You Tell Me You Hate Me, Baby (Yeah I Bet You Do)
You Tell Me You Hate Me, Baby (Yeah I Bet You Do)
FORGET ME TOO PART 1
Summary: When the faithful abandon their duty…what is it that remains? When Aemond return home from yet another visit to see Alys and their son, he finds that there are consequences to his infidelity. Consequences he not only did not expect, but does not like.
Note: This one came to me fast and I just started writing it. It aint perfect, but it sure is about the vibes here.
Part 2
Word Count: 5.2k+
I spoke in quiet tones with the Queen over the table as we broke our fast. Even with the room empty, one never knew who was listening in the Red Keep. The walls themselves seemed to have ears. And it was a fact that I had grown to dread more and more as I learned that just as much as the walls had ears, they had mouths too. Mouths that created rumors and malicious whispers, then caused them to run rampant. The types of rumors and whispers that would tear you apart to the very core of your being while you just had to endure it. The pain they caused was not allowed to matter - not if you wanted to act as though the words were not true. And I could not handle it any longer. I should not have to handle it in the first place. That much I was sure of.
“I am asking you to understand, my Queen,” I said in a sharper whisper than I had before. “I can no longer do this. And it is cruel enough to me that I have been forced to remain in such a situation this long. Word has gotten out. Why should my reputation suffer further than it already has? Why should I continue to endure this humiliation as I have been? A humiliation that only grows worse by the day. My brother is already angry enough to storm south and take me home himself, even if that required your son’s head on a pike.”
“You cannot simply leave, Y/N, you must know that,” Alicent said quietly, voice closer to begging, to pleading, than it was to demanding. “There are rumors, yes, but there is no proof. The rumors will die down. They always do when given time. All will be well once more when that happens. I will talk to my son. I will make it so. This shall not haunt you forever.”
My hands clenched into fists where they sat on my lap. “Your son does not care for me any more today than he did on the day we met,” I snapped. “It will not magically be well. It cannot be magically well again when it never was - nothing could make it so.” I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes. Opened them again. “Alicent. I am begging you to hear me. He has a lover. His lover has had his child now. A son. He is never here because he is with them. He is with your grandchild.”
Her gaze darkened, my words troubling her and making her sad. But it didn’t matter how much she liked or cared for me. I wasn’t her son. And he was what mattered to her. I knew that. I prepared myself for whatever tirade she would go on, and still, as with every other time we’d had this unending conversation, found myself surprised.
“You cannot say such reckless things,” she insisted. “There is no proof. He merely takes Vhagar on rides and patrols as he must. He is not doing something so insidious as having another family. You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking of such! A good wife does not put weight into such unsubstantiated rumors.”
I leaned against the table, then covered my mouth with my hands feeling utterly exhausted. “Alicent. He told me so himself,” I said shortly. “He told me that Alys Rivers is the one that he loves - the only one that he could ever love. He told me he loathed me for keeping him from the only family which he found to be true. He told me that they had a son and that she was the only one he’d ever see carry his children. That she was the only one he would be a true family with. The words came from his own mouth. And if you do not trust my own word, well then the next time he sees fit to show up I recommend you ask him.” I scoffed. “Better yet, my Queen, ask your Master of Whispers. I am sure he has information on it for you should you ask for it.”
Alicent’s hands were shaking and she started picking at the skin around her nails. I sighed and immediately intercepted her, grabbing her hands and holding them to stop her. She stilled in the destruction she was doing, but her hands still had a light tremor to them. She looked upset. Genuinely so. Part of me felt bad. Part of me understood the unending stress she had endured since she was a mere girl-made-Queen. Part of me, though - the larger part, in fact - had grown to be colder than the home I’d left behind in Winterfell and just didn’t care for her pain anymore.
“Let me…please let me just be a Stark once more. I don’t…I don’t even ask you to let me go home to Winterfell. I know that you cannot grant me such a thing. But implore the Septons to annul this wedding. We didn’t have a bedding ceremony. He has not touched me. I am a woman grown. Just let me go. I have no desire to remain in this sham and have to make both our lives so needlessly fucking miserable. Alicent…please. If you ever cared about Aemond. If you ever cared about me. Just…please let this end. I will speak no ill of him to others. Of any of you. Not even to Cregan - I will keep the truth from my own brother if that is what you require, my Queen. I don’t care. I don’t even ask for revenge or retribution as you of all people would know I’d be well within my right to do. So just…please let me go,” I pled.
The Queen looked hesitant. But, I could tell that the tide was turning and she was coming to see my side. “You…you give up too easily on this, Y/N. You cannot do such a thing,” she said firmly.
“I do not give up! I have waited over three years of marriage for your son to even pretend he can stand my presence and he cannot even grant me that much respect,” I said, unable to help the tears of both frustration and humiliation from rising in my eyes. “He will chart the fucking constellations in her eyes and I doubt he could even name the color of mine. He knows nothing of me and cares not to. And to be frank? I have long since given up a desire to care for anything related to him. How could I not? I have been patient. I have been understanding. I have been kind. I have been loyal - to him, to the Targaryens, to the fucking Hightowers! And what have I gotten out of it? Less than nothing! Separated from my family and the only home I knew! With people who do not care for me at all! I am no fool who thinks life is fair, but I would think that maybe you could understand my frustration at all of this!”
“We cannot do such a thing,” she said. Alicent’s eyes were impassive and she looked me over. Analytical. Looking for weakness. The sharp, shrewd look was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Her mouth came into a line, veering just slightly into the territory of a frown. “We could not afford to lose the alliance with your house. I am sure you understand that, Lady Stark. I am…am sorry.”
My jaw clenched in anger. I couldn’t help it at this point. “If you are that concerned with maintaining the relationship with my family then you should listen to me, Queen Alicent,” I warned. “I mean it when I say that Cregan intends to march here himself with a thousand Northmen if that’s what it takes to free me from this. He is no fool. He receives word just as every other nobleman. I did not even need to tell him for him to know. He is furious that I have been held in such a situation this long. And I have no desire to stop any aim of his to retrieve me. Why would I?” I shook my head. “Your best bet to maintaining the alliance is by letting me go. Marry me off to your other fucking son and send me to Oldtown if your concern remains that great. I would take that - I would take anything - over the humiliation that I have already endured. We both know that the Targaryens do stranger things than switching wives.”
She blinked in shock. “Is that a threat?” she asked sharply.
I’d lost her, then. Her minor willingness to listen had evaporated into nothing. I let out a sigh and rose to my feet. “No, my Queen. It wasn’t a threat. It was a statement of fact. A statement of the future that will quite literally storm the doors of the Red Keep if allowed to happen,” I said. “I shall leave you to think in peace, Your Grace.”
Without being granted leave, I exited. I nodded to Ser Cole, standing faithfully at the door as always. My own guard, Ser Rydan Carron, appointed to me by the King himself upon my wedding to Aemond, stepped off the wall, following me not even a full step behind me. I nodded to those who greeted me with combinations of Lady Y/N, Lady Stark, and Princess. I kept my face impassive as I moved towards my chambers, looking bored and blank rather than upset. I heard their whispers, heard the words of my husband’s actions swirling behind me. I pretended to be oblivious as was always required. It was only in the peace of my room that I openly let out the curses I had been building up.
“Gods, Y/N,” Rydan chuckled, “Based on that ladylike tirade, I take it that the conversation did not go to your liking.”
I leveled him with a glare. “Fuck you, Rydan,” I said simply. I scoffed and shook my head. “Of course it didn’t. The Queen would rather we all be fucking tortured than do what will ultimately be the best choice for everyone involved.”
Rydan hummed in acknowledgment. “Good as your stupid husband is with a blade, he remains untested in true battle. I do not. I could run him through with a sword the next time he returns and have us safely on the way to your brother before they’d even notice his body had gone cold.” A kind offer, if entirely impractical. He smirked then. “Or if that doesn’t suit your fancy, I could just kill you. Frame him for your death. Cregan will well and truly wage war upon them if I do that for you.”
I laughed at his words, the sound startled from my lips more than anything intentional. I reached out and squeezed his arm in appreciation. “Most kind of you to offer, Ser. But alas, I think that is a terrible idea so I will have to refuse. The both of them,” I said. My lips fell back into their half frown. I gestured to one of the couches in my antechamber, sitting in one myself. Rydan took the one opposite me, a look of vague amusement on his face at my lackluster refusal. “I wish I could accept it though, in truth. The first one. It would be well deserved but I…I cannot.”
He nodded, pursing his lips. “Stark honor,” he said, with faux wisdom in his voice. He gave me a goofy smile and I rolled my eyes. He reached over to the table in front of him, picking up the book he’d set there the day prior. “Shall I continue off where we were yesterday, Princess?”
“Never call me that,” I said after fake gagging. I relaxed on the couch until I was more laying than sitting. I allowed my eyes to drift up to the ceiling and tucked my feet under myself. I looked at him. “Go on then, read to me.”
Rydan opened the book, a long tale that one of the foremost authors of Westeros had written. A rare first edition with the author’s notes. My favorite book, and a gift from the King at my wedding. A generous gift. A well-loved one. Far more generous and well-loved than his son, even. I listened as Rydan’s voice washed over me, capturing the cadence of the story expertly. I smiled and laughed at all the right parts - even more than expected with the humor and personality he managed to inject. A few chapters in, I was already more relaxed than I had been through the rest of the week. I was enjoying myself as much as I allowed myself to while in King’s Landing. Right as we reached the point where the hero was going to agree to fight our villain, I stopped him to call for a light lunch for us. We spent time eating, chatting in half-sentences about mindless topics, and then returned to the story. I was far too exhausted to give energy to anything real today. He knew that. He was kind enough to oblige. Rydan always was.
Yet, at the peak of the story, right as the hero and villain were ready to clash, there was an insistent, impatient knock on my door. I turned my head into the fabric of the couch and let out a short, cathartic scream before sitting up. I gestured to Rydan with my head. He placed the book down and snorted at my dramatics even as he rose to his feet and walked to the door. He opened it slowly and I watched as the ease on his face died. His eyes became pinched, his lips turned downward, and he looked generally annoyed if you knew what such a thing looked like on him. Regrettably, I did, which meant I knew just who it was.
“Prince Aemond,” he greeted, tone just shy of icy.
My eyes widened and I sat up more, my feet touching the ground. My brow furrowed as he walked into my chambers. He did not greet or even acknowledge Rydan. He had an annoyed look and a determined stride. That was never a good combination with my dear husband. I did not bother to keep the cringe from crossing over my face as I looked at him.
“Dear husband,” I greeted, dull, emotionless. “What a surprise it is to see you. I had no idea you returned. What can I do for you?”
His expression fared no better, nor did his own voice. “I just got back,” he said shortly. “Come. My mother is summoning us both I’ve been told.”
I glanced over to Rydan, eyes dark in irritation. “Of course,” I said, rising to my feet. “I would not dream of keeping the Queen waiting.” I was proud of myself for keeping my icy rage out of my voice, and my sarcasm too. I gestured him to the door with my hand. “After you, husband.”
Aemond openly glared at me, forcefully taking my hand and wrapping it around his arm. “What kind of husband would I be to not escort you,” he said, voice acidic in a way that he clearly could not stop.
“Oh just yourself, you bumbling idiot,” Rydan muttered quietly in a coarse version of the trade tongue he’d taken the time to painstakingly teach me solely for the chance to insult my husband. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. “Lead the way, my Princess.” Didn’t even acknowledge Aemond. “I go where you lead me as your faithful servant, my Lady.”
I smiled at him, acting as though he had said nothing of consequence, even as he laid it on thick. I looked over to Aemond then who was busy glaring at Rydan, suspicious of what he said. I tugged at his arm once, raising an eyebrow. Aemond glanced back at me and rolled his eyes openly before harshly tugging me down the hall forcing me to lengthen my stride to keep up with him. Both he and I ignored the greetings around us as he forced me to near-sprint down the corridors back to his mother’s chambers. I nodded to Rydan as a silent instruction to remain outside of the door next to Ser Cole who remained faithfully at his post as he always did.
After we entered and the door closed, I released Aemond’s arm as though it burned my skin and took three steps away from him. Aemond did the same. I didn’t spare him a look. Instead, I looked to the Queen, who sat, a troubled look on her face as she gazed into the fire. There was a Septon at her side, and Larys Strong, the Master of Whispers, on her other side. My eyes widened, breath catching in my throat. Upon seeing us, the Septon and Lord both stood, bowed to us, and then left. Aemond looked puzzled, I tried my best to not appear as though I felt any particular way seeing the religious man and the Master of Whispers in the Queen’s quarters on a seemingly random day.
“Mother, you wished to see us both. And I’ve brought…her. So here we are” Aemond asked with open animosity in the way he spat her. He dropped into the chair beside his mother in waiting. Cautiously, I perched on the couch across from them, folding my hands in my lap. “What do you need to discuss?”
“Tell me, son,” Alicent said, turning her eyes to her son, “do you enjoy making a fool of your family? Your house? Your name?” I was shocked at the venom in her voice, but Aemond looked more surprised in truth. “Tell me, where do you go when you leave your wife here alone for weeks on end as you have since you married?”
Aemond stiffened at her words, back straightening. He sat up straighter, looking still and unnatural as a shadow. “I have explained to you, mother, I must take Vhagar for regular rides. She does not enjoy being still for so long,” he said.
“That dragon is well over one hundred and fifty years old, son. I am not a fool. It is not some fledgling that needs to stretch its legs,” Alicent snapped. “Do not treat me as a fool, Aemond I warn you. So tell me the truth of these rumors I have been hearing. Do you have a…a lover in the Riverlands? Did you father a bastard with her?” Her fury was palpable. Evidently, the Master of Whispers had told her something she did not wish to hear. “Do you defile your wife’s reputation and honor? That of your mother? That of your family?”
Immediately, the Queen was no longer the only one angry. Aemond followed, and his anger was an incandescent rage that made the room stifling. “I told you that I did not wish for this, mother,” he said, as if things were that simple. As if it absolved him of his sins. “I told you that my heart belonged to another and I had no plans to be a part of this marriage. You and father are the ones who did not listen to me when I told you such. This is not my fault.”
“Not your fault?” the Queen asked, voice quiet with an anger that she was trying to conceal and was faring very poorly at doing. “Tell me, son, how your vile actions are not your own fault? You…you sleep with another woman who is not your wife. You have a child with a woman who is not your wife. These choices are yours entirely! So tell me how it is not your fault! Tell me how you’d explain it as appropriate to Y/N’s brother if he were to ask. Because oh, my son, he is. Cregan Stark is ready to march down from the north to take your head and I have half a mind to let him!”
Aemond shot a furious glare at me. As though I had anything to do with this - which generally I did, but specifically I did not. “Mother,” he said, voice harsh. She stopped him though, unwilling to let him speak yet.
“You have shamed us. And moreover, you did not have the decency to try and conceal such things. Instead, you decided that ruining the reputation of your poor wife was the better of choices.” Alicent shook her head, furious, and began ripping at the skin around her nails again, blood coming easily with the tearing. “I am disgusted with your actions. With your lies. You thought nothing for the consequences of your actions, that much is very clear. I thought you better than that.” She glared at her son. “The kindest thing that you did was leaving poor Y/N’s virtue intact so she may yet still find a husband who will treat her well.”
At those words, I sat up straight, looking solely at Alicent. I did not care to see Aemond’s reaction to her declaration. I only needed to know for certain what it was that her words meant. “You…you mean?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
The Queen nodded once, lips turned down in a frown, tears in her beautiful, sad, exhausted eyes. “The Septon is going to figure out what he can do to make this happen as quietly and quickly as possible. For both of your sakes,” she said, nodding. She clenched her jaw. “The Hand will be writing a letter to your brother explaining such things so he will have no need to…to march on King’s Landing.” She sucked in a deep breath. “And the letter will beg forgiveness, and assure him that we had no clue what was happening.” My lips turned up in a bitter half-smirk that almost immediately disappeared. “It will ask what we may do to maintain our alliance as it should have been initially.”
“I see,” I said. Her words ripped a pressure off of my shoulders that I was aware of, but not cognizant of the extent of. I felt suddenly weightless. I could have laughed, giddy, if I weren’t entirely aware of how inappropriate it would be to do so. I let out a half laugh and leaned back into the cushion of my seat on the couch. “In all honesty, my Queen, I know exactly what Cregan will say to you. And I will tell you so. Bring Daeron home as I said, and warn him very carefully about how he must act and…conduct himself in his new role. And ensure that he listens to you.” I look away. “Starks are loyal. They’re honorable. But they are not fools.”
“What are you talking about?” Aemond snapped, his voice positively venomous. “What are the Septons working on?”
“Annulling the farce of the marriage that I foolishly allowed Y/N to stay in this long. Working to ensure that your stupidity does not ruin the peace and partnership that we are trying to forge with the Starks,” his mother replied.
Aemond scoffed. “You will take my wife?” he asked, mocking. “And what will the people say about that?”
“She will no longer be your wife, Aemond,” she said sharply. Alicent looked at her son with no attempt to conceal her anger. “The people will say more about you than they will about her. The Starks will be seen as benevolent and generous for not taking action to counter your transgressions against such a noble house. And the Starks will be noble and generous for considering marrying Y/N to Dareon and maintaining the alliance that we are trying to build. We, Aemond, will be the ones who are talked poorly about. We will be the ones that are negatively whispered of. We might only pray that Daeron is able to counter it by being gallant and noble.”
“You would marry Y/N to my brother? You think that Daeron marrying my wife will help in those rumors?” Aemond spat, clenching his fist in anger.
“Daeron is known to be a man of his word, kind, and daring. A well-suitable match for a Stark. Chivalrous and duty-bound. A man dedicated to family and to his responsibilities. There will be no doubt that he shall be a good match for her,” Alicent stated, slipping quickly into her persona of the Queen, firm and unyielding, even to her own children. “And I will hear no argument, least of all from you.” She glared at her son. “And do not think this changes anything. You will still not be allowed to marry your…your whore.”
I let out a shallow gasp at her words and the way Aemond immediately rose to his feet, fists clenched. His chest was heaving with his anger. This was the most emotion I had ever seen out of him. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that it was rage. He hardly seemed capable of experiencing positive emotion.
“Do not speak ill of Alys, mother. I love her and she is the mother of my son. I will allow none to speak ill of her,” he said dangerously. He turned then to me, a frantic look in his eye. “And what do you say to this, wife?” I turned my head, observing him. It was to the point that he could lay his hand on me right now and I wouldn’t care. So, risking it, I Iet myself bark out a laugh. This only served to make him look angrier. “You dare laugh?”
“I think, Aemond, that this is the smartest decision that the Queen and the Hand could’ve hoped to make on behalf of the King,” I said simply. “Perhaps a bit later than they should have, but, they can be credited for eventually coming around to see sense.” I raised an eyebrow. “I am confused by your anger, Aemond. You have made it clear since the moment that we met that you’d rather die than be married to me, much less touch me. I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me and be rid of the title of husband. Happy of me being rid of my title as your wife.” I let out a hum, lips pouting slightly. “I suppose you must be disappointed that it is your reputation that will suffer for this and not mine. A pity. Truly.”
“Y/N,” the Queen said shortly. A warning to not push him when he was this angry. A warning that I did not need. A warning that I had never heeded before and certainly would not need now.
“Bold words from a woman who could not please her husband,” Aemond said, taunting and unkind.
I openly laughed at his words, while Alicent gaped and tried to scold him. “Please,” I snorted, “when I am married to your brother, by all accounts feel free to ask him if I can please my husband. Until then, don’t be afraid to mind your own words or I may just have my brother come to take your head anyways.” I offered him a saccharine smile. “Even as a Prince you are no heir to the throne. And you have still offered my house - a house that you require the allegiance of - a great offense in your treatment of me. I dutifully endured it as long as I could. You are in the wrong by all accounts.”
He stepped forward, a menacing, cold smile on his face. Still, I did not break. I was far too cold myself to care for the depths or chill of his cruelty. I, in fact, rose to my own feet and smiled up at him, bright and cheery. His height advantage was no longer intimidating to me. He was no longer intimidating to me. It seemed that at that moment, he was finally recognizing the fact that I held no fear of him, no concern for him at all, really. And as he noticed, I saw a flicker of confusion and concern in his eye. I couldn’t help but smile brighter. I stepped to the side of him, one closer to the door.
“I assure you that I will write my own letter to my brother, Your Grace. All will be well,” I vowed. She looked visibly relieved at that assurance. I felt a sick sense of satisfaction at that power. “I thank you for your help in this. Thank you for listening.”
“What?” Aemond asked, reaching out and grabbing my arm, tightly. “What do you mean thank you for listening? Are you responsible for this, wife?”
My own bright smile grew colder as I wrenched my arm from his hand. “Do not put your hands on me,” I warned. “None will take to it kindly. And I am going to tell Ser Carron that if you do lay your hands on me that he may do whatever it may take to get your hands off of me.” Alicent’s breath caught in her throat. I did not care.
“You threaten a prince,” he said, jaw clenched. “Your husband.”
“I threaten a wastrel,” I corrected with a mocking smile. “And you should take that word out of your vocabulary. You shan’t be my husband for much longer, thanks to the mercy of the gods old and new, and the wisdom of our dear Queen.” I made to walk towards the door. Then, I turned back. “And yes I am responsible for this, Aemond. I had no desire to deal with you any longer than I already had. You should be glad to have so much more time freed up for your princely duties and your rides upon Vhagar! Take heart!” I offered another malicious smile. “And it is as your mother said. You left my virtue intact, the kindest thing you could have done. I do so appreciate it. And I am sure that your brother shall as well when the time comes. No one likes a person with…loose morals, do they?” I walked to the door then, leaving the pair in stunned silence. I turned back a final time. “Thank you, Your Grace. Truly. I will deliver a missive to you today. For a raven to send to my brother. This I promise you.”
“And I…I will send word for Daeron to return from Oldtown,” she said, slumping back in her seat, looking exhausted and a little bit defeated. Again, I got a sick little sense of delight from it - from the power. She looked directly at me then. “And, Y/N, thank you…for your generosity and understanding in sorting this. Yours and that of House Stark.”
“Of course, my Queen,” I said, bowing my head dutifully before pulling the door open and leaving. The shouting behind the door started almost immediately. Louder than the Queen even shouted at Aegon. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. Ser Cole’s face was impassive. Rydan looked curious. I smiled shortly at him, innocent and fleeting, unseen by another, and pat his arm. “Come now, Ser Carron. I have a letter I must write presently. We should make haste. It will need to go out today.”
The words were innocent enough. But Rydan clearly knew what they meant. He chuckled as he stepped of the wall, gesturing forward with a hand. “Lead the way, my Lady,” he said with a wolf-like grin.
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Table of contents
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Smau!
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No Time To Lose
Summary: Bucky is going to confront you for why you have been avoiding him but when he comes home he finds out you have been kidnapped
Warning: Mentions of kidnapping and torture
Part 1 Part 3
Bucky couldn't bear the growing distance between you any longer. He knew he had to talk to you and stop the tension that had been building. The constant absence of your touch, your laughter, and your presence had made him realize just how much he needed you.
One evening, as he mustered up the courage to have the conversation, he decided to surprise you at home. He wanted to show you that whatever he did wrong he deeply regrets it and stop whatever had caused this sudden change in your behavior.
However, when Bucky entered the apartment, he found it eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt heavy, and his heart clenched with a sense of foreboding. He called out your name, but there was no response.
Panic surged through his veins as he quickly searched every room, hoping to find you. It was then that he noticed something off—a broken vase on the floor, shattered glass scattered across the room.
Bucky's hands trembled as he desperately dialed your number, hoping against hope that you would answer. But each ring went unanswered, intensifying his anxiety. Fear gnawed at his heart as he realized something was terribly wrong. Where were you? Why weren't you picking up?
Unable to waste any more time, Bucky quickly dialed Sam's number, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam, it's Y/N. She's in trouble. I can't reach her, and I don't know where she is. I need your help."
Sam's voice conveyed his concern as he responded, "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm on my way. We'll find her together. Just hold on."
Bucky's mind replayed every moment, every conversation, searching for any signs he might have missed. Anything that could show what had happen to you. Bucky's mind raced with worry as they searched for any sign of your whereabouts. Doubt gnawed at his thoughts, questioning every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Did I miss any signs that something was wrong? Should I have noticed your distress sooner?
But as the minutes ticked by, Bucky's conviction grew stronger. Deep down, he knew you would never willingly leave him without a word. Your love had been genuine, your connection real. It didn't make sense that you would simply disappear without a trace. His gut told him that something was terribly wrong.
That is when he saw Sam walk in with a computer in his hand. "Well I asked the landlord for the security cameras and he was happy to give it to Captain America." Sam says laughing trying to lighten the mood as he sits down, but no reaction from Bucky. "Well what did you find?" Bucky says eagerly. "I see that Y/N got captured while heading in, but its a little blurry to see the number plate." Sam says while showing Bucky "But I do know someone who can get it, wait here." Sam walks out to make a phone call.
The guilt intensified, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume him. He blamed himself for not being there, for not protecting you when you needed him the most. His mind raced with a barrage of "what ifs" and self-recrimination.
Sam comes back awhile later to inform Bucky he found where Y/N is held captive and they rush off to find you.
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Y/N's heart raced as she found herself trapped, held captive by Brock. She knew Bucky would come for her, and she held onto that hope tightly. But the more Brock tortured he, she felt as if all that hope was slipping away.
"Poor, poor Y/N I really thought your boyfriend would save you" Brocks says putting a knife near your neck. "I can't believe he would let someone as precious as you thrown away"
"I don't give a fuck what you believe" you say spitting at brock
Brock punches you and you feel blood come out of your moth. "You need to learn to not be a bitch, before we can play". You can see the look Brock gave you and it didn't make you feel good. He starts to walk away and comes back with collar and puts it on you. You try moving your neck but you feel a sudden pain of electrical shocks.
He lifts your chin up "You better hope your boyfriend comes in time, because a few more shocks and your dead" he says with a smile while he walks outs.
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A few hours later you see the door open in but the tears in your eyes make it hard for you to make out the figure. There was so many of Brock's henchman here you couldn't tell which one was Brock or not.
That is when she caught a glimpse of Bucky hiding behind some crates. Bucky gave you a soft smile while he disapeared into the dark.
However, luck seemed to elude him as a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence. The sudden sound alerted Brock's henchmen, who immediately converged on Bucky, trapping him within their grasp. Bucky's heart raced as he found himself outnumbered, but he refused to back down.
As the first henchman lunged at him, Bucky swiftly dodged the attack. He retaliated with a powerful punch, sending his assailant crashing into a nearby wall. But there was no time to savor the victory as the others closed in, their fists flying.
Amidst the chaos, Bucky caught a glimpse of Sam swooping down from above. The familiar wings of his Falcon suit glinted in the darkness.
You saw while Bucky was fighting the henchman, Sam was taking you out of the facility and to the hospital. "You okay there, were almost to the hospital, then I'll go back for buck" Sam says holding you tightly as he brings you to the hospital. But you eyes start to close slowly, you didn't want to hold on for life anymore, you didn't want to be Bucky's burden, you just wanted some peace.
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Ghost Rider - Rooster - Masterlist
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x pilot female reader
Summary:
You lived up to your callsign, Ghost. You hid and then scared the crap out of people in the sky. As an incredibly decorated officer for your age, you were called back to Top Gun for a dangerous mission. Despite your best intentions, the people on this mission - specifically one - would do their best to get you out of hiding, getting you out of your comfort zone of the shadows and into a lively world.
Chapters:
One - 28 August 2022
Two - 31 August 2022
Three - 4 September 2022
Four - 6 September 2022
Five - 7 September 2022
Six - 19 September 2022
Seven - 3 November 2022
Eight - 11 December 2022
Nine - 3 March 2023
Epilogue
I freaking love this ❤️😭😭😭
Reggie x Reader: Fingers and thumbs, baby. (Epilogue)
A/N: SIKE BITCHEEEES. Y’ALL REALLY THINK I’D LEAVE IT LIKE THAT!? HELL NAH YOUR MOTHER HAS RETURNED TO PROVIDE LOVE YA XXX
Plot: When Reggie and (Y/N) have been bestfriends their whole lives but the universe had other plans.
Samantha stole another glance at the tall, gorgeous boy that seemed so keen on listening to everything that was coming out of their boring professor’s mouth. He was popular and friendly but still somehow remained a mystery, always kept to himself. Everybody was practically in love with him because aside from his well-built physique, friendly nature, and willingness to help those who need it he had this certain aura of vagueness around him which seemed to drag everyone in, makes them want to unlock more. As if there is so much more to be discovered aside from the glimpses of personalities he shows the world but nobody ever had the chance to be that close. Everybody knew him but at the same time nobody actually did.
When their professor finally ended his discussion Samantha stood up, ready to take the first step to become the first person to have the honor of actually knowing Reggie Mantle.
Or so she thought.
“H-Hey, Reggie?”
He looked at her before gracing her with a smile, making her heart beat twice as fast. “Hey, Samantha,” He adjusted his gym bag on his shoulders, probably preparing himself for his daily training. “Need anything?”
“Y-Yeah, actually, I was wondering,” she closed her eyes for a second to gather some courage. “Would you – would you like to get some coffee with me? Some time? If you’re not too busy.”
She swallowed as she waited for his response, afraid to look at his face for any sign of rejection. Then she heard a sigh and knew it was game over. She heard the stories, the rumors, how no one stood a chance because:
“Sorry, Sam,” Reggie really sounded sympathetic and she hated it. “I – I have someone –“
“I know.” Samantha smiled, sadly, successfully cutting him off. She looked up at him despite the pain. “What a lucky girl.” She whispered more to herself than anything but Reggie seemed to hear it.
Reggie smirked before shaking his head. “You got it all mixed up, Sam.” Reggie said. “I’m the one who got lucky.”
He patted her head before walking away.
“W-What’s her name?” Samantha asked. Curious as to who got this beautiful boy’s fancy and got him hooked that he couldn’t even look at another girl ever again. Reggie’s mind immediately went to the memory of your smile, the way you’re hair danced messily in the wind when you were in the passenger seat of his car, the echo of your laugh in his room as you wore his shirt while running your hand across his hair, your beautiful 5 o’clock shadow as you stared outside the windows of Pop’s with the neon lights making you look ethereal and seraphic.
Samantha noticed that Reggie’s mind seemed to disappear to a happy place because he beamed, almost shining with happiness. Another glimpse, she thought, Reggie was really full of surprises and secrets.
“If I tell you, I might have to kill you.”
All the boys stared as Cheryl and (Y/N) walked together, with their arms crossed, talking quietly among themselves. How the meanest and nicest girls of the entire building managed to become bestfriends was beyond them but they would be lying if they say they weren’t a sight to behold. Especially (Y/N), known to be the kindest soul to ever grace their halls, who was always willing to extend a helping hand and always treat everybody with respect. A lot of boys tried to win her heart but none was very successful, in fact not qa single one even came close, because aside from the Red Widow by her side, a nickname she earned because of her careful yet poisonous words and her dedication to guard the little angel of New York University everybody gets the same response from her every time: a kind rejection. The kind of rejection that makes them feel bad for even trying and putting her through the dilemma of even rejecting them.
One poor soul gripped the bouquet of roses in his hands before daring to walk towards their table and try his luck, eyes on the back of (Y/N)’s head. He gave himself a mental pep talk trying not to chicken out but all of those words of inspiration and prayers were obliterated when he caught Cheryl’s eyes.
Cheryl seemed bored and emotionless, head resting on her palm, as she stared at another clueless boy trying to vouch for her bestfriend’s affection. She gave him the smallest glare, which usually meant ‘scram’ or ‘fuck off’, and smirked as she saw him make a 90 degree turn before walking out straight out the library.
“Cherry, stop scaring people.” (Y/N), who apparently wasn’t really focusing on her advanced reading, chuckled. “You’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep that up.”
Cheryl scoffed and flipped her long, almost fiery in this lighting, red hair. “Nobody deserves me, darling, and we both know it.”
“No we don’t,” You stared at her. “You should give them a chance.”
“That’s rich coming from you, sweetie.” Cheryl shot back making you blush. “Why don’t you give those unfortunate souls who are just begging for a glance from the angel of their dreams, a chance?”
You blushed even more. “You—I – You know I’m not into that, Cherry.”
“Uh-huh, yeah, who you tryna fool?” Cheryl smirked, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back on her chair. “And please, he was carrying roses, how cliché right? The right man would know you’re more of a sunflower girl.” She smirked. “Too bad the right man is in a far far away kingdom.”
You managed to give her a glare despite the heat on your face but she just laughed at your effort in looking mad. You just rolled your eyes, heart beating a little too fast at the memory of him.
“I’m just, such a good friend.” Cheryl dramatically fanned her face, as if she was about to cry, speaking a little too loudly in the library. “That bastard better be fucking grateful and buy me a Victorian-inspired mansion for all my effort in making sure his lil’ lovebird doesn’t get snatched by worthless peasants.”
“Cherry stop,” you whined trying to remove the attention away from the two of you, knowing nobody would have the guts to try and make her quiet but you.
“I’m gonna guilt-trip him his whole life, you just wait.”
“We don’t even know if he is still single.”
“Oh, we know.”
“How? I mean have you seen him? Boy’s like that doesn’t stay single for very long time in college.”
“Because I know him, and that boy is about as gone for you as you are for him,” Cheryl stated confidently. “And if you weren’t sure he is single, why are you still rejecting everybody left and right? Unless …”
“You are crazy.” You shook your head, not wanting to feed yourself any more false hopes. You don’t even know where in God’s green Earth he was staying at right now. You haven’t talked for almost four years now. You could but you decided not to because getting a little taste of that heaven will make you want him and miss him more and you don’t want to be running back to him when you are this close to your goal. That reunion will have to wait, and it seems like he was thinking the same thing, too.
Is he treating himself well?
Is he surrounded by good people?
Is he happy?
Does anything remind him of you? Even for just a second?
“(Y/N),” Cheryl was staring at something in her phone, eyes wide in shock. Whatever it was must be something big to actually surprise Cheryl. Cheryl shoved her phone at you as you read the article about a certain raven-haired boy that just won the Nationals in Indiana. “Point six hundred million for Cheryl. God, I hate being right all the time”
You ignored her as you read how Reggie Mantle, the captain, basically carried the whole game towards their victory with his agility, strategy, and strength. You reread the last paragraph of the article:
Mantle is not only a spectacular athlete but he is also an outstanding student with his top marks which will result to the possibility of him graduating as the top of his class. How he managed to balance his responsibilities, Reggie Mantle gave us an answer that left more questions than answers:
“You could say I have a pretty solid foundation and inspiration.” He said with a grin. “Though she is probably studying hard in New York too.”
Who is this mysterious lady that snatched Reggie Mantle’s heart? The world may never know.
“Hey man,” Reggie returned back to Earth when he heard his roommate, soon to be ex-roommate, in their toga with a big grin on his face. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
Reggie took his hands and gave him a half-hug and a pat on the back. “I’ll see you.”
Jake plopped down on his bed, one last time probably. “Can’t believe you’re going pro, man. That’s big.”
“I know,” Reggie chuckled, picking up a football from the ground. “Even I still can’t believe it.”
“Well, as for me it’s the boring old office work.”
Reggie gave him a look before throwing at him the football which he caught with a lot of effort. “Shut up, Jake, you got a girlfriend who’s smart. She got you.”
Jake smirked. “Yeah she’s still pretty bummed about not getting that journalism job. She really wanted it.”
“I can’t believe someone actually beat Janine. Must be some miracle.” Jake’s girlfriend, Janine, was like a machine when it comes to her studies. So it came as a shock to everyone when she came barging in their room crying about how she did not get accepted to her dream job.
“Yeah, she told me it was taken by some monster that graduated from New York,” Jake chuckled. “Kept whining how the world is unfair cause the said monster was drop dead gorgeous, smart, and is now holding her dream job by the neck on her first try.”
“Wai- wait, back up,” Reggie stood up. “Did … did Janine say what the name of this said New York monster was?”
Jake seemed to think for a second and Reggie was literally on his tiptoes from the suspense. “I forgot man, I guess it was (Y/N) or something? I forgot the last na—“
Jake was cut off by Reggie’s jaw dropping in shock before genuinely laughing. Throughout their four years of being friends Jake has never seen Reggie this happy, even during his championship game. Reggie looked at Jake who was looking at him as if he grew a second head.
“Holy shit! I’m so sorry, man.” Reggie laughed once more, patting his shoulders sympathetically. “In behalf of her, let me apologize.”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked, genuinely confused.
“The New York monster that took the job from your girl?”
“Yeah …”
“That’s my girl.”
You just finished face timing Cheryl that was now living in London for some business transaction and she couldn’t stop bitching about the rain ruining her hair, which, in turn, just gave you something to laugh about.
“Good morning, stranger,” your favorite barista greeted you as you leaned in the counter.
“Hello, outsider,” You greeted her back. “Can I get my regular and a muffin?”
“Oooh muffin, you’re being a rebel today, huh?” she snickered as she handed you your favorite drink and a fresh muffin.
“I like to remain unpredictable.” You said as you handed her the exact amount and placed a twenty on the tip box.
“See you tomorrow, outsider.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
You sighed as the hot drink touch your tongue, fucking heaven. As you were about to go in your car you felt a small tug on your coat. You turned around and saw a cute little kid that had gorgeous curly locks hiding a sunflower behind his back.
“Hey, there little bud.” You leaned down to minimize the distance between you and the kid. “Are you lost?” You looked around you. “Where’s your mum—“
You were cut off when he suddenly shoved you the sunflower in his handsand ran before disappearing right around the corner.
“What the …” You cracked a smile despite your confusion and saw a small card tied around the sunflower with a note that read:
There’s more from where that came from.
“What?”
Just as you were about to look for the little boy a tall figure suddenly appeared from your peripheral view. And just like in your wildest dreams, there he was: standing in front of you, beautiful as ever, holding a bouquet of sunflowers and wearing that smirk that made your stomach flip in the most beautiful way possible ever since you were kids.
“Reggie …”
Before you could utter another word he sped up his last two steps and cradled your face with his free hand for a kiss. A kiss, a kiss that you have imagined over and over again, a kiss that was foreign yet so goddamn familiar from the amount of times you have dreamt and daydreamed about it. A kiss from Reggie Mantle was all it took for your heart to beat the same irregular beats that was reserved only for him.
I took you a moment to recover from the shock but when you did you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him in deeper. You waited too long for this kiss and you never wanted it to end and he probably had the same thought in mind. But sadly, like everything amazing, it had to, or else you were gonna die from lack of oxygen.
Reggie leaned in your forehead and laughed just as you started to giggle. “I guess you missed me?” you whispered.
“You have no idea, pup.” You started tearing up, not believing that after all these years he was finally here in your arms, looking at you with the same dark eyes and intense gaze that makes you want to melt.
“I’m – “
“I love you.” Reggie made her forget her train of thoughts with those words. “If the kiss didn’t make it clear enough. I, Reggie Mantle, is in love with you and swears to be in love with you in this lifetime and the next.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. Pulling him in for another kiss. “Promise?” You offered him your pinky.
He laughed, crossing both of pinkies and pushed both of your fists and thumbs together.
“Promise.” He gave you another peck. “And, I believe you owe me a date.”
“Oh, do I now?” you teased, giggling when he tried to kiss your neck. “Where would you like to go?”
“I waited for years for this date, pup,” he said letting go of your face as he opted to wrap his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist. He gave you the bouquet which you held with your free hand. “I’ll go wherever the fuck you want.”
Breaking News! After dating for three years and being engaged in one, star football player, Reggie Mantle and his fiancé’ the award winning journalist and published author, (Y/F/N), has officially tied the knot in secret in their hometown, Riverdale, with only a chosen few people present, one note-worthy guest was Mrs. Mantle’s best friend, Cheryl Blossom, the CEO of Blossom Inc. and world-renowned author of two award-winning novels in her spare time. It was said to be a big event despite the small town in Riverdale as stolen shots were taken of the grand wedding for the official photographs of the wedding was announced to be kept in private and not to be publicized in the request of the couple.
This power-couple had been best friends their whole lives and decided to tie the knot right after Reggie Mantle surprised his, now, wife with her dream house in California where they were rumored to finally settle. The couple is about to head into their 2-month honeymoon that will be spent in different cities around the world that they have planned to visit ever since they were kids.
After you’re done crying and emptying your box of tissue we dare you to find us a more perfect couple, we’ll wait.
(Y/N) was breathing in the fresh air from the morning breeze. She stared at the view from her balcony: the trees, the lake, and the city far, far away. Reggie really thought everything through when he built this house just for her. He built her a home where she is safe, contented, and happy and she could never thank him enough.
She jumped a bit when she felt a fluffy blanket, which turned out to be her robe, being wrapped around her by none other than her husband. Even after a year and a half of being married she still feels giddy thinking about Reggie being her husband. Finally.
“You okay?” Reggie whispered, afraid of breaking this serene moment as he hugged you from behind and gave you a peck on the side of your head.
You decided to face your husband and give him a proper good morning kiss, wrapping your arms on his waist as he wrapped his arms around you. “I feel perfect.” You nuzzled your face on his warm neck relishing on the comfort only he can give you. You looked up at him and saw him looking out at the view before turning his eyes on you making you wonder what you did in your past life to have a man like him to keep forever.
“We’re in love, aren’t we?”
He chuckled at your question before leaning hooking a stray hair in your ear. “I can’t speak for you but you got me pretty hooked, pup.” You looked up at him through your lashes to give him a glare as if to say ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ and Reggie grinned, the same boyish grin from when you were in Riverdale, giving you another kiss
“You don’t have to worry about that for a very, very long time, pup.” Reggie sighed, pulling you closer to him, as if that was possible.”Your heart won’t break around here. I’ll make sure of that.”
You squealed when he leaned down and hooked his arms at the back of your thighs and sat down, taking you in his lap. You watched as the sun rose quietly, sharing the morning coffee you made to help you get ready for the day, small kisses and giggles shared every now and then and in that exact moment you realized you could stay there forever and already find the life that was your definition of perfect
But then on cue you heard the familiar wailing of your two other babies on their bedroom making you giggle and Reggie groan, leaning on your shoulders. “Oh stop it, you were the one who was begging me for a baby.”
“I asked for one baby, pup. Just one, I’m blaming your fertile ass for this.” Reggie complained but was still ahead of you towards his babies room. He loved being a father and everybody knows it. When you were pregnant anxious would be an understatement when defining Reggie as he watched your every move and made sure you were eating only the best to make sure his babies would grow to become ‘as strong as me and as beautiful as their mother’. Heck, nobody could touch you without receiving a glare from Reggie which in turn would result to you smacking him in the head as he pouted but still continued to follow you around like a lost guard dog.
“Or we could blame you fucking me 12 times a day, every day? How about that?” You shot back.
“Hush, (Y/N/N), “ Reggie said as he cradled Cherry on his right arm and picked up the older twin, Jason, on the other. “My babies can hear you.”
“Oh they’re your babies now—“
“TOUCHDOWN BITCHES!” You heard the all too familiar slamming of the door open and Cheryl’s voice from below. “WHERE ARE MY DEAR DARLINGS?!”
“I can’t believe I actually gave that woman a spare key.” Reggie sighed, making you giggle. “Since when did she arrive from London?”
“Come on now,” you said as you took Cherry from Reggie making him pout. God, his daughter had him whipped. “Let’s go down before Cheryl wrecks havoc in here too.”
“I gotta share everything with her,” Reggie complained to a now sleeping Jason, as he went downstairs and saw Cheryl with a dollhouse and a toy car that looked too expensive and too realistic to be owned by a couple of 7 month old babies .”One day I’ll just snap and assassinate her, I swear to God.”
“I heard that, you ass!”
“You needed to hear it, satan!”
You couldn’t help but watch as Reggie and Cheryl bickered back and forth while Jason was silently sleeping in his crib and Cherry was babbling nonsense while sitting comfortably in your lap.
“Listen here Poison Ivy wanna-be, you’re spoiling my kids and they don’t even have the mental capacity to be spoiled yet.” Reggie complained.
“I am their godmother I can do what I want because I am richer than their father.”
“Excuse me,” Reggie seemed genuinely offended and you couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Who’s richer than who’ has been a small game in between Reggie and Cheryl, heck, even Archie, who is now an international song artist, and Moose who is an owner of a couple of successful gyms would join every now and then.
I guess nothing really ever truly changed. Reggie and Cheryl just can’t admit they love each other with a gun aimed at their heads, you were still hopelessly in-love with your husband, and he still looks at you as if you were the reason the sun continues to shine every morning. Only now you had two little angels to call your own and more money than you can spend.
Not bad for a shy girl from Riverdale who was secretly in love with her bestfriend.
You looked at your family, once more. Leaning back, placing Cherry on your chest, you sighed in contentment.
Not bad at all.
A/N: I’m gonna miss writing this so fucking much. Fuck.
Taglist
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Burning Coles
(Part Eleven)
Aemond x Targaryen/Cole!Reader
Obsessive!Jace x Targaryen/Cole!Reader
@crystalrose36 @bregarc @roselibrary @tired-ninfa @cecespizza01 @bellameshipper @thatweirdchickatthecorner @greennowlfactif @hargrovehoe @aemondsdelight @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @cherry-888 @azaleapotterblack @thenovelcarnival @velvet-spider @burningshewolf @rainerax @biancathecool @thegoodthebadandtheempty @hangesprofessionalashholder @xeniarocks @lady—butterfly @scarletraine @b1gb3anz @duckworthbean @xceafh @merovingianprincess @virginslut08 @multifndom @astarborntowrite @whodis-26 @mxrgodsstuff @lovelynerdytraveler @bruhhchillll @undecidedsimp @hiatuswhore @mochimommy2002 @multitargaryen @wanderingcl0ud @a-dorkier-book-keeper @prettykinkysoul @rockerchick05 @natthedwobbit @alexandra-001 @ilovestrngrthngs @savinasavers @watermel0nsugarhigh @dee-reads-books @halleisheree @50svibes @whothehelliskayleigh @kemillfreitas @xinyourdreamsx @kaycyl @gothicgay14 @borikenlove @apocoloops
TW: Inc*st, ANGST, pining, language, toxic family stuff, Reader is cracking that Virgo energy, a bit slow in this one…
“I had read Aemond the Kinslayer to be obsessed with her. A vicious madman made only more bloodthirsty from his want of her”, said the Lionness.
“Our texts do not disagree”, the Viper smiled “Though we do not frown upon it as you do”.
The day after losing his eye, and you, Aemond woke up to a new world. A new life.
Young Prince Aemond would need to relearn many things. Such as going down stairs, pouring his own drinks, or judging the distance of a person or object. The maesters warned his mother that some skills may never come back to him.
And he may never learn to ride Vhagar.
“Without your other eye, Prince, you may have too great a difficulty to control it”, the Maester had said.
Aemond had sat in his bed. Completely silent. Completely still.
Then he just started screaming. Crying despite the way it burned his left eye to do so. His hands grabbed at whatever was available to throw, and launched it at all the maesters in his room. It took him an hour to stop lashing out at them. To stop screaming at them that they were wrong. He was meant to be Vhagar’s rider. He meant to be your defender.
How could he do that with one eye?
Aemond had calmed enough for visitors. Although he was now refusing to look at or respond to anyone. Despondent.
It broke the Queen Mother’s heart. She had tried everything to bring him out of it. To no avail. King Viserys only repeated his disappointment in him. And Lord Hightower crowed how proud he was, for taking such a great risk. But it all felt so hollow. Alicent turned to one of the few men her son seemed to respect, Ser Criston Cole.
“My Prince?”
He refused to look at him fully, but the Prince did lift his head.
“Ser Cole”
The kingsguard fought a small smile at the boy’s tone. He sounded older than his years. A boy with gauze and stitches on his face that sat in a bed that still bore the childish patterns of dragons and knights. The scar on his face, however, clashed violently with his childlike bed.
“I came to check on your healing. Are you recovering without pain, Prince?”, said Ser Cole.
Aemond snorted “If you listen to Maester Mugbrute, I am not expected to recover at all. No riding, no fighting, just a lump with a title”.
An intense sort of wrath from a young man. Ser Criston Cole looked around the room, it was still littered with thrown objects. Pillows, medicine bottles, rolls of gauze, and a broken teapot. They rolled lightly as the ship rocked in the ocean. King’s Landing was still a day or so out. The maesters should be grateful his aim was impacted.
“My Prince, losing an eye does not mean you have lost your life. I have known many capable fighters that were without an eye”, Ser Cole took a chance and came closer to the boy.
Aemond straightened his posture and turned, his puffy scar healing but cracking painfully “The maesters… they said..”.
“It will not be easy, but if it is your want, I can still train you. We will need to start from the beginning, and progress will be slow. Are you prepared to do that?”, Ser Cole put a hand to the Princeling’s shoulder.
One eye of pale lilac met two of deep brown.
“Yes, Ser Cole. I am”
The kingsguard had not lied when he said progress would be slow. Aemond had to first relearn how to ride and control a horse before he was even allowed to see Vhagar. Ser Cole had gotten quite the earful from the Queen about allowing him to do that.
“If the Prince can defeat me in a joust, he can ride a dragon”, Ser Cole had said.
Queen Alicent truly thought it would be impossible. Until three years later when she watched her son do just that in a tourney. Nearly caused her a heart attack. To see her young son out there. Aemond did not win the tourney, but he defeated four men, including Ser Cole, in jousting. He lost to Ser Cole in combat. Something that angered him greatly as he heard people in the stands laugh when he fell. His stance on not caring for tourneys was cemented by that.
Though any embarrassment was overshadowed by his mother finally walking with him to Vhagar. The bond was still strong, as he often visited her just to sit and read. And now, with his mother’s blessing and his siblings watching, he climbed onto Vhagar’s back.
“Sōvegon!”
Back in the air. With victories and losses under his belt. Prince Aemond swore that day that he would not be a man to be looked down upon. He may never become King, but he would become a man worthy of you.
And that would be enough.
————————————————————————
The Lady Viper said “I think your version of the tale wrongs the Princess most of all”.
“How so?”, the Lioness asked.
“The way things between she and her half-brother began”.
Deep down, you knew that the relationship you shared with Jacaerys transcended that of a sibling bond.
At times, you ignored the way he looked at you. All because the way he held you felt too nice. You knew it was a stupid, selfish thing. You just… there was something about being held by a man. You never felt safe being alone. Like something was missing. Being alone and without touch was like laying awake wondering if the lock on the door had been set. Or if the sound of something falling had been a book or a foot.
You were not certain why you longed for touch so desperately. It embarrassed you. And now it had you here, with Jace’s warm palms grasping your hips.
“If we are quiet, they shall have to go away”, he whispered into your ear.
Jace tipped your chin up to him. He was doing it again. Looking less like your brother and more like a man who you snuck into your room.
“Please”, he touched his forehead to yours.
He had never pushed you like this before. Only once did the two of you kiss with lips touching lips. It was normally lips to your cheek, shoulder, or back. Always framed by that silly game that would start so innocently. Or in the middle of him ruffling your hair, or teasing you in some way. Oftentimes with you not taking anything very seriously either.
And then came the night. The night that caused you to stop playing such games with him. That night where he did push you. That night where he laced his fingers with yours and kissed you deeply. You had been both acting immature. Wrestling, actually. One of you had called the other a name, a pillow was thrown. Then hands fell on limbs. You were both far too old for such roughhousing. Jace was on top of you and suddenly he stopped laughing. No force. No rush. He laid himself onto you slowly and gently.
The way he looked down at you, the light of your fireplace casting a strange glow to his face. It was one of those times where you were reminded of how little the two of you resembled one another. If a stranger had walked in on you two like that, they would have assumed you were two young lovers.
His mouth came down to yours. Warm. Soft. Deep. You shut your eyes, and his kiss was returned. And then, it suddenly felt wrong.
You stopped him. It had frightened you a bit. The way you had wanted to keep going.
And it frightened you now too. You needed to stop this. You were his elder. He followed you, in almost all things. This state he was in, it felt like you had made this in him.
All of this was your fault.
The knocking came again, harder this time. You pulled Jace’s hands from you and turned. He blinked at you, all the confidence washing away before your eyes.
“When I open this door, you are to go to the washroom until I tell you to come out, then to your room. Tonight will not be discussed further, nor will Daemon’s perverted games he has you play”, you put on your best glare.
His face flushed “Wait, please, I did not meant to… I only wanted to—-“
“I do not ask for your reasoning. We are children no longer, our choices bear weight. You or I may be named heir and you may be betrothed. This”, you pointed between yourself and he “Must stop. I am sorry for having participated”.
It was for the best. To reject him. Now.
Jace had always been such an idealist. He looked at the heroes of your family’s history and hoped to one day join them in the texts. A noble and strong Targaryen man.
So devoted to the family. And to you. Whatever he had wanted to do tonight, you would not let him. It would ruin your mother’s plans and it could hurt Baela. He may also bring on the ire of Daemon. As the Rogue Prince would likely not enjoy knowing how little Jace thought of his potential betrothal. Even if it had been Daemon that gave him advice on tempting you. Jace just didn’t seem to realize what this could do to you either.
Or did he?
He stormed into your washroom and paused only so he could close the door without slamming it. That little show of attitude had you feeling more than a little irritated. Jace just did not understand. You were not on Dragonstone anymore. People who saw him be affectionate with you, especially alone, could ruin you. And now was the worst of times for controversies.
You may like to wear flowers on your head, but there was more to you than that. Princess Rhaenyra made sure to educate you in all things political. She just had no way of knowing how you and Jace would grow.
You took a deep breath. It was not something you wanted to give thought to right now.
With some hesitation, you opened the door. It was the last person you wanted to see.
“Aemond?”
And guests, it seemed.
“Ser Westerling, Ser Cole… is something the matter?”
The three of them stood just beyond your door. Aemond had his eye focused on you, piercing through you.
“Are you alright, Princess? I thought I had seen someone following you as you came to your chambers”, his voice oozed with concern.
It almost had you. Until you caught the way his eye snuck a glance into your room. Looking for someone.
You batted your eyelashes “Following me? No, not at all”
Ser Cole shifted uncomfortably “It took you some time to answer the door, Princess. Are you well?”
Having Ser Cole address you directly was intimidating. You could still see the look on his face as he charged through the crowd towards you. His eyes wide, armor gleaming from the light of the torches.
He was older now, though he had only gained deepened wrinkles. Not much grey or signs of decline. Although, that was not what kept her staring for longer than desired.
Ser Cole, he looked… concerned. And not in the way Ser Westerling did. It was a concern that you could connect to your own mother’s face. It wasn’t supposed to be there. That look. His face.
“I am merely tired from the long trip. It has made me a bit of a sloth, I apologize”, you smiled with sweetness.
The elder kingsguard nodded “So, all is well? You are certain?”
What in the Seven Hells had Aemond said to these men? They were crowding her as if they thought… oh. Oh Gods.
“I am only concerned that you may have an unwanted set of eyes on you. A woman alone in a dark corridor”, Aemond said a bit louder than needed.
He absolutely knew who was in your room. What manner of trap was this?
“Ah!”, you clapped your hands once and beamed “You must mean my brother!”.
All three men jerked their heads back, for different reasons.
“He was escorting me to my room, then needed to use my washroom”, you took a step to the side “Jace? Are you well?”
He had the door cracked, just enough to hear.
On cue, Jace came out looking sheepish “Must you announce me? Oh, Ser Westerling! Ser Cole!…. Uncle. Has something happened?”
As he crossed the room, you stepped around him “Nothing at all, brother. Aemond was worried you were a prowler!”
By your body language, you communicated that Jace was to leave. He cast you a quick look, hurt, the recovered with a winning grin to the three men. Jace focused on Aemond, and gave his shoulder a stiff shake “Good to know our Uncle is still so protective”.
Aemond stared into his face, a cold look in his eye. The mutt had touched him. And even brushed by him. The fucking gall. He relaxed only from his belief that Jace had not intended to stay with you long. Otherwise…
Your hand took Aemond’s “Thank you for looking after me”.
Just like that, Aemond’s attention was back on you. And your brother slipped away with his shoulders hunched. The one-eyed Prince’s gaze softened “I cannot help but do so”.
The touch of your hand to his was something he had missed greatly. And you found yourself tempted to thread your fingers with his. You pulled away and laughed gently. The faintest touch of color came to his cheeks.
Ser Cole exhaled slightly too loud. The Prince’s swooning was a bit much for the man to bear.
“Hm, seems our Princess won’t be in need of a sworn protector later in life. She has a brother and uncle to watch over her! How lucky”, said Ser Westerling.
You could tell by the heaviness in his brow, Ser Westerling detected the tension. And he was trying to lessen it. His mustache and beard were whiter than you remembered. Still, he looked strong. Healthy. And only mildly irritated.
“Again, gentlemen, you have my thanks for checking in on me. Sadly I must retire. The morrow brings much to do, and I would hate for either of you to be tired on my behalf!”, that patented softness of House Targaryen’s Heart.
It brought the tension down further.
Ser Cole continued to stare at you in the way he often did. Like he was trying to make sure you did not suddenly disappear. It made something in you want to stop him as he turned and followed after Prince Aemond and Ser Westerling.
You closed and locked your door. Head teeming with thoughts. Of Jace. Of Aemond. Your mother. Luke’s succession. Lord Vaemond. And now, Ser Cole.
Slowly, you went to your cloak which hung by the door. You reached into the pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. The same one Ser Cole had pressed to your bleeding nose all those years ago. It bore the emblem of his house, which was stained still by your blood despite being washed.
Was this the answer to the question you dared not ask?
The Impossible Choice Series Masterlist 🤎
[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • fem!reader]
[warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, domination, swearing, physical violence, murder]
[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]
• This is ongoing series and I will upload new chapters here •
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - ?
Lady Baratheon Moodboard
Prince Aemond Moodboard
Lady Baratheon Gowns Moodboard
Princess Helaena Moodboard
Alys Rivers Moodboard
Music Themes Moodboard
Storm's End Stronghold Moodboard
Baratheon Family Moodboard
Fuck that hurts like a lot
His Lady Wife
aemond targaryen x reader
author's note: eek this is my first angst fic and i have no idea if its good so please leave comments and feedback!! its very loosely based off othello with ofc aemond as othello and the reader as desdemona. this can be read alongside my other aemond x reader but also can be read alone!! i am working on part two for my other aemond x reader but i'm struggling w ideas so please drop me a message if you have any!! also please comment if you'd like to be added to my aemond x reader taglist <3
genre: very angsty, prepare for tears
the love between aemond and his dear wife would be in the history books one day, he was sure of it. there would be songs, poems and ballads written about the ardent love between them. a love which their great, great grandchildren would aspire to have. their love was refreshing in the court, all the other marriages were ones of duty but theirs was one of love.
that was until everything tumbled down. when you first became with child, you were estatic, you ran to tell your husband, who was over the moon. however, rumours had spread of your infidelity, that you had laid with one of the knights of the kingsguard and that you were pregnant with a bastard. at first, aemond didn't believe it, his beloved wife would never do such a thing. but he started to let his self doubt overcome his love for you.
"have you seen the knight? he's a far better swordsman and far better looking than the prince, you can't blame the princess."
aemond became overcome with jealousy and insecurity. it made sense to him, why would someone as perfect as you be with something as blemished as him.
then there was the stocking incident. one of your stockings, with your initials on it was found where the kingsguard trained which led everyone, including king aegon and prince aemond to believe you to be unfaithful.
you were walking in the gardens when you saw your husband. you had a smile on your face whilst your husband barely made eye contact with you. "what is it my love, you have been ignoring me?" you asked with concern evident in your voice.
"do not call me your love when you are carrying anothers bastard." aemond replied sharply.
"you do not believe the rumours? do you? aemond i love you, you know that? please don't do this." you took a step back and could feel your voice falter.
"i have arranged for our chambers to be separated. your maids will know where it is they will take you. the king was ready to have you killed but your family are needed." he said quickly and walked straight past you. it hurt him to see that he hurt you. he wanted to go back and apologise but his pride and insecurity got the better of him.
being isolated took a toll on you and your pregnancy. you were struggling greatly with no husband or friends in court other than your handmaid who you appreciated greatly. you saw how your mother was when she was pregnant and she wasn't anywhere near as unwell as you were. you were going to send a letter to your parents asking for their guidance but decided against it, you didn't want your father to storm down kings landing. breakfast, lunches and dinners you would spend alone in your small chambers as your husband refused to be in the same room as you, which hurt you greatly. you loved aemond so dearly, you went for spending to everyday together to months apart. most days you would spend weeping in your chambers praying to the gods for any form of relief. you preferred staying in your chambers than walking around court. you would recieve stares, looks and laughs from everyone around. it broke your heart, you had good relationships with everyone, with alicent, otto, daeron, haleana and even aegon, who would refer you to as his "good sister". now they don't even look in your direction.
it was his nephews nameday celebrations which hurt you the most. you played the role of the perfect wife, in the perfect relationship which almost had you believing that aemond was still in love with you, that was until he whispered in your ear that it was all a pretence.
but that didn't stop you from loving him. though you wished it did, maybe it would hurt less if you didn't love him anymore. at whatever opportunity to ask about his wellbeing you would, you even went as far as asking his mistress, who took pity on you and kept you updated. you still prayed for his health every night and prayed that the mother would take pity on your soul and relieve you of the pain.
although aemond was smart, he wasn't as smart as his grandfather, the hand. otto had his doubts regarding the infidelity rumours he had his child spies keep tabs all over westeros and after eight months of digging, he found the truth.
"speak up boy, tell the king what you heard"
the young boy bowed to the king before the hand's spy told the council what he heard,
"the rumours regarding the princess' infidelity were created by daemon and his old whore."
aemond looked up in shock, he felt his blood boil as he held the arm of his seat tighter.
"it was said that daemon knew the easiest way to seperate the greens was through his "fickle nephew" and that once word of the princesses disrespect reached the riverlands, they would switch alleigances to the blacks."
an uncomfortable silence hung the room. all eyes were on aemond who felt a mixture of anger, guilt and distraught. he spent the past 8 months slighting and hurting his chaste lady wife. the king knew his brother well enough to know how his mind was racing,
"i promise you brother we will take down the blacks. you will be the one to take our wretched uncle yourself i swear this to you brother."
once again silence befell the room. aemonds face was unreadable. the council sat in fear of his reaction as his mother held his hand in hopes to calm him down.
"eight months. for the past eight months my lady wife has been with child with my child and i have not spent a single day with her. the lady wife who loved me so loyally has spent eight months confined to a chamber not fit for a princess because of that pathetic cunt. no, his death would not satisfy me. i need more." the calmness in aemond's voice evoked a deep fear in the room. daemon's doing caused aemond's beloved to suffer at his own hand, they all knew that aemond would not rest until she was avenged. "as for now i need to see my lady wife."
as aemond got up from his seat, a maester and midwife covered in blood, sweat and tears entered. the only lady pregnant was his wife. his heart dropped. this couldn't be happening.
"your graces. the princess entered her labours a moon early-"
before the maester could even finish, aemond ran out of the room and straight to his wifes pathetic excuse of a chamber as fast as his legs could take him with ser criston his mother, grandfather and both his brothers close behind him. when he saw the limp body of his once beloved wife he fell to his knees.
"no, no, no. wake up my love, my love please. my love i am so sorry. please no my sweet girl come back to me, open your eyes once more, you do not need to forgive me my love, i will spend the rest of eternity at your feet please just come back to me. i was wrong my love, i'm so so sorry." he cradled her dead body, begging for her to awaken, praying to every and any god to bring his sweet girl back to him. he was overcome with guilt and anguish, the last memory he had with her ended with her heart shattering.
it was two months ago. you had a feeling that something was wrong with you or your babe but none of the maesters in court believed a word you had to say since the rumours.
"please aemond just listen to me for a second, i need to see the maesters in my fathers home, they will know what to do, they saved my mother once before." you begged aemond as you trailed after him with abnormal aches in your body.
"why? so you can run off to your father with that bastard and face no consequences? no you will stay him and have that bastard here and face punishment from the king himself." there was no mercy in aemond voice or gaze. he saw the way your face and body crumpled. his words cut deeper than any blade and you couldn't hide it. he felt a pang of guilt in his heart but he pushed it aside.
aemond felt the bile rising in his throat after remembering his last encounter with you. gods he would do anything to turn back time and fix things. he was so fixated on ignoring and avoiding you that all good memories of you were distant.
"i do not remember the sound her voice mother. i do not remember the sound of the voice that spent countless nights whispering sweet nothings to ail my troubled mind. i do not remember the delicate touch of the lady who dedicated herself to comforting me." aemond confessed with a heavy heart, staring and clutching on to his wife's cold body.
"please aemond do not do this to yourself-"
"do what mother? torture myself? torture myself as i tortured my wife? as if carrying a babe was not torture enough, i tortured her even further by abandoning her when she needed me the most. she had no one apart from her one handmaiden and tis no ones fault but my own. how could i doubt her? how could i be so foolish? the last time we spoke, she insisted that something was wrong with her or the babe and i ignored her. i killed her mother."
"yes, yes you did my lord." spoke up your handmaiden with your newborn daughter sleeping soundly in her arms.
"you can cut my tongue, kill me do whatever you like with me, my loyalties are not with you but the the princess whos blood is on your hands. she loved you so dearly, yet you turned on her with no hesitation after hearing baseless rumours. her father was ready to have his men pledge alliegance to the blacks after hearing your treatment towards his only daughter but she told her father that it was all lies spread by the blacks and that you still loved her. she prayed to the gods everyday that once the babe was born and you would see how that it is your trueborn child you would love her once more. but now she is longer with us and she died with a broken heart."
as ser criston drew his sword ready to cut the throat of the maid, the prince piped up,
"leave her be ser criston. she said no word of lie. no harm should come to the only lady who stood by my beloved's side when she was alone. i am in debt to her. you are free to leave my lady, i will ensure all provisions are made for you."
"as kind as your offer is my prince, i promised the princess that in case of her untimely death, i would remain beside her daughter until her eighteenth nameday and to hand you this letter." aemond looked up for the first time since he entered the cursed chambers as your handmaid passed the baby to his mother
"i have a daughter?" his voice trembled. you both always dreamed of having a daughter and whilst he wanted his youngest child to a girl, you wanted the eldest to be a girl. but that dream was now thwarted.
alicent choked back a sob as she cradled the tiny baby in her arms. "she's tiny aemond. she has your targaryen hair and eyes but she is her mother through and through."
he was lost for words. he couldn't fight it anymore as he began to sob as he cradled your body just the way his mother cradled his babe.
"read the letter out loud my lady. i treated my wife terribly there is nothing left to hide."
your handmaid was hesitant at first but read your last letter to your husband out loud.
"my dearest husband, dear husband,
you recieve this letter due to my untimely death but our child lives on. i do not know if this is news is joyous for you or one of regret but please do not take your hatred for me out on our child. i know our child will look like you as i have never laid with another but i am unsure to if you will ever believe me.
when you remarry and have other babes of your own, ensure that they all love one another and that their stepmother loves them the same. if you cannot ensure this, send our child to my parents, where they will be cherished.
please remember the love we once shared and share that love with our babe. i know that you may not want to to keep the portraits of us and of myself, but i beg of you to do so, even if its just one of myself. i would like for our child to know what their mother looked like. regardless of what happened between us, it hurts to say that i still love you as i did when i first fell in love with you. i hoped it wouldn't end like this but the gods work in mysterious ways.
your lady wife."
no one could hold back their tears. aemond knew the letter would hurt him, but knowing that she died thinking that he hated her, that he would remarry and that he may even celebrate her death killed him. he thought that the stranger visiting him would be less painful than what he was feeling at that moment.
"leave me be, i would like to say goodbye to my wife alone."
as he gazed upon her sleeping face, it set in to him that he would never wake up to her again. he would never hear her laughter again. he would never see her smile again. he pushed her hair back behind her ear as he used and pressed his forehead against hers. he could no longer fight the tears as his voice broke whilst speaking to you one last time,
"how could i ever hate you, my perfect girl? you have been nothing but good to me. you, who showed me what love is, you who made this pointless life worth living, how could i celebrate your depature. i love you my sweet girl. i love you so so much. and how could you think i would ever remarry, my darling? you captured my heart and now you've taken it to the grave with you. i cannot explain how sorry i am, gods i hope somewhere somehow you can hear me. i pray that the gods punish me for the way i hurt you. i allowed my anger, jealousy and doubt get the better of me. i was a fool to not trust you. you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be like this in my arms, we should be in bed, choosing names for our babe who shouldn't have been born yet. who looks just like you by the way. she's the only reason why i'm still here. for her. for you. i will tell her the stories of her one of a kind mother, i pray to the gods she'll be just like you. i will have even more paintings comissioned of us, of you my angel, anything you desire. until next time, my dearest lady wife, i love you."
as aemond laid her cold body down back on the bed, tucked her in and kissed her one last time, he found a small box under her pillows. it was covered in blood from her labors but it was still wrapped like a gift nonetheless. he opened to find 3 matching necklaces. one fit for a man. one fit for a woman. and one fit for a baby girl. all with a sapphire in the middle.
taglist: @fultimefangirl @hc-geralt-23 @vivianeviolet @whatsonthemirror @69cocktimusprime
*tags w a line through didn't work!!
Unfamiliar feeling
PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1.7K
SUMMARY | You're the latest addition to the nurse team at the Compound, and you're assigned to take care of a certain grumpy super soldier and his wounds. You're treating him very gently and he's not used to this, but he welcomes the unfamiliar feeling nevertheless.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Light swearing.
Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
''Y/n, some Avengers are coming in with serious injuries today, and you're assigned to treat Sergeant James Barnes. I will let you know beforehand, he can be a real dickhead when it comes to being treated, he usually doesn't want any help. Try your hardest to get him some help, otherwise, we just can't treat him anymore,'' is what your supervisor tells you. Even though you've been a nurse for nearly 15 years, you recently started your job as a nurse at the Avengers Compound since moving to New York. You've decided to trade in the California sun for the business of a city like New York, finally fulfilling your lifelong dream.
''Okay, I'll take good care of him!'' you say with your usual cheery voice and a fresh batch of enthusiasm, and your face is pretty much permanently supporting a smile. This is your first time treating an Avenger, up to this point you've only treated other agents, and the injuries weren't too severe so far. ''At what time will he arrive?'' you ask and your supervisor tells you he will be in room 7 in about 10 minutes, so you go and get the room ready for his arrival, mostly checking if all your supplies and instruments are there and ready to go, which they are. You tie your apron around your waist and put on a face mask as well as rubber gloves right before Bucky gets wheeled into the room.
You see him and quickly assess any visible wounds, which there are plenty of, they must have gone on a rough mission. ''Good afternoon Sergeant Barnes, my name is Y/N and I will be taking care of you today!'' you say and the enthusiasm is practically dripping off of your voice, making Bucky's heart skip a beat, he wasn't used to someone like you treating him. He just grunted in response, not able to talk because of a nasty wound on his face and jaw. ''It appears you had quite the rough mission, but you're still alive and that's what's most important right now,'' you tell him and you start looking him over gently.
''To do a full examination of your wounds, I do unfortunately need to take off your clothes. Shall I give you some more privacy by closing all the blinds? It will just be me in here with you, but if you're more comfortable with it I can find a male nurse to look you over,'' you offer and he points a finger at you, which you take that he is okay with you looking him over. He also gives you a thumbs up when you ask him if he wants some more privacy, he isn't used to someone asking him this, caring about his privacy - he hasn't had any for so long he doesn't know how to act in all honesty.
''First, I would like to examine your face, that appears to be a pretty nasty wound,'' you tell him, just looking at it. ''Can I touch your face, Sergeant? That way I can clean it with a bit of alcohol, which is probably going to sting pretty bad. I think we won't need to stitch it up, we could probably get away with some butterfly bandages,'' you tell him softly, not talking too fast to make sure he can follow what you're saying. He softly nods and you grab your tray with the necessary supplies to clean and bandage his face. ''Is it okay if I put this tray on your lap for easy access? If not, I can put it on the bed,'' you ask and he shakes his head, notifying me he's not comfortable with it.
''That's no problem, Sergeant, I will put it on the cart next to your bed so I can still reach everything I need. Thank you for being honest with me, it is already uncomfortable enough to be here,'' you say with a soft voice, and Bucky isn't sure why you're so gentle with him, but he is very glad that you are. This feeling is strange to him, and it almost makes him tear up a little, it has been so long since anybody asked him for permission to touch him, it sends a warm feeling through his veins, warming him up from the inside. You clean his face with the alcohol and he flinches at the feeling, so you immediately retreat and stop your actions, until he's ready to go on.
When he's all cleaned up, you softly apply a few butterfly bandages, he only needed 5 so that's not too bad. ''Alright, your face is all done, and I have to say, I have never seen anyone look this good with 5 bandages on their face!'' you say and he blushes, which makes you chuckle. ''Next, I would like to do an upper body exam, meaning I have to check your chest, stomach, arms, shoulders, and back for any injuries. I need you to take off your tactical gear for me to reach those places. Is that okay?'' you ask, and after a short moment of contemplation, Bucky softly nods, helping himself out of his tactical gear. You softly put it on the counter behind you, so he can take it when he's done.
There are multiple wounds on his chest, but they don't appear to be as bad as the one on his face. ''I have to clean the wounds on your chest, the same way I cleaned the ones on your face. Is that okay with you?'' you ask and he nods again, he is slowly getting used to being touched by you, it almost feels like he's getting touched by an angel. All he can think about is how he would always like to be treated by you from this day forward. You give him the power to move on when he's ready, letting him take everything at his own pace. ''Thank you,'' he says with a deep voice, which honestly takes you by surprise, but you don't show it. ''For being so gentle,'' he finishes his sentence.
''It's okay, Sergeant. I get that it's not fun to be treated like this when you're at your most vulnerable. I try to make you feel as comfortable as possible, and we can go at your own pace,'' you tell him while continuing to clean the wounds on his chest. His face has softened a lot now, the grumpy scowl on his face now making a place for a bit of a relaxed expression. At first, Bucky was uncomfortable with you seeing his arm, he still wasn't entirely comfortable with it himself, but he got over that pretty quickly when he took his shirt off, you didn't comment on it, look at it weird, or even acknowledged it at all. Of course, you saw his prosthetic, but you've seen everything by now, so it didn't faze you in the slightest.
''Can you please lift your left arm so I can check your side and back for injuries?'' you ask and he does it immediately, the feeling he had at first being completely washed away now, he enjoyed you being so gentle, he missed this feeling and he welcomed it with every fiber in his being. ''You're looking good on this side, can you lift your right arm so I can do the same on the other side?'' you ask as you walk around the bed, but again no injuries. ''Also looking good!'' you say with a cheer in your voice. ''Do you feel comfortable with removing your shoes and tactical pants so I can take a look at your legs? You can keep your underwear on, I won't need to examine there unless you are experiencing pain in those areas,'' you tell him.
''Yeah, it's okay,'' he says this time, even giving you a small smile as he permits you. He quickly takes off his boots and pants and sits back down so you can examine them. Aside from some bruised, you appear to be good. Is there a specific place you need me to check out a little closer?'' you ask and Bucky shakes his head, he's feeling a lot better already, the super soldier serum also helping him heal faster than usual. ''Okay, then we're all done here for today!'' you say as you take off your gloves and face mask, showing him your big smile now. Bucky can't help but gasp softly when you smile at him, it's the most beautiful smile he has seen in decades.
''You can get dressed while I clean up, so we can discuss your wound care afterward,'' you tell him and he does so. You explain how he can take care of his wounds, and if there's any discomfort he can always come back. ''Again, thank you so much for being so gentle,'' Bucky said, ''It means the world,'' he says before getting up and walking towards the door. ''Sergeant?'' you ask, ''You can call me Bucky, doll'' he says and you blush immediately. ''Bucky? I'm glad I could make you feel comfortable. I'll be honest, I was told about your situation beforehand and I get it, it's nice to get a little bit of power back in a situation where you're practically helpless. It was my pleasure to take care of you today,'' you say and flash him another smile before he gave you a smirk back and walked out the door.
He felt like he was walking on a cloud, not having felt so well taken care of in so long. For nearly 70 years HYDRA just did as they pleased, so it did feel good to finally take a little piece of his dignity back. ''How did it go?'' Steve asks when he returns to the kitchen, where Steve was getting his after-mission snack ready. ''Actually, I think I have a new favorite nurse. She took great care of me, explained everything she was going to do, and asking permission along the way. It honestly felt good to have a bit of control about this,'' he said with a smile, and Steve completely understood. ''I'm glad to hear it, Buck,'' he said as he offered him half of his snack, knowing he was also very hungry.
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