on your front," Splinter says, adding, "Deep breath." It's what he always said when they were kids and he wanted to wash their shells. Everyone but Mikey can hold their breath for a long time, but he always says it anyway.

Leo takes a deep breath and flips onto his front, closing his eyes as his dad washes the back of his shell. It's so soothing he could almost take a nap here. The world is nicely muted under the water.

Splinter gives his shell three pats with his hand, the signal to sit back up. Leo does, rolling onto his back to rinse off. Splinter hands him the washcloth and soap, and he cleans his lower half, taking care around the bottom ridges of his shell.

"Thanks for the bath, Daddio," he says as he finishes. "I know I was starting to get pretty ripe." He pulls up the drain plug with a pop, watching the dirty water spin away.

He tries to imagine he's watching the last of that place drain away with it.

Splinter retrieves a fluffy white towel, drying off the top of Leo's head before handing it off. "I wasn't thinking of that," he says. "But I know a good bath always made you feel better when you were sick."

It was never really about the bath, but the undivided dad attention. How Splinter would wash his shell and pat his head and dry him off, just like he's doing now.

It occurs to Leo that he almost lost this forever, and its like his breath is taken away. He buries his face in the towel and tries to ride through it - he doesn't want to cry again.

Splinter must pick up on it, because suddenly he's sitting on the side of the tub, rubbing the top of Leo's shell. "It's okay, Blue. You're safe."

He's safe.

He really is safe, isn't he?

He lowers the towel and turns into his dad instead, wriggling his head into his lap. Splinter welcomes him, patting his head with one hand and the top of his shell with another. Leo's breath hitches and the tears break free.

"I know," says Splinter, and his voice is thick with emotion. Leo knows he can't look or he'll start sobbing. "I... was very scared for you, my son. I am so glad you're here, Leonardo. I love you very much."

"L-love you too," he warbles. His tears are falling fast, now, and Splinter takes the towel and dries them away every now and then.

By the time Leo sits up and rubs at his eyes, the towel is totally soaked through from being in the tub. Splinter moves away to grab him a fresh one, which Leo wraps himself up in.

"Leonardo," says Splinter hesitantly once he is out of the tub, "I know you may not want to talk about it right now. But I need to ask you this."

Leo wonders where this is going. He sits down on the toilet lid, looking at his dad. "Uh, okay."

Splinter looks him up and down before asking, "Did those men... hit you? Or touch you in any way?"

Oh. Leo shakes his head. "No. They didn't... I mean, they just put me in that room. They weren't, like... torturing me or anything."

He thought that would reassure his dad, but if anything Splinter only looks more sad.

"Not feeding you is torturing you," he says.

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess." Leo rubs the back of his head. "But I mean, they weren't... you know. Shocking me or whipping me or... putting me in that medieval stretchy thing from the movies."

"I see." His dad sighs, but nods. "Very well. I'm glad, at least, that you do not have any injuries."

Leo nods back. "Yeah, no, I'm all good." He tries to smile, but his smiles aren't really having the effect they usually do.

"Are you ready to go back?" asks Splinter, moving to the door. Leo nods again, standing up. "Are you still cold?"

Leo blinks in surprise, then realizes Splinter is referring to the towel he still has wrapped around himself. He's not really that cold anymore, but he grabs onto the convenient excuse, anyway.

"Uh, yeah." He grins sheepishly. "Actually, did you guys bring any of my clothes? I'm a little worried about the ride home."

"Ah." Splinter taps his chin. "I don't think we brought any of your things. Your brothers brought their hoodies, I believe, in case they needed to go in a store..." He reaches up and pats Leo's hand. "There is a gift shop in the motel lobby. I will send Purple and Orange in the morning - I'm sure they'd enjoy doing some shopping!"

"Thanks. I just need a sweatshirt or something. Maybe some pajama pants." He shrugs. "Gotta stay toasty, right?"

"That's right. No more turtle-cicles." Splinter reaches up and turns the doorknob, gesturing for Leo to lead the way.

Leo shuffles for the bed, keeping the towel tight around himself as he goes. He doesn't drop it until he's under the sheets again, safely tucked away.

Raph isn't back yet. The realization turns Leo's stomach. But Mikey barrels into bed next to him, cuddling up against one side, while Donnie scoots in on the other, tapping away at his phone, and Leo tries to forget about it.

He's sure that, as soon as he's better, Raph will be back to yell at him.

-----

Leo doesn't realize Draxum left until he comes back. He did doze off for a bit there, though, so it's not surprising.

Mikey was snoozing against Leo's arm, too, but when the door clicks shut he raises his head, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Donnie looks up from his phone. Splinter's asleep in the other bed, only grumbling incoherently at the noise before rolling over.

(Raph and April still haven't come back. It makes Leo's heart thud a little harder.)

"Hey Barry," says Mikey, voice still a little sleepy. He pushes himself up to sit against the pillows. "Find what you were looking for?"

"Yes." Draxum walks over to the bed, pulling a bottle out of a pharmacy bag. He twists the cap loose, then holds it out and says, "Leonardo, drink this."

Leo can't help the way his face screws up as he takes it, eyeing the label on the bottle. "Eugh. What is this?"

"Vegetable juice," Draxum informs him dryly.

"Gross." Leo does not bring the bottle any closer to his lips. "Can I have soda instead?"

"Absolutely not." Draxum's voice is stern. "No sugar or caffeine until I say otherwise."

The next several days are looking worse and worse. Leo grimaces. "Can I just drink water, then?"

"You can and should drink water. But you also need to steadily reintroduce your body to nutrients. The vegetable juice will help, until your stomach can handle more solid food at a time."

Leo groans, eyeing the bottle warily. Anything labeled "juice" should not be this color of red-orange.

"Draxum's just trying to help, Leo!" Mikey chimes in. "Besides, vegetable juice isn't that bad."

It's not the most reassuring endorsement, given that Mikey loves vegetables in a way Leo has never understood. But with his little brother cheering him on, he can't back down.

"Fine. Down the hatch," he mutters, then takes a swig. It tastes just as off-putting as he was imagining, and he shudders and smacks his lips. "Yuck."

"Sorry, Leo." Mikey pats his arm comfortingly. "As soon as Barry says it's okay, we'll get pizza!"

"Please don't remind me of pizza right now..."

"Here." Leo looks up to find Draxum is holding out a handful of crackers. "Eat these, too. Be sure you chew them thoroughly before you swallow. And keep drinking the juice."

Leo takes the crackers in his free hand, putting them in his lap on top of the sheets. There's only six, and they look boring even for crackers. but his stomach perks up with interest, reminding Leo that everything he put in it before got thrown up.

Leo thought he was going to be waiting until breakfast to eat again. The crackers ease that tension, relief he hadn't consciously realized he needed.

Still, can't let Draxum think Leo actually appreciates all his bullying, so Leo still makes a face as he holds up one of the crackers and examines it.

"And these are...?"

"Are you going to react like this to everything?" asks Draxum with a scoff. "They're whole wheat crackers. They'll settle your stomach, and you need food in you so can take these vitamins."

He pulls a bottle out of his bag and shakes it, filling the room with the sound of pills rattling around. Leo scrunches up his snout.

"You didn't get me the chewable kind? Or those fruit gummy ones?"

"Are you such a child you need your medicine in the form of candy?" Draxum rolls his eyes. "You will be just fine with the pills."

"Okay, okay!" Leo groans theatrically, leaning his head back. "I can't believe you guys are letting him take care of him. He'll be feeding me bugs and leaves next."

"Stop whining. No one wants to hear it this late."

"I actually like these crackers," says Donnie. "They're delightfully bland."

This statement is followed by a crunch.

The sound sends a shiver up Leo's shell, and he turns his head in time to see Donnie, one of Leo's crackers in his hand, a big bite taken out of it. He chews and swallows with a slight smile on his face, clearly unconcerned that he just took one of Leo's crackers.

Leo only had six crackers to start. Now there's five. He doesn't know when he gets any more. No one promised him breakfast. And now he only has five crackers, and not six. And he can feel the hunger coming back.

Donnie turns his head and they lock eyes. Leo has no idea what his own expression looks like, but Donnie's turns startled and then almost frightened. He's so shocked he drops the rest of the cracker into his own lap.

Leo just barely stops himself from snatching it back.

Because that would be weird. What he's doing right now is weird. Everyone is staring at him, the room has gone silent, he's acting like Donnie just committed an unforgivable sin when all he did was take a cracker, like the two of them haven't been casually taking each other's food their entire lives.

He's being weird. He needs to stop. He needs to go back to normal right now.

Five crackers can be enough. It's enough it's enough it's-

Leo forces his brain to restart, his face and posture to relax, his fingers to unclench. He schools his mouth into an unserious grin, glancing back at Draxum. "H-hey, so... how many crackers do I need to eat? Since Thief-atello just stole one."

"I'm sorry," Donnie blurts out, an extremely rare apology. "I wasn't thinking."

Leo waves a hand. "It's cool, man," he says.

"No," Donnie insists. "I shouldn't have done that, I don't know why I did that-"

Great, first he pisses off Raph and now Donnie's freaked out. Leo's family came all the way to Colorado to save him and all he's done since then is upset them.

"Dee," says Leo, and he knocks one shoulder against Donnie's. "Seriously. It's fine."

Because it is. They take food from each other all the time. Leo's the one who made it weird, not Donnie, even if he did take one of Leo's crackers.

Donnie looks at him, uncertain. He still hasn't touched the remaining cracker in his lap. Leo wishes he would finish eating it now, so it isn't tempting him.

"...Still. I won't do it again," says Donnie finally, looking down at his lap and wringing his hands. He looks miserable, and Leo hates that he caused this.

Before he can do or say anything more, Draxum gets Leo's attention by holding out a new cracker. "Here," he says, waiting until Leo takes it, before handing a few to the still shell-shocked Donnie. "Both of you can have crackers. Now don't squabble, you'll disturb the neighbors."

Donnie puts the crackers in his lap and doesn't touch them again. The air in the room is stifling. And Leo wants to eat his own crackers, but now it feels awkward.

"I think you should steal one of his to get him back," says Mikey in an exaggerated whisper, a gallant attempt to dispel the tension. It doesn't quite work, but it breaks the silence enough for Leo to force out a chuckle and pick up a cracker.

"Everyone eat what you've been given and settle down," says Draxum, going to sit on the other bed. Splinter mumbles in his sleep again and rolls over. Everyone relaxes a little more.

Leo bites into the cracker. It tastes like all of nothing, but it has a pleasant crunch between his teeth, and he finds that he likes it.

Next to him, Donnie hesitantly finishes off his own half-finished cracker. Then he half-heartedly eats the others. Leo drinks his vegetable juice, then swallows the pill Draxum gives him.

Mikey does his best to fill the room with happy chatter, and the mood lightens, little by little.

Everything's okay. He just can't do that again.

-----

Everyone but Draxum is asleep when Raph and April come back into the room, just a little before dawn. Splinter is splayed out across the bed closest to the door, while all three of his little brothers are curled around each other in the bed by the bathroom.

Raph and April spent a long time sitting by the barrier, talking intermittently between long spells of silence. Then they moved to the tank, taking a nap together on the bench seats.

April has her travel pillow and blanket now, and she takes both and spreads out at the foot of his brothers’ bed, wisely putting her head by Donnie, who sleeps still as the dead, and not Mikey, who has already moved several times since they walked in. She yawns and then conks out almost immediately, glasses held loosely in her hand against her chest.

Raph wishes he didn’t feel quite so wide awake.

Draxum is sitting in one of the chairs by the table, phone in hand. He has a notebook open and scribbles into it with a pen. Raph comes over and takes a peek: it’s all notes about nutrition, the vitamins that are most critically needed after a long term starvation event.

Draxum’s helping Leo. That makes Raph feel better, and he sinks into the other chair, leaning his head back.

“You should try to get some sleep,” says Draxum, voice low. “We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“Raph’s good,” he says, staying where he is.

He feels Draxum’s eyes on him, for a moment. “I’m taking watch. Go to sleep, Raphael.”

Raph hesitates, then gets up from the chair and goes to lay down next to his dad. Splinter grumbles in his sleep, but rolls over like he knows to make room for a son crawling into his bed.

From here Raph can see Leo’s face. It’s gaunt and washed out, and even with all the sleeping he’s done there are still dark circles under his eyes. He looks so fragile, and the anger burns in his chest again, that anyone could hurt him like this.

He’s safe now, though. Mikey has an arm curled around his plastron, and Donnie flanks his other side like a guard. He’s able to rest, and eat, and get better.

Raph remembers what April said. Give Leo time to heal, then talk about what happened in there. He can do that. He can be patient.

He hadn’t thought he would be able to sleep, but lying still, with his sleeping family all around him, safe and sound, puts him under in minutes.

-----

"Morning, Leo!"

Leo blinks awake, taking in his surroundings. The walls are beige, the bed is blue, there's a TV playing the morning news on low volume, there's sunlight shining through the window.

He can smell food.

"It's breakfast time!" says Mikey. He's standing next to the bed, holding a tray. Leo wriggles until he's sitting up against the pillows, grinning as he pats his lap.

"Thanks, Mikey."

"You're welcome!" Mikey gives Leo a thousand watt smile as he sets the tray down.

Leo wishes he could feel as enthusiastic as his little brother as he gets a look at his breakfast. There's a large cup of white yogurt, and a little plate of scrambled eggs that don't even look like they have pepper on them. He's glad he has food, he just wishes it was something more exciting.

He lifts his eyes and takes a look around the room. Donnie is in one of the chairs by the table, tapping away on his phone. April is in the other chair, and she smiles and gives him a little wave when he meets her eyes. His dad is in the other bed, munching on what looks like a muffin and watching the news. He doesn't see Raph, but he hears the shower running.

Draxum is standing by the doorway, watching Leo. When their gazes meet, he sighs, rubbing the furrow on his forehead.

"Are you going to ask me what you're eating again?"

"Yes!" Leo points at the cup of yogurt. "What is this!? It's not even fruit flavored!"

"It's Greek yogurt. You can have fruit when your stomach is more settled."

"Ugh..." Leo sighs, grabbing the plastic spoon off his tray and scooping up a tiny bite of yogurt. It's not terrible, but without any fruit it's not very exciting.

"Hey, look at the bright side," says Mikey, holding out a plastic cup. "You get apple juice this morning! Since it had no sugar added, Draxum said it's okay!"

Leo musters up a smile. "Well, it's better than vegetable juice..."

"Don't get too excited," says Draxum dryly. "You'll be drinking more on the drive home."

"You're such a buzzkill, Drax," Leo huffs, taking a bite of his eggs now. They're unseasoned, but they're something. And there's the part of him that is just happy to have any food, simmering under the surface and demanding he eat faster. To keep himself from cramming the whole of the plate in his mouth at once, he turns to Mikey. "Hey, sneak me a muffin. Blueberry or chocolate chip."

Mikey grimaces. "I don't think Barry wants me to do that..."

Leo pouts, chewing his eggs slowly. "Who are you going to listen to, him or me?"

"He'll listen to me," says Draxum sternly. "If you're still hungry after that, you can have some more crackers."

Leo sighs, but part of him feels better knowing the crackers are still on the table. He crams more eggs in his mouth and chews as sulkily as possible.

There's an Old Navy ad playing on TV. Splinter sits up straighter in bed when he sees it, getting muffin crumbs everywhere. "Ah, that reminds me! Blue wanted some warm clothes to wear on the ride home." Splinter reaches out and pats Mikey on the arm. "Orange, Purple - why don't the two of you go to the gift shop and do some shopping? You can get a souvenir for yourselves as well."

"Oooh, yes!" Mikey bounces excitedly in place. "Dibs on picking out Leo's clothes!"

"Gasp!" Donnie stands up, pointing at him dramatically. "You know I'm the fashionable one in this family! Leo, tell him you want me to pick out your clothes for our return trip!"

"Mmm, I dunno..." Leo grins up at his little brother, giving him a wink. "I think Angelo's got this."

Donnie makes a noise of utter betrayal while Mikey cheers and stoops to give Leo a hug. "I won't let you down, Leon!" he promises, giving Leo a big smooch on the top of his head.

"I know you won't."

"Fine then! I'll just have to make you all jealous with my own selections." Donnie looks down. "April, do you want to join us?"

"Yeah, sure." April stands up, stretching her arms above her head. "Maybe I'll get a keychain or something."

The three of them file out of the room, Donnie and Mikey still arguing animatedly. Draxum takes one of the abandoned chairs, and Splinter goes back to watching the news.

Leo continues eating his bland breakfast, and tries not to spend too much time wondering when his next meal will be. At least he's been promised crackers.

-----

Raph comes out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, just as Leo's finishing up his breakfast with a few crackers. He nearly jumps when their eyes meet.

"Oh, hey, Leo," he says, voice a forced cheerful. "You're awake! That's great!"

"Yeah," says Leo back, trying not to sound too awkward and failing. He holds up his empty cup. "Just finished breakfast."

"O-oh, yeah. Was it... good?"

Leo grimaces. "Not really."

"Oh." Raph hovers in the doorway, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Leo wonders if he should apologize, but he still doesn't know what he's apologizing for, so he doesn't.

He'd know if Raph would just go ahead and yell at him, but Raph doesn't seem eager to start. Maybe he doesn't think Leo is healed up enough yet, or maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of Splinter. Either way, no yelling seems forthcoming.

Instead, Raph says, "Uh, where's everyone else?"

"Shopping for clothes for Blue and for souvenirs for themselves," Splinter answers.

"Oh, cool. Maybe... maybe I'll go join 'em!"

Raph pats Leo on the head as he goes by, then leaves the room like it's on fire. Leo is silent; he has no idea what to say or do.

He's out of food now, too. He's already asked Draxum for crackers once, and he's not sure if asking again will actually gain him anything. And with Mikey gone, he feels too anxious to try.

He settles back on his pillows and turns his eyes to the TV, lifting the plastic spoon in his hands. He slots the handle between his teeth and chews, relaxing at the feel of it. It's sturdier than the water bottles, so he can't flatten it down as easily, but the way he can munch on it endlessly has its own appeal.

The news drones on. His dad laughs at something the anchors say. Draxum scribbles away at a notebook. And Leo leans back on his pillows and chews on the spoon.

On the ticker at the bottom of the screen, he notices the tail end of a news item about a training accident at a military facility in Colorado Springs - one injured.

-----

The outfit Mikey has picked out is a sky blue hoodie with "PIKE'S PEAK" in big block letters and darker blue plaid sweatpants. They meet Leo's standards for softness and comfiness, if not quite his standards for style. It's fine, because he's after the former right now.

"Did I do good?" Mikey asks, bouncing on his toes.

"You did great," Leo responds, motioning him closer so he can rub his head affectionately. It lacks his usual punch, but Mikey laughs and wiggles away anyway.

"We also got," Mikey rummages around in the gift store bag, then pulls out, "matching fuzzy socks!"

The socks are in their signature colors and have snowboarders on them, and each set has a terrible pun like, "SNOW RULES!" and "COOLER THAN COOL!" Leo loves them immediately.

"I think this is the best gift you've ever gotten me," says Leo sincerely. Mikey beams and comes in for a hug that Leo gladly returns.

"Here, put 'em on!" says Mikey after he backs away, nodding at the hoodie and pants on the bed. "You don't want to be cold, right?"

"Right," says Leo, lifting the hoodie in his arms. A quick glance around the room shows that they're all looking at him now - Mikey, Donnie, and April by the bed, Splinter from the other bed, Draxum at the table, Raph hovering in the doorway. Waiting for him to put the clothes on.

He wishes they wouldn't.

It's weird. He's never felt self-conscious like this. He and his brothers have never really practiced modesty the way humans do, especially around each other. And yet the idea of standing in front of them now with no clothes, not even his mask, makes him feel strangely queasy.

He tries to tell himself it's because of how he looks now. Stick thin arms and legs, weird, unhealthy skin tone, dark circles under his eyes that a few hours of unconsciousness and one night of intermittent sleep have definitely not erased. That it's just his normal vanity.

But he can still feel it: that guard's eyes on him, any time he left the safety of his hiding spot under his cot.

He pulls the hoodie on over his head while he's still in bed. Then he crawls out of bed and pulls the pants on as fast as he can.

He looks around to see if anyone noticed, but their expressions haven't changed. Mikey gives him a thumbs up.

He relaxes. With the clothes on, the feeling of being exposed finally ebbs away. And it is warmer like this, which is a plus.

It's okay. In a day or two, he'll be over this weird self-consciousness and back to normal, and no one has to know about it.

"Well, how do I look?" he asks, grinning and turning in a circle. Mikey and April clap indulgently for him.

"Lookin' good, Leo," says April, and he gives her a wink.

"Well, even though you chose to forego my aesthetic sensibilities, I got you something, too," says Donnie, pushing his way forward. He holds out a pair of flipflops, which say "We're in" and "CO" on the toes and have cartoon giraffes on the heels. Leo can't help but grin when he sees them. "Trust me, you'll want these if we have to go into any gas station restrooms. Shudder."

Leo laughs, then reaches out an arm to pull Donnie into a hug before he can escape. To his surprise, Donnie doesn't even put up a token fight against it, hugging him back more fiercely than usual.

"Thanks, I love them," he says into Donnie's ear.

"Of course you do," says Donnie smugly, but his eyes are suspiciously shiny when he breaks the hug. Nothing feels awkward between them now, even given the cracker incident earlier, and Leo is glad.

“Okay!” says April, clapping her hands. “Checkout’s in thirty minutes - if you have anything else to do, do it now.”

“Wait,” says Leo, looking around. “Where’s my mask?” It’d be nice for hiding the dark circles.

“Oh, I think Raph grabbed it,” says April, but when she turns, Raph is gone. April presses her fingers to her forehead and sighs. “Okay, you can get it later.”

Leo’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He reaches around and grabs a bottle of vegetable juice Draxum gave him, draining the last of it.

“Checkout in twenty eight minutes,” says Donnie to cut the awkwardness. “Let’s go, people!”

Leo sits on the bed and watches his family prepare to leave, gnawing on the top of his juice bottle.

-----

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” calls a voice, and Leo blinks awake to see April standing over his cot. No, not the cot - this is the bench seat in the tank. If he’s going to be sleeping so much, he needs to stop waking up confused.

And he has been sleeping a lot. The only time they woke him up was to eat another snack of crackers with a little bit of mushed up banana, like he’s some kind of baby.

The banana did help break up the monotony, though.

Leo can’t help but hope he’s being woken up for food again.

Like she read his mind, April grins and holds out a hand to help him up. “Lunch time!” she announces.

“Oh boy,” says Leo, taking the hand and slowly getting to his feet. He’s stiff from lying in the tank for so long, and he stretches and pops his arms. “More flavorless mush.”

“Maybe we can convince Drax to give you a little salt this time,” says April with a snicker. She waits for him to slip the flipflops on, then leads him out of the tank.

It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s really been out in the sun in over a week, excluding times he’s been unconscious and the short walk from the motel room to the tank. He takes a minute to just lean his face back and feel the warmth of it on his skin. It hasn’t even been that long, and he’s used to life underground, but somehow it feels different this time, foreign and new and sweet.

When he looks back at April, she’s tearing up again. She quickly wipes at the bottoms of her eyes and pulls on a smile, linking her arm around his.

“Come on. We can grab a picnic table and sit outside.”

It's then that Leo actually takes in where they are: a big travel center, or that's what the sign on the building declare. The tank is parked at the gas pumps, and Donnie, with his hood up, is excitedly talking about it to some interested truckers who have come over. He spots Mikey over at the grassy space for dog walking, laughing while a puppy licks his face, a seemingly annoyed Draxum standing off to the side with his arms folded. He doesn't see Raph or Splinter, but April fills him in as they cross the parking lot.

"Raph and Splints are inside ordering food. They have a whole diner in there!"

"Let me guess: I'm eating soup."

"I think it's potato."

"Well, at least it's not more tomato." Leo makes a face. "If I have to drink any more vegetable juice I'm going to turn red and swell up into a ball."

"You know what pizza sauce is made out of, right?" she asks, playfully bumping into him.

"Actually, I don't," he says smoothly, bumping into her back. They fake tussle outside the door for a moment, until both of them are laughing.

Someone trying to get past clears their throat loudly, and April and Leo shoot them an apologetic look before going on inside. Leo visits the restroom and tries not to look too long at the arrays of snacks on offer. April goes to help Raph and his dad with the food.

They all end up back outside at a large picnic table. His family has a mix of foods: burgers, hot dogs, salads, chicken strips. He knows there was pizza inside, and it touches him that no one picked it.

Next to everyone else's large, full plates, his own bowl of soup feels ridiculously small and sad. But he doubts any amount of pouting will convince Draxum to let him have a burger, so he digs in. At least this has some flavor.

Lunch is nice, even if Raph is still acting weird and distant. It’s just good being in the sun and the fresh air. Leo is reluctant to leave as they finish up.

“Come with me!” says Mikey as the others go to throw their trash away and buy anything they need for the return trip. He holds out his hand, and Leo takes it and follows Mikey back toward the grassy area at the edge of the parking lot. They make sure there are no dog droppings, then lay down in the grass, looking up at the blue sky and the clouds going overhead.

“I thought it’d be nice to get a little more sun before we have to get back in the tank,” says Mikey, limbs splayed out in every direction. He’s taken off his hoodie - no one at the travel center has paid much attention to the peeks of green skin they’ve been showing off, and no one is nearby right now, anyway.

It is a little hot. But the idea of being shirtless where a stranger can see him keeps Leo fully swaddled.

He pushes that thought aside, closing his eyes and just trying to enjoy the feeling of the sun on his skin, the breeze blowing by, the grass under his fingers. He doesn’t get to touch a lot of grass in the city, but it reminds him of times they would sneak out to Central Park.

“This is really nice, Angelo,” he says. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmmm.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just laying there, with only the ambient sounds of the travel center keeping them company. Leo starts to feel like he might doze off again.

“…Hey Leo?”

Leo blinks his eyes open, craning his neck to see Mikey. “Yeah?”

“Are you… okay?”

Ah. Maybe he should have expected this.

“Of course I’m okay,” he says, voice nonchalant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh, well…” Mikey hesitantly trails off, clearly trying to decide what he wants to say.

Leo takes care of it for him. “It’s over, Mikey. You guys saved me. I’m okay.” He turns his head and grins. “And once Draxum stops being the food police, everything will be back to normal.”

“Mmm…” Mikey doesn’t sound as convinced as he should. Man, Leo’s smiles are really failing him lately. “But… if something’s bothering you… You’ll tell us, right?”

Leo pats his head. “Of course I will.”

If it’s worth bringing up to them, anyway.

Mikey’s eyes rove his face for a moment, but in the end he must be satisfied, because he smiles and rolls to toss his arm over Leo’s chest. “Okay. But I’ll hold you to that.”

“Or what, I’ll get a visit from the doctor?”

“You know it!”

Leo laughs, which gets Mikey laughing. They stay there until Raph calls their names across the parking lot, and they go back to the tank.

-----

He manages to stay awake after they stop for lunch, curled up on the bench seat. He doesn’t have the energy to talk as much as normal, but he leans against Donnie and contributes where he can. He’s just happy to be back with them, hearing and seeing them all around him.

But there’s something always at the back of his mind keeping him from fully relaxing: he doesn’t know when he gets to eat next. And he knows it will be okay - he’s with his family, and they’d never let him go hungry. He knows that, but about two and a half hours after lunch, he keeps finding himself returning to the same thought.

He’s drinking on a sugar-free Gatorade they got him at the travel center; one of the only non-vegetable or fruit drinks Draxum approved. Mikey has just finished up a story from one of the many art vlogs he watches, and, in the lag of conversation, he tries to broach the subject casually.

“Sooo… what’s our plan for the rest of the drive? Are we stopping, or…?”

“We’re going to try to make it all the way back to New York,” says April. “We already have our shifts picked out, and the autopilot is helping.”

“We can stop in a few more hours for another bathroom break,” says Donnie, pulling up a holoscreen showing their route and the drive time remaining. “Unless someone needs us to stop sooner.” He glances at Leo, and the way he’s bouncing the rim of the bottle off his teeth.

“Oh, uh, I’m good,” he says quickly, lowering the bottle. "I'm just wondering, uh... what about stopping for dinner?"

His family does about as good a job being subtle about looking at each other as he's being subtle about his worry. "We were thinking we'd probably try to find something around seven," says Donnie.

Seven. It's a little after three now. Okay. He can wait that long. What's four hours? And at least he knows what to expect now.

His family hesitantly return to their conversation. And Leo does his best to pay attention. April is telling them about all the stuff she's been doing to prepare for college in the fall, how she's already chatting with people running the student paper. She's excited about it, and Leo is excited for her.

"Ew, Leo," says Donnie suddenly, tearing him out of his thoughts. "Why are you doing that?"

Leo looks over at him in confusion. He starts to ask, Doing what?, but when he opens his mouth to speak, something falls out of his teeth and into his lap.

It's the Gatorade bottle cap, chewed down flat. Leo can see the marks from where his molars snapped through the lip, and the dents where he's been gnawing at it with his incisors.

He didn't even know he was doing that.

Everyone saw him doing that.

Embarrassment flushes through him, and he scrambles to grab the lid and toss it into their communal trash sack. Maybe no one noticed how thoroughly he had chewed on it.

"Gross," says Donnie, his nose scrunched up. So at the very least he saw. "You don't know where that's been."

"Oh please, it's not that gross," says Leo, doing his best to keep his voice light and airy. "It's just a bottle cap."

"That other people have touched and that you put into your mouth."

"Don't knock it till you try it, bro."

"I'm good not trying it."

"Your loss," says Leo with a shrug. He leans back, cool and calm and collected and not a total weirdo who gnaws on plastic like it's candy. "Stop looking at me like that, I threw it away already."

Donnie stops looking at him, literally. Things feel tense again. Leo doesn’t know how he keeps managing that.

Mikey jumps up, walking to the front of the tank, where Draxum is asleep in one of the chairs. Mikey shakes him awake, smiling in the face of his annoyed grumbling.

“Hey, Barry, is it okay if Leo has a snack?”

“Why do you have to ask him?” calls Leo, folding his arms. “Besides, I’m fine!”

His protests go ignored. “What time is it?” asks Draxum, sitting up and smoothing down his robes.

“I’m fine!” insists Leo, louder.

“It’s three fifteen,” Mikey says.

“Mm… Yes, he can have a snack.” Draxum gets up, going over to their snack cooler. “Leonardo, do you want crackers or more banana?”

“I’m fine!” Leo tries one more time, but his stomach flips when it occurs to him that he may actually not get a snack if he insists, and he wants the snack.

He sighs, sinking back in his seat, and says, “Crackers.” He wants the crunch of eating them.

Draxum brings him his crackers. There’s only four. He’s not sure why he’s getting less this time. Maybe because he was caught chewing on the lid.

He doesn’t ask. He eats what he’s been given, and then decides the best thing for everyone would be if he took another nap.

-----

Raph would have driven them all the way to New York if he’d been allowed. But they insist on having him swap with Donnie, and he ends up sitting in the back on the benches with because the other front chairs are hard for him to fit in.

Leo is asleep. He’s been sleeping a lot, but that’s to be expected. His body barely has any energy, and going by the dark circles, Raph knows he didn’t get much sleep while he was…

When Leo is awake, his family are their lively selves, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Once he goes to sleep, everyone quiets down, Donnie dims the lights in the cab, and a weird melancholy sets in.

Leo looks terrible. They haven’t talked about it, but they all know it. Raph is shocked Leo has even been able to walk on his own, but Draxum attributes that to their reinforced mutant biology. He’s swimming in a hoodie that is his size, his hands and feet are skeletal where they poke out of his clothes. Raph wonders how long it will take for him to start filling out again, to have muscle like he did before. He’s afraid to ask.

Splinter sits with Leo’s head in his lap, rubbing his shell any time he shifts in his sleep. Mikey curls up against Raph and sniffles, and Raph pulls him closer.

He has to keep reminding himself that Leo is here, and safe. He just ate a snack, and soon they’ll get another meal in him. Just give it a week or two, and they’ll have their brother back.

And then, he’ll make sure Leo knows he never has to sacrifice himself again.

-----

Home looks just like Leo remembered it, and feels totally foreign at the same time.

His family clap for him as he walks in, and he does a little bow, which is a poor decision because it leaves him feeling lightheaded after. Luckily Raph is there to catch him and carry him from the garage to the chair in the living room. Things are still weird between them, but at least Raph isn't totally avoiding him.

(Raph still hasn't yelled at him. He wishes they could just get it over with.)

They eat lunch, with Leo getting bland soup and crackers again. Draxum notes that he could have peanut butter if they could have it in the lair, which makes Raph look pointlessly guilty, so Leo changes the subject. After lunch, April gives him a big hug and tells him she'll see him soon, but she has to go back home before her mom gets too worried. Leo feels bad when he learns she's missed several days of class now, but she just laughs and pats his head.

"I'm a senior and it's May, Leo; that I show up at all is enough for them."

Everyone's tired from being on the road for over twenty four hours, so after April leaves they unanimously agree on a movie marathon/turtle pile in the living room. His brothers drag out their comfiest pillows and blankets and set up in the floor, while Splinter cuddles up with Leo in his recliner. Draxum actually stays, to everyone's surprise, and Mikey jumps at the opportunity to introduce him to the magic of Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim.

Leo drifts in and out the whole evening. He'll be awake for the whole first act of a movie, then blink and suddenly they're partway through a different film. Each time he wakes his dad is there, patting his hand and saying, "Hello, Blue," and his brothers are around him, quoting their favorite lines or jumping up to act along with their favorite parts. It's normal and it's familiar and it's warm and soft.

He eats more soup for dinner, and crackers and banana and a little pudding cup, as a treat. His family gets more sleepy as evening turns to night; his dad's snoring fills the room, and Draxum finally leaves to go to his apartment. His brothers settle in and fall asleep around the middle of Jupiter Jim's Last Trip to the Moon 17, curled up in a heap at the foot of the chair.

He's home.

He's really home.

It's over.

Leo buries his face in his dad's fur and lets that thought carry him to sleep.

-----

Leo's home and it's amazing.

Raph wishes that meant everything was back to normal.

He doesn't know how to be around Leo right now. Every time he looks at him, he sees the stick thin arms and the gaunt face and he hears Leo's voice saying, That's not what a hero would do, and he doesn't know what to say anymore. What if he accidentally says something that makes Leo feel like what happened to him was right? What if he accidentally makes Leo think he should do it again?

It's only been a day, he tries to tell himself. Leo's still spending most of his time sleeping, between his regular snacks and meals. Even when he's awake, he doesn't have much energy for conversation, seeming content to just sit and listen to everyone else. It's just not the right time. It'll get better once Leo is better.

He can wait until then.

It's the afternoon now, the day after they brought Leo home. Raph just finished his workout and is making his rounds to check on everyone, just to make sure that everyone is... well, just to make sure. Splinter is in the kitchen making tea, a kind with no caffeine or sugar, as per Draxum's instructions. Mikey and Leo are in the living room, a half-asleep Leo watching Mikey play video games on the projecter.

Donnie isn't there.

His heart lurches, no matter how much he tells himself it's okay. Donnie is fine, Donnie is home, Donnie hasn't gone missing, not right after they got Leo back.

(He'd tried to tell himself Leo was fine in the beginning, too.)

He checks their rooms first, but Donnie's is empty. Then it's up to the lab, where he finds the door closed.

He knocks, and a robotic voice asks for identification. He sighs, not wanting to play this game right now.

"Donnie, it's me. You better be in there..."

The door beeps and then slides up, revealing a dimly lit lab. At first, Raph thinks he must not be here, and he's about to turn to leave, but then he hears a noise from Donnie's big computer desk.

A sniffle.

His big brother senses shifting into hyperdrive, he speed-walks over. The door slides shut behind him with a mechanical whir.

Sure enough, Donnie is there, legs pulled up into his desk chair, face buried in his knees. His goggles are off and laying on the desk, and his computer monitor shows a video, frozen on...

A white room, almost empty, save the cot that is for some reason propped up in front of the toilet, and...

Donnie sniffles again, and Raph tears his eyes away from one little brother to the other.

"Donnie...? What is this?"

Donnie sniffs and sits up a little more, rubbing under his eyes where tear tracks are already drying. "It's the surveillance video from the EPF base."

Raph gathered that much. "Why... are you watching it?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Donnie looks up at him. "I wanted to see what they did to him."

"You couldn't just ask him?"

Donnie's drawn on eyebrows go down. "I don't know, do you want to ask him?"

Raph imagines trying to ask Leo questions like that and can't help but cringe. "Okay, no. Raph doesn't want to do that."

"Exactly." Donnie gestures at the screen. "I got this footage from the base. And I erased it permanently from their systems, for the record, and destroyed the hard drives to be sure. But I kept a copy for us. I thought, if Leo wasn't in a state to... well, just in case. We might need it for medical reasons."

"But we know what's wrong with him," Raph points out.

"Do we?"

"Uh, yeah." Raph nods. "Starvation... right?"

"Well, yes." Donnie drums his fingers on the table. "But... he's different, now. He's pretending he's not, and he's doing his normal Leo thing of joking and smiling, but... he is." Donnie scowls. "And I already asked Michael to confirm my suspicions, and he said so, too, so I know this isn't me overreacting!"

"Okay, okay!" Raph holds up his hands placatingly. "So you wanted to watch the footage to see what happened. What'd you find out?"

Donnie wilts, resting his chin on his knees. "I couldn't get further than the first twenty four hours."

Raph feels a foreboding chill run over his spine. "You couldn't... or you didn't want to?"

Donnie reaches over and presses a button. The footage shifts to a different angle, so now he can see the wall Leo was curled up against. Donnie runs the footage back at a fast speed, and Raph watches as Leo gets up a few times, disappearing into the blind spot of the camera, or going to grab water from a little slot by the door, until Donnie freezes on a new scene: the wall opening up to reveal a large window.

He leans forward, putting his hands on the desk. "Raph saw that - they were watching his cell through that."

"Yes. And he would sit in that spot," Donnie runs the footage forward a bit, to where Leo is sitting against the now white wall, "because it's in a blind spot to the window."

Raph grimaces. "He didn't want them watching him."

"But it didn't matter," says Donnie, and he reaches over and taps the button to go to a new angle... and again... and again. "They have every inch of the room covered."

Raph's heart sinks. "Does he know?"

"Leo's not dumb," says Donnie, a magnanimous statement coming from him. "He knew they had to be watching him with cameras."

"But he still tried to hide..."

"He was doing whatever he had to to feel better," concludes Donnie.

Raph sighs. "I wonder if it worked."

Donnie clicks another button, and the video player closes. He swivels his chair to face Raph, his eyes shiny again.

"I don't want to watch anymore," he admits.

Raph nods. "I wouldn't want to, either."

"No, I mean... because he was trying to hide." Donnie rubs at his eyes again. "Maybe it is a little ironic for me to be saying this, but... it feels like it would be a privacy violation."

Raph turns that over. Maybe knowing what happened to Leo could help them. But what Donnie is saying feels more important.

He puts his hand on Donnie's shoulder, the part that's bare past his battleshell, and gives it a rub. "You love him and you don't want to hurt him," he concludes.

Donnie sniffles again, and then uncurls himself, putting his legs down on the ground. He doesn't have to do more than that for Raph to catch on, and Raph scoops Donnie up into a hug that is quickly returned.

"...I keep hurting him," Donnie admits, resting his head on Raph's shoulder. "I don't know how, but it keeps happening."

"...Yeah, well, join the club," says Raph sadly. He pats at Donnie's back. "Raph can't seem to say the right thing, either."

Donnie laughs miserably. "I thought getting him back would be the hard part. And then everything would go back to normal."

"Yeah..." Raph gives him a tight squeeze. "But you know what April said?"

"What?"

"That we'll do the hard part, 'cause we love him."

"Well, April is the only other smart one in this family," says Donnie, and Raph gives him a noogie with no actual pressure.

"Everything will be okay," he says. "Raph promises."

That seems to calm Donnie down. Raph just hopes he can actually keep it.

-----

It's his first night back in his room, and for the first time since escaping, Leo can't sleep.

He doesn't know why he can't. The sheets are the same as always. The dim lights from outside his subway car filter in through the windows the same as they used to. He's wearing his favorite pajamas, which have pants and long sleeves. The temperature is warm but not too hot. Conditions are perfect.

But he can't sleep.

At first he thought maybe it's because he's alone for the first time, but he doesn't think it's that. In fact, the idea of going to one of his brothers or his dad makes him feel even more exhausted. He loves them and he loves being around them, but he's had to work hard all day to not seem too weird. He caught himself chewing his spoon at lunch and had to stop. He paced the kitchen until Draxum gave the okay for him to have a snack. Mikey poked his head in while he was changing shirts earlier and he froze up, deer in the headlights. In the end, he went to the bathroom to change, because at least there aren't windows in there.

He's being weird, and trying to not be weird is taking all his energy.

So no. He's okay being alone right now. But something is still bothering him.

It's not the bed; he slept in the motel just fine. It's not the temperature, because they're making sure the lair stays nice and warm for him. And it's not the clothes, because the clothes are covering him up. And it's not the windows because it's not even like anyone is looking through them.

Right?

It's only then that Leo realizes he keeps staring out of them.

He tears his eyes away to look at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. What is he worried about? So what if the train car is full of windows? Who would even be looking at him? It's just his family outside, and if they need to talk to him they'll come in.

Besides, the windows are see-through. If someone were looking at him, he'd be able to see them.

Just to reassure himself of that, Leo looks around at all the windows again.

Yep. Still see-through. So it's fine. It's really not a big deal! No one is going to look through the windows at him here. No one is watching him. He's safe, and if he weren't, he would know, because he can see.

...Maybe he could hide under his bed.

Leo gives his head a hard shake. No. He is not going to hide under his bed, because that would be weird, and Leonardo Hamato is not weird.

Maybe he can just... put up some curtains in his room. Just, purely for aesthetic reasons. Yeah, that would look really cool. He could get some blue ones with some kind of sick design. Add some real originality to this place.

And then he could cover the windows and no one could look in unless he wanted them to.

Not that anyone is looking in, because he's home and he's safe and he's okay and he really wants to hide under his bed-

He takes deep breaths. His eyes land on the posters on the wall of the train car.

Maybe... maybe they would look better over the windows. Just... aesthetically.

He moves the posters to the windows of the train car, pressing hard to get the old tape to stick. It covers the immediate windows around his bed, but there are still others, and they're more in the dark, so Leo can't see who might be out there.

Not that anyone would be.

But if someone were, he wouldn't be able to know.

So he grabs towels next, and t-shirts, and anything he has lying around his room, and puts them on the bed. Then he sneaks to the kitchen to find a roll of masking tape.

It's not easy, but after about an hour he's managed to cover every window in the train car with something.

Just... a preview. For how sweet the curtains are going to look. And not for any weird reasons, like being scared.

Because he's not scared. He's home, and he's safe, and no one is watching him from outside the windows.

He lays down in bed and surveys his handwork. The room is even darker now, with every window covered, completely different from the stark ever-present light in that place.

It makes him feel safe and hidden.

No one can look in, and he's shielded by the dark.

(He has no idea how he's going to explain this tomorrow.)

But when he finally shuts his eyes, he sleeps like a baby.

-----

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4 (not yet out)

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #room fic #rise leo #rise raph #rise splinter #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise april #baron draxum #cw internalized ableism #cw vomit

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alchemistc · 21 hours

Text

i like your voice in person

Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.

Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.

Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.

"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Uh...nothing, maybe."

"Sounds like something, probably."

Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"

He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.

"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"

Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.

They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.

"You mean the roles thing."

Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.

Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.

He'd needed to clear the air.

Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."

(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")

Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.

"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."

("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")

"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."

The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.

"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.

Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"

"Lay it on me."

Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."

Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"

"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"

Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.

Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.

Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.

"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."

There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.

Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.

Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.

He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.

"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"

"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"

It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.

"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.

Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.

"How do you want me, Buckley?"

The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.

"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."

Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."

The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.

"This is nicer than I expected."

Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.

"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.

The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --

Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.

To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.

They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.

He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."

Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.

#bucktommy #buck x tommy #bucktommy fic #911 fic #tevan fic #as if shoehorning sportsball into a fic wasn't enough now i've gone and added the language of flowers back into the lexicon #white camellia means 'you're adorable'#but once buck actually finds what he's looking for he ends up ordering a ridiculous bouquet of red camellia baby's breath and red salvia

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 day

Text

stress relief

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving handjob and oral, semi dub con (mainly power dynamics), bimbo!reader, ceo!rafe

“hey y/n.” rafes secretary says as you quickly make your way past her desk with a quick wave and into your bosses office, knowing you're a few minutes late.

“hi, bossman.” you smile wide as you enter, placing his iced coffee down on the coaster that stays sat out and ready.

“y/n, thank god you're here.” rafe groans, pushing himself away from his laptop, needing a break from staring at the screen.

“im only like five minutes late.” you pout, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. “it's just because your coffee was taking a long time and-”

“no, i don't care about that.” rafe shakes his head quickly. the second he saw you in the lobby, among the line of girls waiting to interview for his assistant position, he knew you'd be chosen.

tight pink shirt showing off your cleavage and a skirt that was clearly bought just for the interview, twice the length of what rafe guessed was your average skirt length, and quickly figured out he was right when you reverted back to your mini skirts.

“oh, okay.” all the negative emotions you were feeling are gone as you shrug.

“but i do need you for something. come here.” rafe beckons you over and you move quickly to the other side of the desk.

“what is it ya need?” you ask, quirking your head to the side.

“need some stress relief.” rafe grunts, adjusting the front of his pants from where he's painfully pressing against the zipper.

“okay, like a massage?” you question. you're not sure what the normal functions of an assistant to a ceo entails, but for how much you're getting paid, you're willing to do pretty much anything.

“yes, a massage.” rafe nods enthusiastically. “exactly. and i have one place that really needs to be massaged.”

“mmkay.” you nod, figuring it's his shoulders or something, when rafe tugs at his zipper and pulls his painfully hard cock out.

“oh my god!” you squeal, covering your face quickly, palms smacking against your cheeks.

“no, no.” rafe says calmly. “this is just part of the job, okay?”

“i… are you sure?”

“yes. now come give me a massage so i can get back to work.”

“okay…” you take a better look at his dick, hard and long with a decent size to it that makes you imagine something you definitely shouldn't about your boss. you shake the thoughts out of your head and grab your desk chair from the corner of the room and drag it towards rafe.

you sit down next to him, glancing again between his eyes and his exposed privates. rafe gives you an encouraging nod, and there's no way your boss would lie to you, right?

your hand reaches out to grasp rafes cock, swallowing thickly to ignore the urge to wrap your lips around it as you begin to stroke him.

“is that good?” you question.

“yeah, real good, just keep going.” rafe relaxes into his chair, plush and comfortable for the long hours he spends in the office, always arriving before you and leaving long after you've called it quits for the day.

you reach your other hand forward as well, working his length with both hands. you tug your lower lip between your teeth, focusing on his pleasure as you jack him off.

rafe keeps mostly quiet, just a slight increase in the noise of his exhales, but not quite yet a sigh. you leave one hand moving up and down his length and bring the other to the head of his cock, moving in teasing swirls before swiping the pad of your thumb right over his tip.

“oh, that's good.” rafe mutters, his eyes blinking hard to stay open, wanting to remember exactly what it's like to have you leaning forward, breasts almost spilling out as your hands work on his cock.

“anything for you boss.” you smile. you do love working for rafe. being his assistant is mostly just running errands for him, but even that doesn't take up enough of your time, so you end up online shopping and picking at your nails until 5pm hits.

“you are really good at massages.” rafe smirks, and you don't catch his implication. that you're experienced and not in literal massages.

“thanks.” you feel your cheeks blush, face heating. it's hard to get a compliment out of rafe. the nicest thing you think he's ever done is when you caught him staring at your ass as you walked away.

“keep doing that.” rafe says when you cup your hand over the head of his cock, rubbing your palm against his leaky tip.

“mmkay.” you hum again, your usual response to any of rafes demands. your other hand keeps stroking over his length, squeezing just tight enough to have rafes lower jaw dropping in pleasure.

you both jump when the phone begins to ring. rafe reaches over to quickly end the call when he sees who it is.

“stop, it's tokyo.” rafe whispers as your hands continue to move. even though you keep yourself out of the business side, you know how big of a deal the companies japanese partners are.

“answer it!” you squeal, but your hands continue to move.

rafe know he can't keep them waiting so he quickly accepts the call, trying to fix his voice while you stare at him, still stroking almost absentmindedly up and down his cock.

rafe answers the question the representative on the other end has as you drop one hand down to fondle his balls, squeezing your hand into the opening in his pants to touch them.

rafe pulls the phone receiver away from his mouth as he lets out a quiet curse, eyes pleading for you to stop, but you can't make yourself, and rafe certainly won't push your hands away when he's longed to have them on him for so long.

rafes voice is shaky as he answers questions, his cock pulsing in your hand, tip turning pink as you realize what is about to happen.

you look around for something to catch his cum as his cock pulses in your hand but you come up with nothing, so you drop your head and wrap your mouth around the head of his cock just as he begins to cum, sucking gently to empty him as you obediently swallow.

your hands fall away as you look up at rafe, lips locked around his cock. you give one final suck that has him gasping before covering it up with a cough before you pull off with a pop.

you don't even need to be asked as you tuck rafe back into his pants as he finishes up his call, tossing the phone down the second he says sayonara.

“shit.” rafe groans.

“is your stress relieved now?” you ask, somehow still looking the perfect mix of innocent and sluty even though your lipgloss is smeared from rafes cock.

“yeah.” rafe nods. “and next time i want a massage with your mouth.”

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sweetbans29 · 1 day

Text

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark concepts #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #wnba #wnba basketball

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theglamorousferal · 3 days

Text

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au Part 2

AO3 Prompt Part 1

(Things get a bit angsty here for a bit, but don't worry, it gets back to some of the cracky-goodness!)

After allowing himself to relax for a bit and actually letting his muscles loosen for once, Jason rose from the bath and rinsed himself off under a piping hot and strong shower. He finished the rinse off with a flash of cold water to focus back up and made his way to the vanity where there was basic hotel amenities. He attempted to style his hair and after at least drying it, pulled on the fluffiest robe he has felt since he first moved into the manor all those years ago.

Fuck. The family. The Outlaws...

Jason put his face in both his hands and took a deep breath, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he dragged his hands from his face to his sides. He marched in a lazy manor over to the end of the large bed where he flopped face down. Surprisingly, it wasn't as fluffy as he was expecting and he silently thanked whatever force there was that he wouldn't have to resort to sleeping on the floor or a chair for the familiarity. Though, he turned his head to face the windows, that little reading nook looks like I could easily fall asleep there.

No, stop it. Do I remember the Dimensional Code for home?

Jason contemplated. On one hand, it could be useful, on the other, they could have an entirely different category system here. He spent the next however long trying to remember the dimensional code for his Earth and tracing the swirls of purples and greens out the large windows. A knock startled him.

"Jason? Are you decent?" He stood quickly and pulled the robe tighter together, not quite ready to show his autopsy scars to his soul-owner? A literal goddess? He wasn't quite sure what she was yet.

"Uh, yes, come in, I'm covered." He tried to stand casually next to the bed when he had just been sitting, his hands now in his pockets.

"Hi, so one of my aides figured one thing out about the ritual that is somewhat concerning and also something I probably also should have brought up. Mind if we sit at the window?" She strode in and settled herself with a pillow against the window and waited for him to do the same. Once he was settled, she hesitated for a moment before sighing and looking out the window to the haunting site outside.

"The Infinite Realms has another name, one coined from my Earth." She licked her lips before she spoke again. "It's also known as the Ghost Zone. As the dimension between dimensions, it is also where beings known as ghosts, the Restless Dead, Neverborn, Gods, and all sorts of other beings that thrive off a substance known as ectoplasm reside. As such, I am current Queen Regent of Ghosts." She let him think for a moment before turning to him. "That means I can tell when someone is death-touched." Jason froze. "I didn't mention it before because I know it's super personal, but then my aide figured out that the ritual only worked because of the fact you are and especially since you had spent time here-" She cut herself off as his eyes just bugged out larger with every word that spilled from her lips. "Sorry, I just, I'm death-touched too. I haven't died yet, but I have been around death magic, or radiation, or whatever it is, since before conception. I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know it was deeply traumatic. I can have my healers take a look at your soul and see if it's alright because it kinda radiates a bit how traumatic it was." She bit her lip with one hand raised near her chin.

Jason closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw tight and blowing the air harshly out his nose. He fell back against the window, allowing his head to knock against the glass. It was warm, as though the sunlight was gently shining upon it. "Yeah." He croaked. "Yeah, I died." He said softer. "I was dead for roughly six months." He dipped his head forward to block his face with his bangs. "Crawled outta my own grave." He laughed bitterly. "Spent a while wandering, a while more in a coma." He swallowed tickly. "Got picked up by my dad's vindictive ex and trained for a while to be an assassin." He looked up at her, making eye contact. "She dunked me in this pit of magic shit, we call it a Lazarus pit in my dimension. It cures those near death and kills the healthy. Fixed me up the rest of the way, or at least the scars and issues I had pre-death. I got to keep these." He allowed the top of the robe to fall away, showing the tops of the large y-shaped scar that ran the length of his torso. She gasped, both hands coming to cover her mouth, tears began to form in her eyes. She reached out as if to touch them and stopped herself, her face turning determined.

"I, Jazmine Nightingale, High Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms, the Mediator, the Caretaker, and all those other titles." She waved her wrist. "Declare that I will help you however you deem necessary. Whether that be helping your soul, returning you to your dimension, breaking this binding, or whatever. You are currently bound to you, and as such that makes you my responsibilities." She paused in her speech for a moment, thinking. "I mean, you're already technically one of my subjects because I think you qualify as one of the Restless Dead, but we'll figure out your classification when we take you to a healer. For now, it has been a long day. I will have one of my aides come to get your measurements for some clothes, I'm sure we have some around here somewhere that should fit you at least for dinner. The aides can get any style you like and it can be made quickly by the seamstresses we have on staff." At his hesitation she added with a smile, "They work in supernatural means, they will not overwork themselves by making an entire wardrobe in a few hours."

She patted the cushion in front of her and stood. "I will meet you at dinner, it's not formal at all, don't worry about dressing fancy, I'm just still in this getup from 'official queen stuff'" she said with air quotes looking tired. "I'll see you in a bit Jason!"

"Yes, um, your majesty." He stood to bow, the robe making it a bit difficult."

"Just Jazz please, for the love of the Ancients." She said with a pained look on her face.

"Right, sorry," he stammered, straightening, "See you later, Jazz." She smiled softly before leaving him to himself. He smacked his hand to his face groaning at himself before flopping face-first into the bed again. "She's the ruler of the dead and she's so determined and nice, what the actual hell? She's so earnest, it's so cute!" he sat up leaning his elbow on his knee. "Okay, operation Romance Plot is go. She isn't put off by the fact you died, this is good, I can work with this. Okay, so castle, let's go with that aesthetic. I'm thinking let's go with a poet shirt and some black slacks for dinner tonight." He claps his hands in front of him, decision made.

As if summoned by his words, there was another knock at the door. A man with bright sky blue skin and a deep plum butler's uniform opened the door, a measuring tape casually thrown over his shoulders.

"Yes, hello good sir. What aesthetic are we thinking for this evening?" he said in a posh accent.

Jason clasped his hands together. "What should I call you? Would you possibly have a poet's shirt and a pair of black formal slacks for this evening?"

"You may call me Jeeves. Yes that Jeeves. I am the personification of the trope of the helpful butler, and as such my power set includes anything and everything that could help me complete the duties of head butler of the High Family's home. We absolutely do have that attire on hand, it would be but a moment for someone to fetch it for us. Now did you have any ideas about future attire?" Jeeves snapped his fingers and a skeleton manifested in a swirl of dust to obey his silent command to gather the requested clothing.

Jason paused for a moment, considering. "How does the Queen usually dress casually around the castle? I know she said she was from an Earth. I don't know where in the timeline her Earth is from and she mentioned that what she was wearing earlier was mostly for special occasions, so I don't want to look like an idiot." He explained.

"Very good sir, she typically dresses in either a less formal toga if she's to be seen anywhere near the public areas of the castle, her armor whilst sparring with her knights, the High Princes and Princess, and if she is only going between her room and study then her far less formal Earth clothing which is a long sleeved blouse and lightwash jeans, typical of the late 1990's and early 2000's."

Jason thought for a moment. He didn't know how long he would be stuck here, but decided that clothes enough to last a fortnight should work. For all he knew, time flowed differently between here and his home dimension. Decision made, he told the butler what he wanted. Measurements were taken, the skeleton arrived with the requested clothes and Jason was left to change into his clothes for the evening. He still is wearing his combat boots because he forgot to ask for a pair of shoes.

Once changed, he realized that he still probably had a bit before dinner and he walked over to one of the bookshelves browsing the titles. There were several classics that he recognized, his favorite, Pride and Prejudice, was there. There were a few as well with Jane Austen's name, but not titles he recognized. He decided to come back to those later and pulled what looked like a collection of fairy tales from the shelf then settled himself lounging in the window nook to read for the next few hours.

#dpxdc #fanfic #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #sacrificial bride au #get it jason #live out your romance novel dreams #I really want to do more #but it's almost midnight here #and I have work in the am

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romanoffsbish · 3 days

Text

My Tummy Hurts

WandaNat x Reader

Warnings: Injured R / Hospital

It was an easy mission, so why were you here? | WC: 2,245

"Hey guys," you greeted your lovers with a smile, or so you thought, but all they got was an odd grimace.

"Detka?" You truly smiled then, but no communal joy followed as you slurred and pointed, "that's me."

"What the fuck happened to Y/N?" Natasha turned to accuse the men stood behind you, still on the quinjet.

——

The men immediately flew into a panic, all saying the same thing—you were fine, albeit worded differently. Natasha was seconds away from wringing their necks but her focus shifted back to you, who was now pouting and gripping at your burning stomach. "Wands?"

Wanda smiled at you, "What's the matter honey?"

"My tummy hurts," you uncharacteristically whined, laughter normally would've bellowed from behind you, Tony never one to miss a chance to tease someone, but then you swayed into Natasha's prepared arms and Wanda was quick to levitate you three to the medbay.

—

"Appendicitis?!" You exasperated for the third time, "are you fucking kidding me?!" Wanda shook her head, eyes empathetic as she reached for your hand, in the meanwhile Natasha chuckled over a spoonful of your lime jello—traitor that she apparently was. "Get out."

This caught the Russian's attention, her eyes widened at the malice in your tone and she was scared shitless to have to leave your side. You didn't mean it, as you wanted them close, but she didn't need to know that.

Natasha plopped the half finished jello down and moved her chair even closer, her hand reached for your free one and her heart settled when you let her grab it. "I—," she started but you just shook your head and smiled softly, "just don't laugh at me again, capeesh?"

"Now," you moved right on, the disdain back in your tone, "I just got back from space after karate chopping a pile of goop," you stole your hands back and gave your lovers a show of what took place before. Natasha trying her damndest to keep her laughter in, "Fucking sick as shit but now I'm taken out by a useless organ?"

"Mhm," Wanda hummed in amusement, "Bruce ran some tests and thinks that the creature you 'karate chopped' released a toxin into your body that caused the upset in your stomach and ruined your day home."

"Home," you repeated, voice soft as you reached for both of their hands again, squeezing to really get across to your lovers the sentiment of how great the drugs were. Not that you weren't a softie, because you were indeed the softest of the three, just never this publicly.

Natasha and Wanda shared a bit of eye contact before the witch was gone, you pouted at her absence but it was short lived when the assassin pecked your lips. "She's going to get the doctor malyshka, get the all clear so we can take you upstairs." You grinned.

"Yeah," she chuckled, "we knew you'd love that."

—

When you came to next, not even remembering falling asleep again, you immediately recognized the room. It was just as you left it all those years back, just with a few new boxes of clutter Wanda held onto and stored in here, and you were also lying in a more sterile bed.

Just as you tried to sit up you felt a hand on your chest keeping you down. "Wait, I'll sit you up Agent Y/L/N."

A frown naturally overtook your face at the unfamiliar sight of a blonde woman in a white coat, but before you could even consider taking her up on an identity the door flew open and your girlfriends ushered her out.

"Wa—," before you could finish speaking a spoonful of bone broth was shoved into your mouth. Judging by the sunsetting in the sky you knew it was already the following day, which was admittedly slightly alarming. Yet your urge to inquire the time flew out the window as the bite of food kicked the hunger in your body up.

After scarfing down the bowl you begged for more, but not of the soup. “Y/N no, I am not feeding you ice—.”

“I am dying,” you dramatized, “I need a pint to live!”

Wanda was about to admonish you for all the begging and humoring of death, but then she caught sight of your pouting lip and wet eyes, so of course she melted. Natasha rolled her eyes at your antics before she knowingly slipped out of the room to collect the first outlandish request of many, she could only assume.

When she returned the atmosphere was calmer, you were telling Wanda, who was sat at your bedside with a full smile, about the moments leading up to the fight.

“Tony, resident idiot that he is, caused the power in the entire city to go out for the sake of his suit mods, which made our attempts until then to stay hidden wasted.”

“Sounds about par for the course,” Nat teased her way into the conversation and you looked to her with a brighter smile at the sight of the ben and jerry pint.

The women took turns replying to you and spooning the ice cream into your mouth. You talked with a full mouth but Wanda let it go each time, a bit too relieved to still have you here for her to deem it worth scolding.

It wasn’t until the witch could see, in your eyes, just how tired you were that she decided to stop letting it all slide. It was sweet the way you tried to stay awake just to talk to them, but once the woman set the empty container down and wiped your lips clean she was inconspicuously putting you to sleep. Her words of reply faded into hums as she mindlessly traced her fingers over the exposed skin of your arms until your words aimed at Natasha faded out and became a snore.

—

The pair had left you sleeping in your hospice bed about an hour ago, it was hard to convince the Dr on duty to let you leave the ward after surgery but Tony's check book came out and now the woman is settled in a room across the hall for the night. Unnervingly.

The woman watched you sleep for about ten minutes after having administered your medicine and feeding you a pint of ice cream, much to your delight, Wanda's dismay and Natasha's envy. They'd made sure Friday locked you in before they headed down to eat dinner.

The natural redhead huffed, again, as she pushed the mushy green beans around her plate, ignoring the red tinted look of agitation Wanda sent her way. "Bros'."

(knock it off / quit)

"Nyet," the redhead grumbled over a bite of potatoes.

"She needs her rest," Wanda decidedly empathized.

"I missed her," the redhead sighed, "we were going to finish the bannister garden and cuddle under stars."

The witch felt a similar ache, that mission you were on took an entire month, you were fine too, but no longer. Wanda moved her chair closer, leaning her head on the redheads shoulder, dainty fingers wrapped around a muscular bicep, both woman shivered. For a moment the silence was peaceful, but then the witch sighed, "She was going to help me plant in said garden."

Natasha took a big bite of her steak and got lost in thought about how you somehow perfectly fit into their dynamic. You build things and spar with her, then go garden while discussing your latest read with Wanda. Like Nat, you can't cook but like Wanda you can bake.

"Our multifaceted, badass girlfriend," Wanda coo'd seconds later and Natasha snorted, "taken out by an appendix." Wanda shoved her shoulder but chuckled alongside her as they both silently regarded you with a different fondness. Natasha loved your goofy side.

The first time she'd met you was the worst day of her free life, Wanda was off on a dangerous mission and communications had been lost in the worst of it. You were her only hope as you worked tirelessly to get her back online. Her hands were shaking against her will, so she had to guide you, shields top agent, instead.

They called you her shadow, it was rumored around the base that you studied her fighting and mirrored her in not only strength but intellect. Unfortunately for you that meant being woken up only hours after returning from your own tumultuous mission. To meet your idol and crush while drooling into your pillow wasn't exactly pleasant, nor ideal when you're doing it to reconnect her with her girlfriend, it hurt.

Yet you persevered on through the awkward moments of silence and smiled when the comms cracked to life.

"Agent Romanoff, the comms are—."

"Natasha?" Wanda coughed and the redhead laughed emotionally, you were alarmed to see the Black Widow cry but it was endearing above all else. "Detka, I am so happy to hear your voice—fuck, I-I love you Wanda Maximoff, moya krasivaya detka."

Judging by the gasp on the other end you realized you were trapped in an intimate moment with them. It was beautiful and unfairly gut wrenching all at once. Soon enough it was Wanda's turn to cry out, "I love you too Natasha Romanoff; more than anything."

It was sweet, intimate, and then you sneezed. Glaring green eyes found yours and you could only shrug. "You kidnapped me from my bed, brought me to a room layered thickly in dust and didn't consider this."

"Natasha, what's going on?" The redhead smirked at you and whispered, "Wanda, meet Y/N, my stalker."

Your eyes widened at the lightweight true call out but kept your cool all the same. "You kidnapped me."

"You're free to go agent," she softly called out, it was a bit of a shock to see her this way when her reputation held a different tone. Just as you went to walk by she grabbed your arm, grip soft as she squeezed. Your attention shifted up and she smiled. "Thank you."

"Anytime," you shrugged it off nonchalantly but she knew you meant it sincerely. Just as you were almost out the door you turned and teased. "Thank me with an invitation to the wedding. I've experienced a Wanda party in full effect; I'll have the salmon."

Wanda appreciated your softer side the most.

One time, just before they asked you to be theirs, when you thought no one was watching, you had an entire conversation with their cat, Liho. Scratching his chin, feeling the purr of his gratitude on your fingertips as you animatedly discussed your day aloud with him.

"Natty and Wands are so considerate," you sighed dreamily, "and sweet—I woke up to breakfast and lunch made for me as if they weren't really busy."

You paused, hand reaching out to scoop the teetering feline up so he could sleep as you spoke a bit softer, "Then they both gave me a hug in greeting and I nearly couldn't breathe because of just how stunning they both are, no makeup and in their matching pjs."

The way you spoke made Wanda smile, her heart nearly leapt from her chest at your pure adoration.

An adorable groan fell from your lips before you shamelessly concluded, "you're the luckiest kitty on earth, with the unobtainable milfs of my dreams."

Wanda walked away with a pep in her step as she went to seek Natasha out with the good news. When the elevator dinged you released a breath shortly after, hoping now that they'd make a move as you pet their cat that would soon adopt you as his favorite.

Truth be told, everyone in the room favorited you.

—

A smile took over your face as you heard your lovers laughing through the vents of your old room back from when you were single but shared a floor with them. It was endearing, hearing the warmth and deepness of their well established connection still burning bright.

It took you awhile to feel welcome in their dynamic, even with the invitation; what really helped you along the way was the sneaky moments like these. Where they thought they were quietly simping over you but you caught the whispered words and sweetest giggles.

Hearing it then helped you to regard them as safe, because they were talking out their complex feelings. How they felt about the other having these feelings, neither was offended by the other and it shocked you. Their flattery was not lost on you with their willingness to even risk the beautiful thing they already had going.

Then to hear it now, and have it solidified that even in moments of upset they'd find a way back to that same peace within seconds—they're safe, and you are loved.

Something you knew well, and felt as they gave up on sleeping without you that night—against that doctors orders of course; when you swiftly looked up from your book the women were stood at the door with sheepish smiles. None of you spoke, all very much aware of the state of codependence that exists within your dynamic.

Natasha yawned dramatically and Wanda huffed before she snapped her fingers. Soon two cots were beside your bed once the red mist had cleared, all wires adjusted accordingly before they laid down, took your book and covered up, then slid a hand each into yours.

"Goodnight," you yawned, "I love and missed you too."

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ghostyclay · 2 days

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[Day 30]: TANUKI JOEL TANUKI JOEL TANUKI JOEL-

(Whenever i export animations, procreate sometimes messes up the colors a bit? It looks fine on my ipad, but the animation is desaturated on my phone, so here's what it should look like:)

Anyways, i thought it would be funny to draw Joel summoning Effo, inspired by Grian & Scar summoning mumbo during season 8. It turned out even sillier than i thought it would and i absolutely love it wkdhwjd

(explanation of the animation + sketch of the tail below!)

Also wanted to show off the sketch since it shows off the movement a lot better! I did end up changing a LOT (and even ended up adding some frames where i did lineart w/o a sketch inbetween... Oop-) but u can still kind of see the drag and offset?

So basically: since the tail isn't a stiff object like... A table or sth, it has multiple 'joints' (<-don't remember the proper term for it). Now, if u animated the tail just moving back and forth it would look v v stiff and wierd, since irl the tip of the tail would be "dragged along" with the bottom (<-aka the ACTUAL joint that the movement originates from). To create a more organic and realistic movement, you need to slightly delay the other parts of the tail. I usually use those lil circles to sketch this out at first, since its a lot easier to do without having to worry about shape and perspective and such.

(in theory i know wayyy too much about animation, but in practice im still struggling to do it bc i don't have much experience animating ekfhakdj- i do know the theory p well, which is why im hoping his lil explanation might help someone! Let me know if u guys want me to include some art theory lessons more often :D)

#HERMITCRAFT / TRAFFIC ART REQUESTS OPEN!!!#hermitblr #hermitaday #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanart #clart #fanart #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #smallishbeans fanart #joel fanart #animation #boat boys #smalletho #<-i dont ship them but imma still tagg it cause idc how u interpret this so #ghostys favs

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joonsytip · 2 days

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Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 2

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: NSFW, virgin reader, cunnilingus, consensual and penetrative sex, couple uses protection (you do too), mentions of past accident, workplace politics allusions, mentions of getting stalked and periods.

Word Count: 6.1k

Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI!

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2

It's been half an hour since your arrival to the party and the lack of interaction between you and Mingyu starts to raise some brows.

Mingyu stays rooted to the same place, his eyes fixated on you as he realises that it was wrong of him to totally wring you out and knowing your temperament he's not brave enough yet to place himself in the periphery of your vision.

"The marriage is really a sham, afterall."

Mingyu scoffs, not bothering to look at the source of the voice.

Kim Hanjun has been demoted under the obvious reason of underperforming and it's boiling his blood having to work under Mingyu because being a man with connections and boasting about it openly would have eventually come to bite him back given he's not even good at his job.

"Your wife isn't even interested in you it seems."

Fisting his hands, Mingyu decides to mute out his words.

"Oh so you're not gonna speak because you might accidentally spill something?"

But there's a limit to how much one can endure. Even though he has the patience of a saint, Mingyu just can't tolerate this obnoxious colleague of him.

Just as he opens his mouth to retort, he feels a hand circling his arm. It's you.

"You must be Kim Hanjun?", you say with a poker face, "You're quite the infamous one around here."

Both the men are caught off-guard by your presence.

"Now if you could excuse us.", your grip tightens on your husband, "I have some making up to do, as you can see husband's upset is at me for not spanning attention to him."

Hanjun is rendered speechless when you step forward and say in a dangerously low tone, "If I see you pestering my husband one more time, you might not find your company ID working while swiping."

The man is suddenly sweating and you cross over your arms with a smirk, "I usually don't interfere but sorry to break it to you, if we come down to this, I'd like you to always remember what position my uncle holds in the company. You're not the only one who can exert connections."

Mingyu looks at you in awe. He wants to record this on his phone so that he could watch this again and again. His wife is standing up for him and that's the absolute hottest you've looked.

Once Hanjun leaves, you also turn on your heels to do so but Mingyu doesn't let you.

"I'm tired.", you say turning to look at him, hand trying to scuffle out of his strong grip, "I'm leaving."

"We're leaving.", Mingyu says leading the way, hands still held together.

While it's a sight for others to finally see the couple, might be romantic to some as well by the way Mingyu is not letting go of you but you know the truth so does your husband.

The car ride back home is silent because halfway neither of you speak and for the rest of the path, you somehow fall asleep.

You wake up in Mingyu's arm as he carries you to the bedroom.

"Let me down.", you say tiredly.

But your husband only sets you down on the bed and once he does he starts spilling the apologies.

"I was mad at you and thought you won't come if I asked you.", he says lowering his gaze, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay.", you say not meeting his gaze either and fumbling your fingers, "You should tell me if any of my behaviour has hurt or is bothering you. I can't read minds, Mingyu."

There's a pang in his chest as guilt consumes him. His mind lingers back on how he had been ignoring you for the past few days. And now that he looks at you, he realises the chronic tiredness ghosting over your features.

"Now if you could please move so that I can get changed.", you say, hands gesturing the way out.

Mingyu swears he hasn't had a drop of alcohol present in his body at the moment so why is he all of a sudden, seeing and feeling things differently?

Why are you glowing in the poorly lit room? Since when did you have such deep beautiful pair of eyes? How are your lips looking so luscious?

Mingyu loosens the tie round his neck, clearing his throat. As he has been crouching, he stands up and sides himself so that you would get out of sight because somehow though it's chilly but by doing absolutely nothing you've managed to heat him up.

You walk upto the closet and after searching for a while you turn around to look at your husband.

"Can I wear something of yours?", you ask, leaning against the door, "I think all of my comfortable nightwears have ended up in the laundry."

The man chokes, he wonders if the stars are plotting against him tonight. He settles with a subtle nod, looking everywhere but at you.

You mumble a thanks and grab the first thing that looks comfortable, going into the bathroom to change.

Mingyu rushes out of the room grabbing a pair of clothes and proceeds to wash himself in the guest bathroom just to cool off. He watches his red tinted cheeks in the dazed vision in the mirror, notices his heavy breaths and eyes down to the semi grown tent in his pants.

Something's wrong with him. He can't comprehend his state. His mind lingers back to the moments when you were defending him against Hanjun. His heart beats erratically when he remembers the accidental view of your cleavage through the dress when he was carrying you inside. The slit of your dress wasn't helpful at all as he could see your trained thighs on display everytime you moved. And your long manicured nails, he's sure that they would look beautiful running through his nape and back.

Mingyu slaps himself twice on both the cheeks, he takes a cold shower.

But he's just a man afterall, so when sees you standing in front of the dressing table in his shirt and shorts he breath hitches and he gasps. Loud enough to catch your attention. As you look at him, he looks at your collarbones peaking out because his shirt is too loose on you.

And before you could say anything he's already laying on the bed hurriedly facing away, pulling over the covers to hide the re-emerging boner.

You follow his actions, laying beside him but facing his back. You wonder if you should sleep at the guestroom because your husband is still mad at you. And his actions are clearly saying so as the person who can't sleep without hugging is maintaining the distance, not bothering to even face you, like he has been doing for the past days.

With a heavy sigh, you tell him, "I'll sleep in the guestroom. We can talk when you feel like you can bear to look at me again."

Just as you turn on your back to get up, you're being held back and within a span of seconds your husband is hovering on top of you.

"I'm sorry, I can't control myself anymore."

And admitting that he crashes his lips onto yours. You gasp grabbing his arms before sighing into the kiss. Mingyu sucks onto your lips pacing them slower now. His hand roams up to rest on your neck, gently rubbing along the column, the sensation of his touch eliciting another gasp out of you.

His tongue enters your mouth and it's lewd in the way they slotting perfectly on each other. His mouth descends to press kisses on your chin and collarbones.

The one time he detaches his mouth off you to unbotton your (his) shirt, you're tapping on his forearm. His gaze follows your hands which are now covering your eyes.

There's a bit of silence. Mingyu wonders if he's forcing himself on you, without your consent and with the thought just as he prepares himself to get off, you say something that wracks his head.

"This will be my first time. I've never been touched before.", you say shakily, evidently embarassed enough to not uncover your eyes until Mingyu does so.

Though Mingyu has his mind too clouded to be pondering over anything but the first question he asks with those eyes now turned soft, after urging you to look at him is, "Do you want to do this? Is it okay for me to proceed? Tell me if you want me to stop."

"Please don't stop.", you breathe out immediately averting your gaze which causes you to miss the smile your husband directs at you before placing his hand under your head to raise it swiftly to kiss you.

"I'll make it worth, Y/N. I'll make you feel good.", he whispers in between the kisses.

You lay naked, all bared out under him as after spanning enough attention to your boobs, Mingyu shifts all his focus on your wet, leaking core.

"Gonna prep you first", he says in his husky voice, "and let me know if you want me to stop."

His tongue laps a long stripe against your cunt and you grip the sheet underneath desperately to hold onto. He keeps tonguing your cunt, holding your legs apart as they try to close off, his nose bumping against your clit making it impossible to hold your moans anymore.

You are squirming under the mercy of yoYir husband and his tongue. There's a knot tightening in the pit of your stomach and you could do nothing, not even speak out any coherent sentences.

"Cum for me, Y/N.", Mingyu urges you and that's the push you need before pouring out the juices all over his face. You're catching breathes when sensitivity hits you as your husband licks you clean off the juices.

You are biting down on your arm when Mingyu decides to prep you a bit further by scissoring his long fingers in your hole until it's oozing out for the second time.

Mingyu presses a soft kiss on your forehead before scurrying away for a few seconds and coming back holding a bunch of condoms in his hands.

"You had those?", you ask propping yourself on your elbows, genuinely amused.

Mingyu cocks his brow, "Not sure who it was but one of the guys has kept them in the drawer at one of the times they visited."

He climbs on the bed, straddling over you as he tears the wrapper with his teeth and rolls up a couple of condoms up his girth, "I didn't even know until all of them sent the same picture in the group chat."

You nod in silence, looking at his big veiny cock and it's red tip that's leaking precum, wondering if it's gonna even fit inside of you.

Mingyu hovers over you, pressing another soft kiss on your forehead.

"It's gonna hurt a bit at start but it's gonna feel good, okay?"

You nod again letting Mingyu hold your hands over your head, intertwining the fingers. He slowly pushes his length and sensing your ragged breathing he stills for sometime before continuing until he hilts all the way inside.

Tears roll down, as you try to adjust and your husband does nothing but kiss you softly trying to soothe you, divert your mind from the pain.

"Let me know when you want me to move."

He waits patiently and once you ask him to move, he thrusts ever so slowly, his lips never leaving yours.

"Gyu, faster please.", you say breaking the kiss.

And who is your husband to deny your wishes. He picks up his pace steadily thrusting in and out, as both of your moans fill the room.

Mingyu fiddles with your nipples by taking them into his mouth while his fingers rub your clit at a fast pace.

You're too dumbified by the way your body is reacting. Your legs are shaking, your stomach is pitting a knot again, your hands are gripping onto your husband for dear life and you swear you're seeing stars.

"Y/N?", Mingyu calls you out, seeing your dazed vision, "Are you okay?"

Your reply comes as another moan as your nails dig crescent shapes onto his back deeper, running through the back of his neck, grabbing onto the hair on the nape.

"Can you hold on for a bit more?", he coaxes you once he realises your gummy walls are clenching harder around his cock, "Let's cum together, can you do that for me right?"

Mingyu looks at the juncture where the bodies are meeting, where your cunt is swallowing him wholly. He groans at the sight of white foamy ring around his cock and kisses you hard making you squeak into his mouth.

"Let it go, Y/N.", he encourages you, his calloused fingers now rubbing your sides as his thrusts turn sloppy, "Cum for me."

Both of you are catching breathes. You lay eyes closed, not feeling your body at all. Mingyu lies looking at you, admiration laced in his eyes, his heart doing dibs thinking about how you trusted him enough to give your firsts to him. He realises that unlike him, you're not vocal so he has to focus on your body language to understand your needs. He also makes his mind to have a conversation with you like a descent person in the morning but before that--

"You need to pee.", he tells discarding the condom in the bin and while you groan he continues, "And we need to wash up. I'll run the bath, clean us up and change the sheets so please don't fall asleep till then."

You are incapable of registering his words so you just let him do whatever he wants to do with you.

Late in the morning, the conversation gets shelved until evening because Mingyu fucks you again because he is insatiable and so are you. Well, you both end up being each other's breakfast in bed.

It's the day, you dread the most. It was the same day sixteen years ago when you lost your family. It's your birthday.

If only you hadn't thrown a tantrum about not wanting to celebrate the day at home as it had been done for all the years. Birthdays had always been a great deal to you. You wanted the celebration to be a bit grander which led all to unanimously decide to go the soaring picnic spot, inviting all your friends as well. Uncle being your favourite person, the rest of the family drove the to venue as it was an hour drive away a little earlier to set up things while you and your uncle drove in a van along with all your friends.

But instead of the picnic spot, you ended up in the hospital with your uncle identifying the bodies. The collision of two vehicles were severe enough to claim the lives of all present in them.

Though your uncle had never expressed anything as such but you know you are to blame for everything. You wondered if seeing you was even bearable to him. The guilt and regret changed you whole as a person. After the incident you distanced yourself from everything, everyone.

Birthdays mean nothing to you now. Unlike for other workers, no one receives your birthday mail as you have requested to the officials. No one knows, no one asks, no one cares and that's perfect for you.

It's been a long day, with you driving successive review and checkpoint meetings. One of the rare days where you want nothing but to fall to the comfort of your bed.

Just as you enter the house, you see a string a shoes lined one after another. You enter the hallway and come across the faces of your in-laws, your husband, his friends and your uncle.

Gatherings on any other day is always welcomed but not today. You have this look of disapproval on your face and the entire flock of people freeze. Without a word, you disappear into your room and it's about half an hour when you don't come out, Mingyu assures everyone and goes into the room.

"What are they doing here?", you ask as soon as he enters.

"Why? Are they not allowed to visit us?"

You glare at him, "They are. But why today? And you always inform me beforehand if anyone is coming so why's there an exception today?"

Mingyu sighs but walks upto you, "Y/N, they're just here to spend sometime with us. But if you want then I'll tell them to leave and trust me they'll leave instantly."

"Tell them to leave then. I don't want to entertain anyone today.", you say stoicly.

Mingyu nods, "All of them have brought something they've cooked for you. Hansol cooks occasionally and almost burnt his house but he came in so proud, bragging how he was able to cook something for you that's edible. And oh", he raises his finger plastered with a bandaid, "I've got a cut while chopping the vegetables. So are you gonna atleast eat them or should I tell them to take those back as well?"

There's a pang in your heart, it's constricts within your chest. Your eyes glistens with tears, the resolute within you starts to dissolve but you could never afford to do so. You don't deserve to be celebrated.

"It's the death anniversary of the people I love.", you say helplessly, "I don't remember them vividly, each year the memories of them are fading away. I can't bear to look at uncle without feeling guilty. He lost his son, his wife, his brother all because I wanted to celebrate a stupid birthday."

You are sobbing now and Mingyu holds you in his arms, letting his own tears fall. He hates that there's nothing he could provide to soothe you.

"There are so many words on the tip of my tongue but they're all meaningless.", he says and bites on his tongue to stop those tears from spilling, "I'm sorry but I won't let you wallow in sadness, I won't leave you all by yourself."

After staying quiet in his embrace, you tell him, "People are waiting for you, you should go. I'll be fine, I'm used to this."

Mingyu pulls away and holds your face gently, "Do you trust me?"

Your eyes say a lot, even if you hadn't given a nod, your husband would've known the answer.

"Then let's go and spend time with them.", Mingyu coaxes you, "They wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, if they do, I'll send them back."

You ponder over for sometime. Past years have always been the same, you wanting the day to pass by anyhow. You've preferred to be alone but you think you'd make an exception for your husband and all those people who are waiting for you outside knowing they genuinely care for you.

When you both step out of the room, you could see the worried faces and it makes you feel bad.

"We're are really sorry for barging in.", Seokmin breaks the silence as he stands up and following his suite everyone does so well, "We'll get going."

And there's a lot of shuffling. Everyone is off their seats and packing the stuffs when you decide to interrupt.

"I'm hungry", you say everyone halt, "And I'm bored of eating his cooking.", you point at your husband who gasp in offence but smiles nonetheless.

And that's how the dinner table was set with everyone sitting together eating and chatting happily. No one wishes you birthday, none of them have bought you gifts and it does seem like another normal gathering except for the subtle wishes of wellbeing they launch softly at you.

"You are beautiful, Y/N, inside out.", Minhee says as she secures the seat beside you, "I hope to see you healthy and beautiful always."

Sometime later, when the topic of work is brought up, Soonyoung slickly tells, "Y/N is handling such a big project.", and looking at you he speaks with a mouthful, "I know it'll be a huge success. Hope we get to see you achieve many more milestones in your career."

And throughout the dinner you recieve such praises and wishes from every single one of them. You didn't want to send them off but you had to with a heavy heart. First time, in several years you feel like you have a family, you want to hold onto people, want to expect certain things and be a part of them.

First time in several years, your birthday didn't haunt you rather it gave you a reason to smile.

Lying the bed, tired after a long day when you feel an arm drape around your waist, you turn to face your husband, snuggling closer in the comfort of his embrace when he opens his arms for you.

His eyes droop in sleepiness but he strokes your hair saying, "I wish you to be happy.", smiling sheepishly he adds, "Thanks for trusting me."

And when you watch your husband drift off to sleep, stroking his hair with a hesitant hand, you whisper, "Thanks for tolerating me."

Your relationship with Mingyu progresses steady but it's beautiful in it's own way. To you, Mingyu hasn't only been a good husband, he has been a great companion. He takes care of you, knows your limits and shortcomings, never makes you feel weirded out and makes sure to sort things out to be on the same page.

Your calendar previously which had only meeting dates marked on them are now filled with many more events such as your anniversary, Mingyu's birthday, Minhee's birthday, your uncle's birthday, your in-laws' anniversary etc etc. A smile appears on your face when you reminisce how late you were to your second anniversary party and how pissed Mingyu was at you, avoiding you the whole night until after the party was over and you had stripped yourself naked in front of him which worked to dissolve his anger as you let him fuck you dumb till the dawn.

You have a best friend now and her name is Minhee. You've always liked her and over the years you two have grown closer. Mingyu's friends, well more of yours, are not scared of you anymore, they've dropped all the formalities to pit long ago.

Junhui shares every funny thing he sees on the internet, on appointment days he rants to you about patients and work. Soonyoung now shares table with you during lunch and eat your ears off. Seokmin calls you randomly during work and if you don't pick up, he just sends you a candid picture of your husband with a caption 'thought you'd be missing him, so here's your husband. Don't thank me, just name one of your gaming character after me.'

Hansol is the most random of all, he just pings you any fact he learned out of the blue without any context. Sometimes when on asking when you confirm that you're free he sends you a bunch of pics telling you to choose the best among the lot. Jeonghan is the quietest among all, he'd only talk to you during the gatherings.

You have started calling Mingyu's parents as what Mingyu calls them because you are comfortable to call them so. They've blended into your life making you feel as their own. These changes in your life have helped you bond better with your uncle as well.

It's been over two years and you think you're happy. You think your married life is perfect and you're in love with certain things.

You love the back hugs, love those forehead kisses, love the smell of coffee that hits the house in the morning, love the way his mouth opens and closes in sleep, love when the fangs graze his lips as he smiles wide, love when his hand sneaks to wrap around yours on a busy road.

You're in love.

In love with your husband because how could you not, he's so easy to love. Though you feel there's still a lot you both need to discover about each other, you hope he'd also love you one day. He's your first love after all.

You are in the middle of a meeting when your phone keeps vibrating continuously. Trying to ignore it, your brows knit in agitation but that soon turns into worry when you check the caller ID. It's Minhee. Excusing yourself, you call her back.

And now after a drive of an hour you find yourself in front of the park, near her apartment.

"It's okay, I'm here now.", you say patting on Minhee's back, "Once you feel better, tell me everything."

And after some moments Minhee does relay everything. There's a thug-like guy who has started visiting the café she regulars at because somehow Minhee has piqued his interest. Even though she didn't notice at first, it started to strike her that she has been seeing a face almost everywhere she visits.

He has been following her to and back from the school she teaches in. He's been bold enough to get in the way and ask her to sleep with him for a night, if she wants to stop getting bothered by him.

Minhee has had enough to slap him straight across his face, even threatening to report him to the police. And that seemed to work because he didn't appear before her for a whole week until today.

As she describes it terrified, he had an ominous gaze, when he had given her an ultimatum to be compliant or be ready for the worse.

"I was so shocked and scared. I could only think about calling you. If Gyu knows about this he'd kill that guy even before police knows about him and would never let me work here. I don't want that.", Minhee says, "I am planning to go to the police today."

"You're so brave", you tell her as your gaze sweeps across the surrounding, "Let's deal with that guy now. Is it that guy standing over there?"

And Minhee now ponders over if it would have been safer to call her brother because the stalker guy, all bruised from the beating he got from you is kneeling in front of you both with hands up in air.

You've called the police and as soon as they arrive, that guy is mumbling confessions of all the harassment he did and tried to perform on Minhee.

"Did I tell you, I'm trained in taekwondo?", you ask her frowning, "Uncle also made me take specialization classes on self defence.", you suddenly hiss because of the bruises inflicted on you during the hassle and look at her.

Minhee engulfs you in a hug, "Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver."

Your lips curl up and you say pulling away, "Let's go to the station and complete the formalities and then we'll have to inform Mingyu and mom & dad as well."

Minhee hesitates but she knows she'll eventually have to so.

"Let's do that.", she agrees, "I have something else to tell you."

Your brows quirk up questioning as you both head towards your car.

"I have developed a liking towards Soonyoung.", she smiles looking at your flabbergasted demeanor, "No ones knows except you and him."

You swear, your head spins at this.

And as if she could read your mind, she adds, "I don't know how he feels but he said he'd never date me because I'm his friend's sister and that's against bro code."

You scoff, how typical of Soonyoung.

When Mingyu stumbles upon his sister's apartment that night, he finds her sleeping peacefully in her room. And when he goes searching for you, he finds you in the bathroom clutching the slab. Your eyes are red, forehead glistening with sweat.

"Oh god, Y/N...", Mingyu rushes inside as the door was open and holds you up on your feet, "what happened?"

"Stop shouting, you'll wake her up.", you say groaning, "and why do you care anyways?"

Right, you both rarely fought but when you did it would go on for days, like now. It started with a simple matter but escalated real quick causing Mingyu to lash out on you and give you a silent treatment. You tried to talk to him twice, which was more than you think you have done but were met with radio silence. He went as far as being petty enough to not even wait for you at dinner table or sleep facing you. And that's how you decided to shut him out as well. It's been a week since you both talked.

As Mingyu holds your waist to support you, you cry out in pain. You tried to resist but when he glares at you, you give up. He unbottons your top and his eyes almost gauze out on seeing the cut on your waist.

"How did it happen?", he sits you on the counter and pulls out the first aid box.

You stay quiet.

"Y/N, I'm asking something.", he uses an authoritative tone, looking at you.

"I thought we are not talking.", you snark at him but gasp when he dabs the cotton with antiseptic gel on the cut. He does several other sorts of things which makes you think he's a trained nurse before pasting the adhesive.

"Y/N, please.", he gets up and holds your face, "I know I have been an asshole and I'll keep apologizing to you until you forgive me. But please tell me are you hurt anywhere else? Did that bastard do this to you?"

You sigh and peel his hands off your face, "Yes, he was swinging his knife at me so while tackling him, I got that wound. And I got some bruises but Minhee treated those, didn't want to worry her so hid this one. You should be worried about Minhee. I'm fine."

Mingyu looks at you with so much admiration. His heart swells within his chest when he thinks about how you saved his sister and handled the situation well while he was being a jerk to you.

"The first thing Minhee asked on calling me was how did I manage to marry someone as amazing as you. That I should have seen you, you were looking like a superhero fighting off the evil.", he smiles pinching the bridge of your nose.

You bite your lower lip, your brows crease and Mingyu instantly deflates noticing the obvious signs.

"Are you on your periods?", he asks concerned.

"The cramps are killing me."

"You should have told me sooner.", he immediately lifts you up and takes you to the guestroom and lays you on the bed, "I think I know what all things Minhee uses for her cramps and where they are kept. I'll be back."

"I was supposed to sleep with Minhee tonight.", you say frowning.

"No, you're sleeping with me", he smiles, crouching to peck your forehead, "Minhee rotates around the bed all night in sleep. Doesn't matter though, I won't be letting you out of my sight."

And while he spends the whole night making sure you get a good sleep, in the morning he makes you apply for sick leave. He scolds Minhee for not calling him sooner as it could have been dangerous for you both but in turn gets scolded by you.

He doesn't take his car, rather drives your car back home because you were scheming on sending him away first, not wanting to go with him. He sulks throughout the way back because when he leans in to you, in the guise of helping you putting on the seatbelt just to give a kiss, you slap a hand over his mouth. But that doesn't stop him from not letting you go to your office room the whole day and spend the time in taking rest.

It's an important day for you. It's a success party of the new game launch and playing the key role in leading back to back projects you're going to get felicitated at the party by the director herself.

You have informed Mingyu beforehand and he has promised to reach the venue before time, also squealing for days on about how he'd capture everything and show others, that how proud he is of his wife.

Your eyes boringly scan through the crowd, waiting for your husband.

"How am I looking?", Soonyoung's voice startles you.

As he takes a seat beside you, you tell him, "As usual. Are you supposed to not look like a human but something else?"

He scowls, "Wow, you're really doing this to me."

He brings over a glass of wine from the waiter who was passing and says, "I heard there have been some changes in the management and they'll be announcing it today."

You take a candy from the bowl kept on the table, "I'll be reporting to someone who has joined the company recently. My previous boss is gonna take over the strategy planning unit."

Soonyoung laughs, "There are rumours about him being eccentric."

"Let him be anything, I don't care as long as it doesn't hinder my work.", you tell him, eating the candy and checking your phone, "They're gonna start soon. Any idea when your dear friend is gonna arrive?"

"He was supposed to leave from work early", he tells you, "Don't worry he's punctual."

Mingyu curses when he checks the time. He's late.

"Min, I think you should leave as soon as possible.", Seokmin says as he helps him pack his bag, "You'll go home, get changed and then leave for the venue, right? You're running late by almost an hour already."

Mingyu is hot on his heels as he hurriedly takes his bag and rushes out of his cabin.

"Be careful!", Seokmin yells seeing Mingyu's fleeting demeanor, knowing how clumsy he can be and as he takes the keys to lock the cabin as requested by his friend his gaze falls on the USB drive which he knows Mingyu would need to work on some presentation.

Seokmin rushes to catch him so that he can give him the USB just in time. As he punches out his employee card, he sighs in relief as he recognises Mingyu standing still just outside the main door.

He pushes through the door and is just about to call him, something catches his eyes from the periphery of vision.

Just like Mingyu, Seokmin freezes on spot.

Because it is Sora who's standing in front of them.

Seokmin doesn't know what or if they had any conversation prior to his arrival but he grabs Mingyu's arm when he sees Sora open her car door and his friend heading in the se direction.

"Min, don't go.", he speaks the next part in louder tone, "your wife is waiting for you."

"I know what I'm doing, Min.", Mingyu frees his arm, "Trust me on this."

Seokmin watches helplessly as the car drives off to who knows where.

You are dejected. Even when recieving the award your eyes kept scanning the crowd just in hopes of seeing your husband's face. And still now doing so you keep on checking your phone, too upset to call or text him.

"I'll call him after they make the announcement.", Soonyoung says equally upset, "I'm sure something really urgent came up otherwise he'd have not missed it."

Everyone is asked to stand near the stage where they announce the key changes in management.

You are shocked when you hear a certain name being announced, see a certain figure taking the centre of the stage.

Xu Minghao is going to be your boss tomorrow onwards.

Minghao seems to have taken notice of you as his smile widens, his gaze locking on you.

Soonyoung has noticed the change in your demeanor, has followed the gaze of Minghao. He observes quietly before motioning you to come with him to a quieter place.

He then calls Mingyu putting his phone on speaker who doesn't pick up. There's an uneasy feeling settling at your chest and hope that your husband is fine wherever he is.

Soonyoung then calls Seokmin and regrets putting the phone on speaker because you hear what he says.

"Mingyu left with Sora and I can't reach him."

Your heart sinks because even though no one has ever talked to you about her, you know that name very well. Your husband's ex girlfriend whom he to marry.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Both you and Soonyoong turn to see Minghao standing, his gentle gaze bestowing upon you.

You decide to forget any other thoughts and wear a tight lipped smile, "Been a long time, Hao."

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