notes: just silly fluff, xavier is codependent, zayne is #stressed, rafayel is #indistress, sylus is offended, and caleb is kinda normal but jealous (who is surprised), no explicit mentions of gender (!!!), that’s it (i think)
p.s. dark mode again yayyyyyy Also can u spot me in one of these…giggles (dodges tomato)
a/n: rachel with another bullshit idea who is surprised…ty for reading (- -)(_ _)
the sun pours over your body as you walk along empty handed with sukuna holding all the bags and beach equipment. baby!yuji patters along on the mildly hot sand, running on levels of adrenaline only a six year old could muster.
the beach is filled with families similar to yours, children playing in the water, people tanning in the deliciously hot sun and rounds of volleyball being tossed around by large friend groups.
sukuna places down your lounging chairs with an attached shaded umbrella, and plops down with all the bags containing various miscellaneous things.
yuji sticks his tongue out slightly, eyes lighting up with mischief and tries to make a beeline for the water before you grab him by the collar.
“no one gets out there without sunscreen” you wave a finger at him, instructing him to settle down.
yuji pouts impatiently swinging his legs while you get out the bottle of kids sunscreen and rub it on every bit of his exposed skin.
your son wrinkles his nose when you reach for his face applying the lotion in soft rhythmic motions. you proceed to pinch his cheeks and give him a little kiss there while yuji giggles.
sukuna watches you fuss over the brat with mild amusement. his eyes squint under the sun, and drop to admire what you’ve got on.
a frilly little thing exposing your beautiful curves.
sukuna scans the area noting any men looking towards your general direction and stares them down with a cutting glare only he could manage. a look that screamed ‘look away before i come dislocate that head myself’ for good measure.
while yuji runs off to play in the sand, you turn to him with the sunscreen bottle in hand and a knowing smile.
“your turn”
sukuna scoffs from where he’s sprawled back in the beach chair, one arm lazily hanging off the side.
“i don’t burn”
“yes you do”
“i literally don’t”
“your nose got pink last time”
his eyes narrow immediately, “it did not.”
“you then complained that it itched and brooded about it the whole time”
“i don’t brood”
you hum ignoring his offense entirely and pat your thighs.
“c’mere”
he stares at you for a long second before clicking his tongue and leaning forward anyway because despite all his dramatics, sukuna has never once denied you when you used that tone on him.
you snort as sukuna settles in front of you. his massive frame blocks the sun completely and he smells like saltwater and heat already despite barely having stepped into the ocean.
you squeeze sunscreen into your palms and rub it across his shoulders.
his muscles flex beneath your hands while you smooth lotion over the dark markings curling along his skin, careful and thorough despite the way he eyes you.
you drag your fingers over his neck and jaw, rubbing sunscreen into the bridge of his nose while he looks deeply inconvenienced by affection.
“look down”
“this is humiliating.”
“look down, so i can get the back of your neck.”
he grumbles under his breath but tilts his chin downward anyway. his previously bored, half lidded eyes, dilate at the sight of your cleavage, right. in. his. face.
how blissful.
yuji bursts into giggles. you had spiked up sukuna’s hair to stand up in a funky way.
“you look funny papa”
sukuna grimaces.
“want me to throw you into the ocean?”
“yeah!”
“…”
you laugh so hard you nearly smear sunscreen into sukuna’s eye.
you take turns, with sukuna now applying sunscreen onto your back.
eventually yuji tears off toward the shoreline with a plastic bucket in hand, sandals abandoned somewhere behind him.
you lean back into your chair with a satisfied sigh while sukuna sits beside you, one arm draped lazily behind your head.
for a while the two of you simply watch.
yuji jumps over tiny waves, yelling triumphantly every single time he successfully crosses one.
he crouches to collect shells with complete seriousness only to abandon them three seconds later because another wave has appeared.
his little laugh carries over the water. your chest feels warm.
“he looks like you when he gets excited,” you murmur, nuzzling against the base of sukuna’s neck.
“poor kid”
you elbow him lightly, “it is cute sukuna, you are cute”
before sukuna can mull over your words, yuji suddenly turns around spotting the two of you immediately.
“papa!! come here!!”
sukuna pretends not to hear,
“papa!!”
you mouth a slight ‘go’ as your husband sighs dramatically before obliging as per usual.
the water reaches just beneath his knees when yuji grabs his hand excitedly and starts dragging him around with all the strength a six year old could possess.
you pad in after them enjoying the waves and the feel of soft sand beneath your bare feet.
you smile to yourself. it is almost absurd seeing sukuna getting ordered around by a child carrying a neon orange shovel.
yuji points toward a lopsided sandcastle near the shore, “help me make it BIGGER” he sticks his arms out to act out how big he wanted it to be.
sitting back down on your chair you try not to look too amused as sukuna crouches down into the sand.
his large hands awkwardly shape wet sand while yuji gives deeply unnecessary instructions beside him.
“more tower”
sukuna looks over at you, pleading for an escape. you wave him off.
“it’s a sandcastle not a fortress” he mutters back.
“more tower” yuji runs about, sometimes gathering sand and sometimes water. most of the time being largely unhelpful.
sukuna clicks his tongue and adds another tower.
hours later the sky begins softening into gold.
yuji’s exhausted enough now to become clingy, dragging his feet through the sand while holding onto sukuna’s hand.
“i need to wash my feet” you brush sand off your legs with a tired groan.
before you can even move, sukuna bends down and scoops you into his arms effortlessly.
you yelp, “kuna—”
he pats you lower thigh,“stop squirming”
people nearby glance over briefly before immediately looking away once sukuna glares in their direction.
you hide your snicker against his shoulder while he carries you toward the rinse station near the boardwalk.
the water runs cool over your feet as he holds you securely against his chest, an arm around your waist like you weigh nothing at all.
yuji stands beside him sleepily rubbing his eyes.
once your feet are clean, sukuna sets you carefully onto the bench.
then without a word, he crouches down.
you blink.
“..what’re you doing?”
he grabs your sandals from beside the bench.
“your feet’ll get dirty again.”
years of loving him and your heart still stutters stupidly.
sukuna slides the sandals onto your feet one by one with mild annoyance etched across his face, but you know better. his love language when it came to you, was acts of service.
meanwhile yuji watches with narrowed eyes, “papa..?”
“what.”
“that’s sooo romantic” he smiles ear to ear.
sukuna immediately flicks water at his forehead.
yuji screeches dramatically while you laugh loud enough that people turn to look again.
“where did he even learn that?” sukuna asks, a mild smile overtaking his usual harsh features.
you shrug, in a dream-like trance, the domesticity of this moment making your heart soar.
and for once, sukuna doesn’t care at all.
firefly; you guys wanted longer fics so hehe i hope this was good
After a tragic accident erased your memories, you no longer remember the man you married. Unfortunately for you, Ryomen Sukuna remembers everything. And he'll do whatever it takes to make you remember him too.
Everything was so much weird.
When you first opened your eyes, the world was a blur of harsh lights and a rhythmic, annoying beep that made your head throb. A crowd of people were hovering over your bed, their faces twisted into expressions of pure horror and desperation. It felt like they were looking at a ghost or maybe a god that had suddenly fallen from the sky. The moment you blinked and stared back at them with blank, unrecognizing eyes, the room dissolved into quiet, breathless weeping.
You were completely utterly lost. Who was the woman with the dark circles under her eyes calling herself Shoko? Why was she gripping your hand like her entire world was ending? You knew your own name y/n echoed clearly in the empty caverns of your mind, but beyond that single fact, there was only a vast, terrifying void. You understood the modern world. you knew what a smartphone was, you recognized the concept of Wi-Fi, and when you mumbled those details, the doctors in the room let out collective, gasping sighs of relief.
But the real shock came twenty minutes later.
The heavy door to the hospital room burst open with a violent slam. A man lunged inside like a madman, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. You had never seen anyone look like him. His hair was a soft, striking shade of pastel pink so pretty and unexpected that you wondered for a fleeting second if he had dyed it just to stand out. Dark, intricate tattoos mapped across his skin, curling around his sharp cheekbones and framing his eyes. And those eyes... they were a piercing, burning red, swirling with a volatile mixture of terrifying rage and profound, shattering sadness.
You just sat there in your oversized, faded blue hospital gown, looking small and fragile as your confused gaze met his. The man froze, roughly brushing a strand of pink hair out of his face. His clothes were covered in a layer of grey dust and dried grit, looking as though he had sprinted straight off a construction site the second he got the news.
"Fucking... God. Hey, princess... fuck, don't you ever scare me like that again" he breathed, his deep, gravelly voice cracking as he took two massive strides toward your bedside, staring down at you with a desperation that made the air feel heavy.
You shrank back into the pillows, your brow furrowing. Princess? Were you in some bizarre historical simulation? Did kings and horses still exist? No, the blinking medical monitors around you disproved that immediately.
"Mr. Sukuna, please. I need to speak with you in private for a moment" a woman in her mid forties interrupted, her expression incredibly grave as she stepped between you and the huge man. She glanced at the other people lingering by the door. There was a teenage boy, maybe sixteen, who had the exact same pink hair as the tattooed man, his face streaked with tears. Beside him stood another boy with unruly, spiky black hair and a dull, stoic expression that couldn't quite hide the anxiety in his eyes. At the doctor's quiet command, they all slowly filed out into the hallway.
Left alone for a moment, you stared at the stark white walls, the untouched glass of water on the bedside table, and the crushing, dull monotony of the room.
When the door clicked open again, the female physician returned, holding a thick medical chart. The tattooed man followed closely behind her. He tried to offer you a small, reassuring smile, but it looked incredibly strained on his rugged face. His crimson eyes locked onto you, tracking every breath you took as if you might literally vanish into thin air if he dared to look away for a single second.
"Hello, y/n. I am Dr. Jennifer" the woman said kindly, stepping up to the mattress. "Do you know why you were brought here today?"
You frowned, looking between her and the towering man. "No."
The syllable was short and hollow. Beside the doctor, Sukuna’s entire frame stiffened. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered violently beneath his tattoos, his knuckles turning white as he balled his hands into fists.
"Right. But you do remember your name?" she pressed gently.
"Yes... y/n I am Y/N." you answered firmly. You knew the name belonged to you, even if the history attached to it was completely gone.
"And do you know where you are right now?"
"A hospital?"
"Correct" Dr. Jennifer nodded, opening the document in her hands. "Look, I am going to explain exactly what happened, and I need you to listen very carefully, alright?" You gave a small, hesitant nod. "You were in a severe accident yesterday evening. You were walking home from the local market when a car veered off the road and hit you. It is a miracle you walked away with minor physical injuries, but the trauma to your head has caused a severe case of retrograde amnesia. Honestly, it's a surprise you even remember your name right now."
You let out a quiet hum, your eyes drifting down to your own hands resting on the thin blanket. That was when you noticed it a slender, platinum band set with a brilliant, flawlessly cut diamond resting securely on your left ring finger. It looked incredibly expensive, classy, and entirely foreign
So you were married.
"Y/n" Dr. Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You snapped your head up to look at her. "This man standing beside me... he is your husband."
The doctor tilted her head toward the giant. He was massive easily over six feet of raw, intimidating muscle, his tattooed face giving him a terrifying, dangerous aura. Your very first instinctual thought was that this man looked incredibly scary.
Sukuna didn't say a word. He just stood there, letting you analyze him, before he offered you a tiny, incredibly vulnerable nod. You tilted your head, staring into his intense red eyes, desperately searching for a single spark of familiarity. Did I really marry this giant?
"His name is Ryomen Sukuna, and he is going to take care of you" the doctor continued, closing her chart. "For the next few weeks, you need to let your brain rest, but you also need to gently stimulate it to try and regain those lost memories. Spending time in a familiar environment, in your own home with your husband, is going to be the best medicine for you."
You nodded mutely. You didn't exactly have a choice. You were being handed over to a complete stranger who happened to hold a legal claim to your entire life.
"Alright then. I wish you a safe and speedy recovery" Dr. Jennifer said with a final, empathetic smile before slipping out of the room.
The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. Sukuna cleared his throat roughly, taking a few slow, tentative steps toward the edge of your bed. He moved with an immense amount of caution, as if he genuinely believed a sudden movement might break you into pieces. He pulled up the small plastic chair, sinking into it.
"Hey" he said softly. Even in a whisper, his voice was incredibly manly, deep, and rough.
"Hello" you replied shortly, your eyes tracking his hands.
To your surprise, his large, scarred fingers were trembling slightly as he fidgeted with them, refusing to meet your eyes. When he finally looked up, you realized the piercing red of his irises was completely glossy, swimming with unshed tears.
"Yo... you're getting discharged today" he choked out, taking a deep, ragged breath as if the mere act of speaking was causing him physical pain. "I'm going to go sign the paperwork, and then I'm taking you to... our house. I'm going to do whatever the fuck it takes to help you remember, princess."
You stared at his rugged, tattooed face for a long moment before letting out a soft, distant hum.
An hour later, you were sitting in the passenger seat of a sleek, black Jeep, The man Sukuna kept his left hand firmly on the steering wheel while his eyes flicked toward you every sixty seconds, his intense gaze making a nervous flutter erupt in your stomach.
You stared out the window, watching the city buildings, sprawling neighborhoods, and vibrant green trees blur past. Intrigued by the warm breeze, you raised your hand, pressing your palm gently against the glass as if you wanted to touch the passing leaves. Instantly, the window smoothly rolled down. Startled, you turned your head to find Sukuna adjusting the master controls, his eyes locked onto you with an unreadable warmth.
"Can I ask you something-" you murmured softly.
"Yes." The answer came incredibly fast, almost desperate. He was hanging on your every word, practically begging for you to speak to him.
"How... how did we meet?" you asked, leaning your elbow on the door frame as the wind whipped through your hair.
"We met in high school" he answered quickly, navigating a sharp turn onto a quiet, "We've been married for seven years."
"High school?" You tilted your head, a faint smile touching your lips as you extended your hand just slightly out into the rushing air. "Were we friends back then?"
"Careful" he commanded firmly, though there was no real heat in his voice. You obediently pulled your hand back inside. A faint, nostalgic softness crept into his red eyes as he looked ahead. "Friends? no. You could say we didn't liked eachother each other when we first met. You thought I was a loud, arrogant mannerless jerk and I thought you were a stubborn, bossy brat."
He smoothly pulled the Jeep into a long brick driveway, coming to a stop in front of a breathtaking, modern two story house. It was painted a crisp, elegant white with sleek charcoal-grey accents, boasting massive, floor to ceiling windows that caught the afternoon sun.
"This is...our house" Sukuna murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "We've been living here for about four years."
He killed the engine, threw his door open, and practically sprinted around the hood of the car to open your door before you could even reach for the handle. He extended a massive, tattooed hand toward you, his palm open and waiting. You stared at his hand, your eyes traveling up the thick muscles of his forearm, before you deliberately stepped down onto the driveway without taking it.
Sukuna’s hand froze in mid-air. You watched his fingers slowly curl back into a fist before he pulled his arm away, a flash of pure, agonizing heartbreak crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a stoic expression.
As your feet hit the pavement, you looked up at the towering structure, desperately begging your brain to spark even a single ounce of familiarity. Nothing came. But as you turned around, you caught a glimpse of the man standing beside you. He was on the absolute verge of tears. His chest was tight, his jaw locked as he stared at you. You were his entire world, his beautiful wife, and yet you were looking at him like he was a total stranger. He suddenly felt a wave of profound hatred for every single time he had ever been mean or stubborn with you in the past, even in jest. He just wanted his girl back. His sweet innocent girl.
"The house is beautiful" you murmured gently, walking toward the porch.
'The house.' Not our house. The detached wording made Sukuna’s jaw clench painfully.
"Of course it is. I built the damn thing" he muttered, following closely behind you.
It was your exact dream house. Years ago, back when you were just broke college students dating in a cramped apartment, you had traced a clumsy design on a napkin, telling him you wanted a modern white house with endless windows, three bedrooms, and a kitchen large enough for the two of you to bake and slow-dance together while listening to old jazz records. Sukuna had kept that napkin. The moment he made his fortune, he hired a crew but did the vast majority of the heavy structural work with his own two hands. He had gifted you the keys on your third wedding anniversary, and he could still vividly remember the way you had wept tears of joy, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him until you were both breathless. He wanted that smile back. He would give anything just to have you look at him the way you used to.
You stepped inside, ignoring the heavy emotion rolling off him. Sukuna quickly gathered your small hospital bags and followed you into the foyer, shutting the door behind him.
Your eyes immediately gravitated toward the kitchen. It was vast, open, and undeniably stunning, featuring a massive quartz island and a huge sliding glass door that opened directly into a manicured backyard garden. The entire layout felt strangely perfect.
"Let me show you... around" Sukuna offered quietly.
He spent the next half hour guiding you through the corridors of what was supposed to be your life. But as he showed you the grand master bedroompointing out the side of the bed where you used to curl into his chest every single night your face remained entirely blank. You felt a twinge of heavy guilt pooling in your stomach. He showed you the living room, drawing your attention to a collection of large, breathtaking canvas paintings hanging on the walls.
"You painted those" Sukuna noted, a faint trace of pride in his rough voice. "You're a brilliant artist, princess."
You blinked in genuine surprise, looking down at your hands. "I drew these?" You were suprised, you don't even remember touching a brush in your life. But this is your new life. New start.
"Yeah." Sukuna stopped at the edge of the hallway, looking down at you with completely bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept a single second since the hospital called him about your accident. All he wanted to do was wrap his massive arms around your waist, pull you flush against his chest, and bury his face in your hair until the nightmare ended. But he couldn't. "Look... you can sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall, or you can take our bedroom and I'll stay in the guest room. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable you."
"Okay" you hummed softly.
His heart broke a little more at the compliant, distant tone. "I'll go start on some dinner, and then I'll get your medication ready. If you need a single damn thing, you just call out for me, alright? Your clothes are all in the dresser, undergarments in the top drawer, pajamas in the second..."
You nodded, offering him a polite murmur of thanks before retreating into the guest room. You changed into a simple, comfortable t-shirt and sweats. A little while later, his deep voice echoed up the stairs, announcing that dinner was ready. You walked down to the dining room, sitting at the large table like a polite houseguest waiting to be served.
"Do you need help?" Sukuna asked, carefully sliding a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup and a large spoon toward you. You shook your head, grasping the utensil and taking a quiet sip. He sat across from you, his own bowl entirely untouched as he just stared at your face. "Y/n... you really don't remember a single damn thing about me?"
His voice cracked completely on the last word, the raw vulnerability of a ruthless man exposed right in front of you. You looked up, meeting his glossy red eyes.
"No... I don't. I'm really sorry" you whispered genuinely.
He let out a slow nod, swallowing the lump in his throat as he forced himself to look away. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault."
"Do I... do I have parents? Or friends?" you asked, a sudden curiosity about your own forgotten life bubbling up.
"Yeah. You have parents. Your father—"
"Where are they?" you interrupted quickly, leaning forward. "Do they know I was in an accident? Why aren't they here?"
"They haven't spoken to you in over seven years. Not since the day you married me" Sukuna said, his tone dropping into something cold and bitter.
"Why?"
"Your family is rich as fuck. Extremely strict, arrogant aristocrats" Sukuna explained, his red eyes locking back onto yours. "They completely forbade you from seeing me because I was just a rough, tattooed bastard from the wrong side of the tracks with a criminal record and a unstable future. They told you that if you walked out that door with me, you’d be cut off permanently."
You stared at him, a sudden spark of heat flaring in your chest. "Well, that's so stupid of them. It sounds like a good thing we don't talk to them then."
The sheer, unyielding loyalty in your voice made Sukuna’s lips twitch, a genuine, heartbreaking smile threatening to break through his stoic mask. Even with a wiped memory, his sweet wife still possessed that exact same fiery, protective spirit.
"Yeah" he chuckled hoarsely, letting out a long sigh. "You have an incredible best friend named Shoko. You two are both doctors. you work in the exact same surgical unit at the city hospital. We have a ton of mutual friends we met back in our high school days. And those kids at the hospital? The pink-haired teenager is my nephew, Yuji, and the dark-haired one is Megumi, our friend's kid. They practically worship the ground you walk on, princess. You love those brats to death."
"Can I see them?" you asked, a genuine smile finally breaking across your face.
"Of course. Whenever you want." he promised, his eyes tracking the way your lips curved.
Sukuna let out a sudden, rough snort, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. "Old or not, woman... you're still completely breathtaking."
A deep, violent blush instantly stained your cheeks. You hadn't been around an attractive man or any man, for that matter in your conscious memory, and having this giant, dangerously handsome individual throw such a raw compliment at you made your heart do a chaotic somersault. You quickly looked down at your soup, missing the way his eyes softened at your reaction.
Over the next three weeks, the fragments of a life began to surround you, even if the puzzle pieces wouldn't quite lock into place.
Yuji and Megumi came over to the house constantly. Yuji spent hours enthusiastically teaching you how to make his signature protein shakes and weird jello molds, his loud laughter filling the quiet house, while Megumi sat nearby with his usual serious expression. But the moment you offered Megumi a soft, encouraging smile, his sharp features would instantly melt into something deeply tender. Yet, beneath their smiles, you could see the underlying sadness in their eyes every time you failed to remember a shared inside joke.
When Shoko finally visited, she broke down completely, throwing her arms around your neck and sobbing into your shoulder. It was a bizarre maybe stupid too, overwhelming feeling being fiercely loved by people you couldn't even remember and a heavy weight of guilt began to settle deep in your chest. You even met Toji, Megumi's father, a tall, stoic man who didn't say much but looked at you with a quiet, profound pity that made you realize just how broken your situation truly was.
And then, there was Sukuna.
Your husband spent every single day patiently guiding you through your routines, driving you past your old university, cooking your favorite meals, and trying every gentle trigger possible. But your mind remained a stubborn, locked vault. Sukuna was growing desperate furious and completely fucked up by the stagnation.
To make matters worse, just one week before the accident, you had playfully taken down every single one of your framed marriage photographs to rearrange the living room gallery wall, hiding them away in a "genius spot" that Sukuna had completely forgotten more like you didn't even told him. He had spent hours frantically tearing the house apart while you were out, searching for a single modern photo of the two of you together.
He was completely unraveling. He couldn't sleep. The woman he loved was sleeping in the room next to him, yet she looked at him with the polite, distant eyes of a stranger. He felt like a ghost haunting his own home. One evening, he sat alone in the dark kitchen and wept the third time he had ever cried in his entire life. The first had been tears of pure joy on your wedding day when he saw you walking the aisle. the second had been out of terror when the ER doctor told him a car had struck you. and now, he was crying simply because he missed his wife so damn much
His phone offered no help either. his gallery was filled entirely with candid photos he had taken of you you stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head, you laughing in a department store dressing room, or a hilarious picture of you biting into a raw lemon and making a completely disgusted face. He had no photos of the two of you together on his device, you had always been the one insisted on keeping the physical, printed albums. The only joint photos he could find were a few faded, wrinkled prints from your high school days, showing a younger, wilder version of himself wrapping his arms around you from behind while you laughed into the camera. When he showed them to you, you just stared at them blankly. It was killing him.
At the end of the third week, Sukuna was sitting heavily on the living room sofa, completely exhausted after another failed search through the house. He was mindlessly scrolling through the candid photos of you on his phone, a faint, melancholy smile touching his lips. His fingers traced your face on the photo, your bright smile. your bubbly laughter at his most unfunniset jokes, now all of that are vanished.
The heavy front door clicked open. Shoko had taken you out for an afternoon of shopping to get you out of the house, and she had just dropped you off at the curb. You stepped into the foyer, balancing several shopping bags in your arms.
Sukuna instantly locked his phone, shoving it into his pocket as he stood up, his red eyes drinking in the sight of you. "Had fun, princess?"
"Yes, I did. And thank you... for letting me use your credit card" you said softly, walking over to the coffee table and gently sliding the black card back toward him.
"You bought dresses?" he asked, pointing toward the bags. Honestly, he didn't give a single fuck about the money. you could have emptied his entire bank account and he would have gladly signed it away just to see you happy.
"I bought a few things..." You cleared your throat nervously, your fingers twisting together. "But... I actually bought something for you, too."
The words hit his chest like a physical blow. Even with her mind completely wiped, your beautiful, kind soul was still looking out for him. "Really?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Can I see it?"
You gave a small nod, walking over to the couch and tentatively sitting down right next to him. The close proximity made his heart start to hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"I don't know if it's really your style, or if you'll even like it..." you mumbled bashfully, reaching into a small velvet pouch and pulling out a heavy, intricately braided silver bracelet studded with raw, brilliant red stones. "The color... it just immediately reminded me of you. Of your eyes."
You gently reached out, grasping his massive, calloused wrist to drape the metal over his skin. Oh God, if you only knew how fast his heart was racing beneath his chest. Your soft, warm fingers lingering against his pulse point was pure, exquisite torture.
"It looks incredible, Y/n. Thank you." he whispered, a genuine, breathtakingly soft smile spreading across his tattooed face as he looked down at the crimson stones.
"Thank you... for being so incredibly patient with me" you said quietly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
Sukuna let out a long, ragged sigh, his hand hovering over yours for a fraction of a second before he pulled back. "I will always be patient with you, princess. Always."
You looked directly into his burning red eyes, and for the first time in three weeks, a warm, genuine smile broke across your face. Sukuna felt his breath hitch. he was entirely certain he was about to pass out from the sheer weight of his love for you.
"Can you stay right here for a bit? I need to go jump in the shower real quick. I'll be fast" he muttered hoarsely, his hand instinctively reaching out to gently ruffle your hair a comforting, domestic habit he had carefully maintained. You let out a soft chuckle at the gesture.
The moment his heavy footsteps disappeared up the stairs and the sound of running water echoed through the pipes, you stood up, wandering aimlessly around the quiet main floor. Your feet pulled you toward the small, cozy library nestled just off the living room. The walls were lined with hundreds of books some ancient leather volumes, others modern art textbooks. You pulled one off the shelf, flipping through the pages before sliding it back into place.
As you stepped back, your eyes caught a glimpse of something hidden on the absolute highest shelf, shoved far back into the shadows near the ceiling. It looked like a massive, heavy frame leaning flat against the back wall, obscured by a decorative ceramic vase. Intrigued, you stood on your tiptoes, stretching your arms up as high as they could go, blindly reaching for the top edge of the wooden frame.
Your fingers caught the molding, but as you pulled, the heavy ceramic vase shifted, losing its balance.
Crash!
The vase shattered against the hardwood floor with a deafening, echoing smash. Startled, you let out a sharp cry, stumbling backward as the massive hidden frame came tumbling down from the top shelf, striking the edge of the desk before landing flat on the rug. The backing of the frame split completely open upon impact, and a massive cascade of loose, glossy photographs erupted across the floor hundreds of them, scattering like playing cards across the room.
You gasped, placing a hand over your racing heart as you looked away from the broken pottery, your eyes drifting down to the sea of images covering the floor.
You froze.
Right at your feet lay a massive, professionally printed portrait. In the photograph, you were sitting securely on Sukuna's lap. You were wearing a breathtaking, flowing white lace wedding dress, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers, and laughing so brightly your eyes were crinkled shut. Sukuna was clad in a sharp, tailored black tuxedo, his massive arms wrapped fiercely around your waist from behind, an absolutely massive, unbothered, triumphant grin plastered across his face.
Your breath hitched violently. You stumbled forward, falling to your knees as your hands frantically snatched up another photo from the pile. In this one, you were hoisted high up on Sukuna's broad shoulders at a crowded, flashing outdoor music festival; your mouth was wide open in a breathless scream of laughter, while his large hands were clamped firmly around your thighs to keep you safe, both of your faces painted with pure, unadulterated euphoria.
You grabbed a third photo, and the entire world stopped spinning. It was a quiet, intimate shot taken right in the backyard garden outside. You were sitting cross-legged on the green grass, wearing a simple summer dress with a soft, shy smile, while Sukuna’s heavy head was resting completely in your lap. He was looking up at you with an expression of such pure, unconditional adoration it made your soul ache, while your fingers were woven gently through his soft pink hair.
Pink hair.
The backyard.
The jazz music.
The napkin.
A sudden, violent explosion of memories ripped through the barriers of your mind. It wasn't a trickle; it was a catastrophic, roaring tidal wave. Seven years of laughter, fierce arguments, passionate late-night apologies, the smell of his skin, the exact weight of his body pressing you into the master mattress, the sound of his deep voice whispering "I've got you, princess" into the dark. It all hit your brain at once with the force of a freight train.
The sheer, overwhelming velocity of the memories made the room spin violently. Your vision blurred into a vortex of white light and crimson eyes. You let out a choked gasp, your strength entirely giving out as your body collapsed sideways onto the hardwood floor with a loud, heavy thud, the scattered photographs of your life pooling around your unconscious form.
When you finally opened your eyes again, the harsh glare of the ceiling lights was gone, replaced by the warm, dim ambiance of the living room. You were laying flat on the soft fabric of the sofa.
"She's waking up! Sukuna, look, her eyes are moving!" Yuji’s panicked, loud voice cut through the quiet room.
You blinked heavily, your vision slowly focusing. Megumi was standing right beside his cousin, his dark eyes wide and completely swimming with anxiety. Shoko was hovering over you, a small medical flashlight in her hand, her face pale as she checked your vitals.
But your heart didn't care about any of them. Your eyes frantically scanned the tight circle of people, instantly landing on the massive, tattooed man standing frozen at the foot of the couch. His pastel pink hair was damp from the shower, his chest heaving under a plain black t-shirt, and his face was a mask of pure, absolute terror.
As your eyes met his, a single, heavy tear spilled over your eyelid, tracing a hot path down your cheek. The vast, terrifying void in your mind was completely gone, replaced by the roaring, beautiful fire of your reality.
"Ryo..." you choked out, your voice a broken, breathless sob.
Sukuna froze, his entire frame visibly violently shuddering at the sound of the nickname the private, intimate name only you were ever allowed to call him.
Before anyone else could even blink, you threw yourself forward off the sofa cushions, completely ignoring the dull ache in your muscles. You lunged straight into his space, your arms wrapping fiercely around his massive neck. You buried your face in the crook of his collarbone, gripping the fabric of his shirt with a desperate, white-knuckled intensity as you pressed a hard, crying kiss directly against his tattooed jaw.
"I remember... us" you sobbed violently into his skin, your entire body trembling as the tears flowed freely. "I remember everything, Ryo... I remember you."
Sukuna’s mind completely blanked. For a single, breathless second, he couldn't even process the words. And then, a raw, ragged sound escaped his throat a mixture of a sob and a laugh. His massive, powerful arms came crashing down around your frame, pulling you so close against his chest you could barely breathe, lifting your knees entirely off the floor as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
And there, in the middle of his living room, surrounded by his family and the scattered photographs of your love, Ryomen Sukuna closed his eyes and wept for the fourth time in his life.
"I fucking love you" he whispers
(not me me writing all night just for 36 like and one reblog😣🙏🏾)
⋆˖ when you accidentally unfollow sae and now everyone thinks the two of you broke up ( ˘𖥦˘;) 🗯️
you and sae had been doing long distance for a while now. with him in spain and you back in japan, most of your days consisted of stolen calls between his training sessions, little updates about your day & sending each other reels whenever one of you couldn’t sleep. which was exactly why the entire misunderstanding felt so absurd.
it happened on a random afternoon.
you’d been lying in bed scrolling through instagram, mindlessly stalking your own profile after posting a new photo. somewhere between checking comments & accidentally opening your following list, your thumb slipped.
unfollow.
you didn’t even notice.
a few minutes later, you tossed your phone onto the mattress and rolled over for what was supposed to be a quick nap. you’d been feeling exhausted after running errands all morning, so you figured a short nap wouldn’t hurt.
meanwhile, on the other side of the world… the internet started speculating the worst.
apparently dating one of the top soccer players in the world meant people monitored your relationship status like it was a full-time job. and within an hour, the screenshots were everywhere.
user12345: DID ITOSHI SAE & HIS LONG-TERM GIRLFRIEND BREAK UP????
itoshino1fan: OMG SAE & Y/N NO LONGER FOLLOW EACH OTHER
saeglazer101: OOOPP TROUBLE IN PARADISE??! 👀 HERE’S MY CHANCEE 😜
gossip & tea pages were already running with the narrative. fan accounts started reposting each other. tiktok edits of your “failed relationship” started flooding everyone’s feed.
and unfortunately for you, the news had travelled all the way to spain.
sae had just finished his morning run when his phone started exploding with notifications from multiple people & journalists. even shidou who he has not spoken to in weeks somehow sent him a screenshot of the news with the caption:
💬: so she finally dumped you? 💀
for a few seconds, he simply stood there with his phone in hand trying to figure out how the internet had somehow came to the conclusion that he’d been dumped. the last thing you’d sent him before he went out for his run was a picture of the lunch you made, so there was absolutely no way you’d broken up with him in the short span of three hours (and without his knowledge too).
still, when he opened instagram & saw that you really weren’t following him anymore… something in his chest dropped.
immediately, he tapped on your contact & started calling you.
the ringing echoed through the speaker until the call eventually ended on its own. no answer. his jaw tightened as he tried again.
beep
the line disconnected, so he tried again.
beep
and again.
beep
by the time the tenth call went unanswered, his text messages had already started flooding your chat.
sae ♡: answer your phone
sae ♡: ???
sae ♡: y/n
sae ♡: i’m serious
sae ♡: we need to talk
sae ♡: hello?
back in japan, however, you were peacefully asleep; completely unaware that half the internet had assumed you’ve broken up with your famous mid-fielder boyfriend, or that said boyfriend was currently having the worst few hours of his life.
—
three hours later when you finally woke up and reached for your phone, your lockscreen lit up with 30 notifications from sae.
20 unanswered texts.
10 missed calls
and approximately 100 notifications from all your social media combined of posts that you were tagged in from strangers on the internet mourning a breakup that never actually happened.
“… what the hell?” you muttered in complete disbelief as you sat upright in bed.
you immediately started calling sae back, and he answered within the first ring. “amor...” the relief in his voice hit you so fast that you nearly forgot why you’d called in the first place.
“sae?” you blinked. “what happened?”
there was a brief pause before he let out a slow exhale. “you unfollowed me.”
“… what?”
“you unfollowed me.”
“no? i was literally asleep.”
“check my profile.”
you stared at your screen before immediately going to his profile. and there it was… that mocking ‘follow back’ button staring back at you, clearly showing that you did in fact unfollow him.
“oh shit…”
“exactly what i said,” he replied flatly.
“i-i’ll fix it, okay? i’ll put up a statement on my story. hold on,” you said quickly.
immediately, you tapped onto your story and typed out a short statement— hoping it would stop the rumors before they spiraled any further.
after posting it, you let out a relieved sigh. you knew people were parasocial when it came to professional soccer players, but you certainly didn’t expect thousands of people to reach the conclusion that you’d broken up over one misplaced tap of your thumb.
“… there.” you murmured, staring at the freshly uploaded story. “crisis averted.”
“mhm.”
his response was immediate, but something about the way he said it made you anxious.
you frowned.
“a-are you still mad?” you asked, fiddling with the corner of your pillowcase.
there was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “i’m not mad.”
“sae.”
“… what?”
“that doesn’t sound very convincing.”
another pause.
then you heard him exhale quietly. “i said i’m not mad, amor.”
“… promise?”
this time, the sigh that left him sounded almost resigned. “yes amor,” he replied, the edge in his voice finally softening.
“i promise.”
only then did some of the tension leave your shoulders. you sank back against your pillows, finally relaxing. “… okay,” you murmured. “that’s good to know.”
somehow the call grew quiet again, but this time it felt comfortable rather than tense. neither of you seemed particularly eager to hang up.
“… i-i miss you, sae.” you finally broke the silence.
for a second, all you could hear was the faint sound of movement from his side of the call before he spoke again, his voice noticeably softer this time. “i miss you too, amor.”
the two of you stayed on the phone for another hour before his schedule eventually caught up with him. he listened to you ramble about your day while simultaneously packing his training bag, occasionally responding with a quiet hum to let you know he was still listening. eventually, you ended up curled beneath your blankets with the call still connected, smiling whenever his voice drifted through the speaker.
. . .
the distance between spain and japan still felt unfair.
but somehow, it was hard to dwell on the miles between you when he still felt so present in your everyday life.
"When I look in your eyes I see the entire galaxy reflecting back at me"
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Pairings: re9!husband!leon x wife!reader
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Genre : fluff, romance, banter, emotional intimacy, soft leon, flirt
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Summary - Waking up beside your husband: Leon, every morning was a feeling not even the seven heavens above could compete with.
And as you lay there beside him, watching the quiet rise and fall of his chest, all you could feel was utterly enchanted by beautiful scene before you.
WC : 1.3k
As soft morning light filtered through the blinds of your bedroom, brushing your skin in pale gold, your eyes slowly fluttered open.
And a sleepy sound escaped your lips as you turned your head toward the bear of a man sleeping beside you.
Leon was literally completely out of it.
And somehow that made you far too aware of him. Then you rolled over on your side, beneath the blankets, taking your time as you admired him.
God. He looked gorgeous like this. His messy blond hair had fallen across his forehead during the night, stubborn strands sticking out in every direction.
His soft brown freckles decorated his pale skin, scattered across his nose and cheeks like tiny constellations. And you smile faintly as you notice his nose scrunched lazily before relaxing again, while his ridiculously long lashes rested against his eyes.
You groaned at the sight, then your eyes traveled to down to his lips and you were actually shocked; because of how good they looked at first thing in the morning. You simply stared at them for a bit and the sight before you made your heart swell pleasantly against your ribs.
And a soft hum escaped you as you reached across the duvet and gently brushed your fingers against his cheek, tracing his skin softly.
But of course he didn't react.
And that alone gave you a beautiful idea.
Your smile widened as you leaned over him, your gaze lingering on his sleeping face for a moment longer.
Then, overcome by a sudden wave of what could only be described as cute aggression, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, letting your lips linger there briefly before pulling away.
A fond smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned in again, pressing another gentle kiss against the side of his temple.
He doesnt move.
So you kissed his cheek, and a giggle bubble up your chest. Then slowly you pressed your lips on his nose.
"God, Leon you're so pretty."
Then his jaw.
"My husband." You smiled and murmured against his skin.
Though still nothing, so you pulled back a bit, Leon wasnt making any noises except few snore that sounded way too fake.
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him, because he was way too still and there was absolutely no way Leon Kennedy slept this deeply.
Determined now, you gently brushed your fingers through his hair before trailing them down his arm, slowly tracing the muscles beneath his shirt.
Goosebumps rose over his body as his breathe deepens but he doesnt wake.
"Uh-oh you are gonna play this game, hm?" you whispered and poked his cheek.
He was still-still.
Then you cradled his face before squishing it slightly. Your eyes narrowed further at him and you playfully hum, “Guess I could bite him now.”
Finally, the corner of his mouth twitched upward, the skin around his eyes crinkling slightly even though he still refused to open them.
The moment you caught it, you immediately sat upright, a betrayed smile spreading across your face. "You're awake." you accused and in same breath you gasped dramatically. "You are a terrible actor!"
But still he plays pretend and lies still, then slowly sighing you lean closer to him, "Leon."
The next thing you knew, a strong arm slipped around your waist. You barely had time to let out a startled squeak before the world tilted beneath you.
In one smooth motion, Leon pulled you down onto him, and suddenly you found yourself sprawled across his chest. "Leon!" you yelped, gripping his shoulders as his laughter rumbled beneath you.
"You were saying?" He chuckles deeply, his words vibrating in your chest.
"You were pretending to sleep!"
"You kissed me like twelve times." Leon grins.
"You counted?"
"I counted every single one."
Your face immediately warmed, as heat spreads across your chest and the traitor only looked pleased with himself.
And you notice his one arm remained securely around your waist while the other settled behind his head. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, yet amusement danced inside them.
"You look very proud of yourself," you giggled, rubbing your chin lightly against his chest as you settled more comfortably on top of him. The motion only seemed to make his smug expression grow wider.
"I am." He mumbled.
"For what?"
"Catching you." Leon teased as he rubbed his chin across your hairs, making you giggle again.
Then as you gaze up at him, his smile softened a moment later, and his eyes slothfully locked on yours, like he was seeing something worth millions.
Your heartbeat stumbled at his softened reaction. "What?"
For a moment he simply looked at you. Then his hand came up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
His expression turned unexpectedly gentle and he whispers with a smile, "When I look in your eyes," he paused then takes a big deep breath before continuing, "I see the entire galaxy reflecting back at me."
Your breath get caught in your lungs again, "Wow."
The smug smile returned instantly on his face. "Wow?"
"You are so cheesy first thing in the morning," you teased, though your heart was already betraying you, drumming frantically against your chest as warmth spread across your face.
"I was being romantic," he pouted, his lips jutting out ever so slightly as he looked at you with exaggerated offense.
You mumbled against his chest. "Fine, fine... it made my heart stutter."
Leon chuckled softly at that before pressing a kiss against your temple.
Then he rested his chin lightly atop your head as you settled more comfortably against his chest. Your own chin found its place on his shoulder while his arms remained securely around you.
You stayed like that, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing beneath your ear.
After a while, you glanced up at him and found his eyes closed, a peaceful expression settling across his features.
A small smile tugged at your lips at the sight. For all his toughness, Leon was an absolute softie when it came to you, and moments like these reminded you of that more than anything else.
For a while you just stayed there tangled in each other as morning sunlight continued to spill across the room.
While the blankets tangled between your legs.
You felt so comfortable lying on top of him that it genuinely felt as though you were resting on a cloud.
As the two of you gradually relaxed into the quiet of the morning, you tilted your head upward, your chin brushing lightly against his chest. "When did you wake up?" you asked, letting out a soft sigh against his skin as you looked up at him.
Leon didn't even open his eyes this time, instead he hummed and replied, "When you were staring at me."
You laughed shaking your head and lifted your head to look at him. "You were awake at that point?" you asked, disbelief and amusement slipping into your voice.
"You know when you stirred I though you were going to be awake and I can't sleep when you're not near me. Can't help it, baby," he said, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
A quiet sigh escaped you at his words, and you melted further against his chest, feeling strangely safe there, almost as if you were being held by an angel, instead of Leon.
The sound you made earned another kiss against your temple. Then Leon pulled you even closer against his chest, his arms tightening around you as though he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.
Absentmindedly, your fingers found his biceps, tracing lazy circles over them while you settled comfortably against him.
Neither of you made any effort to leave the warmth of the bed, content to remain tangled together in the quiet comfort of the morning. Because after all, some mornings were simply too good to rush.
you know that trope where it’s princess + knight, but they’ve both been captured by the bad guys and the princess is now gripped by the jaw by the villain, receiving a thin cut to her cheek while remaining completely still with a defiant look in her eyes even as a droplet of blood begins to trickle out of the wound, all while 3 people AT THE VERY LEAST need to have their hands locked on the knight because he’s thrashing around like a wild animal, trying so so so desperately, violently, to get to her?
⋆˚꩜｡ Firelord!Zuko x Firelady!Reader | angst, fluff ending | cw: mentions of falling unconscious, injuries, fighting, the new ATLA movie (no major plot spoilers) | wc: 1976 | a/n: thank you for reading ! my requests are open on my ask page btw. feel free to let me in on your thoughts too. enjoy :)
synopsis: an overprotective Firelord and a Firelady desperate to prove herself get into a fight after she runs off to deal with Ozai loyalists.
“My Lord! The Firelady has arrived!” yelled a guard as he burst through the doors of the throne room, interrupting the chaos that crowded it.
Zuko’s ears caught y/n’s voice before he could form a reply. “I can walk by myself, you know!” she squirmed, freeing herself from the grip of the guards attempting to help her as if she’d been injured. “Apologies, my lady,” the two guards spoke simultaneously, withdrawing their grasp around her and stepping away.
Y/n was dressed in a dark black robe, a hood hanging behind her and a sword strapped to her waist. Her dishevelled hair also complemented her enigmatic allure, a stark contrast to the royal elegance that normally adorned her. Her face lifted, finding him standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by many uneasy council members, maids and guards. It was obvious that what they feared at that moment was the wrath of the Firelord rather than her demise, as the latter was unlikely.
A few seconds of tense eye contact passed between the Lord and the Lady, as if they both were scrutinising the other. He was the first to break.
“Everyone dismissed. I’d like some privacy with my wife,” the loud, commanding voice of the Firelord echoed through the room, swiftly emptying it.
It was almost as if the gravitas that just graced him left, too. One would certainly agree, having witnessed how hastily he moved to her, his hands reaching to cling to her shoulders, eyes scanning her for any injuries. “What on earth were you thinking? Do you have any idea how worried I was? You were gone the entire day!” the once authoritative voice now unsteady.
“Zuko, I’m fine—”
“The palace physician. We’re going to see the palace physician.”
Almost instinctively, she wanted to disagree, but having finally seen the weariness painted across his face, from his sunken eyes to the slight quiver of his lips, she could only sigh and agree. “Fine, but I’m okay, really. There’s not a scratch on me.”
“The physician will be the judge of that,” he replied tautly. Not a second later, his hand was already gently holding her arm, guiding her to their shared chambers.
She wanted to protest his grip on her; she could walk on her own after all. However, she had once again melted at the sight of the unease that seized him; she realised a few steps in that his actions were more to reassure himself than her.
An hour had passed with the physician in their chambers. Mostly because Zuko would demand one check-up after another, claiming that the physician might have missed something.
“My lord, I assure you that her Ladyship is perfectly alright. There is not a scratch on her—”
“Once more,” he demanded.
She sighed and tugged at the edge of Zuko’s sleeve. “Zu, I promise I’m fine. Another check-up, after the many you’ve already ordered, won’t change that,” her tone was calm as if she was trying to soothe his nerves.
A sigh left him. “Thank you for your help. You may leave us.”
The physician bowed, wasting no time in leaving.
A moment of silence passed, the elephant in the room waiting to be acknowledged.
“What on earth were you thinking?” he repeated from earlier. His gaze at her was now sharp, though the shaky tone of his yell showed the opposite.
“Zuko I—”
“You weren’t hurt, but you definitely could have been! Why on earth had you not said anything? And how on earth did you manage to evade all the guards I sent after you—”
“Let me speak, will you!” y/n’s shout broke through the resonance of his voice.
Zuko’s eyes widened, but he complied. A bite settled on his bottom lip as if to restrain himself.
She now sat up straight on the bed she’d been lying on, her eyes never leaving him. “I’d received intel from my shadow knights about a group trying to infiltrate a carriage of goods heading through one of the trade routes headed here. It was an attempt by banished Ozai loyalists to map out routes to the palace, and from what I’ve been told, the rest of the Fire Nation. I’m assuming they're aware of the significant infrastructure development that's taken place since you came into power. It was all in the note I left, remember—”
He rolled his eyes, followed by a groan, “Y/n, a note isn’t nearly enough—”
“Shut up and let me finish,” she interrupted. “As I said in my note, I wouldn’t have left in a rush had this not been a matter of urgency. The infiltrators were already en route to interfering with the passage of the goods. I wouldn’t have left alone either had I thought this wasn’t a matter I could handle. There were only about three of them. I couldn’t let them get close to accomplishing what they wanted, especially—” she hesitated. “Especially knowing that their final goal is to hurt you.”
“You still should have told me, y/n. I would have sent members of the royal guard to handle it. You could have gotten hurt—”
The fury had now gotten to her. She had stood up from their bed, her steps slow as she cornered him. This was her way of forcing him to acknowledge every word she spoke properly.
“Hurt by three out-of-shape men? I told you I wouldn’t have gone had I not known I could handle it. My shadow knights already reported on who was heading our way. I’m one of the best firebenders there is. I’m a skilled fighter too. You know this. You were fine with me going on my own ventures before—”
“That was different,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze as his back hit the wall.
“Different how? You’ve been treating me like a child ever since Republic City! I fought three men and pushed the Ozai loyalists off our track. What can I do to make you stop doubting me, Zuko? I’m suffocating here!” she pleaded desperately as her hands tugged at the lapels of his robes.
His lips pursed as his mind drifted back. Republic City. The fight with Taga. The love of his life, his everything, unconscious for days he’d lost count of. He inhaled a sharp breath, letting go of it instantly in an attempt to steady himself.
Her eyes widened at the worsened shift of his demeanour; she was confused to say the least. Had she hurt him? “I’m sorry I—” her concerned voice was interrupted by a loud ring. It seems the Grandfather Clock in the room decided that midnight was far too late for the lovers’ quarrel.
Zuko huffed, momentarily shutting his eyes and knitting his brows to relieve the tension in his forehead before facing her with open eyes again. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Her hands clenched his robe again, “But Zu—”
He shushed her gently. “It’s okay. I just need some time to think, and you could use the rest after the adventure you had today. I’ll ask the maids to draw you a bath.”
She faltered, but soon sighed in defeat, loosening her grip on him and taking a step back. “Morning then.”
He lowered himself and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Love you,” he whispered.
She held his jaw, momentarily restraining him from standing up straight again. A soft kiss on his cheek followed. “I love you too,” she whispered back.
Zuko retired to his study. He could have headed to his chambers, of course, but a smart man like him knew he would not get a wink of sleep.
Y/n was no different. She’d thought through her bath, thought as she’d changed into sleepwear, thought when she should’ve been asleep and thought again as the yellow rays of the sun seeped through her window.
As the hues of sunrise disappeared, she got out of bed and began getting ready for the day. Having dismissed her ladies-in-waiting, as she usually did, since she preferred doing her morning routine alone, she had more time to compose herself.
Breakfast arrived, and the two decided to eat in the private dining room of their quarters.
“Sleep well?” she asked as she picked at her food, too tired to eat.
“Yeah,” the ends of his palms rubbed at his eyes. “And you?”
“Same,” she spoke as she stifled a yawn.
A stretch of quietness held the room for a while. Not the awkward kind, or the relaxing kind, but the kind that usually precedes a climactic event.
“I don’t doubt you at all. Far from it,” he broke the stillness.
For a moment, she hadn’t fully absorbed what he’d said, still stuck in an exhausted haze. Though her eyes soon widened as her ears caught on the weight of his words. “What?” The question left her, barely a whisper.
“Back then, after you got hurt at Republic City— I thought I’d lost you. It’s hard for me to even think about it. The way you looked, the fear in Katara’s eyes as she rushed to heal you, the unusual silence and loneliness in the palace walls— it made me think that I’d never be able to wake up next to you every morning again, or listen to your words as you talked for hours, or hear your laugh, or share a meal, or do every other thing I enjoy doing with you ever again. It scared me so much that I couldn’t eat, sleep, or even move. None of it mattered if I didn’t get to breathe alongside you ever again.”
Her lips pursed as she struggled to come up with a response.
He continued, “I’m sorry for making you feel like I doubted you or that you weren’t enough. You’re so talented, my love. I admire and learn so much from you, whether it’s your firebending, your fighting or your intellect. I was afraid of losing that back then, and yesterday, I feared losing it again.”
She sighed, taking the opportunity to collect herself after being overwhelmed by the information she’d just learned. And then began, “I ran off to prove to you that I could handle it. I didn’t even think of how bad what had happened back then would have been for you. I genuinely believed that you thought little of me because I got injured. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you where I was going because I’d want you to have told me. I just didn’t want you to stop me—”
“I probably would have,” he paused. “But it’s not my place. Caging you has hurt you more than freedom could ever have. I know that now. I’m sorry, I really am. And I could never think little of you— I’m not that stupid. It’s not your fault you got hurt.” his hand wrapped around hers.
A small laugh left her mouth at his comment before she began talking again. “It’s okay to be protective. Heck, the whole reason I left was that I feared for your safety. But respecting one’s space is always important. We live, and we learn. We’ll be more transparent about our feelings and actions from now on,” she kissed the back of his hand.
He nodded, a little flustered at her kiss.
A moment of peace governed the two, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that had inhabited them the previous night.
“So you really took down all three of them? Not that I am shocked.”
“Oh, you should’ve seen how marvellous it was. No one gets close to hurting my Zuzu,” she kissed his cheek.
“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes in an attempt to counter the flush of his face.
“We should go together next time. Not that I'm hoping there is a next time.”
synopsis: you find some explicit pictures of yourself in your husband’s wallet!
cw: smut (18+ seriously), pinv, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex, cream pie (slight breeding kink), creation of pornographic material (just pics), kento keeps photos of you like a lil freak, just kind of fluffy of husband/wife banter, pet names like honey and sweetie guys he’s just the best husband ever i want him so bad
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
"do you have change, ken?" you reach into your purse, trying to search for more cash but nanami's already handing over his wallet as he sighs, his phone on his shoulder as he listens to whoever is rambling on the other side of his call. you take his wallet with a whispered thanks, not wanting to bother him as you check inside the front and side.
"yeah. i know. ... i'm with my wife right now. can this conversation not happen in person?" nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. you smile slightly. gojo..? "it's... okay. keep me updated." ken hangs up the phone call as you take out a couple coins, accidentally catching onto his license as it falls. kento immediately picks it up. but... you notice something odd in his wallet. that's not cash. that's...
"holy shit..!" you exclaim, picking out the photo. "is that me??"
oh man, if this was anyone but you. a little polaroid, slightly blurry, one you would recognise instantly if you weren't plain shocked. you bring it closer to your view, it's from that little... photoshoot... you both did last year when you went to prague. that burgundy push up bra, with pink lace and matching panties, body arched as you smiled and kissed to the camera.
".. right.." kento paused, and you looked up to see if he had any reaction at all to this. maybe it was imperceptible to anyone other than his wife, but his cheeks were slightly tinged pink with embarrassment, and he was almost.. avoiding direct eye contact.
"yes, it is you." he picked up his license from the floor, then held out his hand to take the wallet back. you held it back a little, to your chest to tease him a little bit more about this.
"it's me! you have a photo of me, half naked inside your wallet! where anyone could see..?" you question, the brightest smile on your face. oh, this has improved the day infinitely.
kento clears this throat, "no one would see it. why would i want anyone to see it? you're my wife, it's not a.. page ripped from a magazine." he tries to excuse himself, lowering his voice slightly as he puts his hand back to his side in defeat.
"but what if you got pulled over by the cops while driving? you show him your license, and then oh, there's a naked woman in your wallet as well?" you suggest.
ken pauses again, looking back at you as he smirks. "i'm sure it would work out favourably in the terms of avoiding a ticket."
you slap the wallet back onto his chest, "dirty, dirty. i am so shocked. why is it in your wallet? and not a heart shaped locket?" he grunts slightly, taking it back and slipping his license over the polaroid.
"i can't keep a photo of my wife in my wallet? it's a comfort. a reminder of what i get to come home to." he smiles again slightly, looking down at you. "oh, so you do remember what a privilege it is that i stay with such a driven man." you exhale, pulling on his tie sharply before letting go, patting down his chest briefly, smoothing it out.
he puts two coins in the slot for coffee, waiting as the two cans drop and he lifts them both with his free hand, opening the tab for you, offering it.
"if we don't get home soon the ice cream will melt." he reminds you instead of replying directly, lifting the bag of grocery shopping from the ground next to the vending machine.
you lock your arm with his as you both begin walking again, before you speak up. "doesn't it get boring looking at the same photo over and over?" you ask kento, tilting your head.
he looks over at you, furrowing his eyebrows, "no, not at all." he replies, not a single doubt in his voice or his expression. "it's just one i particularly.. like." he shrugs and looks off as if he's recalling the options he had to choose from- no, he liked that one.
then he looks at you again. "are you suggesting you want to make new ones?" his expression clears again, but his ears are burning red, colour creeping up his neck.
"it does sound like another one is due." you smile again, as he keeps walking his hand slides down your forearm to hold your hand.
he pauses for a moment, as if deep in thought as you get nearer to your apartment.
"... the blue one. you'll have to wear that one." ken glances at you again, his mind clearly running as he takes out the keys from his jacket pocket. "huh?" you reply. "the dark one? with the straps? or the dressy one with the bows..." you ask him, thinking for a moment.
"... can’t we do both?" ken shrugs slightly as he opens the door to the hallway, and you begin to go up the steps together. "both... hm..." you smile again.
"i don't see why not." you pinch his shoulder as he opens your front door, and you help him lift the shopping bag onto the counter, starting to unpack. he smiles quietly to himself in that way he does where he doesn't even realise he's smiling.
"it's alright, i'll handle this. go, relax for a while." ken says as he sorts the items for the freezer, the cupboard, the fridge.
"how about i go and shower?" you lean forward on the counter. "and you can relax for an hour, i can make myself look really pretty..." you look up at him as he seems to shake his head in amusement.
"you already look beautiful. you don't have to do anything more."
"you know what i mean. please, i won't rush, and it will just give you a moment to yourself after this week." you smile again, coming around the counter.
".. do whatever you like. alright?" ken puts his hand on your hair, holding you to kiss your forehead. "okay.. don't count the minutes." you warned him jokingly as you pulled back, waltzing to your shared bedroom into the ensuite.
he's counting the seconds.
nanami put away the rest of the groceries as you turned on the shower to wash your hair.
he kept looking at his watch before he tried to listen to your instructions, loosening his tie and untucking his shirt to sit on the plush sofa.
he took out his wallet, his thumb tracing over the pocket with his license before taking out the polaroid. he hears music play from the bathroom as you get ready, and he can't help but feel a pinch of guilt.
of course she values these hours we get together, she wants every second to be perfect... i shouldn't question her at all anymore with these things, he thinks to himself. he looks at the photo with a slowly relaxing intensity, his shoulders sinking back into the couch as his teeth stopped their grinding.
he turns on the tv to let the time pass faster, only checking his watch every 3 or so minutes. meanwhile you tried not to rush drying yourself off, putting on the slightest bit of makeup that would match with the lingerie and still look good for the camera.
you take another while, making sure there's no drops of water lingering on your skin, first slipping on the cute babydoll dress. though you could hardly call it a dress. it was almost a completely sheer blue on your breasts, with lace fabric trailing down delicately to the light panties that had a tiny bow on the centre. and the back, well... well you couldn't say it wad modest exactly.
you spray a dash of perfume at your neck and fan it out before leaving the bathroom to go back to show nanami your work.
but you spot something delicious on the kitchen counter too. "ooh..!" you exclaim quietly going over to open the box of matcha cookies that kento left out.
nanami turned around as he heard you skip over, and his jaw almost drops. his lips part as he lets out some noise, between a gasp and a grunt of surprise and appreciation.
he wiped his jaw as he got up, and you took a bite of the soft green cookie. "mmm, sweetheart, these are so good..!" you smile as you swallow, covering your lips briefly as he gazed at you like it was for the first time.
"you're..." he breathed out, his hands reaching out, not knowing where to touch, as though he didn't know your body inside and out...
you look up at him, eyes hopeful for those next words, and you put down the cookie to put your hands on his arms. "you like it?" you ask him.
of course he likes it, christ. his throat was drier than the Sahara. "of course i do." he murmurs, his hands landing on your waist gently before gripping, hauling you up to wrap your legs around his waist.
he grunts slightly and smiles as you fix yourself on him, one hand under your thigh and the other on your waist. nanami's mouth traces your shoulder, teeth nipping and pulling at the strap of the lingerie, making it snap back onto your skin as you laugh a little.
"can't you be more careful?" you tug the hair on the back of his head gently. but he doesn't pull back, his lips and his tongue moving up to your jaw.
"i just can't control myself.. around my beautiful wife..." he murmurs, his tone soft and reassuring. he starts to walk, his hand keeping your butt up, "i could throw you down on the bed, stay there until monday..." he tells you, his voice still muffled as his nose brushed against the nape of your neck, opening the bedroom door.
he laid you down on the soft light sheets, hand tracing up your side under the transparent chiffon of the lingerie.
"but we have so many commitments..." you whisper back, smiling as you kiss his nose, thumb caressing his cheek as your eyes flick across his expression.
although his eyes contain a constantly present tiredness, there's something soft and genuine in them in this moment. combined with arousal, adoration, love.
"they don't matter to me... not like you do... like this does..." he breathes you in once more, his palm over the cup of your bra, aching to break inside. his hands hook under your thighs to pull you closer, the pressure instant as you gasp lightly, and his lips attach onto yours.
"leave the camera for now.." he growled lowly, tongue then tracing your lip, coaxing your mouth wide. you moan unashamedly into the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck as you try to grind your hips into the tight crotch of his trousers. your hand trails down, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers.
feeling your hand palming his briefs makes kento groan, pressing himself further into your hand and towards your panties just to fan that flame. his face pulls back from yours, only to dive down to your chest and your stomach, lifting the chiffon with delicacy, pressing a kiss above your navel.
his hands hold just above your hips, before tugging down those blue panties. he exhales shakily, his breath warm against your skin, before pressing a kiss to the softness just above your navel. his lips linger there, why do these moments always feel so fleeting? he wants to focus on you. forever.
but as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, his thoughts scatter in your passion. his palms slide up your thighs, then hook under your knees, pulling them apart wider as he lowers himself between your legs.
his tongue teases your hipbone, then moves lower as he traces lines down your inner thigh. his lips curl upward as he finally finds your clit, pressing a kiss to the spot to make your legs tighten around him. his tongue swirls around it, slowly picking up speed as he savours your taste.
he moans softly against you, the vibrations making your back arch, as you moan out. "kento.." you say, your fingers gripping the ends of his hair before you collapse back onto your elbows. he breathes you in again, his hands squeezing your ass to lift you further up into his mouth as he flattens his tongue and presses upwards.
his eyes are heavy lidded as he looks up to see your expression. face slightly scrunched, mouth open with small moans escaping at every breath.
his cock grows painfully hard in his briefs. he reaches into his trousers to shift it but pulls away to hear your soft mewl of protest. "ken, baby..." you complain slightly, confused as your breathing stays heavy, heartbeat throbbing in your clit.
"what did we say about being patient?" he asked you instead, though his breathing was just as heavy.
he dragged his hand down his face briefly, collecting himself before unbuttoning his trousers. he pulls down his briefs with them, gripping his thick cock in his hand. you lean up, pupils blown as your hand reaches out to touch him.
fingertips trace his abdomen, down to the base of his cock and the trimmed thin curls of hair surrounding.
your thumb rubs his wet tip, spreading pre-cum as he groaned quietly. but ken never saw the need for teasing. he runs his hand under your leg once more, leaning down as he lined your hips to his length, his tip sliding inside your cunt. nanami paused for a moment, his eyes closed as his nose nudged yours, your lips met with an intense passion.
"my beautiful wife..." he whispers, swallowing as he breathes heavily, gazing at the connect between your bodies as he pushes further inside. he starts slow, like always. starts. every movement made you writhe a little. feeling over speed.
“stay still… or…” he told you quietly, trailing off, the implication steady over your relationship. he needed his own moment to adjust inside of you. so sensitive. he never masturbated, never wanted to ruin the feeling. the longer you starve, the better it feels when you finally eat. “ken… mm..” you tilted your hips up, then your face to meet his lips again, kiss him, distract him until his chest pressed flush against yours.
his palm held under your thigh, lifting it higher as he buried his head into your shoulder, just breathing. his hips move in a careful thrust up, pausing then moving forward until you let out a sharper moan by his ear.
the way you tighten around his cock is enough to make him groan lowly, spurring him on until he stops being so soft with you. “ah..” you gasp as he pulls back and then slams back into you. once, then slow.. out… all the way in to hear you moan again. he pulls down the cups of the chiffon lingerie, exposing your breasts to the cool air as your nipples harden.
his hands find your hips more comfortably, and his hold tightens to tilt them higher. nanami’s tongue darts out onto your skin, tasting the sweat on your chest as he kisses down your breast, lips sucking around the bud of your breast.
his moans vibrate through your body as he keeps thrusting in and out of you at his own, hard, but leisurely pace. like you weren’t shuddering every time he his cock slid right against your g-spot, eyes shutting tight. as you haul yourself up to your elbows to try and angle that wouldn’t make you pass out, his lips pop off your nipple and he glances up. that look was enough to make you orgasm on the spot… through his pretty blonde eyelashes, his hair messed up, strands across his eyes.
your chest heaves as his pace slows exponentially. he huffs out a weak laugh, and rests his head on your collar. he pushes his hips up into you, pressing the tip of his cock against your cervix, as your walls tighten around him. “you’re tearing me apart, honey…”
he breathes out. kento kisses you again over the soft fabric, teeth nipping at your skin. “right here.. like this… you’re perfect..” he sighs, reaching over for the camera on the bedside table. you whine and look up at him, “ken, i’m about to.. don’t stop..” you reply, swallowing thickly as you tilt your head back.
his thumb comes back down to rub your clit in circles, pressing down to make your leg twitch, as he shifts his hips, moving in and out of you carefully, picking up speed slowly. he angles the camera, catching the edge of your face and your body, centering on the connect between your legs.
the flash goes off and you tighten around him again as the photo prints, your moan drowns out the whirring. “perfect.. you are… god..” he drops the camera on the bed next to you, arms hugging around your back to arch your spine as he slams his cock into you, faster and harder.
you let out a whine as you shudder, hands clawing down his back as he groans into your neck. “fuck..!” you moan out as you cum around him, oozing around his length, the noise pornographic as he pumps in and out of you. kento turns his face, shifting up, he kisses your mouth, tasting your moans. he almost shivers as he pulls out, your cunt milking the precum from his cock, it takes a second for him to regain focus.
driving home, he shallowly pumps into you, kissing your cervix five, six times, before he groans deeply against your lips.
his cum leaks from you after a long moment of him staying inside you, mixing with yours and making a lewd squelching sound when he lifts himself onto his elbow so he doesn’t crush you. “stay there.. stay..” he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours.
he holds around your lower back as you each catch your breath, inhaling deeply and kissing him softly as he turns over, resting you on his lap, still connected. “.. i love you, so much, honey..” he says quietly. “.. you know i’ll always think you look perfect.. like this.. it’s special to me…” he sighs softly.
you smile and exhale a slight laugh, “you’re so sweet after i let you cum inside of me…” you whisper. he laughs quietly as well, his voice rough as his hands slide up your sides, under the chiffon. “hm, well, i’ve got to get you locked down somehow..” he says. “trust me, you have me..” you kiss his cheek, then his lips.
“let’s take a look at those pictures..” he smiles slightly, picking up the camera and the photos that had fallen on the sheets. you shake your head, “noo, don’t you want pretty ones? i can’t see that now..” you cover your face as he takes a good, long look at them. his erection twitches and hardens inside of you.
“sweetheart, they are gorgeous.. shit..”
“you’re just saying that, you don’t know what gorgeous means..”
“it’s in front of me.. i put a ring on it.. perfect. i’m keeping this one.”
when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko
PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and for once, katara allows herself to hope—maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.
CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.
CHAPTER WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, slight panic attack, a very bad injury (not detailed), takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
(please check the story masterlist for the story warnings.)
WC. 8.5k
masterlist : story masterlist
chapter six
a/n: the backstory is finallyyyyy here, i can't believe this shit. once again, some parts may seem 'unrealistic,' but they make sense to me, so shhhhh!
Aang hated this part of himself.
The part born from that single night a century ago, buried beneath ice and fear alongside the last remnants of his childhood.
Katara had always insisted the storm was fate. That without it, he would never have found her, never found any of them. And perhaps she was right. Too many things had aligned afterward for him to truly believe otherwise.
The war had ended because he survived that storm. The world had healed because the Avatar had returned when it needed him most.
He understood that.
He had spent years forcing himself to understand that.
Yet understanding did not erase the guilt that gnawed at his chest.
Because no matter how much peace he helped bring into the world afterward, a small part of him still remembered the boy who ran away. The boy who abandoned his people hours before they were slaughtered.
And storms always brought that boy back.
It almost amused him sometimes. The Avatar, master of all four elements, brought to unease by rain and thunder. Air, water, lightning, wind; the very forces he bent with ease could still reduce his heart to something small and unsteady the moment dark clouds gathered overhead.
Not that he had made no progress.
He had.
His friends had never allowed him to remain frozen within that fear. Over the years, the storms no longer sent him spiraling the way they once had. He had learned to breathe through them, to steady himself, to trust his own bending enough to push forward despite the memories clawing at him.
But people often forget something important.
Aang had not been alone in that storm all those years ago.
Appa had been there too.
And unlike Aang, Appa had never truly been given the comfort of understanding why it happened. He only remembered the cold, the panic, the endless sky swallowing them whole.
The sky bison had improved over the years. Aang's presence helped, his bending helped, and together they had managed smaller storms countless times before.
This was different.
At least Momo could hide beneath the shelter of Aang's cloak, small enough to tuck himself safely against his chest. Appa had no such luxury. The massive creature endured every violent gust directly, fur soaked through beneath relentless rain, while thunder cracked loudly to shake the skies.
The storm swallowed everything in its wake.
The wind screamed past them hard to sting exposed skin while rain lashed against Aang's face in freezing sheets. Even breathing had become difficult now, each inhale cut sharply by the violent air around them.
And then came the lightning.
Spirits, the lightning.
Aang could redirect rivers, part storms, bend entire currents of air to clear their path if he focused hard enough. But lightning, real lightning, remained wild even to him.
He was confident in his ability to redirect it, but even so, he could never tell where the trajectory will be set at. It was unpredictable.
The first strike shattered across the clouds so violently that Appa lurched beneath him.
Aang's stomach dropped instantly.
"Easy, Appa!" he shouted over the storm, gripping tighter on the ropes. "We'll land somewhere safe, alright?!"
But Appa barely heard him.
Thunder drowned his voice while another strike ripped through the sky, illuminating the storm in blinding white for half a second before plunging everything back into the grey.
The shift in Appa's flying became worse afterward.
He was panicked, completely unsteady in his movements, and suddenly Aang was no longer seeing the storm around him.
He hearing himself cry out.
Feeling Appa fall.
"No, no— Appa!"
The sky bison bucked violently beneath him the moment another lightning strike split overhead, terror finally overtaking whatever control had remained. Aang reached forward immediately, trying to steady him, trying to calm him, but the storm swallowed every command before it could reach him.
Then his world tilted.
Aang's scream tore through the wind as Appa suddenly dropped beneath the clouds, massive body struggling against the violent air while the storm dragged them downward faster and faster.
"Appa!"
The moment Appa dropped beneath the clouds entirely, Aang reacted on instinct.
Violent currents of air burst outward beneath them as he thrust both hands forward, forcing wind beneath Appa's massive body in desperate attempts to steady the fall. At the same time, water from the storm answered his command immediately, swirling upward around them before freezing against sections of the saddle and harness in hopes of anchoring Appa against the violent pull of the storm.
But nothing held.
The winds collapsed too quickly beneath Appa's sheer size while the rain shattered every frozen restraint almost instantly.
Another brutal drop threw Aang clean off of Appa altogether, his fingers not managing to catch the soaked leather straps before the storm ripped him away entirely.
"Appa!" he shouted again, louder this time, panic bleeding into his voice.
Momo clung violently beneath his cloak, tiny claws digging through the fabric against his chest, trembling hard enough for Aang to feel it even through the storm. Yet all of his attention remained fixed upon Appa, whose terrified cries had grown faint beneath the screaming wind around them.
Then Aang saw the ground.
The clearing below had finally become visible through the rain, though barely. Trees stretched endlessly beneath them, but several near the clearing looked wrong. They were freshly cut. their jagged trunks sharpened into dangerous points where they had splintered unevenly from recent logging.
Aang's stomach dropped.
He forced more air downward, harder this time, powerful enough that the wind around them briefly split apart beneath the pressure. The winds caught Appa for half a second before another violent crack of lightning exploded overhead.
Appa jerked sharply sideways in terror, and suddenly they were falling again.
Aang's tattoos ignited before he consciously realized what was happening.
White light erupted through the storm as the Avatar State surged through him violently, illuminating the rain around them while the winds below twisted upward with force. The storm itself seemed to recoil for one fleeting moment beneath the sudden power pouring from him.
Aang reached desperately toward Appa, every current of air rushing downward beneath the sky bison in one final attempt to stop the fall before impact.
But he was too late.
Appa hit the ground first.
A horrifying roar tore through the storm the instant one of the sharpened tree trunks drove clean through Appa's leg.
The Avatar State vanished immediately.
"Appa!"
Pure panic overtook everything else.
Aang twisted violently midair, abandoning the winds meant to soften his own landing as he reached toward Appa instead, horror flooding through him at the sight of blood already staining the rain-soaked ground beneath the sky bison.
But the earth was already rushing too close beneath him.
Desperation seized him as air exploded beneath his body seconds before impact, forcing the worst of the fall away while violent currents twisted him sideways just enough to avoid the sharpened trunks surrounding the clearing.
Even then, the landing remained brutal.
His body slammed harshly against the soaked earth before momentum sent him skidding violently across mud and shattered branches. Pain burst sharply across the corner of his forehead the moment his head struck something solid beneath the rain.
The world tilted sickeningly around him as the storm continued roaring overhead.
Appa's cries echoed somewhere nearby, weaker and pained enough to claw straight through Aang's chest.
He tried to move. He really tried to reach him.
His fingers barely dragged across the mud before his strength gave out beneath him entirely.
The last things Aang heard before darkness consumed him were Appa's agonized cries...and Momo's frantic screeching somewhere close by.
"It— it is the Avatar!"
The guard's stunned exclamation cut through the lingering drizzle, confirming the suspicion Prince Jinhai had arrived with hours earlier.
The moment the brilliant blue light had erupted beyond the mountains during the storm, he had already known.
There were few things within the world capable of illuminating the skies themselves in such a manner.
And only one man capable of glowing like the heavens had briefly split open.
The storm had delayed investigation for several hours. Even now, rain still lingered stubbornly across the forest in a thin silver drizzle while soldiers moved carefully through mud and broken branches surrounding the clearing.
The aftermath itself looked devastating.
Several trees had been uprooted entirely while others remained shattered where violent winds had torn through. Deep trenches scarred the soaked earth, evidence of air currents powerful enough to force even massive objects aside.
And at the center of it all lay the Avatar.
Nearby, the enormous sky bison let out weak, pained groans from where one of the broken tree trunks remained lodged through his leg, the wound severe enough that several soldiers had wisely refused approaching him too closely despite his weakened state.
"It seems Your Highness was correct," one of the commanders remarked cautiously. "How do you wish to proceed?"
Advisor Shuren approached shortly afterward, a dark umbrella held carefully above himself while rain continued dripping steadily.
Prince Jinhai remained silent for several moments.
His attention lingered first upon the unconscious Avatar sprawled across the mud, then toward the wounded sky bison whose cries had softened into exhausted rumbling now.
Finally, he spoke.
"I shall entrust the Avatar's hospitality to you, Advisor Shuren."
The older man inclined his head respectfully.
"Are you certain, Your Highness?"
"The palace cannot spare its physicians at present," Jinhai answered calmly. "Your estate possesses the better resources for immediate treatment, and the sky bison will require far more space than the royal grounds can presently provide."
Rainwater slid quietly from the edge of his robes while servants nearby hurried to prepare stretchers beneath the soldiers' orders.
"Have your physicians brought here immediately," the prince continued. "Ensure both the Avatar and his companion receive proper care. Once the Avatar has recovered sufficiently, I shall pay my respects personally."
"Of course, Your Highness."
Then, after a brief pause, Shuren added smoothly—
"You may also join my daughter for tea during your visit. I imagine such company would greatly please her."
That finally earned a faint trace of acknowledgment from the prince.
"Perhaps I shall." Jinhai answered simply.
Not another word followed, he merely turned and made his way back toward the waiting ostrich horse carriage stationed near the forest road, attendants immediately moving to shield him from the rain while soldiers resumed preparing the unconscious Avatar for transport beneath Shuren's supervision.
The first thing Aang became aware of was warmth.
Not the comforting warmth of sunlight or Appa's fur beneath his cheek during long flights, but something more unpleasant. It was humid, stifling almost. It clung against his skin while the faint scent of herbs and incense lingered thickly within the air around him.
Then came the pain, a sharp throb pulsed along the corner of his forehead while the rest of his body ached in waves that made even breathing feel difficult.
Aang winced faintly before forcing his eyes open.
For several seconds, nothing made sense. His sight was blurry, eyelids seemingly stuck together as if he hadn't opened them for a decade.
Dark wooden ceilings stretched high above him while pale curtains shifted gently near an open window somewhere nearby. The room itself looked expensive, furnished with carved wood, painted screens, and silk drapery that did not resemble any Earth Kingdom inn he had ever stayed within before.
He blinked slowly.
Then his memory returned all at once.
The storm.
The fall.
Appa.
Aang jolted upright immediately.
"Appa!"
Pain exploded through his head so violently that his vision blurred again, yet panic had already overtaken reason by then. He barely noticed the cloth slipping from his forehead before hurried footsteps rushed toward him from somewhere within the room.
"Avatar Aang, please—"
"Where's Appa?!" he demanded breathlessly, his voice coming out in a rasp as it burned from straining.
He tried to push himself fully from the bed despite the dizziness crashing through him.
"He got hurt— there was a tree and I—"
"Please calm yourself."
Two physicians quickly moved to steady him before he could properly stand, their voices calm even though they were shocked that he had finally awakened again.
"You suffered a severe head injury, Avatar."
"I don't care about that right now, where's Appa?!"
The panic in his voice came out harsher than intended.
"He was bleeding, I saw him get hurt—"
"The sky bison survived."
The reassurance arrived swiftly, making him halt mid-sentence.
Aang stared at the older physician for half a second.
"He's alive?"
"Yes."
Relief struck him so hard his shoulders nearly sagged beneath it.
His hand rose shakily toward his forehead to steady himself, to ground his thoughts, but instead of meeting only feverish skin and sweat, his fingers caught within unfamiliar strands of hair.
The texture startled him immediately, damp and overgrown enough that he could notice how dense it was.
His brows furrowed faintly as his hand dragged lower, fingertips brushing across rough stubble scattered unevenly along his jaw and chin.
Aang froze.
Spirits.
Just how long had he been lying here?
Before he could question it, however, another figure entered the room.
The physicians stepped aside almost immediately.
Strangely, Aang recognized the man vaguely.
But it wasn't from memory exactly, but they came in hazy fragments of the past few days drifting through his fevered mind.
He looked a lot older than him, dressed in refined Earth Kingdom robes dark enough to border solemnity, his composure carrying the unmistakable restraint that he observed in Zuko.
"My name is Shuren," the man introduced calmly.
"I am pleased to see you awake at last, Avatar Aang."
Aang blinked at him, not understanding what to respond when the man had covered his side of the introduction as well. So, he simply asked the question that had been interrupted on his entrance.
"How long was I out?"
"A little over two weeks."
Silence followed immediately afterward. Aang genuinely thought he had misheard him.
"What?"
"You suffered a concussion during the fall," Shuren explained patiently while one of the physicians resumed adjusting the cloth upon Aang's forehead.
"The fever developed shortly afterward. Though you remained unconscious for most of that time, there were periods during the last several days where you briefly woke, spoke very little, and fell unconscious once more."
Aang barely processed half the explanation.
"Two weeks?" he repeated again, horrified now. "Appa's been hurt for two weeks?!"
"The sky bison? The wound to his leg was severe," Shuren admitted. "However, treatment was administered immediately upon your arrival."
Aang shut his eyes briefly at that, a shaky breath escaping him.
The guilt returned instantly, having been so helpless during the storm, he felt like that boy once again.
"I need to see him."
"You require rest first."
"No, I really don't," Aang answered quickly. "I'm fine now, I just need to see him—"
"You are not fine."
The statement interrupted him gently, though firmly enough that even he settled down.
Shuren approached closer, not in an intimidating manner, yet arguing against him felt strangely childish despite Aang's urgency.
"Your fever has only recently lowered," he continued. "And my physicians have informed me your head injury appears to be healing properly, which proves true now that you have finally remained conscious for longer than several minutes."
Then after a brief pause, he added, "You will be of little help to your companion should you collapse beside him."
Aang hated how reasonable that sounded. Still, the panic refused settling entirely.
"How is he?" he asked quietly this time.
Shuren's expression softened faintly.
"My daughter has personally overseen much of your sky bison's care in your absence. His condition remains stable, though recovery will require time."
That eased something inside Aang, and although something dropped in his gut at the thought of not seeing Appa, he chose to trust this man.
"Thank you, really." he said quietly, sincerity settling easily into the words despite his exhaustion.
Aang slowly settled back against the pillows, when another thought struck him suddenly.
His head lifted again despite the ache pulsing violently behind his eyes.
"Wait," he said quickly. "Where's Momo?"
A brief silence followed and Shuren regarded him with faint confusion before answering,
"We did not discover another person alongside you, Avatar."
"No, no— not a person," Aang corrected quickly despite the throbbing pain worsening across his skull.
"He's a lemur. Small, white fur, wings— well, not actual wings, but kind of—" He cut himself off abruptly as another jolt of pain travelled across his head.
"You...really didn't find him?"
Regret briefly crossed one of the physicians' expressions before Shuren answered instead.
"I apologize, Avatar Aang, but when my men arrived at the site, only you and your sky bison were found within the clearing."
The relief Aang had felt moments ago tightened painfully all over again.
Momo was clever and fast.
He had escaped dangerous situations before without difficulty.
Yet none of those reassurances truly settled against the image trapped inside Aang's mind; rain swallowing the skies whole while Appa fell screaming beneath the storm.
His chest tightened.
"He's...probably alright," Aang murmured quietly after a moment, though the words sounded more like something he was forcing himself to believe.
"Momo...always finds...his way back somehow." His words slurred now, no longer able to resist the throbbing pain around his head.
"We shall continue searching the surrounding forests," Shuren assured him calmly.
"For now, however, you must prioritize your recovery."
This time, Aang lacked the strength to argue.
The exhaustion had begun settling far heavier into his body now that the panic had ebbed. His thoughts felt sluggish beneath the throbbing pain while even remaining upright had started requiring effort.
Slowly, he sank deeper against the bedding.
"Can I see Appa...when I wake up?" he asked quietly, the sentence slurring faintly toward the end beneath his fatigue.
"Yes," Shuren answered. "Once you are capable of standing without collapsing, I shall personally ensure it."
That earned the faintest trace of relief from Aang before the exhaustion finally overtook him fully.
The room blurred gradually around him while the physicians stepped closer once more, their voices growing distant, the heaviness dragging him back toward unconsciousness.
"My lord, he truly should not be exerting himself so greatly," one of the physicians murmured quietly nearby.
"I agree," Shuren replied evenly. "Inform me immediately once he wakes again, and ensure proper meals are prepared for him this time."
Aang barely heard the rest.
The following days passed slowly, though far kinder than the first.
The fever eventually faded completely, leaving behind only lingering exhaustion and the dull ache still resting at the corner of Aang's forehead whenever he moved too quickly.
The physicians remained irritatingly strict throughout his recovery, refusing to allow him beyond the manor halls until he could stand and walk without nearly collapsing back onto the floor afterward.
Aang hated every second of it.
He had never been particularly gifted at remaining still.
Especially not while Appa remained injured somewhere beyond his reach.
By the fifth morning, however, the world had finally stopped tilting every time he stood upright, and that alone became enough for him to immediately begin demanding permission to see Appa properly.
The proper bath he had finally been allowed the this morning, along with the freshly shaved stubble and newly shorn hair had returned enough familiarity to his reflection that he almost felt like himself again.
One of the servants eventually guided him toward a quieter section of the manor where Advisor Shuren had apparently been handling his morning affairs. Aang found the older man seated within an open pavilion overlooking the estate gardens, steam rising faintly from the untouched tea resting beside him.
The rainstorms had long since passed.
Sunlight stretched warmly across the stone pathways and flowering trees surrounding the estate, the entire manor looking far calmer than the chaos Aang remembered waking into days earlier.
Shuren rose politely once Aang approached.
"It is good to see you walking properly, Avatar Aang. You have regained the color of your skin."
"I'm just glad my head finally stopped trying to split itself open." Aang admitted honestly, rubbing lightly at the corner of his forehead before getting straight to the point.
"Can I see Appa now?"
A faint trace of amusement crossed Shuren's features at the lack of formalities.
"I had assumed that would be your first request."
"How is he? Really." Aang asked quickly afterward.
Shuren motioned for him to walk alongside him through the gardens as he answered.
"The wound was severe," Shuren admitted.
"Had my men arrived any later, I do not believe your companion would have survived the blood loss." He paused briefly before continuing.
"The injury to his leg will prevent him from flying for some time. However, you may trust my physicians to oversee both his healing and rehabilitation with utmost care."
Then, more quietly, he added, "My daughter has also overseen much of his care herself these past weeks."
Relief visibly softened something within Aang at hearing all of Shuren's explanation.
"He's really okay?"
"He is recovering well."
Aang smiled then, genuine enough that exhaustion momentarily disappeared from him.
"I seriously don't know how I'll ever repay you for all this."
Shuren merely smiled faintly in return.
"It is an honor to aid the Avatar," he answered calmly. "For all you have done for this world, consider any debt already repaid."
That only made Aang feel guiltier somehow.
Still, he nodded gratefully before beginning to step away, taking a guess at where Appa had been kept.
"Although..."
Shuren's voice halted him midway.
Aang glanced back immediately.
"Yes?"
The older man turned to face him, folding his hands neatly behind his back before continuing with complete composure.
"If you truly wish to repay your dues, then there is one matter I would ask of you."
"Oh, sure," Aang answered easily. "What is it?"
"I implore you to take the hand of my daughter."
Pure silence followed his words as The Avatar stared at him.
Aang blinked once.
Then twice.
"Your daughter's hand..." he repeated slowly. "You mean...marry her?"
"Yes."
Shuren sounded perfectly calm saying it too, which made the conversation even stranger.
"I understand you have yet to meet her, though I assure you she is a lovely young woman." He continued smoothly.
Aang genuinely did not know how to respond.
His brain seemed to stall somewhere between confusion and panic while every instinct inside him screamed at him not to accidentally offend the man who had just saved both him and Appa.
"Oh."
Brilliant response.
"I'm...really not looking to get married," he admitted carefully.
To his surprise, Shuren simply chuckled softly at that.
"It is quite alright. I merely assumed that, given your age, you might already be considering a wife. It seems I was mistaken."
Given his age?
Aang nearly frowned.
He had barely entered his twenties.
As much as he wanted to point that out, however, something told him arguing about age expectations with what Aang was assuming was Earth Kingdom royalty probably would not improve the conversation.
Instead, he settled for awkward politeness.
"Uh...sorry?"
Shuren only smiled again, entirely unbothered.
"My daughter should presently be within her boudoir," he said instead. "She shall guide you to your sky bison personally. My ushers will gladly escort you there."
Aang nodded quickly, perhaps a little too relieved for the conversation to be ending.
"Right. Thanks."
And with that, he followed after the waiting ushers while trying very hard not to think about the fact that he had just been offered a political marriage before even properly getting out of bed.
Morning still clung stubbornly to you despite the late hour.
You lounged lazily against the curved seat resting within your boudoir, the shape of the chair supporting your back so comfortably that it only threatened to lull you back toward sleep.
Though you had already bathed earlier, the warm water had done little to erase the lingering drowsiness weighing behind your eyes.
So instead, you remained seated within your dressing chamber still clad in your pale inner robes while your maids busied themselves around you.
Soft conversation drifted easily throughout the room alongside the faint scent of jasmine tea steeping nearby. One of the girls carefully poured fresh tea into your cup before placing the kettle back upon the low table situated in front of your lounge chair.
"My lady, you truly should be dressed by now."
"It is nearly noon," another added immediately afterward. "Lord Shuren will certainly scold us all if he discovers you still lingering here half asleep."
"Yes, and you must stop remaining outside your chambers so late into the evenings." Meilin continued while folding silks nearby.
"Your sleep has been dreadful all week because of it."
The scolding continued softly around you, though none of it carried genuine irritation. They were all young women, only slightly older than yourself, yet close enough to feel more familiar than servants within the privacy of your chambers.
You accepted the tea with a quiet word of thanks before sinking further into the chair, taking a slow sip while warmth spread pleasantly through your hands.
"My lady, are you listening to us at all?" Lian pressed knowingly.
"Yes." you answered easily. "But the dear sky bison has been such lovely company these past several evenings. I find myself rather enjoying our time together."
"It is quite adorable," Nari agreed immediately.
"It truly." you sighed softly. "Poor thing. To suffer such a terrible injury..."
A faint smile touched Suyin's face from where she sorted through your jewelry nearby.
"It seems you have grown rather attached to him."
"I have." You admitted without shame before a teasing smirk curved faintly along your mouth.
"Do you suppose the boy would allow me to keep him if I asked politely?"
The reaction around the room was immediate.
"That is the Avatar you speak of!" Meilin exclaimed. "And did you truly just refer to him as a boy? He is older than all of us."
You blinked.
"He is?" Genuine surprise crossed your face. "He looked terribly young when I caught a glimpse of him."
"Well," Nari began carefully, "he is technically over one hundred years old."
"What?"
All four girls stared at you with varying degrees of disbelief.
"My lady..." Lian sighed patiently. "The Avatar disappeared one hundred years ago and remained frozen until 10 years ago. Surely you remember this."
"Oh."
You paused briefly, genuinely attempting to recall the details.
"Right. I completely forgot that part occurred before he ended the war." You murmured.
Suyin looked horrified.
"You are astonishingly ignorant regarding history."
"Enough with the scolding already." You complained while lifting your cup once more. "Allow me to enjoy my tea in peace."
While laughter and quiet complaints continued within the room, elsewhere in the manor Aang followed silently behind the two ushers guiding him through the estate halls.
The place was enormous.
Even after spending time within the Fire Nation palace during the war, Aang still found himself impressed by the sheer scale of the manor surrounding him.
At some point, a realization suddenly struck him.
He actually had no idea who these people were.
Were they nobility?
Royalty?
Rich tea enthusiasts with very concerningly large homes?
Before he could properly settle on an answer, the ushers finally stopped outside a pair of tall wooden doors.
Then, to Aang's utter confusion, both men simply gestured toward the entrance before immediately turning to leave.
Aang stared after them.
"...Wait, what?"
Neither answered.
They simply continued walking away down the corridor while leaving him entirely alone outside the room.
For several awkward seconds, Aang stood there unsure what exactly he was supposed to do now.
Finally, he knocked.
Inside the dressing chamber, both you and your maids lifted your attention toward the doors instinctively, waiting for the usual announcement to follow.
None came.
One of the girls frowned faintly.
"Shall I see who it is, my lady?"
Before she could step away from behind your chair, however, you lazily raised your hand to stop her.
"Leave it," you answered simply before taking another slow sip of tea. "Had it been important, they would have announced themselves properly."
"Perhaps it is the Avatar himself," Nari suggested suddenly, her voice brightening at the thought. "Maybe he has come to thank my lady for caring for his sky bison."
Meilin nearly lit up beside her.
"He is rather handsome, do you not think?"
Suyin let out a quiet sound of agreement while Lian remained composed near the vanity, still patiently waiting for you to finish your tea so she could finally begin dressing you properly.
"Yes!" Nari whispered excitedly. "Even the lack of hair somehow does not take away from his—"
The chamber doors suddenly swung open.
The youngest maid nearly choked on her own words.
Aang stepped inside with complete innocence, entirely unaware he had just committed several forms of social violence.
In his defense, no one had answered.
To Aang, that simply meant perhaps they had not heard the knocking.
And considering he had already spent the past week trapped in bed worrying himself sick over Appa, patience had not exactly remained his strongest quality this morning.
The moment he entered, silence consumed the room instantly.
Nari went pale.
All four maids immediately lowered themselves into respectful bows at the sight of the Avatar standing within the doorway.
You, however, remained perfectly seated.
Only shock crossed your features at first, though offense overtook it quickly enough afterward.
"Oh— hey," Aang began awkwardly, suddenly far less confident beneath the atmosphere awaiting him inside.
"Are you Shuren's...daughter...?"
The sentence weakened noticeably toward the end once he properly registered the expression staring back at him.
Slowly, you lowered your teacup onto the table beside you.
"How dare you enter a lady's chambers so abruptly?"
Aang blinked.
"Oh! Sorry! It's just— your father told me to come find you."
A quiet breath escaped you then, one carrying such profound disbelief that Aang instinctively straightened once he heard it.
You leaned further back against the lounge chair afterward, studying him openly without attempting to hide your displeasure.
"This is a dressing chamber." You informed him calmly. "Have you no shame barging inside so rudely?"
"My lady," Lian interrupted carefully before Aang could answer, "you must not address him so harshly. He remains both the Avatar and a guest recovering within this manor."
You ignored her entirely.
Meanwhile, Aang looked genuinely lost now.
"I knocked," he defended weakly. "But nobody answered."
"Because you were denied an audience."
The statement came smoothly from your lips while you continued holding his stare without the slightest hint of intimidation.
"No one enters or leaves this room without my permission."
Aang opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
"Oh, I'm really sorry." He murmured awkwardly.
And honestly, he sounded sincere enough that the younger maids nearly pitied him.
Slowly, he stepped backward toward the doorway, clearly intending to remove himself from whatever noble disaster he had apparently wandered into.
Then your voice stopped him again.
"Did you not hear me?"
Aang paused immediately.
"What?"
You tilted your chin upward slightly against the cushions supporting you, composure returning fully now that his panic had become visible.
"I said," you repeated calmly, "no one enters or leaves without my permission."
There was something deeply imperious in the way you said it.
It wasn't cruel.
You were merely accustomed to obedience.
Aang genuinely did not know what the correct response to that was supposed to be.
"...Okay?"
"Come closer."
The command arrived softly yet it somehow sounded even more authoritative.
Aang hesitated for half a second before awkwardly obeying anyway, carefully approaching further into the room while the maids silently watched the entire exchange unfold with barely concealed horror.
You studied him for another brief moment before finally leaning forward from your chair, reaching for the kettle still resting atop the low table beside you.
With calm precision, you flipped one of the untouched cups upright before pouring fresh tea into it, steam curling softly between you both.
"My apologies," you started smoothly while setting the kettle aside once more. "As you can see, I am not appropriately dressed to receive company. Your abrupt entrance startled me somewhat."
Only then did Aang properly register your attire.
His eyes widened slightly before darting elsewhere almost immediately.
"Oh— sorry," he muttered quickly. "I can come back later."
"No, please. It is quite alright." you answered at once, rising gracefully from your seat before he could retreat again.
The thin inner robes shifted softly around you while you approached him, teacup balanced carefully atop its accompanying saucer. You stopped only a short distance away before lifting the offering toward him.
"Tea?" You asked gently, the first genuine smile of the morning finally touching your features.
The sudden warmth in your demeanor caught Aang entirely off guard.
"Oh. Uh...thanks."
He accepted the cup carefully, though he still seemed incapable of properly looking at you now that he had realized what sort of room he had barged into.
Once the tea had left your hands, you stepped back politely before joining your hands, one palm covering your fist as you inclined your head in a small formal bow.
"Avatar Aang, It is an honor." You greeted properly this time.
Aang awkwardly nodded in return, inclining his head as well, still clutching both cup and saucer oddly close to himself.
"Did my father truly send for you?"
"Yes, I needed to talk to you about something." He answered quickly.
The way he held the teacup near his face almost resembled someone using a shield, and you almost chuckled once you realized he was using it to cover your attire from his line of sight.
"I see."
Then, without hesitation, you turned toward your maids.
"Leave us."
You waited for a moment but none of them moved.
Slowly, you looked back toward them instead, finding the three younger girls visibly unsettled while Lian alone remained composed beneath your attention.
"We shall not leave, my lady," she answered respectfully. "You remain improperly dressed at present. It would be inappropriate for you to receive a man alone under such circumstances."
Then after the briefest pause, she added carefully, "We shall remain present to avoid any future misunderstandings."
At that, your attention briefly lowered toward your attire once more before a quiet sigh escaped you.
"Suit yourselves."
Aang, meanwhile, looked increasingly uncertain regarding every possible aspect of this interaction.
The irritation faded from your features quickly enough, replaced once more by practiced hospitality.
"Come," You said lightly while reaching for the sleeve of his robes. "Have a seat."
Aang nearly startled at the sudden contact before allowing himself to be guided toward the lounge chair you had occupied earlier.
"Please do not mind me." You continued while moving toward the far side of the room where an embroidered partition stood waiting near the vanity.
"Come, ladies."
The maids immediately followed after you.
Aang watched them disappear behind the screen before hurriedly looking away again the moment he noticed the pale inner robes you had been wearing moments earlier slipping carelessly to the floor beside the partition.
Spirits.
What kind of conversation was this becoming?
He could hear the 'strict maid' (as he titled her in his mind) softly scolding you for so underdressed before company, though her reprimands only earned a quiet fit of laughter from you as you insisted he looked far too flustered to dare glance your way regardless, and that he would sooner pluck his own eyes out than look your way.
His eye twitched faintly at the exchange, irritation prickling through him at the feeling that you were making light of his presence, though he forced himself not to form a complete opinion of you from this interaction alone, especially after hearing repeatedly from Shuren that you had been taking care of Appa.
Almost as if you had heard his mind—
"Have you come seeking your sky bison?"
Your voice drifted toward him from behind the partition while soft rustling sounds filled the room afterward, silks shifting gently while the maids began dressing you properly.
Immediately, Aang remembered why he had come here in the first place.
"Oh— yeah," he answered quickly. "Can I please see him? I just...need to make sure he's really okay."
despite not seeing his face, you could feel the worry radiating off him from his voice alone.
"Yes, of course." You answered gently enough that even hidden behind the partition, Aang could hear the smile threading through your words.
"That adorable creature has been terribly eager to see you again as well."
Aang lowered his eyes toward the tea in his hands.
"I have too." He admitted softly.
The next several minutes passed in relative silence while your maids continued dressing you.
Meanwhile, Aang sat awkwardly upon the edge of the lounge chair quietly sipping tea while attempting very hard not to think about where he was looking, where he was sitting, or why every noble person he had met within this manor spoke as though they belonged inside ancient scrolls.
Honestly, he missed Sokka.
At least Sokka would have known how to survive whatever this was.
Eventually, movement stirred once more from behind the partition before you finally stepped back into view.
And suddenly Aang understood why he had mistaken this manor for royalty.
The silks draped elegantly around you spoke immediately of status, from the careful embroidery woven through the fabric to the jade ornaments resting lightly against your wrists and hair. Even without introduction, royalty clung naturally to you.
"Come, I shall take you to him." You said simply.
You moved immediately toward the doors, clearly expecting him to follow.
"Your hair, my lady!" Lian called after you in alarm.
"I shall return later to have it arranged properly." You answered without slowing once.
And despite still not fully understanding what had just happened during the last ten or so minutes, Aang found himself following after you anyway.
The manor halls stretched quietly around you while servants moved carefully out of your path the moment they noticed your approach.
Aang followed only half a pace behind, still holding the empty teacup one of the maids had apparently forgotten to retrieve from him.
For a while, the silence remained comfortable enough.
Then Aang finally spoke.
"Um...I'm really sorry for disturbing you earlier," he admitted awkwardly while keeping pace beside you. "I probably should've asked your father to send somebody else instead."
"It is quite alright," you answered smoothly without slowing your steps.
"Your sky bison remains under careful protection. At present, only authorized physicians, my father, and myself possess permission to enter his recovery chambers."
Relief visibly softened something within him at hearing that.
"Oh. Thank goodness."
"Since my father remains occupied with court matters most days, he simply requested that I receive you in his stead." You continued.
Aang rubbed lightly at the back of his neck.
"I don't think he realized you were...busy."
A faint breath escaped you then, suspiciously close to amusement.
"No, I believe he understood perfectly well." You corrected calmly.
That finally confused him enough to pull his full attention away from thoughts of Appa.
"Then why would he—"
You stopped walking abruptly.
Aang nearly walked directly into you before awkwardly catching himself a step behind.
Slowly, you turned toward him.
"Did...my father ask you to marry me?"
The question struck him with such force that his eyes widened immediately.
"...Uhh...Yeah."
There truly was no graceful response to that conversation, apparently.
"But I'm really not looking to marry anyone," he added quickly afterward, the words rushing from him with enough panic that it almost sounded like he feared offending you personally.
To his surprise, your expression shifted faintly at that answer.
You seemed annoyed.
"You should have simply informed him you were already betrothed." You murmured.
Aang blinked.
Well.
That would have worked.
Except it also would have been a lie.
"...I guess."
Only then do you notice him still holding the teacup, pulling your brows in confusion as you took it from him, and passed it off to a passing maid.
You exhaled softly before continuing down the corridor once more.
"In his mind, you have not truly rejected the proposal." You explained while Aang hurried to catch up beside you again. "Which means he shall continue attempting to persuade you otherwise."
"What? But he didn't even seem upset." Aang stared openly now.
"Of course not." You sounded almost offended he expected otherwise.
"My father would never openly display disappointment during negotiation. That is precisely why he sent you to my chambers instead."
Realization slowly dawned across Aang's face.
"...Oh."
"He likely assumed your opinion would change after seeing me."
The bluntness of the statement nearly made Aang choke on absolutely nothing.
You merely rolled your eyes lightly.
"My father has always possessed a deeply opportunistic nature. Frankly, I had already expected this conversation on your arrival to our estate."
After a pause, you quietly added—
"I suppose such instincts become necessary for men in positions such as his."
Aang remained thoughtful while you resumed leading him through the estate halls.
"Wait," he said suddenly. "Positions such as his...?"
You glanced toward him.
"Are you... royalty?"
You stopped again.
This time genuine disbelief crossed your expression.
"Spirits, no." You looked at him almost incredulously.
"Do you truly not know where you are, Avatar Aang? Did my father not inform you?"
Aang awkwardly shook his head.
Honestly, between Appa, the concussion, the fever, and the marriage proposal, geographical orientation had not exactly remained his priority recently.
Without another word, you motioned for him to follow before approaching one of the enormous open archways lining the corridor. Sunlight spilled warmly through the opening while the kingdom beyond stretched beautifully across the mountainside below.
Then you pointed toward the massive palace overlooking the city in the distance.
Even from here, its scale remained unmistakable.
"That is the Royal Palace of Hujiang." You informed him.
Aang stared openly, eyes subtly lighting up.
Huge was honestly an understatement.
"That is where you would have been received under ordinary circumstances," you continued.
"However, His Majesty's health has not been favorable these past months. Therefore, Prince Jinhai entrusted your care to my father instead."
"Ohhh." Aang murmured slowly, finally beginning to piece things together.
"So your father—"
"Is the Royal Advisor."
"And you're...a noble?"
"Precisely."
You inclined your head once, looking back at him.
"I am also betrothed to the Crown Prince."
That earned his attention fully, turning his head to look at you instead of the Palace.
"...Seriously?"
You looked back toward the distant palace briefly.
"That shall become my residence eventually, once the marriage is finalized." You said softly.
Aang stared at you for another moment before a smile suddenly broke across his face.
"So you're gonna be queen?"
"Queen consort," you corrected lightly.
"Well, you already kinda look like one." He admitted honestly, a soft smile gracing his face.
Something gentler touched your expression then.
"I suppose I am halfway there." You humored him, smiling back at him.
For several seconds, silence settled comfortably between you both again before Aang frowned.
"Wait a second."
You glanced toward him.
"If you're already marrying the prince...then why did your father ask me to marry you?"
The confusion sounded genuine and it nearly amused you.
"As I said before, my father is an opportunist. Should he perceive a future more advantageous for me elsewhere, he would not hesitate pursuing it." You answered patiently.
"But you'd already have an entire kingdom, that sounds way bigger than marrying an Air Nomad." Aang pointed out.
You smiled faintly at that.
"Not merely an Air Nomad, The Avatar who ended the Hundred Year War." You corrected softly.
You waited a moment before you continued, hesitating from speaking the truth.
"I imagine he finds greater prestige within that title."
Aang frowned thoughtfully at the floor beneath him for several seconds.
That honestly felt...strange.
Uncomfortable too.
You noticed immediately.
"Do not trouble yourself over it excessively." You said before turning away from the archway once more.
"Come. Your sky bison has been waiting quite patiently for you."
By the time you both reached the recovery chambers, the guards stationed outside immediately straightened at your approach before pushing open the enormous wooden doors without question.
Warm air carrying the scent of herbs drifted outward at once.
The room itself had clearly once served another purpose entirely before being converted into temporary medical quarters large enough to accommodate a sky bison. Thick mattresses had been layered together across most of the floor for comfort while clean sheets, medicine trays, and water basins lined the surrounding walls.
And at the center of it all rested Appa.
The massive creature lay carefully across the bedding with his injured leg wrapped thoroughly in fresh bandages, layers upon layers of pale cloth securing the wound beneath.
The moment Aang saw him, everything else disappeared.
"Appa!"
He rushed forward immediately before anyone could properly react, throwing himself against the sky bison's enormous head with enough force that several attendants flinched briefly nearby.
Appa answered at once.
A deep groan rumbled through the room while the bison nudged himself weakly against Aang despite his injuries, chuffing loudly in clear relief at finally seeing him again.
For one brief moment, Aang nearly broke apart entirely.
You noticed it.
His tears.
Quietly, you turned away, granting him the dignity of pretending not to have seen it.
While Aang remained occupied with Appa, you approached the caretakers gathered nearby and began quietly questioning them regarding his condition. The physician presently overseeing Appa's treatment quickly updated you on the most recent changes while attendants continued preparing fresh medicine beside them.
A few moments later, once Aang had finally managed to compose himself somewhat, the physician carefully approached him instead.
"Avatar Aang, If I may speak with you regarding your companion's recovery." The older man greeted respectfully.
Aang reluctantly loosened his hold on Appa, stepping away from him to converse with the physician.
Meanwhile, you drifted closer toward Appa yourself.
The sky bison immediately lowered his head toward you the moment you approached, large brown eyes brightening in recognition.
A faint smile touched your face.
"So your name is Appa." You murmured while gently patting the fur along his head.
"You truly are adorable."
Appa answered with another pleased chuff before nudging himself against your hand hard enough to wrinkle your long sleeves.
A soft laugh escaped you.
"And there it is again, that dreadful noise you make whenever someone pets you." You said lightly
Appa groaned louder in response and you laughed quietly this time.
"There now. You are terribly spoiled already." You soothed while continuing to stroke his fur.
Several feet away, Aang found himself distracted despite the physician actively explaining Appa's condition beside him.
From what it appeared, Appa had already decided he adored you.
"It will require at least three months before he may safely place proper weight upon the leg. Flying afterward shall depend entirely upon how well the muscles recover during rehabilitation." The physician continued carefully.
That finally pulled Aang's attention back properly.
"...Three months." He repeated with concern.
"I am afraid so."
Aang nodded slowly.
"I understand."
Once the explanation had concluded, he immediately returned toward Appa again, though this time his attention lingered upon you as well.
"Your father informed me you've been helping take care of him. Thank you for that." He said sincerely, hand moving against Appa's fur.
You glanced toward him before shaking your head lightly.
"My father exaggerates greatly, I simply come here each evening and do this."
Your hand resumed stroking Appa's head again in demonstration.
Almost immediately, Appa let out another delighted groan while pressing closer into your touch.
Aang stared openly as you only smiled at the bison.
"And then he makes that ridiculous sound," You continued with clear amusement threading through your voice.
"And then I leave."
Aang could not help smiling slightly at that.
"He really likes you."
"So it would seem."
"Seriously," he added more quietly, sincerity fully evident now.
"Thank you for keeping him company while I couldn't."
"There is no need to thank me so deeply." You replied softly before finally stepping away from Appa's side.
For a brief moment, you disappeared behind the enormous stretch of the sky bison's body entirely before returning once more with something carefully balanced within your hands.
The moment Aang recognized it, his entire expression changed.
"My staff!"
You held it out toward him gently.
"It appears this object offered Appa far greater comfort than I ever could." You admitted.
"He became noticeably calmer whenever it was placed near him."
Aang accepted the staff immediately, fingers tightening around the familiar wood with visible relief.
"Oh, Appa..." He murmured before leaning forward once more to wrap his arms around the sky bison's head again.
Appa answered with another low rumble while nudging closer into both Aang and the glider together.
For several moments, you simply allowed the reunion to continue uninterrupted. Eventually, however, practicality returned to the conversation.
"So..." you began calmly, "what do you intend to do now, Avatar Aang?"
He looked toward you.
"You may trust us to continue caring for Appa properly. You are free to visit him whenever you wish, and once he has fully recovered, you may depart together." You explained.
Aang blinked.
"Leave Appa here?"
"Yes." You inclined your head lightly.
"Though personally, I believe you still require additional rest yourself. However, once your strength has returned fully, I imagine your duties elsewhere shall demand your attention again."
At that, something dimmed faintly within him.
"Right. Yeah... I'll probably have to leave eventually..." He answered quieter this time.
Then suddenly, his expression shifted again.
"Momo!"
The name burst from him so abruptly that even Appa let out a startled noise.
Aang immediately turned back toward the sky bison.
"Appa, do you know where Momo went?"
Appa huffed softly in response, sounding almost apologetic.
Your brows furrowed slightly.
"I apologize," you interrupted gently. "Momo is...?"
"He's a lemur. My other companion. He was with us during the storm, but nobody's seen him since." Aang explained quickly
Understanding settled across your features then.
"Right. The lemur. I did hear my father sent out a search for it, but it proved to be fruitless. Although, I believe he likely remains somewhere within the forests surrounding the crash site."
"Oh...they didn't find him..." Aang repeated, worry heavy within his voice.
"Momo's tough, but..." He glanced downward briefly while gripping the staff tighter within his hands.
"I can't just leave without knowing he is safe."
The room quieted save for the distant shifting of attendants continuing their work nearby.
You studied him silently for a moment.
For all the titles attached to him, for all the stories surrounding the Avatar, he looked painfully young standing there worrying over two injured companions with absolute solemnity written across his face.
Then, before truly thinking much of it, you spoke.
"I would be more than happy to assist you in searching for him."
chapter eight coming soon...
a/n: i think this might be my favorite chapter after chapter 4 (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡
also, i’ve noticed some of you have figured out that i only reply to comments on the day i post a new chapter and it makes me laugh every time someone catches on!
BUT YES, there is a reason for it. i wait until posting day so i can reply to everyone at once and not accidentally miss people asking to be added to the taglist.
[taglist open] (please mention under the latest chapter or the story masterlist)
Katsuki who barely cries in front of others yet you woke up in the bed, after not waking up for like a few days to him angrily crying over how it should’ve been him instead of you who has to the the most injured out of 1A’s students when several villains attacked 🥺
Should've Been Me
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summary: when Katsuki lies awake sobbing in the middle of the night, ridden with guilt, the only one who can stand his stubborness while comforting him equally is his girlfriend.
warning/s: angst, hurt/comfort
w/c: 1k~ (short drabble)
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Pain pulled you awake slowly. The left side of your body throbbed in time with your heartbeat—deep bruises, cracked ribs, and a healing burn along your shoulder from the villain’s flame quirk. You’d taken the worst of it during the ambush on Class 1-A’s off-campus training. Several villains had coordinated an attack, and you’d thrown yourself between a group of your classmates and a devastating explosion.
The hospital room was dark except for the faint glow of monitors. You shifted carefully in the bed and froze when you heard it.
A sharp, angry inhale. Then a muffled, frustrated sound that didn’t belong to Katsuki Bakugo.
He was sitting in the chair beside your bed, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook. Not dramatically. Not loudly. But the way his fingers dug into his messy blond hair and the harsh, ragged breathing told you everything. He was crying. And he was pissed about it.
“Katsuki?” Your voice came out rough from disuse.
His head snapped up. Red eyes, glossy and furious, met yours. Tear tracks cut through the ash and sweat still smudged on his cheeks. He looked like he’d come straight from the battlefield and hadn’t left your side.
“The fuck are you doing awake?” he growled, voice thick. He swiped roughly at his face with the back of his hand, smearing the evidence. “Go back to sleep.”
You ignored that and pushed yourself up a little higher against the pillows, wincing as your ribs protested. “Come here.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped, but the way his voice cracked betrayed him. He stayed rooted in the chair, jaw clenched so tight you thought it might break.
You stared at him steadily. “Katsuki. Get over here.”
After a long second, he shoved the chair back with a harsh scrape and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He wouldn’t look at you directly. His hands flexed like he wanted to explode something.
You reached out and took one of his wrists, tugging until he faced you better. “Talk to me.”
He laughed, bitter and low. “Talk? What the hell is there to say?” Fresh tears slipped down despite how hard he tried to hold them back. His voice rose, angry and raw. “You’re lying in this fucking bed looking like you went through a meat grinder. Cracked ribs, second-degree burns, fucked up shoulder. The doctors said you took the worst of it out of everyone in 1-A. And for what?”
His free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh. “It should’ve been me. I’m supposed to be the strongest. I should’ve been faster, should’ve blown those bastards to hell before they got close to you. Instead you—” His voice broke completely. He looked away, ashamed of the tears but unable to stop them. “You jumped in like a damn idiot and now you’re the one paying for it.”
You let him get it out, thumb stroking slowly over the inside of his wrist. When he finally quieted, breathing hard, you spoke.
“You’re right. I did jump in.” Your tone was calm but firm. “Because I saw an opening and I took it. Just like you would have.”
His eyes snapped back to you, furious. “That’s not the fucking point—”
“It is the point.” You squeezed his wrist. “You don’t get to sit here and cry angry tears because I did what any of us would do for each other. Especially not you. You’ve thrown yourself into worse for me and the class a dozen times. You think I’m just gonna stand there and watch you get hurt when I can do something about it?”
He opened his mouth, but you kept going, voice steady and low.
“I’m not sorry. And I’m not gonna let you beat yourself up over this like it’s your personal failure. We’re a team, Katsuki. You’re my boyfriend, not my shield. I love you, but I’m not some fragile extra who needs you to take every hit for me.”
Katsuki’s shoulders slumped. More tears slipped free. He didn’t bother wiping them this time. “I know that,” he muttered. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting to blow up the entire universe for putting you here.”
You tugged him closer until he finally gave in and carefully laid down beside you, careful not to jostle your injuries. His head ended up on the uninjured side of your chest, one arm draped loosely over your waist. You threaded your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp the way you knew helped him unwind.
“I hate this,” he said quietly, voice muffled against you. “Hate seeing you hurt. Hate that it wasn’t me instead.”
“I know.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “But I’m still here. Still breathing. Still gonna give you shit when you’re being a stubborn ass in training next week. The villains didn’t win. We’re both still standing. Mostly.”
He let out a wet snort. “You’re such a smartass even half-broken.”
“Someone has to keep your ego in check.” You continued running your fingers through his hair, slow and soothing. “You don’t have to be the Symbol of Peace, Katsuki. You just have to be you. And I chose you. Scars, explosions, angry crying, and all.”
He stiffened at the reminder. “I wasn’t— Shut up. I don’t cry.”
“You do when it matters.” You tugged his hair lightly, just enough to make him look up at you. His eyes were still red-rimmed and raw. “And it’s okay. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Katsuki held your gaze for a long moment. Then he leaned up and kissed you—slow, careful, and surprisingly gentle. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“Don’t do that shit again,” he whispered. “Don’t make me sit here thinking I almost lost you.”
“I can’t promise that,” you said honestly. “But I can promise I’ll always fight like hell to come back to you.”
He exhaled shakily and buried his face in your neck again. You held him there, one hand in his hair, the other rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. His breathing gradually evened out, the tension draining from his body bit by bit.
“You’re really not mad I took the worst of it?” you asked after a while.
“Mad at the villains. Mad at myself for not being faster.” He paused. “Not mad at you. Just… fucking terrified.”
The admission was so quiet you almost missed it. You tightened your hold on him.
“I was scared too,” you admitted. “But I’d do it again if it meant keeping you and the others safe. That’s what loving you means to me.”
Katsuki didn’t reply with words. He just pressed closer, careful of your injuries, and let you keep running your fingers through his hair until his breathing slowed into something closer to sleep.
You stayed awake a little longer, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you. The pain in your body was still there, but having him here—raw and real and trusting you with this side of him—made it easier to bear.
Tomorrow he’d probably wake up grumpy and deny he’d cried at all. You’d tease him about it. He’d call you an idiot and threaten to blow up your hospital food.
You smiled faintly in the dark.
You wouldn’t have him any other way.
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A/N: I love this idea, and my heart genuinely aches when I think or season 8 bakugo. like that's my baby...he genuinely evolved into such a complex character, don't even get me STARTED on season 8 bkdk. Idc if I'm fucking 60, they will always be in my heart.
Hiiiiii,my request is that reader is a non bender and feel bad about that so she distanced her self from her husband Aang, she doesn’t talk to him for some hours and then goes missing . Aang worried doesn’t eat or sleep until he finds her a week later and they cry and make up,reader apologizing for leaving . Thank you!!!!
You Are My Home
╰┈➤ pairing: Aang x female! reader
a/n: this is such a good request! I was getting very emotinallll lolll
summary: After insecurity over being a nonbender drives you to leave, Aang spends a devastating week searching for you before finally finding you in a distant coastal village and breaking down in relief when he realizes you’re alive.
wc: 3.7k
contains: hurt/comfort, emotional insecurity, nonbender reader, established relationship, marriage, separation angst, desperate reunion, crying, clingy/protective Aang, emotional dependency, comfort hugs, fear of abandonment, soft romance, heavy emotional themes, reassurance
The first few days, Aang thought you just needed space.
That was all.
Everyone had bad days.
And lately, you’d seemed quieter than usual.
More withdrawn. You smiled less. Spoke less.
Sometimes he’d catch you staring off somewhere distant while the others laughed around you. Every time he asked what was wrong, though, you always answered the same way.
“I’m fine.”
But Aang knew you better than that.
He noticed the little things. The way you stopped joining training sessions with the others. The way your smile faded whenever conversations turned toward bending or Avatar duties. The way you pulled away slightly whenever people praised him in public.
“The Avatar and his powerful friends.”
“Master benders.”
“The strongest people in the world.”
And you-
You’d just stand there quietly beside him.
Human.
Ordinary.
Nonbender.
Invisible.
Aang tried so hard to make sure you never felt lesser. Because to him?
You weren’t. Not even a little.
You were his peace.
His safest place.
The person he trusted most in the world. But lately something had shifted.
And he could feel it slipping through his fingers no matter how carefully he reached for you.
That morning had started quietly. Too quietly. Aang woke up reaching for you automatically. But your side of the bed was cold already.
He frowned slightly.
Usually you stayed tangled up with him for at least another hour. He sat up slowly.
“Baby?”
No answer.
The apartment was still. Aang found you standing outside on the balcony staring out over Republic City. The wind moved softly through your hair. You didn’t turn when he approached.
Immediately his chest tightened.
Because lately you’d been looking at him less and less.
Aang stepped beside you quietly.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Straight to it. No pretending. You stared ahead silently.
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“Yes you are.”
His voice stayed soft. Gentle.
You swallowed hard.
“I just need some space.”
“For what?”
Your chest tightened painfully. Because how could you even explain this without sounding ridiculous?
You finally looked at him and gosh. The concern in his face nearly broke you immediately.
“I’m tired of feeling useless.”
Aang blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re not useless.”
You laughed bitterly under your breath.
“Aang.”
His face fell instantly hearing that tone from you. “You’re the Avatar,” you whispered. “Your friends are some of the strongest benders in the world. Everywhere we go people admire you and them and then there’s just…” Your voice cracked slightly. “Me.”
Aang stared at you like you’d said something impossible.
“Just you?”
You looked away again quickly.
“I can’t bend. I can’t fight beside you properly anymore. I can’t help the way everyone else can.”
“Baby- ”
“And I know you’d never say it but sometimes I wonder if you regret marrying someone ordinary.”
The second the words left your mouth-
Aang looked genuinely shattered.
Like you’d physically hurt him.
“What?”
You instantly regretted saying it. But the thoughts had been building for months. Years maybe. Watching him soar through the skies while you stayed grounded.
“I know it sounds stupid- ”
“No,” Aang interrupted immediately.
His voice shook slightly now.
“No, don’t do that.”
You finally looked at him again.
And tears already filled his eyes.
“I have never regretted loving you.”
Your chest ached.
“Aang…”
“You think bending is why I love people?”
“No but- ”
“I love you.”
The emotion in his voice cracked hard.
“You think I come home exhausted every night searching for you first because you’re a bender?”
Tears burned behind your eyes immediately.
“Aang- ”
“You’re my wife.”
His voice softened then.
Quieter.
More hurt.
“And somehow you really think I’d ever look at you and see ‘less.’”
You couldn’t look at him anymore. Because part of you knew he meant every word.
But another part
The insecure part
Still whispered ugly things into your mind constantly.
You stepped back slightly.
“I just need time.”
Aang’s face fell immediately.
“…Time?”
You nodded weakly.
“I can’t do this right now.”
“Do what?”
His voice cracked again.
“Talk to me.”
That hurt him. You saw it happen in real time. But he still nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
Quiet.
Broken.
“Okay.”
---
You were gone by sunset.
No note. No warning. Nothing.
At first Aang thought maybe you went walking. Then night came. And you still weren’t back.
By midnight, panic had already started clawing at his chest.
By morning-
The entire city was searching.
Katara found him standing in your shared bedroom staring blankly at the untouched side of the bed.
“Aang.”
He looked horrible already.
Eyes bloodshot.
Still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
Katara’s heart cracked immediately.
“We’ll find her.”
But Aang barely seemed to hear her. “She wouldn’t answer anyone.”
His voice sounded distant.
“She wouldn’t even look at me.”
Days passed.
No sign of you. And Aang completely unraveled. He stopped sleeping properly first. Then eating.
No matter how much Katara or Sokka begged him. Every waking second became dedicated to finding you.
He searched villages personally. Meditated desperately trying to feel for you spiritually.
Flew across entire regions on Appa without rest. Anyone who might’ve seen you got questioned immediately.
And every single night
He came back emptier.
More exhausted.
More terrified.
By the fifth day, Toph quietly told Katara she’d never sensed Aang this emotionally unstable before.
Because underneath the exhaustion
There was fear.
Real fear.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Pure devastation.
The possibility of losing you was destroying him. “Aang,” Katara said softly one night while finding him awake again before sunrise, “you need to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“She’s alive,” Katara insisted gently.
Aang finally looked up then. And the pain in his eyes nearly shattered her.
“What if she thinks I’m better off without her?”
Katara immediately moved beside him.
“She does not think that.”
“She left.”
His voice broke completely.
“She left me.”
---
It was one week later when Aang finally found you.
A tiny coastal village far from Republic City. You’d been staying in a small room above a tea shop helping the elderly owner clean and cook in exchange for somewhere to sleep.
You looked thinner.
Tired.
Miserable.
Because leaving hadn’t fixed anything.
It just made you miss him so badly it physically hurt.
That afternoon you stepped outside carrying a basket of linens.
And froze.
Appa stood at the edge of the village.
And Aang-
Aang was staring at you like he’d finally found air after drowning.
For one horrible second neither of you moved.
Then suddenly-
Aang ran.
Fast enough the wind kicked up around him.
Your basket hit the ground forgotten.
And before you could even speak-
He crashed into you.
Arms wrapping around you so tightly it stole your breath.
“Oh my gosh,” he choked out.
His entire body shook.
“You’re alive.”
Your own tears spilled instantly hearing the raw panic in his voice.
“Aang- ”
“You left.”
His voice cracked apart completely.
“You left and I couldn’t find you and I thought- ”
Emotion overwhelmed him so hard he couldn’t finish. You clung to him immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
Aang buried his face against your neck.
Actually crying now.
Real tears.
And suddenly you realized just how badly this week had destroyed him. He looked exhausted.
Thinner.
Like he hadn’t rested once.
You pulled back just enough to see his face.
“Aang…”
His eyes were red. Sunken.
“You scared me,” he whispered. The guilt hit so hard it nearly knocked the air from your lungs.
“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why would you do this?”
His voice wasn’t angry.
That somehow hurt worse. It was heartbroken. You shook your head desperately.
“I just thought maybe you deserved someone stronger- ”
Aang physically recoiled like the words hurt him.
“Stop.”
Tears spilled harder down your cheeks.
“I didn’t want to hold you back anymore.”
“You never held me back.”
His hands cupped your face desperately.
“You are my home.”
The sincerity in his voice shattered whatever walls you had left.
You sobbed openly then. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Re9 has showed us that Leon will absolutely push himself when he's sick, so can I please request reader taking care of Leon when he gets the flu? That man does *not* know how to rest or just let himself be taken care of and I want to make him soup and give him blankets and cuddles. >.<
i love this sm! ty for ur request! it's a shorter one, but ihope u like it!! <3 now i want soup.
totally not sick
leon kennedy x reader [gender neutral, no y/n]
no warnings. lots of banter and taking care of leon. trope of not caring if you get sick and kissing/touching anyways. envisioned as requiemish leon, but could be anytime around/after re6, i suppose! i just mention his wrinkles and he's much more settled in this <3
It’s Sunday. Usually the two of you would have a late breakfast, then go on a walk. Today, Leon had only managed some bites of cereal after finally waking up well after noon. You’d let him sleep as long as he could, because you suspected either something was wrong or he’d been extra tired from work. Either way, he deserved the rest.
By the time he emerged from the bedroom, he still looked exhausted. And he didn’t grumble that you should’ve woken him up like he normally does when you’ve been up for hours without him. So, you have one conclusion.
Leon’s sick.
You know it, and you know he knows it, even if he still hasn’t said anything. Aside from his sleeping habits, he’s sniffling, “allergies,” he hasn’t worked out or went on a run in two days, “I just don’t feel like it, it’s no big deal,” and now he’s downing water like he’s been in the desert for a week.
“Thirsty?” You raise an eyebrow as he gulps down his fourth glass of water. Leon shrugs, and his throat bobs as he seems to swallow repeatedly.
“I know what you’re thinking, babe, but I’m fine. Really.”
“Uh huh,” you reach out with the back of your hand. His forehead is radiating heat. His hairline is even a little damp. “You’re burning up.”
“It’s summer.”
“It’s not even halfway through April, Leon,” you stand and go for the bathroom. You call a command over his shoulder. “Stay.”
“I’m not a dog.” He grumbles when you return with an arm full of supplies. You leave briefly to fill another glass of water for him, with a side of two ibuprofen tablets.
“You’re sick as one,” you cross your arms as he takes them like a moody teenager. You wait for him to swallow before uncapping the thermometer. “Open.”
“Bossy.” He does what you say anyway.
“Good boy.” If the thermometer wasn’t in his mouth, and he didn’t have a thousand pounds worth of fatigue on his muscles, he’d be grinning and tackling you to get you back for that. Instead, he stays put and waits for his temperature to be taken. His acceptance is hesitant, but it’s beginning to settle as you put your foot down. He knows better than to fight you when you’ve got your mind set on something; never mind something that has to do with his well being. God forbid you get your hands on any of the BOWs that have tried to kill him. He’s not sure anything could stop you.
You dab the cool washcloth you’d thrown over your shoulder on his forehead. His eyelids flutter shut at the relief and you can’t help the smug smile on your face.
“Not sick, my ass,” Leon pinches your hip in retaliation. The thermometer beeps. 99.8. You sigh. “You’re ridiculous. How long have you been feeling sick? Since Thursday?”
“...Yeah,” he finally admits. He looks like he’s been caught stealing. “How’d you know?”
“You stopped kissing me more than twice a day,” you say, like it's obvious. It is to you. Every habit he has is ingrained in your mind. At home, Leon's predictable. He likes his routine. You assume he's trying to make up for when his employment will inevitably throw a wrench into it. “And you also took two naps on Friday. And a couple other things.”
“My stealth’s not as good as I—,” he stops short with a scrunched nose. A sneeze explodes once, twice. You hand him a tissue, another one of the supplies you’d laid out on the coffee table, and he murmurs a thanks. Something guilty crosses his expression as he looks back at you. The tip of his nose has started to redden, and he looks much like a little kid in a Kleenex commercial. Unfortunately, it’s very cute. “I hope I don’t get you sick.”
“I’ll be alright,” you press a kiss to his clammy forehead and follow it with another press of the cool cloth. “You can repay the favor then, hm?” His smile is small, but his crows feet deepen just enough from it in a devastatingly handsome expression. “Even when you’re sick you’re hot, you bastard.” That really makes him smile big, and a laugh erupts from his chest. It quickly turns into a cough.
“Can you—” He glances behind you as if he’s trying to prevent himself from asking for help. “Do we have cough drops?”
“It’s okay to ask for help, old man,” you tease and reach for the packet. You even unwrap it for him. He watches you like you’re an artist and your medium is doing the simplest things to make his life easier. Not a second thought or a single question. He considers that maybe you’re something otherworldly. All for simply handing him an unwrapped cough drop. “Especially if you’re not feeling well, baby. Just because I’ll find out eventually, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rather know the second you feel off. You’d do the same for me, so let me do it for you.”
“Next time,” he murmurs, pressing a hand to your cheek. It’s not quite clammy, but is warmer than usual. “Swear.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you lean in to kiss him, but he yanks his head away like you’re a hot stove. You narrow your eyes. “C’mon, you’ve been kissing me all week. If I’m going to catch something, I would have already. I don’t care.” You take his cheeks in your hands and hold firm. He runs a thumb over your forearm and stops arguing. It’s a short kiss; Leon’s congested sinuses don’t have much room to breathe for a longer one. “Hm. Honey," it’s an observation of the taste of the cough drop lingering on his lips, something that's an absent-minded thought. The right corner of his mouth quirks upwards like it always does before a smartass joke.
“Yes, sweetheart?” You sigh. It's a loving exhale.
“You really never stop, do you?”
“Well, normally, you're begging me not to stop—”
“Alright, enough of you. I'll start dinner and leave you to your wiseass commentary," you cut him off before he starts coughing from making himself laugh. Another kiss finds the top of his head as you head to the kitchen. You don’t ask; you know what Leon likes the rare times when he’s under the weather. Homemade chicken noodle soup with lots of veggies to replenish his vitamins. And some toasted garlic and rosemary brioche on the side. He doesn’t care if it’s some recipe you found on the internet a long time ago; to him, it’s your soup. Prepared by your gentle hands, served to him with a kiss while he shrinks into the couch in a fever.
You’re nearly done by the time Leon hobbles over to you from his tomb of tissues and medicine on the couch. His arms find their way around your waist and he squeezes you. He kisses the crown of your head like he always does, and tucks his face into your neck. You can barely understand the words as they fall against your skin. He’s a touch warmer than usual, but not as concerning as before.
“Thank you,” another kiss lands on the curve of your shoulder and collarbone. First on the fabric of his shirt that you’ve stolen, then he pulls the collar aside to expose bare skin. He adorns this with a kiss as well. “Love your soup.”
“I know,” him saying it aloud still makes you feel warm, and you spin in his hold to look at him. His hair is limp, not plush and styled like it normally is. You push the strands hanging in his face away, out of his tired eyes. The cold has fully set in now, and he looks pretty damn miserable. His shoulders sagging and the crease long set in his brow deepened. “How you feeling, baby?” He sniffs and tilts his head, a small movement but a token of the way he softens when you call him a pet name. It’s something like a cat pushing its eager head into a palm.
“Better now that I’m looking at you,” he rasps, raw from the soreness. He clears his throat aimlessly. “But still crap.” Your chest aches just a little. Even if it means taking care of him, a Leon who isn’t feeling like himself breaks your heart. You try to cheer him up, tucking more of his hair behind his ears. His gaze is fixed on you, gentle and sticky sweet.
“I can’t fix everything, can I?”
“You get pretty close,” he shrugs. Your cracked heart flutters. Leon glances over you at the pot. “I’m pretty sure that soup makes up for the fraction you lack, so you’re not missin’ anything, sweetheart.”
“Flirt.”
“It’s the truth,” he clears his throat again, and it stirs another coughing fit. You rub his back while he works through it. It’s not wet, just dry and irritated from his sore throat. He looks back at you once it subsides, almost sheepish. As if being sick is an embarrassing affair. He’s really all gas. You suppose you’re something like his emergency brake. And even if you know as much, it’s still something that truly stuns you every time he pushes himself too much. And then, like clockwork, his next sentence is another rev of his rattling engine.
“You need help?”
You nearly laugh. He’s a walking bucket of snot and coughs and he’s trying to help with dinner.
“Yeah,” you take his shoulders and push him to the dining room. He lets you sit him in a chair, amusement across his features at your bossiness. “You can start by resting, Leon. Just sit there and look pretty, I’ll get you a bowl. Bread’s almost done toasting.”
“I’m not sure I’m entirely prepared for the looking pretty part,” his eyes track you as you move around the kitchen, preparing two bowls. “I think you’ve got that covered.”
summary: it had been a stupid fight—the kind that should’ve ended with you begrudgingly crawling into leon’s lap with his arms pulling you close like you’d never left. instead, he was forced to leave for his mission, unresolved tension simmering between you. two weeks later, he’s back and intent on making it up to you.
warnings: (18+) smut, some fluff, older bf!leon, age gap, established relationship, pet names (baby and sweetheart), make up/reunion sex, unprotected p in v, me being really horny about leon’s biceps and hands
word count: 3.3k
music choice: i’m your man by leonard cohen.
The door creaks open at half past two.
Leon entered quietly, trying his best to keep quiet and avoid waking you. Though, he couldn’t help the way his feet dragged on the carpet, the floor protesting against his weight with each step.
You take a deep breath before sliding out of bed, palm rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes. Heart thumping in your chest, you aren’t quite sure what the cause of it is this time—his return home, safely, in one piece, or the fact that your tiff had been left unresolved. You figure it’s a mixture of the two, an uncomfortable one that swirls like nervousness personified in your stomach.
Hand resting on the wall, you peek out from behind the corner. Leon had damn near collapsed on the couch, head tipped back with his eyes shut. For a moment, you wondered whether to approach him now or bother him in the morning.
Only, you didn’t have a chance to make that decision before Leon’s head picked up, those tired eyes searching your face in the dim light. His jaw tenses, innate stubbornness wrestling with how much he’s missed you, before he exhales through his nose. Relenting. The moment his gaze drops to the shirt you’re wearing—his shirt that swallows you whole—he realizes that he has no chance in hell at staying upset with you.
“Hey, you,” he says, his voice rough from lack of sleep, yet softer than usual.
Leon shifts on the couch, making space without asking you to come closer. It was a stubborn man’s apology if you’d ever seen one. And when you don’t come near, he looks away, expression almost shy, fingers still tapping absently against his thigh.
You only make him wait a few seconds longer before you approach, bare feet padding softly on the carpet. When you lower yourself onto his lap, you feel the way Leon’s entire body loosens—like he’d been all wound up without realizing it. Like clockwork, his arm curls around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest.
Head tucked under his chin, you melt into him too, like a homecoming postponed two weeks too long. “Hey,” you finally whisper back.
Leon’s free hand lifts, brushing over your hair. He presses his face into it, inhaling your scent while his eyes come to a close. “Missed you, baby.”
Your fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt, something to keep your hands distracted. He seems to notice, wrapping his large, rough hand around yours. His thumb strokes the back of your hand before he brings it up, pressing his lips to your knuckles.
“You still mad at me?” he asks, chin nudging the top of your head, a silent ask for you to meet his eyes.
And when you do, you can practically see the way the older man melts for you. He releases your hand, placing it on his shoulder, then cups your cheek. It was a habit of his, just looking at you like this. Especially when he returns home from missions, his words and energy having been wrung dry. His touch communicates just how happy he is to see you, safe and sound.
“Mm-hmm,” you hum, though you betray your response by pressing your cheek more firmly to his palm.
You watch as a lazy smile tugs on the corner of his mouth, thumb rubbing your cheek. He pulls you in, lips pressing to the top of your head, and then once more to your forehead.
He lingers for a moment before pulling back just enough to catch your eye. “We gonna talk about it?”
You shrug, noncommittal. “If you want to.”
Leon’s mouth twitches, very easily reading in between the lines and picking up on the hidden subtexts in every word you say by this point. His fingers trail down your arm.
“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” he murmurs, hand coming down to rest on your thigh, thumb stroking your skin. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Should’ve apologized before I left. Made it right.”
When you lower your head to his shoulder, Leon feels somewhat better. Maybe he was better at using his words than he thought. Or maybe you were just tired, sleepy, needing rest. It was the middle of the night, after all.
But when you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing even closer to him, he begins to feel more confident in the former.
Leon turns, lips to your temple. “Still mad at me?”
“Kinda,” you mumble against his neck, nodding. “But I’m too tired to do anything about it right now.”
Leon hums, the sound vibrating against you as his arms tighten around your waist to pull you more securely against his chest. “Lucky me,” he whispers, and even though you can’t see his face, you can hear the proud smirk on it.
One hand slides up your back, settling between your shoulder blades. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Nodding with your voice muffled against his skin, you say, “Take us to bed.”
Leon tuts. “Bossy.”
But even as he says it, he’s already moving to hoist you up. His arm hooks beneath your legs, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. Sneakily, you peek an eye open, admiring the way his bicep looks from this angle.
Years of working out, excessive training, the grueling missions—they’ve paid off, at least in this way—a way you could admire.
Leon nudges the bedroom door closed behind him before depositing you gently on the bed. He strips out of his clothes until he is left in his boxers, each article thumping to the ground, before climbing in behind you without a word.
“Not bossy,” you mutter as you lean back against his chest.
Leon huffs, a sound between a laugh and a scoff, his breath stirring the hairs at the back of your neck. “Right,” he quietly replies, lips just barely skimming the shell of your ear, “you’re just very politely demanding.”
His arm wraps around your waist, and he tugs you back against him while he pulls the blanket up. The warmth of his body soothed all of your aches and pains, his chest molding against your back. You raise your head, and like routine, Leon lays down his arm, his bicep pillowing your head.
“You’re lucky I like it when you’re bossy.”
You reach for his hand, splayed over your stomach, lacing your fingers with his. “I know you do.”
Leon replies by brushing his thumb over your fingers, face pressing into the back of your neck. For a long moment, the only sound to be heard is the synchronicity of your breathing, the occasional shift beneath the covers.
Another caress comes in the form of muffled words against your neck, “I missed you.”
You press more firmly against him, testing the waters. “I missed you too.”
When he doesn’t answer, you worry that he might be falling asleep. You should want him to rest and catch up on lost sleep. But selfishly—and selfish is what you can be when it comes to Leon’s attention—you press against him again, wiggling your ass just a bit more, because you just can’t help it. It’d been two weeks. Two long, torturous weeks.
You nearly smile when you hear him groan into your ear, feeling emboldened by such a quiet sound. Steeling yourself, you press your back to his front again, and this time, you can feel his erection press back.
Shifting to do it again, Leon’s hand comes down on your hip, halting your movement in his iron grip. “What’re ya doing? I thought my girl was still mad at me.”
Leon’s voice produces a heat that travels through your body, making your heart rate double in your chest. It was groggy and deep, rumbling in his chest with each word he said. You would’ve squirmed if his hand hadn’t brushed your hair away from your neck, his lips replacing it.
“I am still mad at you,” you say, doing your best to stabilize your voice, lest you whine midway through your sentence.
He laughs in your ear, the sound tired and deep, while his fingertips skim the skin of your stomach, slipping beneath the old band T-shirt that you found in the closet.
“I’m sure you are, baby,” he says, lips now encouraged to press an open-mouthed kiss to the spot just beneath your ear.
You gasp as his hand flattens on your stomach, pressing you against him until the scant distance between you is no more. He takes one of your breasts into his palm, squeezing gently.
“I am,” you choke out, though you aren’t even convincing yourself anymore.
Leon hums, naturally unconvinced. He kneads the softness of your breast in his hand, lips traveling the slope of your neck. “Then let me kiss it better. Can’t have my baby mad at me forever, can I?”
You’ve never known a love quite like Leon’s. He was gentle in a way guys your age usually aren’t. Never impatient, never rushing. Would rather touch your body in ways that make it sing than ever use it as a means to an end.
Leon pushes the shirt up your torso, pulling it off and over your head in one gentle movement. His hand cradles the back of your head as you lie back down, lips on the tip of your nose before they land on your lips.
Even now, you notice it.
Hands that rub and knead, rather than pinch and pull. Teeth kept behind the lips that kiss your skin rather than bite into it.
A whimper leaves your lips as his fingertips smooth down your torso, tracing the hem of your panties.
Leon kisses your shoulder, eyes on the side of your face. “Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?”
You nod your head, rewarded with a kiss to your cheek. “Y-Yes.”
He smiles against your skin; you can feel it. “Spread your legs for me. Help an old man out.”
Heat burns your cheeks, a tingling sensation traces the curve of your spine, and you nearly squirm at the feeling. A part of you feels too vulnerable like this, even now, even when you know that Leon isn’t the big bad wolf who’s out to hurt you.
The rough pad of his thumb strokes your lower stomach, lips finding the underside of your jaw, planting soft kisses that only stoke the fire within you. All of it was patient. Pressureless.
As you lift your thigh, his hand smooths over the inner side, keeping you spread open. “There you go,” he praises, hand resting on your knee as he waits for you to get comfortable in this new position.
Leon flexes his bicep beneath your head, an attempt to get your attention. When you tilt your head back to meet his gaze, he lowers to meet you where you are, lips pressing to yours.
You whine into his mouth, hips twitching as his hand properly slips between your legs, cupping your mound. Before you know it, his fingers slip beneath the damp fabric, sliding through your folds with ease.
“F-Fuck,” you stutter.
He groans, and you can feel his cock twitch against your ass. “Left my pretty girl so pent up. Gonna let me do right by you now?”
You nod against his lips, and his hand slips lower, gathering your wetness on his fingertips before bringing them to your clit, circling the pearl at a speed he knows you love. Not too little, but not too much. Just enough.
You pull away from his kiss, burying your face into his arm beneath your head. A whine of his name makes his fingers slip down, two fingers prodding your entrance to work you open.
In response, your thighs threaten to close around his hand, but he uses the strength of his forearm to keep your legs spread, fingers never stopping their pursuit.
His lips skim your ear, voice rough with arousal. “Missed this pretty pussy—shit, squeezing my fingers so tight. She missed me too, huh?”
A whine escapes you as you shift your hips, eager for more. “Yes— fuck, I want you.” Your hand slips between the two of you, just fingertips, just barely running over the thick print of his erection. “Want this—”
Leon damn near whimpers in your ear, forehead dropping onto your shoulder. “Shit, none of that, sweetheart— gonna make me cum before I even get to be inside ya. Don’t want that, do we?”
You shake your head, a small pout forming on your lips. He smiles, head dipping to kiss it away. “Don’t gimme that look, pretty baby. You’ll get what ya want, promise.”
Leon continues to fuck you slowly with his fingers, not aiming to overwhelm you. But two weeks apart have turned you greedy.
“Faster,” you say through a breath.
His lips trace your neck. “Mm-mm. How about a please?”
You huff, already impatient. “Faster, please.”
His lips curve up against your skin, but he obliges you anyway. Always does. His fingers quicken in pace, fingers long enough to easily curl inside you, knuckles deep.
The heel of his palm drags against your clit with every thrust of his fingers, the sound of your arousal and pleasure filling the otherwise quiet room.
Leon kisses your temple, a gentle gesture that contrasts with the movement of his hand. He keeps his eyes on your face, reading each expression. Lips fall onto your cheek. “My beautiful girl.”
You find yourself arching against him, the warmth of his cock twitching back and the heat coiling in your stomach making you moan. Your hand shoots down, wrapping around his wrist, feeling the muscles flex with every move of his hand. “Please, Leon, I’m—”
“I know you are, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb finding your clit. “I’ve got you. Tell me where it feels good.”
He purposefully slips his fingers in a moment later, fingertips stroking the spot inside of you that makes your thighs begin to shake. The sound you let out is music to his ears, a mix between a whimper and a whine, muffled against his bicep.
“Right there, baby? Yeah?”
You nod, moans spilling from you as you bury your face in his arm completely. His fingers curl against that spot once more, sending you flying over the edge, completely undone. Your hips rock against his hand as your orgasm washes over you, panting harshly against his skin.
Leon’s fingers work you through it until your entire body goes limp against him, withdrawing them entirely. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers clean of your release, groaning at the taste.
Still panting from your climax, you find yourself pressing back into Leon once more, his erection fitting snug against your ass.
You can hear him chuckle against your neck. “So soon?”
“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, fingers just barely slipping beneath the waistband of his underwear. “Unless you need to catch your breath…rest your joints. I know you have your senior moments from time to time.”
Leon catches your wrist in a firm grip and uses your arm to roll you onto your back. He nudges your thighs apart once more, fingers hooking into the sides of your underwear to slide the flimsy fabric down your legs.
“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t get all bratty on me ‘cause you’re getting impatient,” he says, voice rumbling against your skin as he presses a kiss on your hip bone.
You try not to squirm—to act affected at all—as he licks a stripe over your puffy slit, just enough to taste you from the source. “W-Well, all I’m hearing is more stalling.”
Leon clicks his tongue, shaking his head. He presses a kiss on your inner thigh before pulling back, resting his weight on his heels. Tugging his boxers down, he easily kicks them away, until you’re both left just as naked as the day you were born.
His hand wraps around his shaft, stroking himself while positioning his leaking tip at your entrance. “There’s nothing elderly about how I fuck this pussy, baby, you know that.”
Your eyes widen, glued to the movement of his hand as he settles between your thighs once more. His cock seems bigger every time you see it, the head flushed a pretty pink color and beading with the evidence of his arousal.
You gulp, still trying to seem brave. “N-No? It’s just been so long, I guess I forgot.”
Rather than reprimanding you, Leon laughs under his breath, hands smoothing over your thighs as he pulls you closer, tip catching your entrance. “Such a brat,” he muses, voice light.
He slants his hips before you can rattle off another dull jab, sliding inside your warmth, cock snug inside you. His lips are on your neck almost immediately.
Your fingers card into his hair, lightly tugging at the root. “Oh, fuck, Leon—”
Another roll of his hips, another moan earned from your kiss-bruised lips.
He keeps his hands planted on your hips, thumbs stroking over the widest points. “Thought about you the whole time I was gone— shhit, baby, don’t squeeze me so tight.”
You gasp as he tilts your hips up just right, enough for his tip to reach the deepest point inside you. “Y-You did?”
Leon pants against your neck, kisses trailing up the side of your face, hot and wet. “‘Course I did. Wanted to—fuck, there ya go—get back home to my pretty girl.”
You turn your head to catch his mouth with your own, hands coming to cup both sides of his face. “I love you. ‘M sorry I’m such a—hah—brat. Missed you s’much.”
He twitches inside you with a groan into your mouth.
Leon is close, and he can feel that you are too.
He smooths a hand over your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. “I love you too, baby. Always gonna.”
You love this feeling. Being so full of him, so warm and loved. Hands in his hair, on his shoulders, raking down his back. Legs wrapping around his hips, keeping him near.
Leon breaks your kiss only to murmur against your cheek, “Fuck— gotta pull out, baby. Perfect pussy’s gonna make me cum.”
Ankles lock around his hips. Your mouth is back on his. “Mm-mm. Inside.”
A sound in between a gasp and a laugh leaves him, pulling away from the kiss just enough to look down at you. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, sweetheart. Say you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” your response comes faster than lightning. “I-I’m gonna cum!”
Leon’s hips stutter in response to you clenching down on him like a vice. He laces his fingers in yours like it was his first instinct, free hand slipping between you to rub your clit.
He watches your face, brought closer to the edge himself with every pinch of your brows and drop of your lips. “There it is, atta girl. So pretty when you cum.”
Your orgasm strikes you, hot and bright and as intense as electricity. Your hips jerk up into his, your veins thrumming with a pleasure that you’ve long been waiting for.
Just as you fall against him, Leon is there to catch you, hips buried to the hilt. Head tucked into your shoulder, you feel the moment he spills inside you. He cums with a choked sound against your skin, his hips stuttering until he empties himself, still buried snug inside you.
Eyes opening, you still see stars. You almost have to remind yourself how to breathe.
Lips on your shoulder. “Love you.”
A kiss on your forehead, hands pressing against the mattress on either side of your head as he stands up. By the time your eyes open, he’s back with a damp rag and a glass of water to your lips.
Cleaned up and sleepy, he slides into bed behind you once more, arm slung lazily over your middle.
You fall asleep in his arms a quarter past four.
an: i finally wrote something after having writers block for months on end everyone cheer !!! sorry if it’s lowk trash, i’ve been out of the writers room for so longggg 😞
he watches the clip over and over again—the blurry clip of you denying any sort of relationship you have with sae. the paparazzi had managed to force an answer out of you through consistent harassment and stalking.
“he’s my friend! please, just leave me alone. we’re really just friends.”
just friends his ass.
it’s a mistake on sae’s part; to go out in public with nothing but you by his side and not expect the paparazzi to catch on. but he doesn’t expect them to be this annoying.
sae doesn’t want to hide anything. he doesn’t want to hide how much he loves you, or that he’s taken. he’s sick and tired of opening twitter and seeing horny posts about him. he’s tired of parasocial fans acting like he’s their’s.
sae is yours. not anyone else’s.
which is why he arrives at your apartment uncalled for with no shame, taking your wrist and dragging you out. “c’mon, we’ve got stuff to do.”
“wah—sae!” you exclaimed. “we can’t be seen, the paparazzi are gonna—“
“that’s exactly why we’re going out, you idiot. just trust me.” he brings you to a fairly public area, with dozens of people around. as expected, sae already hears the click of cameras.
sae hates pda.
which is why you’re completely puzzled when his hand cups the back of your neck, and crashes his lips onto yours. no warning, no preparation.
the paparazzi look utterly horrified. a few passerby look ready to cry. meanwhile, sae only pulls away when his hands tangle your hair and your knees are almost giving out.
sae’s eyes find a paparazzi hidden within the crowd, and he sticks up his middle finger.
ITOSHI SAE IS TAKEN—WHAT THIS MEANS FOR THE FUTURE OF THE SPORTS INDUSTRY
ITOSHI SAE AND HIS BOLD DISPLAY OF PUBLIC AFFECTION
ITOSHI SAE FANS ARE HEARTBROKEN AFTER THE REVEAL OF HIS RELATIONSHIP
“sae, is this really okay? you just lost half your fanbase, and the other half is going to murder me.” you mutter, head on his shoulder.
“just don’t worry, cariño, i’ve got the rest handled.” sae hums. well, more like his manager, but the point still stands.
“but sae—“
“listen,” he cupped your face. “i don’t give two shits about what the paparazzi or my fans think. i don’t give two shits about how jealous they are. but don’t ever downgrade me to ‘just a friend’ ever again.”
he brought your hands to his lips, kissing each and every single knuckle. “because friends—
Pairing: Leon Kennedy (RE2Remake) X secretary! F. Reader
Content warning: Violence and blood, cursing, graphic descriptions, jealously, description of bruising, vomit
Summary: Fighting infecteds beside a handsome rookie police officer wasn't in the job description, but neither was falling in love with said man.
Tags: Leon x Reader, Reader and Leon are the same age, canon(ish) events in Resident Evil 2 (1998), Leon is still jealous, Ada finally appears
Authors note: is it that bad to apologize for dissapearing again? i feel like this has became very common with every chapter of this series, sorry!
Word count: 3,426
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After the encounter with the mysterious woman, you and Leon kept exploring the basement level of the R.P.D. on the look out for any sort of resources, even though you knew the place, the garage wasn’t exactly a place you usually went, neither was the cell area, in fact you were told to stay away from it but you sure did sneak there once or twice during late night shifts just to see. You noticed Leon was quite agitated after the conversation with her, as if something was bothering him. “So, weird woman, right?” You said trying to break the ice while inspecting corners.
“Indeed. Who says all that and just walks away?” He scoffed and shook his head but kept his hand steady holding a flashlight. “Do you know her?”
“No, haven’t seen her ever.” You said and he just let out a low hum. “You seem intrigued.” You added and noticed that his eyebrows were so furrowed he would certainly end this night with wrinkles deeper than your father’s.
“I am. Something about that woman is so mysterious, I can’t shake the thought away.” He said and made you question, how did his mind fill up with thoughts about her that quickly? At each moment that passed you had gotten more and more puzzled about him. Finally walking into the cell area you were immediately greeted by grunts and metal sounds, looking at the first cell you saw three infecteds banging to be let out and almost screaming for just a taste of flesh. Mindlessly getting closer to Leon you both followed a light at the end of the hallway in search for a new keycard that could have been left out there. You were prepared for the worst, maybe another infected dog would be waiting for you there? Or, perhaps, something worse. That’s when you reached one of the final cells and heard a sound and a strong smell of cigarettes.
“Hello?” Said a male voice, sounding human. You and Leon exchanged looks before walking towards it and finding a man sitting on a bench with a lit up cigarette looking absurdly calm. “I don’t believe it, real humans!” He said when you came into his vision, he wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar face, you saw him maybe once in the district. “Hello humans!” He cheered.
Before you could reply, Leon put himself in front of you. “You been here long?” He asked, hand on top of gun, right to pull it out in case the man tried anything.
“Long enough… Wait a minute, who is that behind you?” He asked and Leon looked over his shoulder towards you, waiting for your response. You shook your head no, indicating you didn’t know the guy. “I-I know you, you’re um… The assistant? Right? No, no, the assistant was much older, no…” The guy began mumbling, trying to connect the dots. “You’re the secretary! You checked me in when I came in like three days ago, I’m one of the journalists that came for that interview with Irons.” He said and that clicked a memory in you. Sure, you didn’t remember his face but you knew about the media wanting interviews with the Chief. “I’m Ben!”
“Oh, hi, Ben.” You said, not sure how to reply to him. “If you’re one of the journalists, how did you end up here?” You asked.
“What do you think? Irons locked me up in here, I was about to blow the whistle on his dirty ass.” He said and took a last inhale of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stepping on it.
“I’m sure he had a good reason to put you in here.” Leon said and it almost made you burst out laughing, but you opted to let out a nasal laugh, he noticed that.
“I’m sure you think that.” The man said and looked Leon up and down. He also noticed neither you or Leon moved to get the keys to open the cell for him. Suddenly a loud noise was heard from the end of the hallway. “Look, I’ll make you a deal.” He begun. “Unlock this cell and I’ll give you this.” He said and pulled out a lanyard that was wrapped around his neck, connected to it was a garage keycard, the one you absolutely needed to get out of there. When you saw that you were already looking around to see where the cell unlocking system was.
“Sorry… I can’t do that.” Leon said and made you turn your head to him so quickly, not believing what you just heard. “I have to talk to the chief first.” He finished and another sound was heard.
“Leon, the chief will be no help.” You said, your leg lightly shaking out of anticipation, the sound was getting louder and you had no idea of what was about to come.
“Y/n, we don’t know who this guy is.” Leon argued back.
“You didn’t know who I was either! And if we don’t get the card we’ll be stuck in here until God knows when!” You said.
“Y/n, I’m the officer here!” Leon shouted.
“You haven’t even worked for a day!” You almost screamed at his face but you got interrupted by Ben banging on the cell bars.
“Will you stop arguing? Leave your relationship issues out of this!” The man said which made you two look at him. You were about to say something else when he kept going. “You, stop being such an asshole and listen to her! You need this! You need to get the fuck out of here!” He yelled and suddenly the wall behind him cracked open and so much dust flew in the air creating a cloud, you shielded your eyes with your arm and was able to see a large grey hand wrapping around Ben’s head and lifting him up and dragging him around, opening the crack on the wall even more. You could hear him screaming in fear and agony, looking to the side you also saw Leon pulling out his gun, which made you get yours as well, but it was to no help since the hand soon squeezed Ben’s head and cracked it with such ease and then blood was everywhere, you could see his eyes popping out of his skull, you could no longer make out his face since everything was now just flesh and brains. You wanted to scream, really, but you slapped your mouth shut with your hand and your eyes widened. The last thing you saw before getting lightheaded was his limp body falling into the ground, lifeless.
“Oh my God…” Leon said.
“I’m gonna throw up.” You said before turning around and puking your bile out since you didn’t have anything to eat for the past day, the bright yellow liquid creating a small stain in the ground almost making you nauseous all over again. Leon turned to you and patted your back while holding your hair away from your face. He then heard footsteps, familiar ones but he couldn’t let his guard down so he pointed his gun towards the hallway until he lowered because he saw the previous woman approaching.
“She doesn’t look too well.” She said and you didn’t bother to say anything, just looked her way with your throat burning and tears in your eyes that you wiped away. She looked at Leon and curled her lips up, almost sarcastically. “It’s just me, you can put that thing away.” Suddenly you felt a small cloth being thrown at you, a gesture of kindness from the woman.
“Thank you.” You almost whispered and used the fabric to wipe your mouth and forehead before handing it back to her, she dismissed it with her hand, indicating for you to keep it. You stuffed it into your pocket and ran your hands on top of your head to try and fix any fly away hairs. “We don’t know what happened, it was so quick, he was talking and all of a sudden-” You were interrupted.
“I told you to get out of here.” The woman said while analyzing the grotesque scene inside of the cell. “You wouldn’t want to end up like Ben, do you?”
“You knew him?” Leon finally entered the conversation.
“He was an informant. Had information of use to my investigation.” She said and crossed her arms. So he did lie to you, he wasn’t no journalist. That son of a…
“So what he said was true?” Leon said and she only looked at her before looking at the both of you and walking away silent. “Hey! You can’t just keep walking away!” He raised his voice and tried to hold her back by her arm, to which she pulled it back and looked him up and down, annoyance in her face. “We don’t even know your name!” He argued and looked back at you but you were just standing there, trying to recover from the sudden throw up. “I’m Leon Kennedy and she’s Y/n L/n.” He introduced you.
“Find a way out, Leon, Y/n. Before it’s too late. Then we’ll talk.” She spit it out before returning to walk away. “Name’s Ada.” She announced before disappearing into the dark hallway. Leon looked at you in disbelief, you were also confused but knew it would be best to just follow her advice and get the hell out of there.
Leon kept shaking his head for the rest of the walk, almost as if he was trying to shake his thoughts away, maybe it was something to do with the most recent encounter with the woman in sunglasses. You noticed he would open his mouth and close it right after, as if he had something to say but couldn’t find the words to. After looking around the rest of the basement floor and dealing with all kinds of obstacles, you agreed you had to search for a way of opening the cells, a dusty document was left on top of a desk, a format you recognized too well because you were the one who issued it. You had to go all the way back to the station and look for the power panels in the clock tower… On the very last floor. Great. The precinct felt somehow comforting, even though you knew most of your colleagues had already turned into braindead creatures, thirsting for the taste of human flesh. But it reminded you of your overtimes full of cups of coffee and eventual chattering with the officers, a reality where you completely forgot that your life at home was waiting for you. You especially remembered the day when the trains stopped working and Chris offered to drive you home in his beat up car with the hissing car radio that would not play anything made after the 80’s. He was always a great person to chat with, you remembered the jokes he would make about some missions and your coworkers; you also remembered you - now ex - boyfriend saw you getting out of his car from the window and refused to talk to you for two days.
“This place is huge.” Leon said pulling you away from your daydreaming. You were now in the storage room, a dark room full of plastic covered shelves and boxes full of god knows what. “What even is this room for?” He asked while lifting the plastic to look at what was stored.
“The storage room, I also have no idea of what is inside these boxes so I think it’s best not to touch it.” You replied and Leon immediately dropped the plastic, scared he might have triggered some kind of trap, which made you chuckle, he responded to that by looking away and scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Some say this place used to be an art gallery, hence the unbelievable amount of art supplies and sculptures scattered around.” You said while shining your flashlight around when suddenly your ears captured the sound of the fire alarm going off, you immediately knew this would cause problems. “Shit..” Leon also heard it.
“That 's not good.” He said, sweat dripping down his face. “You know where to turn this off?”
“Yeah, it’s outside, let’s go.”
“You call it, boss.”
Opening the door to the rooftop area of the precinct you were hit by a wave of nostalgia, the small red bench was still there, intact, you could even see the patches without paint due to your nervous fidgeting during your lunch break, it felt good to see something so familiar amongst chaos. The rain was still pouring, yet you could make the shape of some clouds in the dark sky. God, you couldn’t wait for this to be over.
Every sign of your past made your thoughts go back to you, now ex, boyfriend. Even though you just found out how the pain of a heartbreak felt you couldn’t wash away the feeling of longing for his affection, or any kind, you were scared, upset, sad, uncertain and hurt, and the emotional absence of your current partner wasn’t helping at all, both of you had this horrible feeling of abandonment.
Placing your head back to where you were, you knew you had to go down the old rusty ladder that led to the lower floor, closer to where you needed to get to turn off the loud fire alarm. You looked at Leon and he was observing the area, searching for other options to gst down. “Is this the only way?” He asked.
“Yeah.” You replied.
“It doesn’t look too steady.” He chuckled and lightly shook the ladder with his feet.
“It isn’t.” You joked. “But if we go down carefully enough, maybe we’ll make it down.” You turned to him only to find him already looking at you, offering that crooked smile you already noticed he has. You felt like a teenager all over again, diverting your gaze for him to avoid showing your aversion to his looks and boyish mannerisms.
“I’ll go first. Make sure it’s steady.” He said and you nodded. He made his way and climbed down the ladder, it did shake a bit but he managed to get there safely. “Come down. I’ll be right here in case you need me.” You saw him almost wink at you, you preferred to think he didn’t, to keep things professional… You began to climb down, gripping the metal bars tighter every time you felt the ladder shake, each time you looked down it was like the floor only got further, but Leon was there, holding his arms out right under you, to hold you, to save you. And the expected just happened.
You had just stepped on the third step when you felt the whole metal structure shake, and all of a sudden you saw the screws from the top lose their purpose and give up, making the whole ladder fall back with you. Closing your eyes you expected to hit the cold hard floor with your back, but, instead, you felt two strong arms secure you in their hold. Opening your eyes you looked up to see Leon’s worried expression, seeking for any sign of injuries on your face and body. You let out a loud sigh of relief. “Oh God.” You spit out, breathless. “Dammit. I knew this would happen.” You said and let out a laugh, maybe from astonishment. “Thanks.” You said and Leon smiled, letting your legs go for you to stand up but he kept his arm around your back.
“Told you I would catch you.” He smiled, his hair all wet from the rain, the flame from the helicopter illuminating his features, he was a handsome guy. That you couldn’t argue with. You wiped your hair out of your face to see the rooftop better, what you didn’t know was that your makeup was streaming down your face, if this happened days ago you would have rushed to the bathroom with your overly full hygiene bag. “Does this lever turn off the fire alarm?” Leon asked about a particular mechanism plugged into one of the large pipes.
“This turns on the sprinklers, the alarm will go off with it.” You walked towards the lever, making Leon’s arm slip away from you, he noticed how his touch seeked you involuntarily when he saw how his muscles moved towards you. Pulling on the lever you saw water start to spill out and the sound finally turned off, one less headache. “Down the stairs there is a storage room, maybe we’ll find something there.” You said and Leon nodded, following you to the room. Inside you found about three infecteds that you eliminated effortlessly, it was so upsetting that you were already growing familiar with it, they were just civilians that came to the precinct looking for help and shelter and now they were just cold bodies on the floor.
The inside of the room was messy but definitely warmer than outside. You sat down on a chair, finally feeling the tiredness wash over you. Leon handed you a towel he’d found inside a locker, you took it and dried your face, noticing the small patches of makeup staining it. You chuckled. “How cold are you?” He asked.
“Not much.” You replied and Leon came closer to press his hand against your forehead. He examined your face meticulously, his gaze landing on your lips.
“You’re freezing, your lips are colorless.” He said, pulling his hand back. “We need to get you changed, those wet clothes are only going to get you sick, and we can’t have that, can we?”
“You sound like my mom.” You chuckled.
“And you sound like a child.” He laughed, resting his back against the wall. “Do you think we’ll make it out of here?” He asked while checking his gun to make sure everything was working right. You sighed and looked around. You were both stuck in a place you were supposed to know like the palm of your hand but because of some irony from destiny, every possible way out was blocked.
“I hope so.” You said and looked down at your hands that were starting to get wrinkly because of the humidity, then back at Leon, who was looking to the door, as if he was expecting something to burst inside. “If we keep up, maybe we’ll get out. Or at least I think so…” You finished your sentence so discouraged. “It would be good if someone came out to save us.”
“Like a knight in shining armor?” Leon joked and returned his gaze to you. You laughed and agreed with him. “Maybe that Chris guy will show up.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“If he was supposed to be here, he would’ve already shown up.”
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A/n: i hate that the portuguese word "saudade" doesn't have an english translation, it was very hard to think of how to replace it lol! i'm doing much better in terms of health, i'm taking new medication and it seems to be working pretty well, thank you all for the love messages!! i have so much to do for college so updating has been a little slow, sorry about that... but i'm not giving up in this series, y'all will have to be a little patient with me :P
Taglist (sorry if i missed anyone): @vrtualvampy @dfinchr @typical-ukraine @sharkalina666 @thumbsupbutsarcastically @celesteelysia @like-gh0sts-in-sn0w @alyenna @madszoca @slovesyouuu @mushythemushroom04
Pairing: Leon Kennedy (RE2Remake) X secretary! F. Reader
Content warning: Violence and blood, cursing, somehow graphic, jealously, description of bruising, animal violence (infected dogs)
Summary: Fighting infecteds beside a handsome rookie police officer wasn't in the job description, but neither was falling in love with said man.
Tags: Leon x Reader, Reader and Leon are the same age, canon(ish) events in Resident Evil 2 (1998), slightly jealous Leon, Ada finally appears
Authors note: sorry for disappearing for like two+ weeks but i was going through a lot with college and health issues... but longer chapter to make up for my absence! but hope you enjoy this one!!
Word count: 3,426
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You both had been walking around the precinct for almost an hour now looking for pieces to solve a puzzle that, allegedly, would guarantee you access to the underground facilities of the station. The whole time you were hoping this whole situation would be a nightmare and at some point you would wake up in your bed in a cold sweat, but taking in the duration of the events you were losing hopes. You had been almost silent ever since Leon mentioned your cheating boyfriend, just small hums and ‘yes’ could be heard from you, it would be wrong to say he wasn’t worried, his attempts of initiating small chats were no use at all. Right now you were standing in front of the massive statue in the middle of the main hall figuring out where to place each of the medallions. “This is confusing, right?” Leon said, to which you replied with a low ‘mhm’, he sighed. As you were about to place the last piece of the puzzle he stopped your hand with his own. “Y/n, please say something, you have been monosyllabic for hours now, it’s starting to freak me out.”
“I’m sorry, Leon, if my life has been so shaken all of a sudden that it has taken my will to speak away from me! You don’t know how it feels to see everyone you love slipping away from your hands and not being able to do anything about it!” You snapped back and Leon’s eyes widened. “So, sorry if I would rather be silent for now.” You finished and pulled your hand back to finish placing the puzzle pieces. Leon was stunned, to say the least, he indeed had nothing to do with your personal business, he just couldn’t help his will to offer support for you, his sense of justice was speaking loud and ignoring it was hard. Finally, the ridiculously hidden room elevated from the ground revealing a presidential table and several books and documents. You walked in first, slowly analyzing the place, the first person that came to your mind was Chief Irons, having a secret room was very like him. It smelled old, dusty and almost putrid, you brushed it off, normally you would run to the closest cleaning closet and get supplies to clean up. Leon looked around and found a model of the orphanage next door.
“What’s this place?” He asked, lightly brushing the dust off from the small building and then looking around. You turned to him and saw what he was touching. You knew the R.P.D. would help the Orphanage every now and then with donations and puppy play dates, but it was weird finding such detailed work decorating the Chief of Police’s secret room. You always knew there was something off about this guy, the way he would treat every woman that got into his field of vision, how he made Cheryl become so submissive towards him and, mostly, the way he would almost devour you with his eyes every time you went into his office. Leon pulled you out of your thoughts, you didn’t even notice he was already on the other side of the room. “Y/n, check this out.” He said and you followed his voice to an elevator, you had no idea where this would take you to. Just by noticing his tone, you knew Leon wanted to go down to wherever this would take the both of you. “Come on.” He suggested and got on top of the platform, he noticed how hesitant you were. Holding out his hand he offered a smile that said ‘I’m here.’.
The way down was slow and shaky, it was almost dark except for the small lamp illuminating enough for you to see each other’s faces. Leon was everything but transparent, even though he was being honest and open towards you since the beginning you couldn’t tell how he was really feeling, that made you wonder if he was actually a tough guy or if he was just really good at pretending. “Sorry for exploding earlier, my head is full.” You apologized to him.
“No offense taken.” He replied with a smile and looked down at you, more specifically at your leg, your knee was completely covered in blood, you had forgotten about your bruised knee, the bandages Marvin made were now soaked in red. “Your knee… Y/n we need to bandage you up.”
“No, Marvin already fixed it, it’s better to leave as is.” Before you could comment on the lack of proper medical care products you heard a ripping sound. Leon had just torn off his left sleeve completely, leaving his forearm exposed. He knelt down and touched the hem of your pants before looking up at you with almost puppy eyes.
“Can I?” He asked. You nodded, not being able to form words out of your mouth. Leaning against the metal gates that protected the elevator you felt Leon lift the fabric, exposing your leg and stained bandage. He was too careful with the ‘procedure’, slowly rolling off the old gauze and stealing glances at you in search of any kind of discomfort or pain, you didn’t know but while exploring the precinct he found some herbs and antisceptical sprays. “This is going to burn a little, you can squeeze my arm, it won’t hurt me.” He warned beforehand. You brushed it off because you were an adult afterall, a little medicine wouldn’t hurt, then you found out you overestimated your own pain tolerance. Wincing in pain, your hand grabbed Leon’s shoulder and squeezed hard, nails digging into his skin through his shirt, it probably left a mark or two, he lightly blew on the bruise to relieve the sensation, he quickly wrapped his sleeve around it and tied it tightly to prevent more blood from pouring. “Okay, okay, there we go! It’s over, good job!” He pulled your pant down in place and and your hand out of his shoulder before standing up and tapping the top of your head in an affectionate way. You looked up at him and your eyes met, he smiled. “See? You were almost as brave as a third grader taking a flu shot.” He joked and you lightly punched his arm.
“Thanks.” You smiled at him before feeling the elevator hitting the floor, indicating you were now on the very last floor of the building. Turning his flashlight on you couldn’t precisely make out where you were, it was a dark cemented hallway with metal staircases and a high quantity of barrels and trash. Even though you knew the R.P.D. like the palm of your hand you had no idea of where you were. It smelled like gas and steam, maybe there was a leak. Leon looked at you hoping you knew what this place was, you nodded, equally confused. He took the first step towards a gated door and pushed it open, inside were maybe dozens of steam powered machines, the temperature rose so fast it made you shake your blouse in an unsuccessful attempt of relieving the warm sensation. You could notice small sweat particles dripping down Leon’s neck, you realized you were staring when he called you out.
“You alright?” He said oblivious to you checking him out.
“Yeah, um… Where do we go?” You quickly replied.
“I don’t know, you’re the one working here.” He said and started walking around the place.
“Well I wasn’t really required to get down under the garage.” You laughed following him around, you both climbed some stairs and went down others, this place seemed like a maze, everywhere you went looked exactly like the one you had just come from. Everything was weirdly quiet, maybe the infecteds didn’t make their way down there.
Just before Leon could make one of his jokes you both heard a loud crash behind you, turning around you saw a… Creature? A semi-human shaped thing with a long meat-like arm and a huge yellow eye growing out of its shoulder cornered you both, you could notice the human part belonged to a blond man wearing what looked like laboratory attire. Firing your gun at it was helpless, sure, the creature backed off a bit but went back on its feet and kept on getting closer to you. Swinging his arms in an attempt to hit you, you managed to dodge them, except for the one that threw you against one of the machines, steam hitting your face making your vision go blurry and your vocal chords let out a loud agonizing scream. The, now, monster seemed entertained by your pain and insisted on you, that’s when Leon fired his own gun hitting the eye from behind.
“Hey! Over here!” He screamed, getting the thing’s attention, which quickly turned around and went for him instead. Between sprints, dodges and bullets, Leon managed to tire it out a bit, which gave you enough time to get you back on your feet and help him. You were out of bullets but full of desperation to get out of that situation. Looking around and thinking fast you saw a metal pipe laying on the floor, grabbing it with both of your hands you ran towards the both of them and hit the human part right in the head, making it roar out loud. Leon took the split second and pulled out the knife Marvin gave to him earlier and stabbed the creature in the big eye, earning a second scream of pain. Noticing he was losing strength, Leon started cornering the creature towards a balcony-like structure; he couldn’t see the bottom, but the fall would certainly end things for it. Each shot fired at the humanoid made it walk back even more before hitting the railings, Leon rushed towards it and used his body strength to finish pushing it into the void, looking down he could hear the sound of water splashing, indicating this might not have been the last encounter.
Dropping the metal pipe down Leon almost flinched from the sound as you collapsed on the floor, he ran towards you. Holding you up by your upper body, Leon stared at your face, now visibly red from the burning hot steam and glistening with sweat, some of your hairs were sticking to your face and your eyes were almost rolling into the back of your skull. You breathed heavily but in sintony with Leon, he brushed your cheek lightly and you whimpered in pain. “It’s alright, it doesn’t look too bad, the redness will fade away.” He gently pushed you up to carry you away from that place into a sort of machinery room that looked safe enough for you to recompose yourself. He handled you inside and sat you down in a chair while he searched for resources. Taking your gun from your belt he recharged it with some bullets he found along the fight, just to make sure, you smiled weakly.
“Thanks, again.” You said almost out of breath. “Give me a minute, I’ll get back up.” Suddenly all of the exhaustion hit you like a train, the adrenaline finally faded away and you were left in a sweaty mess. Leon pulled a chair and sat down beside you.
“Don’t worry, I can wait two minutes.” He said. Even though you both almost died he still insisted on making his dad jokes. It sounded weird to think that this was the moment you felt more at peace, even though you knew that creature was still alive and searching for you, this very moment with Leon beside you was calm, quiet except for the hissing of the broken pipes. Still breathing through your mouth you felt your heart slow down and relief build up. “Any idea of how to get out of here?” Leon asked.
“No, I haven't really been to this area.” You laughed. “Wonder where Claire is right now, maybe she found Chris afterall.” This last sentence made Leon’s mouth fill up with bitterness, this was the third or fourth time you mentioned this guy. He knew better than to be nosy about your business and to develop some stupid crush on someone he just met, he’s a grown man with tasks to do and he was worried about how you felt about someone else?
“Who’s this Chris guy you keep mentioning?” His lips spoke before his mind could. Realizing his mistake he turned his head away from you, trying to act nonchalant.
“He’s a cop, specifically part of S.T.A.R.S., a subdivision of the police district, mostly used for special operations and things like that, he’s one of the shooters.” You explained but noticed this didn’t quite fulfill Leon’s interest. “When I started working here he was already a veteran but, after Marvin, he was one of the ones that welcomed me the most with that silly mug I used to store my pens inside. When the days were boring he would swing by my table to chat with me. Really nice guy.” You finished, what Leon didn’t know was that everything you just said about Chris was completely platonic, he was like an older brother to you, or even a close colleague, but you knew he was not interested in dating you at all and neither were you.
Dusting off his hands Leon got up and stretched. “Come on, I want to get the hell out of here.” He said, a tone of sympathy still lacing his voice even though he just heard you confessing your feelings for someone else. He offered his hand and you accepted the help to get up, tripping on your own foot he caught you just before you fell. “Take it easy.”
“I know. I’m all good now.” You replied with a smile and both of you left that steamy place. Walking with Leon was easy, he would throw a joke or two after shooting an infected effortlessly in the head. Finally finding a ladder at the end of the hall you decide to check it out, Leon climbed in first and pushed up something that looked like a sewer top and was greeted with bright lights. After his pupils adjusted to the brightness he realized you managed to get to the garage.
“I think we found the garage!” He screamed from the top. “Can you climb up? Is your knee okay?”
“Yeah! Just give me a hand at the end!” You screamed back and began to pull yourself up the ladder, leaving your arms and one leg to do the job, preventing pressure on your bruise. Finally making it up you saw his hand stretched out for you, reaching for it he almost completely pulled you up.
“Gotcha.” He said helping you out of the hole and into the floor. “You know how to open that gate?”
“Yeah, I just need my keycard. Go look inside the cars for keys.” You ordered him to and got up to walk to the key reader right beside the gate that was partially blocked by police cars. Patting your pockets your heart dropped. What happened to your keycard? You could have swore you made sure to get it before leaving the main hall. Pushing your hands into your pockets and pulling out lint you cursed under your breath. “Just my luck.”
“Something wrong?” Leon asked while holding a key. “Found this on the floor, just open the gate and we’ll be out of here.”
“Leon, we can’t get out.” You said.
“What?”
“My keycard, I don’t have it.” You replied worryingly. Leon’s face drained from color but he tried to keep his composure and not show any signs of uncertainty. Before he could speak the both of you heard a low animalistic growl from behind you, almost as if it was a dog. Turning around you saw one of the precinct dogs in attack position, you knew those dogs and you knew he was just scared. Kneeling down slowly you attempted an approach. “Easy, boy… It’s okay…” You said calmly, tuning your voice up to seem more friendly towards it. Offering your hand you expected the dog to do the standard: lower his ears, wag his tail and walk to you. Taking a better look you noticed bruises, deep cuts, torn pieces of flesh and irisless eyes. You had no time to react before the dog launched at full speed towards you, not barking, but grunting. Leon pushed you out of the way to take the impact for you, when you hit the floor he was fighting with the dog, pushing and screaming for it to get away. You tried to reach for your gun but didn’t feel it in your belt, looking to the side you saw it slid away from you somewhere in the concrete floor; basically crawling on the floor you kept on looking for the gun.
“Get off of me!” Leon screamed and tried to reach for his own gun that also slipped away from the impact. “Y/n!” Was the last thing heard before a shot that hit the dog right in the neck, terminating it instantly. Looking at the limp body on the floor you felt bad, poor puppy had no idea he was harming the people that looked out for him, you noticed Leon was also staring at it with shock in his eyes, not sure where the shot came from.
“Hey.” A feminine voice pulled both of you out of your thoughts. Looking up you saw a silhouette wearing a big coat and sunglasses that reflected the headlights from the car parked outside of the gate.
“Who is that?” Leon asked as you helped him gut his upper body up.
“Stay sharp.” The woman said making Leon perk up and shoot the still moving dog a second time, preventing it from getting back up. You both moved your sight to her again. She began walking towards you, Leon aimed his gun at her, putting his arm in front of your body, you also had your gun prepared behind your back. “Lower it.” The woman came in sight, you now could notice she had short black hair but still couldn’t make out her face completely. “You too.” She turned her head to you, how did she know you were also armed? Pulling a small distinctive from her pocket she showed an FBI badge and credential. “FBI. Now drop it.” Both you and Leon stored your guns back in place.
“Sorry… Thank you-” Leon began but was interrupted by another shot in the dog, how resistant were those things? “For your help.” He finished.
“Surprised you made it this far.” She spoke and started walking around the garage. You helped Leon up and he thanked you with a nod. You shot him a confused look, your eyebrow raising, he shook his head signaling he was as confused as you.
“What do you mean by that?” You asked. The woman looked behind and to you with a smug grin. “What’s going on here?”
“Sorry. That information is classified.” She replied in a joke tone but kept walking away from the both of you. You were already prepared to take your own way and out of this place, but Leon was more insistent.
“Where are you going?” He asked, still following her.
“Do yourself a favor.” She began, annoyed and turning around. She took a good look at Leon and then at you, if you could see her eyes you certainly could have seen the disinterest in her look. “Stop asking questions and get the hell out of here.” She finished and walked away from you into a door with a green light on top.
“Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” Leon said and ran after her, you followed him in an attempt of stopping him. You crossed the doorframe and were greeted with a long hallway and a metal door.
“Leon, let’s just go…” You said before stopping to analyze the place, you knew where you were, the kennel, the shooting range, the morgue, everything. You knew for sure entering this place unprepared was guaranteed trouble taking in the situation of the city. Leon looked out of place, as if he had just seen a ghost. “You okay?” You tapped his shoulder.
“Yeah, um… Sure, um- do you know where to find more ammo?” He asked.
“I do…”
“Then lead the way, miss.” He said with that charming face of his. You knew you were doomed.
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A/n: so basically i went missing because: college assignments, work and i also am battling a severe case of gastritis that is tearing my insides up, but i'm on new meds so things are starting to look a lot better! and i also won the great bts ticketmaster war!!! still can't believe i'm seeing my favorite people live in october! for those curious about the aeon x reader oneshot, i'm working on it! it currently has a little more than 6k words because i got carried away lol
Taglist (sorry if i missed anyone): @vrtualvampy @dfinchr @typical-ukraine @sharkalina666 @thumbsupbutsarcastically @celesteelysia @like-gh0sts-in-sn0w @alyenna @madszoca @slovesyouuu
You come home to Leon drunk, AGAIN, and you realize you just can't do this anymore.
TW + tags: Vendetta! Leon x DSO! Gn! Reader; use of y/n im sorry 😞; 4k+ words; leon is an alcoholic; mentions of reader self harm; angst; denial of addiction; leons kinda a dick for a sec; DESPERATE LEON MMMM; reader has a past with alcoholics, happy ending,
a/n: Uhhh I know this kinda butchered the timeline of vendetta I’m sorry i had to do it for the sake of the story
Although i do proofread my work its still prone to errors because I’m dyslexic ^_^
You sighed, slipping your key into the lock, twisting it until you heard a click. It was another grueling, demanding day of work. A three hour briefing of an upcoming mission for a couple of agents had drained the social battery out of you and stolen your night away.. Your watch read 12;27. You were ready to go inside, heat up some leftovers, collapse onto your bed, and cuddle up against your husband till sleep consumed you.
You pushed the door open and leaned against the wall, lazily slipping off your shoes and pushing them out of the way into a previously existing unordered pile. You closed the door behind you and locked it, rubbing your eyes and placing your jacket onto a coat hanger above the pile of shoes.
“I’m home!” You shouted into an empty abyss. You knew Leon was around here somewhere, you saw his car in the driveway, and his shoes were also messily placed by the door. But where he was in the house was beyond you. You slipped into the living room, tossing up a blanket on the couch to see if he was under it (although it was very obvious he wasn't)
You started to walk towards his office when out of the corner of your eye, you saw a dark shadow sitting at the kitchen island. You turned your head, and noticed his slumped over, unconscious body, presented in the dim warm light of the kitchen. A smile crept over you, as you walked over towards him. You stood running your hand through his hair, watching his small quiet breaths in and out.
You ran your eyes over the scene in front of you, your initial reaction was to assume he passed out some paperwork while waiting for you to come home. Before you could come up with another domestic scenario, you noticed it. A nearly empty bottle of whiskey sitting beside him on the counter. No glass (nor decency to not drink straight out of the bottle) just a bottle with a couple of drops congregating at the bottom.
You felt your face heat up, not with embarrassment, or sadness, but with anger. This was the 12th time you’d come home to him like this. By now you should’ve just assumed if he was passed out at an unconventional spot, he was passed out drunk.
The past 12 times, You’d tried to be sympathetic, kind, understanding, and help him break this unhealthy habit before it became worse. Before past situations reformed and became present ones. You’d seen this all before. Clearly your words of advice weren't getting to him. But this was getting ridiculous. There was only so much help a person could offer, so much patience before things boiled over with words that were thought but left unsaid.
So… like any rational person would, you picked up the glass bottle residing beside him, and slammed it onto the floor. The bottle shattered and broke onto the wood. Leon practically jumped out of his skin, immediately into fight mode.
He fought through the exhaustion and fuzzy vision, immediately calming down as he noticed your form towering over him. His gaze drifted to the bottle on the floor then back at you.
“The hell-”
“This is ridiculous. This has become ridiculous. You want to know how many times I’ve come home to this? 12 times. 12 times, Leon.”
“What…” He slurred, his tone bordering on irritation.
“I have been patient, I have been kind, I’ve tried my best to be sympathetic” You rattled off, counting on your fingers. He stared at you with a stare and an expression that continued to swap between blunt confusion and annoyance. Right as he was about to open his mouth to speak, you started to ramble more.
“Is it just not enough? Am I not enough? I want to help you, I know the shit you’ve gone through is worse than the average human can comprehend, but I want to help! I want to do something. I’ve spoken to you personally, and I’ve tried to let you talk to me on your own time. But now? Now I don't know what to do. I just can't keep coming home to this.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” He asked, his brows furrowed, his body relaxing against the kitchen counter again.
“The drinking, Leon!” You yelled at him, finally letting it all boil over into a volume that wasn't used for everyday conversation. His body tensed again and he sat up once more. “I’m not gonna keep coming home to a man that's slumped over, covered in his own drool, and that smells like pure whiskey. Its one thing to let loose every once in a while, but this is fucking ridiculous. Sure, it was in the vows to be there for you, and help you through stuff- sickness and in health-, but how the hell am I supposed to help you if you wont let me! I can't do this shit anymore, this cat and mouse game! You need help!”
His silence was deafening and he just stared at you with a dumb stare that couldn't tell you if he was really listening and contemplating your words, or if everything was going in one ear and out the other. What could you expect from a drunk guy? Both of you looked at one another for a long while, your chest rose with heavy frustrated breaths. It was a long time before he said anything else.
“You’re over exaggerating. I don’t need help. Just cause a guy gets drunk every now and then doesn't make it a problem.” God you had never wanted to slap him harder in your life.
“I’ve met alcoholics Leon. I’ve lived with them. You're an alcoholic. This isn't an every now-and-then thing. Ive come home to this twelve times in two months! I can't imagine what goes on when I'm not around” You explained with a sigh, trying not to yell at him again.
“Because you have a past with alcoholics doesn’t make me one. You’re just freaked out. You're making this into something its not.” His words made you feel belittled, like your previous experiences were nothing. Like this whole thing was nothing. Your next words practically poured out of you before you could even think.
“The entire DSO can smell you before you even enter a room because you wreak of alcohol. The rest of us? Your friends, Leon, were not stupid. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you have a problem. We all know youre not stupid, so stop playing dumb and get some fucking help! I’ve already been through this shit once. I’m not gonna sit here and wait for one of us to get hurt waiting. You need help! This isn't a healthy way to cope!”
You stood there, your mind was vexed and all you wanted to do was get him to understand. Clearly he needed a reality check, and If screaming at him for the next hour and a half would help, you would continue doing it.
But of course, his mouth worked quicker than his intoxicated mind.
“Oh yeah cause you know all about healthy coping mechanisms. I’ve seen the shit you've done to your legs.” Almost immediately as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. It didn’t require a sober conscious to know he fucked up in 9 words. He sat there, unmoving, watching as you stood in front of him, your eyes wide and quickly glazing over with tears.
You hummed, your frustration dissipating and embarrassment replacing it. Embarrassed that you had trusted him enough to let him in on a vulnerable part of your life, just for it to be used against you when all you wanted to do was help. You stood up straight, your throat was tight and it was hard to swallow.
His irritated expression quickly resorted to a guilty one. He opened his mouth like he wanted to speak. You stared at each other once more before you decided you had TRULY had enough of this. Your threats of abandoning him were about to become reality. You turned on your heel, making a beeline to the bedroom, wiping away the tears before they could even fall. He frantically stood up, stumbling over his feet trying to follow you, trying to fix this.
“I’m sorry. Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean it” He tried to grab your wrist as you both made it to the bedroom. You fumbled with the closet door and pulled out your suitcase. He watched, trying to support himself against the door frame.
You unzipped the bag and started to pile miscellaneous clothes into your bag, some underwear, shirts, jeans, a couple office wear outfits for work (that may or may not have matched). Leon staggered his way in front of you, gently trying to grab at your shoulders.
“Please, I'm sorry. Don’t leave. I didn’t mean it.” He slurred. Maybe it was the alcohol or his guilty conscience, but he wiped himself of his dignity and slid onto his knees. His eyes bore into yours and he pleaded with you. You continued to ignore him, sliding your necessary skincare and makeup into a small travel bag and zipping that up too. You ripped your phone charger and laptop charger out of the wall, threw that on top of all your clothes chaotically placed in your luggage.
“Y/n please stop..” He begged, desperation in his dilated eyes. He watched as you walked around the bedroom, grabbing whatever you needed. The small and miscellaneous items that he rarely noticed but made the room felt devoid of life. He felt helpless, and he knew this feeling was nothing more than the consequences of his own actions. Now he had to sit here and watch as it unfolded.
Finally, you zipped up the bag and tossed it onto the floor. You knelt down, grabbing his chin and forcing his pathetic face to look at you. You studied his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, the dark circles under his eyes and dry lips; no doubt the result of the immense quantity of alcohol swarming around in his blood stream.
“I’m leaving for a couple of days. By the time I’m back you better have your shit together or you can consider this, done.” Tears strolled down his eyes as he looked at you, and you were pretty sure this was the first time you’d ever seen him cry. As much as you wanted to coddle him and tell him he would be fine, that you weren't going to leave, you’d given him his chance. Multiple chances, infact. You’d tried to help him. If he wanted you to stay bad enough he’d fix it himself.
You let go of his face and stood up. pulling your luggage behind you, past him, past your shared bedroom, and passed the shards of glass. He pushed himself up off the floor, tripping and gripping the open dresser drawers as he struggled to follow after you.
“Please.. don't leave!” He shouted, not in an angry tone, but in a desperate, last pathetic attempt. Like you were his lifeline and he just couldn't bear to part with you. But It certainly hadn't felt that way the past 12 times you'd come home to him drunk. You ignored him and pulled your keys off the counter. You were out the door before you could make the terrible decision to stay.
By the time you even made it to a hotel you had 23 messages on your phone from Leon. All of them read something along the lines of: I’m sorry, please come back, where are you staying? when will you be back? Can I come see you?
You turned off your location because the last thing you needed was for him to drive in his intoxicated state.
By the time you made it to your room- which was about 13 messages later- he seemed to have given up (or passed out drunk), and it was now radio silence. You continued your nightly routine without his presence by your side, and although the weight of the argument was on your mind, it couldn't overpower your need for sleep.
Your morning was also fairly normal, still no new texts or calls from Leon. The only thing your routine suffered from was a lack of color coordination the night before when you hurriedly stuffed a couple of outfits into a bag. You arrived at work as per usual, and PRAYED Leon wasn't waiting in your office for you. You let out a sigh of relief when you finally sat down at your desk, no flowers, no card, no mile long email, and best of all, no leon- at least yet.
You went about work as you normally would, the argument the night prior lingered on your mind. Were you too hard on him? Should you have tried to comfort him again? insecurity started to creep into your mind. Despite what your mind telling you, in your heart you knew you weren't wrong. It wasn't wrong for you to not want to live with an alcoholic again, to suffer abuse again. Leon knew your past, and you just couldn’t help but think he wasn't taking it seriously.
By lunch you were starting to get concerned. As much as you were dreading another confrontation with Leon, at work nonetheless, you hadn’t received another text since around 1:30 last night. Was he okay?
“Whatever” You mumbled to yourself, trying not to let your anxiety get to you. You swiped your keys off your desk, taking long strides through the building towards the elevator. Coincidentally, Leon's secretary, Amanda, also happened to be making her way towards the elevator too.
She was a nice lady, only a couple years older than you and Leon. She wore Red framed glasses with the thickest lenses you had ever seen. So thick that without looking you could swear her ID read “legally blind”. She had gorgeous dark red hair that ran all the way down to her thighs. But most of the time she kept it tied up in a bun. She was pale as a ghost and god forbid she stood in the sun, she could burn to a crisp in 5 minutes if she decided to not wear sunscreen on a cloudy day.
The elevator arrived at your floor with a ding. You and Amanda entered, offering each other a smile, your polite expressions mirrored on the metal grey door as it slid shut.
“Out for lunch?” She asked, fumbling with a couple folders in her arms.
“Yea. You?” You replied, a yawn following at the end of your sentence. It seemed your lack of sleep last night was getting to you.
“Nah. Copy room on this floor is too busy. First floors copy room is never busy” She hummed, and silence fell over the two of you, you stared at the blurry reflection of yourself on the metal doors, before deciding to take advantage of this moment with Amanda.
“Have you seen Leon yet?” You questioned, turning to her. As you conversed with her you could see your reflection in her thick lenses. You prayed it was just a warped likeness and you really didn’t look that terrible.
“Nope. Why? Do you need me to send him a message or something?”
“No, quite the opposite actually.”
“Uh oh, trouble in paradise?”
“More like a hurricane in paradise.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really. You know where he's at though? So I can avoid him?”
“He's on a mission. He was sent through the BSAA to New York City around 30 minutes ago. I figured he told you-”
“Shit.” You cut her off unintentionally, running your hand down your face. The elevator made it to the first floor and you practically stormed out of there the moment those doors opened.
15 minutes later you found yourself sitting at a table of a locally owned cafe waiting for your food. You stared daggers at your phone resting on the table. Leon's contact page wide open. A blank text message and his desperate texts from last night displayed. That stupid cursor blinked back and forth as if challenging you to say something. You were caught between sending him an instantaneous apology text; or leaving him in bitter silence until he got back. That was IF he got back.
You knew whatever the hell you typed wouldn’t be sincere. Though you did not feel guilt for calling him out on his bullshit behaviour. You felt guilt for your abrupt leave being his potentially last encounter with you. That argument being his last words shared with you. Anything could happen on a mission. You knew that very well from the frequent funerals of DSO agents you attended.
Those words you wanted to say never transcribed into a full sentence. Many messages went unsent then were deleted. Your head screamed at you to text him something, anything so your absence wouldn't be the last thing you said to him. The day went by and although your work was completed that message was the only thing that remained unaccomplished.
So now you sat, watching the week go by. With each passing hour you felt guiltier for not saying anything. That unresolved guilt became anger very quickly. You were angry with him, yourself, the whole world. You consulted with your friend to help with the text but to much avail you never sent anything. You bugged Amanda every other hour for an update on Leon and the mission status, but after he arrived in New York City he went off the radar.
You wished the static of radio silence filled your head. So that sound could overpower the doubt and guilt in your mind. You prayed Leon would come home just so you could yell at him one more time. So he could pass out drunk and you could wake him with the vengeful destruction of a bottle. So You could see those icy blue eyes of his disappear behind the dilation of his pupil. Him on his knees begging for you to stay. This time it would be different. He would listen to your concerns and take them to heart. Realize you were right and that this anger you expressed was for his well being.
Was it selfish to want that? To have the same scenario reoccur and expect a different outcome?
You lay awake in bed at night, staring at the ceiling wondering where he was. If he was alive. Was he dying, staring at his phone, rereading previous text messages whilst silently praying you would send him one final text?
Finally after two weeks you stopped asking Amanda about Leon’s whereabouts.
You treated his absence as if he were already dead. Life went by in one long never ending stream. You couldn’t remember when this feeling of nothing began and when it would end. To forget it all you embraced work. Staying up till the wee hours of the night and beginning in the quiet hours of the morning.
You thought about the immense amount of work you were doing. You laughed to yourself at the irony and realized maybe you were just as bad as Leon. He drowned himself in alcohol to forget his thoughts and to forget your thoughts you drowned yourself in work.
It was going on a month since you had last heard and seen Leon. At least, that's what your calendar said. In your mind it felt like months, a year even. You drove home in the quiet of the night, your phone read 2:00 AM. Music played from your car's speaker at an unhealthy volume. Some bland pop song blasting throughout the vehicle because you heard somebody say once “it's hard to feel sad when you're listening to pop music” which in a way was right. (but you were pretty sure this was the 18th time you had heard this song this week)
You parked your car, and as you cut the engine the music cut as well, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of silence. You walked to the front door, the solar porch light buzzing at a low frequency. You slid your key into the lock and hummed the tune to the pop song you were previously listening to. Curse that obnoxiously catchy beat now you were going to have that song stuck in your head for the whole night.
You locked the door behind you and kicked off your shoes. You threw off your jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. You sighed and made your way towards the kitchen, but halfway there you froze. Through the silence of the night you heard a sound behind the front door. Whoever was behind it attempted to turn the door handle, only to be stopped by the lock.
You turned around slowly, trying not to move suddenly and make any noise that might alert the intruder. You heard the sound of something sliding into the lock. Presumably a lock pick. You ran to the bedroom, already recalling the safe’s code that held Leon's emergency gun. You opened the closet doors, shoving aside Leon's jackets. The safe made a quiet beep with every number typed in.
It clicked open and before your fingers could wrap around the gun you heard your name being called.
You froze, convincing yourself that wasn’t who you thought it was. You were hearing things and this was just a part of the grief process. Your fingers gently wrapped around the gun, clicking off the safety. Footsteps thumped and became closer and closer.
“Y/n?” You turned your head slowly. You told yourself you were hallucinating. Or a nightmare crossed over into a dream. Somewhere in reality you were passed out at your desk still at the DSO. Regardless of your doubts, you still stood up and ran to him. Abandoning the gun and enveloping yourself in Leon’s arms. You stayed quiet and allowed yourself to feel his breath along your neck, his heartbeat against your chest, his hands around your back.
If this was a hallucination you still took advantage of the feeling of him next to you. Even if it was your mind playing tricks on you. Who knows when you might meet him again in your dreams.
“I’m so sorry.” He mumbled against your neck, the vibration carrying itself through your skin. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I should’ve listened to you. I fucked up and I’m so sorry for it.”
You said nothing but your appreciation wasn't lost in the way you held him tighter. You two stood like that for a while longer. His warm breath caressed your skin and his hands greedily pushed you closer to him to hold you tighter. That's when you knew then that this wasn't a hallucination.
“I have something for you..” He mumbled into your shoulder. You two separated and he guided you to sit down on the edge of the bed. He flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, both of you blinked rapidly as you adjusted to its light.
You watched intently as he pulled something out of his pocket. Now that you could both see you noticed something about him. You leaned in closer, studying his face. His skin was clear, His hair was brushed neatly, and most importantly he smelled clean. And it wasn’t that he didn’t normally smell clean. But for the first time in a while, his presence wasn't laced with the stench of whiskey.
“Here we go.” He muttered, pulling out a small coin. He held your wrist and turned it over with all the care in the world. Your palm faced upward, forbearingly he placed the coin in your hand. Your gaze slowly descended to the chip in your hand. Handling it as if it were the most precious diamond in the world, you brought it closer to your face to read.
In clear Ariel fonted words it read “One Week Sober”.
Your eyes looked into Leons again, then back at the chip.
“Are you serious?” You pondered, staring into his eyes for clarification. He smiled softly, eyes glaring into yours.
“I’m serious.” He professed, grabbing your free hand. He smiled, one that finally met his eyes. One that wasn’t weighed down by the side effects of alcohol.
You grinned and launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing him into a tight embrace.
“I’m so proud of you.”
Uhm would anybody want to read part 2 and its reader helping leon with alcohol withdrawal and possible relapse i feel like nobody talks about the withdrawal and recovery part of an addiction enough :(
