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justlemmeadoreyou · 2 days

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the hot-for-teacher fantasy (ta!harry x student!y/n)**

summary: when y/n discovers her charming, handsome college teaching assistant harry styles is also a porn star, it awakens intense lust and longing. one day, harry calls her for a private study session. she wonders what he'll teach her, oblivious that harry knows everything.

words: 4k+

warnings: flirting, fluff, smut. p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, kissing, dirty talk, creampie.

***

Y/N tried hard not to stare at her extremely good-looking teaching assistant during her Friday college lecture. But Harry Styles was just so hot, with his messy brown curls, bright green eyes, and perfect smile. His tight polo shirt clung to his muscular chest and shoulders. Y/N had to look away before she started imagining what he looked like without his shirt on.

"Girl, you're drooling again," her friend Liz teased in a whisper, nudging her.

Y/N blushed. "No, I'm not!"

Lately, she couldn't stop thinking dirty thoughts about the charming TA. His deep voice and confidence made it impossible for her to focus. There was something really familiar about Harry too, but she couldn't figure out what.

During the break, Harry passed back their graded essays. Y/N's breath caught when he got to her row.

"Nice work on this one," he rumbled, handing her the papers with a crooked grin and letting his fingers brush hers.

"T-thanks," she stammered, flustered by his touch and scent.

After class, Y/N rushed out, head spinning. Harry was just too much for her self-control sometimes. His flirty vibe and hints of his ripped body under his clothes made her imagination go wild.

Later that night, Y/N was scrolling online when she saw a weird tweet from her friend.

"'Who knew our former classmate had such an unexpected second career?'" she read out loud. "What does that mean?"

Curious, she clicked the link...and her jaw dropped. Short video clips played of a VERY naked Harry, putting on an X-rated show! He slowly stroked himself while staring intensely at the camera.

Y/N watched with wide eyes, feeling heated. So THAT'S why Harry seemed so familiar - he was a porn star!

For the next few weeks, Y/N tried to act normal around Harry in class while secretly reeling over his shocking second job. Every time he handed back papers or leaned across her desk, new fantasies popped into her mind of him in those porn videos.

Flashes of Harry's chiseled body and sexy pouts made Y/N shift in her seat, growing wet. She started touching herself at night while rewatching his videos, wishing his large hands were on her instead of himself.

"Hey, everything okay?" Harry asked after catching Y/N spacing out for the third time that lecture. "You seem...distracted."

Y/N snapped out of her daze, cheeks burning.

"What? Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just a little out of it today."

Harry's brow furrowed, but he let it go and continued his notes. Y/N scolded herself - she needed to be more careful or he'd suspect something!

The semester continued torturously, with Y/N longing for the sweet yet filthy TA. She devoured every new porn clip, imagining his deep groans were because of her. Harry remained perfectly charming and professional, driving Y/N crazy.

***

One evening, he asked Y/N to stay after for help studying. Her heart pounded as they were finally alone together. Harry was dressed casually in a soft t-shirt that clung to his biceps and tight jeans that left little to the imagination.

"So, what did you need help with?" Y/N asked, trying not to stare at the bulge in his crotch.

"Actually..." Harry shut the classroom door and turned to face her with a smirk. "I know what you've been up to."

Y/N paled. "W-what do you mean?"

In one swift move, Harry crowded her against the wall, hands braced on either side of her head.

"I mean, I know you've seen my...other job," he breathed, leaning so close she could smell his sandalwood cologne. "Judging by how distracted you've been, you must be a fan.I know what you've been up to," Harry said, his voice low. "In fact, I have proof."

Y/N felt her face flush. What could he possibly know? She racked her brain but came up empty.

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out Y/N's notebook from class. He flipped through the pages until he landed on one with "H ❤️" scribbled in the margins.

"This looks an awful lot like the little doodles I've seen pop up in the chat during my streams," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N's heart pounded. He knew about her watching his porn! She opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off by capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

"Wanted to do this for ages," Harry growled between heated kisses down her neck. "Could feel you eye-fucking me every class."

"Harry..." she gasped as he palmed her breast. This had to be a dream!

Y/N instantly melted against him, whimpering into his mouth. They kissed hungrily, all the pent-up tension finally unleashing.

"You taste so fucking sweet," he groaned against her racing pulse in that smoky, ruined timbre that immediately flooded her core with fresh arousal. "Been driving me mad, pretty girl. Had to have you."

She had spent countless nights alone getting herself off to the fantasy of Harry - the casual acquaintance turned porn star she had established an embarrassingly strong fixation on. In those frenzied moments of pleasure chasing, her imagination had run wild with what it might feel like to have his large hands on her, to experience his undivided intensity and passion in the flesh.

But nothing could've prepared her for the reality. For this soft, reverent side of him she never could've pictured behind that dirty-mouthed and cocky boldness of his videos. Harry was watching her with those mossy green eyes, hooded but shining, his warm gaze flickering over her flushed face like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Y/N traced her fingertips over the sharp jut of his cheekbones, down the carved column of his throat, savouring the tickle of his rough stubble. She wanted to bottle the rich, woodsy scent of his cologne and sweat, to keep this moment perfectly preserved somehow. This exact pocket in time when Harry was focused solely on her, that made her heart swell and thighs quiver.

When she nodded mutely in response to his question, Harry leaned in to capture her lips in a slow, searing kiss. One large palm cradled the back of her skull, tilting her head for the perfect angle to lick into her mouth with slow and soft sweeps of his tongue. The other hand splayed over her ribs, fingertips trailing up to graze the underside of her breast, each pass lighting tiny sparks across her sensitive skin.

A soft keen parted Y/N's lips when Harry finally palmed her fully, the rough pads of his fingers finding her peaked nipple. His mouth instantly set to work soothing her desperate whimpers with deeper, more heated sweeps of his tongue. He continued paying homage to her breasts with laving kisses until she was writhing and panting.

"So pretty," murmured that devastatingly deep rumble. "So fucking soft and perfect for me, love."

Harry punctuated the dark praise with a sharp nip to the upper swell of one breast, soothing away the faint sting with rich swirls of his talented tongue. Y/N's back arched involuntarily, a strangled moan shuddering from her chest as the flare of pleasure echoed all the way to her clenching core which was already throbbing with need.

She grabbed at Harry's broad shoulders, tugging to seek out more delicious friction. But he seemed determined to drag this out as long as possible - their position putting her at his command as he mapped every inch of her squirming form in unhurried exploration.

His talented mouth continued blazing an open-mouthed path down her sternum, across the quivering plane of her belly, all while his callused palms held her hips in a firm, grounding hold. When his lips finally met the juncture of her parted thighs, Y/N let out a garbled keen, head thrashing against the hard floor.

Harry shushed her gently, nuzzling against her damp curls as his huge hands anchored her bucking hips in place.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he rumbled, hot breath ghosting over her sensitized flesh and dragging a desperate whine from her chest. "Be a good girl and let me take care of my pretty girl, okay?"

Y/N's chest felt fit to burst from the tangled storm of arousal, tenderness, and pure longing that seemingly came out of nowhere at Harry's husked promise to "take care of her properly."

She couldn't find the brainpower to formulate any response beyond a punched-out mewl, utterly spellbound already by the wicked promise in Harry's voice. She lay pliant and trembling as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, fully exposing her to the hot sweep of his piercing stare and the first scorching lap of his tongue against her aching slit.

What followed was a hazy, blissed-out oblivion of sensation as Harry set to work devouring her with so much focus. Focus she had only seen on him when he was in deep, grading papers. There were no more teasing licks or tantalizing nibbles - he dove in with determination, sucking at her slick folds and swirling his tongue in swirls around her throbbing bundle of nerves until Y/N was writhing and sobbing out his name like a prayer.

Her fingers twisted in those sweat-soaked chestnut curls, tugging and desperate for an anchor as the exquisite wash of sensation threatened to unravel her completely. Every breathless whine and whimper was duly rewarded with another purposeful flick of Harry's talented tongue, coaxing her higher and higher.

He lapped at her clit, one digit opening her quivering entrance to his assault. He pushed them in, while she arched her back, giving him a deeper angle. Wet noises erupted from between her legs, his two fingers perfectly anchoring inside, swiping against her sweet spot that had her whimpering like a muse.

He fucked his fingers in and out of her, the thick nerves on his arms seeming to be erupting to life. The same hands that she had imagined about, were now inside her cunt, wet and warm with how wet she was.

His other hand joined the slick heat of his mouth, cupping and kneading her bucking hips with possessive surety, it finally pushed her over the blissful edge. Y/N's whole body convulsed as her climax detonated with blinding intensity, keening gasps punched from her chest again and again on each bottomless wave of pleasure.

Through the whiteout ecstasy, she felt her hips being released. Then, powerful arms were scooping her up against Harry's solid chest, enveloping her entirely as aftershock tremors kept rippling through her frame. Her cries were instantly muffled as he kissed her, her taste lingering in their mouths as she drank him in.

"That's my girl," Harry praised, his voice almost low and aching with want. "So fucking gorgeous falling apart on my tongue like that, sweetheart."

Y/N could only whimper helplessly in response and manoeuvred herself closer to his sweat-slicked torso, shuddering at the raspiness of his voice. Large palms stroked soothingly up and down her back as she slowly came back to earth and rejoined gravity.

One calloused thumb caught a stray tear she hadn't even realised fell, swiping it away with tenderness. The gentle gesture finally focused Y/N's senses enough to really look up at Harry - and what she saw stole the breath from her lungs all over again.

His green eyes were molten and hooded, swirling with naked want but also something more profound. Harry gazed down at her with such adoration and protectiveness that another sob rose in her tight throat, heart spasming almost painfully.

"You're so beautiful," he rasped out. One large palm cradled the back of her skull as his lips found her swollen and panting mouth in a deep, searching kiss. "So fucking strong and brilliant and incredible. I've wanted you for so damn long, Y/N. Please let me..."

Y/N couldn't formulate a coherent reply. So instead she silently nodded, her assent between kissing him back with every ounce of frenetic passion burning through her and took Harry's full weight as he rolled them until she was cradled in his lap.

Their kiss turned searing and desperate as Harry skillfully discarded their remaining clothes. Y/N's strangled whimpers and whines were swallowed by his bruising mouth, her slick heat dragging against the hardness of his erection in tortuously light strokes.

Y/N instinctively sought out more of that maddening friction - rocking her hips up to meet Harry's in a desperate grind as she tangled her legs around his trim waist. The low, reverent rumble of approval he let out at her shamelessness made her entire body bloom with heat.

"So eager for me, aren't you love?" he husked against the swollen bow of her parted lips. Not waiting for a response, he sealed his mouth over hers in a lush, filthy kiss that left them both panting for air.

He teased her exactly to that tantalising edge of overwhelming bliss and sheer frustration until she was squirming and mewling into their heated embrace, nails scrabbling at the broad expanse of his sweat-dampened shoulders. At last, Harry tore away from her lips with a ragged groan, panting heavily as they pressed their foreheads together.

She was too far gone to feel self-conscious. The last threads of her self-restraint had snapped the second Harry palmed both cheeks of her ass in those huge, calloused hands and used his grip to pull her flush against the insistent jut of his straining cock.

"Wanted this for so long," he growled against her swollen lips before venturing down to scathe his stubbled jaw along the ultra-sensitive slope of her neck, leaving a stinging trail of fresh goosebumps in his wake. "Laid awake so many nights thinking about having you in my lap just like this..."

Y/N had no capacity to formulate a reply beyond a choked-off moan, hips canting of their own accord to chase that scorching friction. She wanted to whimper out, to beg him to stop teasing them both with this exquisite torment. But he didn't give her a chance, lush mouth finding her peaked nipple and suckling hard, stealing what little coherence she had left.

"Ah! ...H-Harry, please..." she panted out as sparks of both pleasure and sweetest pain lanced through her. She fisted those decadent chestnut curls tighter until he finally released her with a final teasing graze of teeth over her swollen, rosy bud.

He peered up at her with hooded, molten eyes, his pupils blown wide and inky with naked want. His mouth glistened obscenely in the low light. The sight alone nearly cleaved what little rational thought remained.

"Since you asked so sweetly..." he husked, gifting her one more searingly deep kiss before making a trail of open-mouthed licks and nibbles down the center line of her body once more. "My gorgeous girl deserves whatever she desires.Now look at me, love," he ordered, "Need to see those gorgeous eyes when I finally get to be inside my girl."

My girl.

Y/N's whole body locked up with need at his command. Their gazes crashed together in the space separating them - Harry peering down at her, mouth hanging open in blissful agony.

Holding that heated stare, he finally guided the slick blunt head of his cock to her entrance with one broad palm on her hip. They both exhaled harsh breaths in unison as he sank past that initial tight clutch, Harry's brows creasing with reverence while Y/N's mouth fell open on a choked off moan.

"You feel so good, baby, taking my cock like this," he groaned against her neck. "Wanted this pretty pussy for months."

The crude words somehow only turned Y/N on more. She matched Harry's thrusts, overwhelmed by how amazing he felt.

"You feel that, love?" he rumbled in that rasping timbre that immediately stoked the banked embers of her core back to feverish heat. "How fucking desperate you still are for me, even after falling apart so gorgeously?"

Y/N let out a helpless, pitchy noise of agreement muffled feverishly against the solid weight of his shoulder – nodding frantically as he kept up that slick, sinfully light rutting rhythm. Her entire body felt suspended in limbo, torn between too-much and not-enough with each deliberate slide of his cock spreading her wanting folds apart.

"Christ, you should see yourself right now," Harry practically purred in a haze of lust-drunk awe, swiping the pad of his thumb in a teasing circle around her revived, aching bud. When she arched into the contact with a strangled whimper, he let out a rumbling chuckle that reverberated through both their shuddering frames. "An absolute picture...and all for me."

On his final seismic stroke, the thick crown of his erection caught against Y/N's swollen, aching entrance - teasing her to the brink of shattering all over again. She let out a garbled noise that might have been Harry's name or just an incoherent plea, fingernails scrabbling at his back.

"Look at me," he ordered in a low rasp, drawing her hooded gaze up from where their damp bodies joined. Green eyes glittered with undisguised possession when their stares finally met - searing straight through her.

Holding that smoldering eye contact, Harry pressed forward with one inch at a time until Y/N thought she might combust from the sweet stretch and burn. Every shallow exhale punched from her lungs came out a choked whimper, matched by the fevered grunts rumbling from Harry's chest as he bottomed out, again and again.

Y/N's world had narrowed entirely to the joined point of their bodies, her fluttering internal walls struggling to accommodate the exquisite impalement even as fresh arousal flooded her with boneless surrender. She could only cling helplessly to Harry's sweat-slicked shoulders and lose herself in the intoxicating visuals before her - his arm muscles bunching with the strain, those ruddy, plump lips hanging open on ragged gasps.

"Fuck...f-feel so good, baby," he gritted out, words fracturing apart as his hips gave a minute involuntary roll. "Taking me so bloody well..."

A strangled cry escaped Y/N as that tiniest motion lit up every nerve-ending with bliss. Her heels dug into the small of Harry's back in a frantic bid for leverage, for friction, for anything to alleviate this keen edge between agony and rapture. He seemed to read her desperation, dropping his sweat-slicked brow to hers as he found her lips in a sloppy, uncoordinated clash of teeth and questing tongues.

Then he was pulling back in one sinuous torso-roll, finally giving Y/N what she craved as his initial retreat turned into a soul-shaking thrust that punched the air from her lungs anew. Somewhere in the spiraling vortex of sensation, she registered the harsh slam of his hips meeting her own, the strangled cry of gratification Harry loosed against her slack mouth as he set a steadily mounting cadence.

Any hope of finesse or coordination was swiftly abandoned as their shared need mounted inexorably higher. Y/N could only cling on and ride out the tide of Harry's sharp, bouncing strokes - bordering on too much even as every shuddering nerve ending begged for more, more, more...

Before long, his forehead had dropped to brace against her shuddering sternum, the rigid line of his body trembling with restrained power and exertion as his hips jackhammered with unchecked fervor. The slick, fiery noises of their joining felt loud enough to haunt Y/N's every thought from now until the end of time.

She could feel the heated pant of his breaths gusting across her neglected nipples with each punishing grind of their movements coming brutally unhinged. Every snap of his hips shoved impossibly deeper until she was seeing stars behind her screwed-shut lids, a high-pitched whine escaping with each narrow thrust mounting her up the cliff's edge.

Heat and tension built upon itself in a dizzying spiral, a thousand tingling points of rapture spiraling from Y/N's core until her entire being felt engulfed in the storm. Harry's large hand found her sweat-dampened nape and tangled in her hair, drawing her into a searing, wild kiss that only stoked things higher.

The groan he leaked into her mouth was utterly guttural and wrecked as she matched his hectic rhythm – nails dragging down the broad expanse of his quivering shoulders until her next orgasm suddenly crested with blinding force.

This time, there was no oblivion or sweet black voids of unknowing as Y/N came apart. Instead, she remained tethered to the blazing intensity coursing through every fiber, Harry's name escaping on a cracked litany as her release seemed to go on and on in pulsing waves. He swallowed each choked syllable, hips drilling her through the roaring tide until she arched clean off the desktop entirely.

Harry's broken cry of her name might have been reverent, might have been full of desperate adulation as he finally let go – thick spurts of wet heat joining the mess between their bodies as his tempo turned erratic and punishing. Y/N could only hang on with what little quavering strength remained, drifting in the bliss of euphoria.

Eventually, the high tides ebbed and they collapsed in a sweaty, ruined heap upon the desk's surface. Both of their chests heaved like they'd run a marathon, senses struggling to reboot as little aftershocks kept shuddering through their temporarily departed forms.

Incrementally, Y/N floated back into her body and surroundings – the achingly pleasant stretch and ticklish trickle of Harry's slowly softening length, the damp cling of their overheated skin, the stark scent of sweat and sex and desperation sated. She cracked heavy lids, momentarily stunned all over again at the debauched vision of the handsome man draped over and still sheathed inside her.

Harry's summer green gaze was already waiting, twin pools of blown pupils shining through a heavy-lidded swath of mussed chestnut curls. Enraptured affection and lust battled for prominence as he stared down at her, sucking in air like a drowned man breaching the surface. When she met his eyes, he opened his mouth only to release a choked exhalation – clearly as adrift in the tide of their passion as she was.

Y/N lifted one shaky hand to paw clumsily at the damp curls framing his face, caressing his flushed cheek in what she hoped came across as reassurance. Her other arm snaked around Harry's shoulders, anchoring him to her as he nuzzled into the gesture with a shuddering sigh.

This time when he found her mouth, the kiss was slow and deep and almost unbearably tender. Their heartbeats gradually realigned as they savored the languid exchange, prolonging the hazy afterglow for as long as possible.

Harry finally pulled back to mouth a reverent path along the curve of her jaw, words rasping low and ardent against the hammer of her pulse.

"You're so incredible, love," he murmured like a hallowed oath. Full of naked adoration and something deeper that made Y/N's newly reawakened heart clench and squeeze impossibly tighter. "Knew you would be...but god, you fucking ruined me just now."

His raspy chuckle carried an undercurrent of disbelief and familiar self-deprecation. Kiss-swollen lips trailed along the sloped curve of her neck and shoulder as he continued pouring out those hushed, awed confessions.

"Don't think I'll ever look at this bloody classroom the same way again...not after feeling you come apart around me so beautifully..."

After, they lay panting on the classroom floor, limbs tangled together. Y/N traced the bird tattoos on Harry's abdomen, unable to believe this had happened.

"If I had known this is what you wanted, I would've bent you over my desk ages ago," Harry laughed, still looking deliciously rumpled and debauched.

Whatever came next, whatever questions arose about the status of their relationship or the unorthodox circumstances that had brought them here, for now Y/N was content to simply bask in the warmth and connection she felt . Her wondering heart could wait until the morning.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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cheeseceli · 2 days

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Won't let go

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Prompt: "I swear to God when I come home I'll hold you so close, I'll never let go"

Warnings: Hyunjin is an idol, reader lives in Korea with him (no nationality mentioned)

A/n: you have never seen hyunjin and James Arthur in the same place | join the 1k event!

Lately, Hyunjin has been smiling a lot whenever he's at the airport, just a few hours from home

And he swears he loves his job, he really does, but he also admits he doesn't like everything that comes with it

And one of the things he dislikes was being away from home for so long

Away from you

That's precisely the reason why paparazzi and fans always see him smiling after landing in Korea after a tour or outside promos

Because he's so close from seeing you again

He can barely contain all his excitement

He's always at the front, bodyguards and staff constantly reminding him of walking slowly

And then he enters the car and I almost feel bad for his designated driver

He's often asking how long it will take to reach the destination, what time it is, if the driver can go to some shortcuts, if it's really needed to stop at the gas station...

The driver might as well start speeding just to get rid of him already

Of course, he asked to stop by at your place

It honestly surprised the members how he was able to jump out of the car so fast without tripping like he did

And in less than 5 seconds he was already at your doorstep, knocking at the door unafraid of your neighbours who were already sleeping

And in less than 5 seconds you opened the door

You barely had the time to see him as he hugged you tighter than you thought it was possible

That's how you both spent the following minutes: tears falling from your eyes as you realised how much you missed his warmth and his face buried in the crook of your neck, wishing he could actually merge with you

Those are the moments where no one hears a word from Hyunjin for the next three days or so

The company, the fans and even his members wouldn't know anything about his whereabouts

When he finally comes home to you, the only thing he wants to do is to be around you to try and compensate for all the time he's been away

And if it was up to him, he would never let go

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Awaken Beauty

Thank you for reading <3 don't forget the feedback!

Taglist (open): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @strangergraphics

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dandylovesturtles · 2 days

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I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 (coming soon)

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #rise raph #rise april #rise mikey #rise donnie #baron draxum #rise splinter #rise leo #cw violence #cw guns

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lilasamaaa · 1 day

Text

A lapse in judgement | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst (of course), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

Word count | 3.8K

Warnings | Mention of sexual activities, rejection.

Summary | The long-awaited dinner with your in-laws doesn't go as planned... Will you and your boyfriend manage to change their minds about your relationship?

Author's note | I'm back, bitches! This lovely prompt was requested, thank you for the idea Anon! I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think! ✨ (not proofread lmao)

Being the new girlfriend after the one who got away fucking sucks. Even when your lover was the one to end things. It's quite something to be the girl after the one he was supposed to spend his life with. Get married with. Have kids with. You wouldn't wish anyone to be in your place. Yet, here you are, all because you fell in love with him. Carlos Sainz. Him and his doe eyes. His impeccable hair. His charming smile. Frankly, you didn't stand a chance.

You knew who he was, of course. Formula 1 is among your fondest childhood memories, sitting in front of the TV with your siblings and parents. Each Grand Prix was a household event, and you could never bring yourself to part with the Ferrari-colored jacket you wore every race Sunday. It's been years since you've fit into it, but the memory is too precious. So, yes, you knew who he was. And you recognized him immediately when he walked through the door of your workplace, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You don't follow Formula 1 as closely as before. Just enough to keep up with the news. You don't pretend not to know who he is. What's the point in pretending?

"Back from Monza already?" you ask, wiping your hands on a clean towel.

He smiles. A polite smile, but one that seems to indicate he's not keen on chatting. Or at least, not about that. You ask him what he'd like, and he asks for anything with soy milk in it. He orders two, to go, and you smile again. Okay, you think. Understood. The exchange lasts no more than two minutes, and soon, the driver exits the coffee shop, leaving behind a lingering woody scent.

Weeks pass without crossing paths with him again, and honestly, the encounter has completely slipped your mind. That one early morning, though, you're sitting at one of the café tables, contemplating new drinks, new recipes to implement based on some customer feedback, when the little bell chimes behind you. You definitely need to stop leaving the door open to let the floor dry after your morning cleaning session.

You turn around, ready to inform the friendly customer that the café doesn't open for another twenty minutes, when you catch his gaze.

"I know you're not open yet," he starts, putting both hands in front of him. "I saw the sign. But I really need some coffee, and all the other shops are closed."

"I suppose I can make an exception for such an emergency," you say as you rise from your seat, smiling kindly at him. "What can I get you?"

"I don't remember the name of what you made for me last time, but it was incredible. There was..."

"Soy milk?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," you say, turning around. "Two?" you ask, feeling like you already know the answer.

"Yes, please."

You hurry behind the bar, preparing the two coffees, and you place them in front of him a few seconds later. He takes out his phone to pay and places it on the terminal, which emits a soft "beep." Then, he picks up one of the coffees before sliding the second one towards you.

"This one's for you," he says, and you barely manage to hide your surprise.

"Oh," you say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have charged you for the second one."

"But it wouldn't have been the same, then. I wouldn't have offered it to you," the driver says, winking at you before taking a step back. "Thank you so much for the favor. Have a good day!"

With that, he's gone. As you sip your hot coffee slowly, you wonder when you'll see him again next time. But already, your employees arrive and pull you from your thoughts.

"That guy outside kinda looked like Carlos Sainz, no?" Lucia, one of them, asks while tying her apron.

"You've seen him? I thought so, too," you reply with a smile.

The next time you see him is the exact opposite. You've just bid your last employee a good evening, and you're putting the chairs up on the tables in preparation for the morning cleanup. A knock on the storefront makes you look up, and you smile when you see him. You open the door, and he slips inside, slightly damp from the light rain falling outside.

"Have you ever heard of opening hours?" you ask while wiping down the countertop.

"Can't say I have," he replies with a grin, the sight making your stomach flutter.

"I think congratulations are in order," you begin, throwing the towel over your shoulder. "That was a clean win in Singapore."

"Thank you. It might be a bit late for a coffee, but would you like to grab a drink with me?"

The proposition takes you by surprise.

"Like? Right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. I know a place not far from here."

"Aren't you afraid of being seen or something?" you ask, arching a brow.

"Never with beautiful women, no."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. You've been living in Spain for ten years, yet you don't think you'll ever get used to the natural flirty nature of its inhabitants.

"Give me ten minutes to change and close up, and I'll join you," you say, while he nods, sitting on one of the bar stools.

Carlos takes you to a dancing bar, obviously run by friends since he spends five minutes shaking hands and greeting everyone as you enter. He leads you to the back of the bar, to a secluded corner where the music is much quieter, and you can actually have a conversation. You have no idea what to say. Where do you even start with a Formula 1 driver? Someone whose life is so different, so far removed from yours. Sensing your discomfort, Carlos takes the lead, asking you questions about your café, (Did you open it by yourself?) and about your life. (Where are you from? You have an accent).

The evening passes, and the drinks flow until you find yourselves tightly pressed together on the dance floor. You're back against his chest. His hands on your hips. Yours on his neck. Swaying to the rhythm of the music, all senses heightened. His lips don't take long to seek yours, and from the wall of the bar against which he pins you, you transition to his mattress, his warm body pressed against yours.

You don't sleep much that night. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to see him again. To have him like that again. So, you lavish your lips on his, your body against his. And in the early morning, as you wake up entangled in each other's arms, and you almost expect him to kick you out... He climbs back on top of you instead, pressing warm kisses against your mouth, your collarbones, your navel... You arrive at the café thirty minutes late, with bags under your eyes. It's never happened before, and your employees are so surprised that none of them even think to joke about your poor state.

You don't hear a word from him for the next ten days. Occasionally, you glance at the app you downloaded, which informs you about upcoming races. You know he's in Qatar. You try not to let the little voice in your head win. The one that laughs at you. That tells you that you'll never see him again. He's working, you think. He's busy. Your life goes on, though you can't help but watch for him early in the morning and late at night, your eyes lingering on the storefront.

Then, one day, he comes back. Right in the middle of the shift. Seeing him walk into the café, Lucia lets out a scream and drops the cup she was holding. "Dios mio," she says, clutching her heart. Several seated customers turn around, but nobody seems to pay attention to the tall brunette with caramel eyes whose gaze is fixated on you, from across the counter.

"Soy milk?" you ask, trying to contain your smile.

"Yes, please. Only one."

And then, he starts coming every day. Every day he's not on the other side of the world, that is. By his seventh visit, Lucia can almost serve him his coffee without spilling any, her hands shaking so much.

Outside of the café, the two of you slowly start going to museums. To restaurants. To the cinema. But there's one place you both prefer. His bed. You spend hours there, exploring each other's bodies or talking about everything and nothing. Exchanging thousands of kisses or sharing your worst childhood embarrassments. Moaning against each other or talking about your very first pet. And one evening, as you were recounting how your respective parents had met, he asks you the question.

"Speaking of that, would you like to meet them?"

Your heart skips a beat. It's been six months since you've been seeing each other. Since you've been exclusive. Since you've been a couple, in reality, even if neither of you has dared to say the word. That one, and the other. The one that starts with an L. Even though you know you do... And you sense he does too.

"I don't know," you say, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Have you talked to your family about us?"

"Of course," Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your head. "They know I've been seing someone. And they know it's serious."

"Do they even want to meet me?"

"They haven't asked, if that's your question," your boyfriend replies. "But they never have, with anyone. They know it's something I like to do at my own pace."

You nod, and a few minutes later, the fateful dinner is set for the following Saturday. Already, the ball of anxiety that has lodged itself in your stomach grows. And soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the door of the imposing Sainz mansion, your throat tight and your hand sweaty in Carlos'.

"Relax," the driver says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stroking your thumb. "They're not that bad."

Carlos knocks on the door, and a young woman opens it before jumping into your boyfriend's arms. You recognize her instantly from the pictures in Carlos' phone. Blanca. As if pronouncing her name in your head had reminded her of your existence, Blanca turns her head, smiling politely in your direction.

"Nice to meet you," she says rather blankly before gesturing for you two to come inside.

You encounter his other sister, Ana, in the hallway a few seconds later. She isn't much warmer, not even offering a smile and simply saying "Welcome" before rushing to hug her brother. The reception from the two women surprises you a little, and doesn't really help you feel confident about the evening. Carlos doesn't seem phased by the situation, helping you out of your coat before guiding you to the living room where the two young women have already disappeared. You're about to walk through the door when your eyes stop on a series of frames hung across from the front door. Your heart skips a beat. Feeling you come to a halt, Carlos stops as well, following your gaze.

"Fucking hell," your boyfriend says before taking the frame off the wall and placing it upside down on the buffet below. "I'm sorry. This photo has been there for so long that they probably don't even notice it anymore," he adds, his tone apologetic.

You know he's trying to reassure you, but his words have the opposite effect. You've briefly talked about your exes. Well, more about his. Isa. The girl he was with for seven fucking years. The one his parents loved so much. Seeing a photo of them together right before meeting your in-laws is like a knife to the heart. A reminder that you're the new girl. The one replacing her. You muster a smile that you know is fake at Carlos before continuing on your way. As you arrive in the living room, his two parents stand up from the couch, rushing to their son to hug him.

The embraces last a few seconds, until they turn to you. You greet them politely, handing his mother a huge bouquet of flowers and his father a bottle of fine wine, as they thank you with strained smiles.

"I also brought chocolates from my shop for you," you continue, turning to his sisters sitting at the dining table. "They're from a small producer in Andalusia, a real treat..."

"How kind of you," Blanca says dryly.

You miss the glance that Carlos shoots his sister, behind you. A stern look. One that scream "be careful". One Blanca pretends not to see.

"Let's sit down," Carlos' mother announces, gesturing for everyone to take a seat.

Intimidated, you stick close to Carlos, sitting next to him. The table is beautiful, adorned with fine porcelain and various flowers. You smile as you spot silver napkin rings and pick up the one in front of you. Your next breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on the letters engraved in the metal. Isabel.

"Ah yes, sorry," Ana begins, following your gaze. "We didn't have time to make a new one. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine," you say, looking up and smiling at her.

"So, dear, what do you do?" Carlos' father asks. "Carlos told us about a café, but we didn't quite understand."

"I opened my own café a few years ago. We also serve fresh pastries that I bake every morning. It's really taking off; I have several employees now, and I'm planning to open a second one soon..."

"Did you study culinary arts?" her mother asks.

"Uh, no, I don't have any degree," you reply with a nervous laugh. "School just wasn't my thing."

Ana and Blanca exchange a glance, and you lower your head, feeling your cheeks flush. You feel Carlos' hand on your thigh, and you cast him a grateful glance, which he doesn't see, his eyes fixed on his sisters.

"And so, the two of you met at the café, is that right?" his father resumes.

"Yes, that's right," you reply with a smile. "In May, the first time."

"In May?" Ana asks, looking at her brother. "Weren't you still with Isa?"

"Are we gonna mention her all night?" Carlos snaps.

"It's just a question, no need to get upset," Ana replies, rolling her eyes.

"Did you know who he was?" Blanca asks, holding your gaze.

"Uh, yeah, I recognized him. But I served him like any other customer," you recount.

"It must be weird," Ana continues, as your attention turns from her sister to her. "To see a celebrity walk into your little café."

"It's actually not so little," Carlos says. "It's pretty well-known in Madrid. Lots of customers."

"Never been," Blanca says curtly.

Carlos's mother gestures for her daughters to follow her, and the three women disappear in the kitchen before returning a few minutes later with their hands full of various dishes.

"Carlos told us you love to eat," his mother continues, giving you a genuine smile. "It's good that he didn't choose a very slender girl, for once," she adds, as you tilt your head. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

"What are your plans after the café?" Carlos' father asks, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Now that this first project has worked out?"

"I beg your pardon?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"What are you going to do with your life now?" Ana asks.

"Well... I'm going to keep running the café? It's my sanctuary, my biggest project. I'm so proud of it, I'm not going to give it all up now."

"Oh," his father replies, eyeing you. "I'd understood it was temporary. That you were a kind of investor."

"No," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "That's... That's what I do."

The silence falls over the table, punctuated by the clinking of utensils. After a short while, Carlos's mother clears her throat, meeting your gaze.

"Forgive our questions. We're curious to get to know the person Carlos shares his life with. You have to understand, after seven years... You always know what you've lost, but you can never know what you've gained."

"And that was quite a loss," Blanca chimes in, sipping on her wine.

"You can't trust anyone these days. You never know if they love you for you or for your wallet," Ana states, looking at her perfectly manicured nails.

"Or your contact list," Blanca adds, shooting a glance your way.

"Okay," Carlos suddenly says, throwing his napkin on the table before getting up. "That's enough. We're leaving."

"What?" you say, looking up at him.

"They're clearly not ready for this. We'll come back when they finally understand that my ex is just that - my ex. Get your things, love."

You stand up, feeling your legs tremble, as Carlos' hand find the small of your back, pushing you towards the hallway.

"Don't be ridiculous," his mother says, standing up as well. "You can't expect us to forget seven years just like that."

"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to respect my partner. But apparently, that's too difficult."

A few seconds later, Carlos is backing out of his parents' driveway, one arm around your seat, his gaze fixed on the rear window. In the passenger seat, you fidget with your fingers, staring at your hands and biting your lip nervously. His brows are furrowed. Jaw clenched. None of you exchange a word until you hit the main road, headlights from passing cars casting shadows on your faces.

"I'm so sorry," he finally says, stroking your thigh. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't," you reply, placing your hand on his. "I don't blame them. Seven years is no small thing."

Turning his head, his gaze meets yours.

"I won't pretend that those seven years didn't matter to me, that they meant nothing. Even though I don't have any romantic feelings for her anymore, she will always be a part of me in some way," he says, as you feel your heart tighten in your chest. "But she no longer occupies my thoughts. She's no longer imprinted under my eyelids. It's not her fingers that give me chills, her voice that makes my heart race. All day long, I think about you. I talk about you. Even at night, I dream of you. You're right beside me, so close, and yet it's not enough. You still find a way to get closer, to flow through my veins, to infiltrate every breath, every heartbeat."

"Sometimes I wish I could see myself through your eyes. That girl sounds exceptional," you say, laughing as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes."

"She's quite something," he replies, eyes on the road. "I can't wait for them to realize."

After the disastrous first encounter with your in-laws, over six months pass before Carlos comes join you on the terrace of your shared hotel room in Jeddah, placing a coffee in front of you. Bending down to sit beside you, the pilot winces, a hand on his stomach.

"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.

"I feel so fucking sick," your boyfriend says, a painful grimace on his face.

"Shouldn't you see a doctor, babe?" you ask, stroking his arm. "You look awfully pale. And you haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"I can't keep anything down," Carlos replies, throwing his head back before closing his eyes.

"Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," you start, earning a small grin from your boyfriend.

"I just love when you call me that."

"There's no way you're getting in that car tomorrow," you insist.

You didn't think you'd be so right. Well, not to this extent. Hurrying through the corridors of the hospital, two large aluminum trays in each hand, you dodge doctors and nurses along the way, weaving through visitors until you reach the door marked with the number you're looking for. You knock on the door, slipping inside before turning around to close it behind you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got both," you begin, still facing the door, handle in hand. "The paella was quite easy to find, but I admit I had to cross the entire city for..." your sentence dies in your throat when, turning around, your eyes meet those of your mother-in-law. Then your father-in-law's. And your two sisters-in-law, crowded in Carlos' small hospital room.

"Oh," you utter, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be there. I'll leave you alone," you start, turning around once again.

"No! Stay," Carlos' mother says, rising to take the trays from you.

"We're really happy to see you again," his father says, rising as well to embrace you. "Carlos was telling us how well you took care of him. Thank you so much for being there."

"That's the least I could do," you reply, feeling intimidated. "He would have done the same for me."

"I may love you, but I'm not sure I would have slept in that armchair. Or changed your blood-soaked bandage," Carlos replies, eyes half-closed, still under the influence of anesthesia.

"You did what?" Blanca asks, turning to look at you, eyes wide.

"Well, his nurse was busy and it started leaking," you shrug.

"You slept here?" his father asks.

"They wouldn't let me at first, but I didn't feel like leaving him alone in a foreign hospital."

"She annoyed the staff so much they just gave up on throwing her out," your boyfriend lets out in a laugh.

"I didn't annoy anybody," you reply quickly, fearing what his family might think.

"You threatened an intern to tie yourself to the chair."

"I didn't do that," you half-laugh, shooting your boyfriend a warning look.

Seated on the side of Carlos' bed, bickering with your boyfriend while running your hand through his hair in a loving gesture, you don't see the glance exchanged between the Sainz family.

"We were thinking about something, before you arrived..." Ana begins, her eyes finding yours. For the first time, you're not met with her harsh, cold gaze, but with gentle eyes. "We have a family house in Mallorca. We thought it would be nice to all go there together, so Carlos can recover in peace. We would be very happy if you joined us."

"It'll be a chance for us to get to know you. And to apologize for our pathetic behavior last time."

"Carlos chose you," his mother starts, smiling warmly at you. "And we all understand why."

You could cry with happiness at the thought of finally being accepted, being welcomed into the family of the person you've shared your life with for almost a year now. At no longer being the new girl. The one after the love of his life.

At the though of maybe, simply being the one.

The real one, this time.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #cs55 x you #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #cs55 x female reader #formula1 imagine #formula1 #formula one

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maxcuntstappen · 2 days

Note

for a prompt,

max as the f1 world champion. charles is the heir to the monaco throne. [lorenzo is king currently]

max and charles love each other. max wins the monaco gp for charles. monaco goes crazy.

"Max," Charles tries to sound stern, he really does. But he doesn't think it comes across too well with how he cannot stop giggling.

It's not his fault really.

It's his boyfriend's.

His boyfriend who has him pressed against a wall of his motorhome, relentlessly kissing at Charles' cheeks.

"Maxxxx," Charles tries again, "You need to go."

A 'uh-huh' is the only indicator of Max having even heard him.

Max redirects his attack of pecks to Charles' neck and it makes Charles squirm.

"Max, that tickles!" he exclaims, trying to wiggle his way out from under his boyfriend's grasp.

Max chuckles, finally moving his mouth away from Charles' body, to look him in the eye, "I know," he grins.

It makes Charles' heart jump, how happy Max looks, how pretty.

Time seems to stop as Charles cradles Max's face in his palm, relishing in how Max turns his face to nuzzle into it.

Blue eyes twinkling, lips perpetually pulled upward, cheeks pink and puffed up. Max is a beauty.

Charles opens his mouth to tell him so when a firm knock interrupts him.

"Prince Charles," one of his guards calls out, "Nous devons partir maintenant. Prince Lorenzo et Prince Arthur attendent."

Charles sighs, wishing he could stay with Max longer.

Max seems to be wishing for the same, if his drawn out groan is anything to go by.

Yet, Max doesn't move away. He only snuggles into Charles harder, head buried into the crook of Charles' neck.

Charles laughs, running his fingers through Max's hair, "Come on, mon amour. Time to go."

Max huffs, "No."

Charles rolls his eyes, fondness seeping through his pores, and gently tugs at Max's hair.

Max pulls his head away with an exaggerated moan, "Ouch," frown lines covering his pretty face.

Charles pecks Max's nose and all of them disappear in a second.

"I'll see you after, okay?" Charles says, squeezing the nape of Max's neck.

"Yeah," Max says, a small smile on his lips, "Yeah, okay."

Max steps back and Charles walks to the door.

"Wait!" Max exclaims, making Charles jump.

He turns around.

"What about my good luck kiss?" Max asks, the corner of his mouth twitching as he pouts, clearly trying to suppress the smile trying to break through.

"You don't need a good luck kiss, mon amour. You're Max Verstappen," Charles reminds him.

Even after all this time, ever after multiple world championships, countless podiums and several records broken, Max still lights up when Charles compliments him.

He hopes he never stops.

"Charles, but what if you don't kiss me and the race goes badly? Do you really want that on your conscience?"

Charles scoffs, "Okay but what if I do kiss you and then the race doesn't go well? Will it be my fault then?"

"Of course not, schatje. Then it'll mean that your kiss protected me from anything worse happening," Max replies, like it's the most obvious information in the world.

Charles' heart throbs with adoration. He takes a quick two steps and grabs Max's face in his hand, pressing a firm, soft kiss to Max's lips.

When Charles pulls away, Max looks dazed.

Charles gets it. He feels it, the overwhelming rush he gets when he cannot believe this is his life.

"Good luck, mon amour," Charles smiles, dropping his hands, and walking backwards to the door, "See you on the podium, okay?"

Max simply nods, seeming to still be too lost for words.

That's okay. Charles knows what he would've said anyways.

"And the winner of the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix... Max Verstappen!"

The roaring in Charles' ears nearly blocks out the raucous applause of the Red Bull team. But Charles hears them still, faintly. Acknowledges them, thanks them for loving Max and appreciating him and taking care of him.

His cheeks ache because of how hard he is smiling.

And yet, when Max steps up on the top step, quickly turning around to catch Charles' eye, his grin somehow widens.

Charles winks at him, his hands not pausing their applause, and Max laughs, softly shaking his head, before facing the crowd.

Charles' eyes are glued to Max's back as the Dutch and Austrian anthems play. It's a beautiful back, all broad, strong shoulders, tapering down into a small waist.

The only thing that could make Max look any better is if he was wearing red, Charles thinks to himself.

Well, all in due time.

Soon, he's being indicated to step up to award the second place trophy.

Charles looks straight ahead as he walks to the platform, not risking turning into an ooey-gooey mess for a glance of Max's face.

Lando stands tall and proud on the podium, his face split into a grin.

Charles hands Lando his trophy and Lando holds out a hand for Charles to shake.

It makes Charles roll his eyes. There's no need to pretend that Charles doesn't see Lando every other weekend, that he hasn't seen Lando sloshed out of his mind and passed out on the floor of Max's jet, that he doesn't send Lando memes constantly and bitches about it if he doesn't give an adequate reply.

Charles grasps his hand and pulls Lando into a hug.

Lando yelps, and gosh, Charles so hopes that there is some camera somewhere that has recorded the noise.

"Good job, mate," Charles says, arms tight around Lando.

"Thanks, mate," Lando replies, and Charles can hear the smile in his voice.

Charles beelines back to his original spot, next to his brother, standing behind the podium finishers.

As Lorenzo awards Max with his trophy, Charles has to suppress the urge to shout and scream and hoot.

All he can do is clap a bit more aggressively than he did for the others.

It doesn't miss his notice how Arthur does the same.

It's soon after that Charles and his brothers, along with the other dignitaries, are being hurried off of the stage in an attempt to keep them safe from the champagne flying in the air.

Charles has just stepped into the protection of the wings when he's being pushed back out to the stage again.

"Va!" Arthur urges, literally shooing Charles away with his hand.

"Ne fais rien de trop stupide!" Lorenzo warns, but he's grinning wide too.

God, Charles loves his family.

It's Lando that spots him first.

The very next second, Charles is drenched head to toe.

But it's worth it to have Max's giggle in his ear as he hugs him tight tight tight.

His race suit under Charles' hands feels sticky and cold and like home.

"Mon Dieu, Max, tu es incroyable. So incredible. I love you. I'm proud of you," Charles rambles, trying to make the most of the couple of moments he'll get to speak to Max before he's swallowed up by his team and media duties.

Max pulls away, smiling at him, all crinkle eyed, "Thank you for your good luck kiss, schatje," he gives him a quick soft peck before gently pressing the trophy into his arms, "This one is for you," and then Charles is swallowed up in Max's embrace again, the roars of the crowd ringing in his ear, nowhere as loud as the beat of his own heart.

#sometimes the fic comes to u like a ufo burning a crop circle in the middle of a fucking farm #lestappen #lav's ficlets #lav's prompts #charles leclerc #max verstappen #f1 rpf #no editing #no beta'ing #we ball #wrote this all out rn and posting it god bless #oh yeah let's ignore monaco's lgtbq laws yeah?

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g0dlyunsub · 2 days

Note

hey!!! Ugh I just love your account! I have a request for Spencer Reid x fem reader!! Can you do one where he is always working and it makes the reader upset bc he is cancelling dates and coming home late and kinda neglects her feelings and doesn't really notice how much it affects her and how sad she gets and then he misses their anniversary dinner and she breaks and tells him that it makes her upset when he's gone all the time and he just feels so awful bc he's so in love with her and never wants her to feel that way because of him and apologizes and reassures her and makes sure she feels loved!!

ty for the request and i loved the idea for this one!

wishful thinking.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: angst with a fluffy ending; very mild makeout session at the end :3

word count :: 2.4k

author’s note :: i kind of giggled at the ending as i was writing it, but i’m pretty proud of how this one turned out!

accompanying song :: neverthere by xander

spencer’s phone is quite literally the bane of your existence.

you know what to expect whenever it rings, so you hate when it actually does – its earthquaking vibrations and trilled beeps tear the happiness straight out of you.

it’s the second date in a row that he’s had to pass, and you wonder if you should just stop trying so hard. was it selfish to want to have him all to yourself, to have him seated right across from you, sharing your laughter as you pass him his plated pasta? were you expecting too much, imagining a serene life with him ten years down the road, perhaps with kids or pets of your own? was it unfair to think that you could craft a lie, telling him your stomach hurt really bad, so bad that you would have to curl up on the floor and pray he’d stay by your side just this once to comfort you?

all you ever wanted was spencer. more specifically, you wanted spencer during your first three dates, when he’d silence all of his phone calls, and wave them off like nothing even though you insisted he take them. maybe if you didn’t bring up the importance of taking work calls, none of this would have ever happened. maybe it was all coming back to bite you for your non-confrontational nature, since you could never plead him to actually stay.

but he’s your boyfriend… and that’s all that matters, right? after all, he has lives to save – people whose names are called out during prayers day and night by their loved ones as they cling on to the sliver of hope that your boyfriend and his team promise during the darkest hours. granted, spencer would drop everything if you were in a similar situation, but none of your problems have actually been life-threatening. but a girl can dream, can’t she? your first anniversary date was when spencer promised to make amends, a formal compensation for all of the past dates that he missed and left you feeling empty on your shared bed, stains of mascara chalked up on your dry cheeks.

“i’m so sorry, honey, i’ve just been… called in for work,” spencer stands, dusting the napkin that was folded nicely on his lap. you watch as he takes a sip of his glass of water, then walks over to you to plant a kiss on your forehead.

he runs his fingers along the velvety texture of the sleeves of your dress, and you offer him a weak smile.

“it’s okay, duty calls, right?” you feel the tears surfacing and you have to fight yourself to not blink. it’s too early to cry.

“i-it’s a really bad one this time, and i hate to do this on such an important day-” spencer begins to apologize frantically, and his face marks an expression of genuine concern with his brows furrowing and lips twitching.

“it’s okay. you need to go, i understand.” you state plainly, and you immediately feel shameful – your words are too assertive and snarly for how you normally respond.

spencer pauses briefly, fidgeting with his fingers, before he gives a slight nod in your direction. he then walks over to the couch, grabs a book, and tightens the clasps on his bag.

“i’ll be back as fast as i can,” spencer utters quietly and walks out of the door. when the apartment door locks with a click, you break down immediately.

at first, the tears fall one by one. but then, a salty stream evident of pure emotional wreckage makes its way into the slight gap of your lips, and it’s an unstoppable domino effect. your shoulders shudder and heave as you struggle to catch breaths in between, and you splutter cries of your boyfriend’s name.

maybe it would’ve been better to just stay as conversational partners, to exchange updates once in a while when he’d actually commit to a time. it was your fault for getting your hopes up high, and all of this – fanciful dinner and dressing your best for the occasion – was wishful thinking. you just didn’t want to admit it.

“y/n?”

you look up to see spencer in front of the doorway, and his bag that was barely holding on to his shoulder drops to the floor with a thud.

you quickly look away, brushing the tears away with one arm and sniffle before choking out a response.

“i thought you left already, why are you here?” again, your words come out icier than you had hoped and hit you with a sharp pang of guilt.

spencer narrows his eyes ever so slightly as if he’s scrutinizing you, observing your body language. it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re upset.

“i was going to. realized i forgot-,”

he clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows and proceeds, "i misplaced my wallet."

he slips out of his loafers, shoving aside his pair of converses that lie adjacent to your pretty pair of heels. he walks over to you, and you realize that you’re still seated at the dining table. you must look so stupid right now, waiting as if he’d just be returning from a bathroom break.

“i need to head out, but i promise… i promise we’ll talk about this really soon. we’ll have the anniversary dinner and-”

“did you even try?” you blurt out, and you look up at him with your puffy eyes glazed with tears.

a deathly silence clouds over the entire apartment, and you’re thinking of two options: leave the apartment and go run to a friend’s place, or confront him and see whether making amends – again, wishful thinking – would be possible.

“y/n. please believe me when i say that i’ve tried to, i’ve tried-”

you slam a hand to the table before standing up, your face twisting into an expression of outrage.

“no, because then you would’ve silenced it. you would’ve cut the call, just like you used to.” you fire your words at him as your hair sticks to the drying tears on your cheeks, and you begrudgingly wipe at your face.

a slow sigh escapes from spencer’s lips, and he looks at you with those eyes – the eyes that seemingly warn you, saying you don’t want to go there. not right now.

but you double down on him, the rage fueling your words as you lash out.

“it was just this one time. i only wanted you to stay for dinner just this one time.” you helplessly drop your hands to your sides, the tears landing on the floor with soft plops.

“i know. and i’m terribly sorry.” spencer bites his bottom lip and takes a step toward you. but you take a step back, and maybe that pulls a string between the two of you, because you can see how his shoulders tense up.

“look, can we talk about this when i get back? i’ll make it up to you, i swear.” he combs through his hair, the stress almost palpable as it leaks from his shaking fingers.

while you know he has to head out again, the way he so easily brushes off the conversation like it’s something he doesn’t even want to think about feeds into your disbelief. soon, however, your anger subsides into a tired frown.

“i don’t know, you might come home late… when i’m asleep or something.” you look at the wall where a photo of the two of you is framed, and you weakly smile at how happy you seemed then.

“i’ll give you a call, is that okay?” he searches your face for any signs of approval, but you’re zoned out thinking about the past, of how everything used to be.

“whatever, just go.” you wave him off and walk to the couch, where you lie down and turn against him to face the plush fabric.

spencer sighs, and his hand looms over your head momentarily before he grabs his wallet from the table. you hear a faint sorry trail from behind as he leaves the room, and your nails claw at the arms of the couch before the darkness cradles you once again.

it’s 10:30 pm, and you hear the doorknob click again. you had just cleaned up the dishes after eating dinner alone and left his portion in the fridge. you were now changed into your pajamas and getting ready for your night routine.

you peep out of your bedroom door to see spencer, his suit all wet. he looks at you as he takes off his shoes, and a sullen expression paints his face. did it start raining after he left? you realize that you were mostly cooped up in the bedroom since his departure, so you wouldn’t have known.

bravely looking up at him in the eye, you state: “you came back early.” you hate how unwelcoming you sound in his own home.

he pauses before he sets his wet bag on the floor and removes his blazer jacket to throw over a chair.

he approaches you, hands in his pockets and hair twisted in matted curls.

“hm.” he grabs a towel from the closet and makes his way to the shower, brushing past your shoulder. you feel an icy shudder spread through your spine after he closes the bathroom door.

was he giving you the silent treatment right now?

you hear the water start from the bathroom and you sink into your bed while turning to twist the lamp lights on.

after all that torturous waiting you went through, he was giving you the silent treatment?

fifteen minutes later, a knock reverberates from the other side of the bedroom door, and even though you don’t respond, spencer steps in. he’s changed into a t-shirt and black pajama pants, and he drops next to you on the bed.

“i’m taking the week off.”

the sentence startles you, and it’s something so unexpected you choke on your own saliva.

“what, what do you mean you’re taking the week off?” you ask him, finally turning to face him in the eyes. his brown irises blaze into your own.

“i’ve been pushing off everything you wanted to do with me — things that I wanted to do with you — and i’ve just been…” he turns away to play with the wrinkles on his pants as he speaks, picking out the dust that lies embedded between the folds.

he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a deep sigh. he continues, “i don’t know if it’s all worth it.”

silence casts a blanket over the two of you.

“spence,” you say after a while, and hesitantly lay a hand on his thigh.

“nothing’s more important in the world to me than you. you and your happiness. i know you love this job and i know you love helping people. you’re such a kind hearted man, and it’s why i fell in love with you in the first place.”

when spencer gives you no response, you confess: “spence, i get jealous sometimes.”

this time his eyes widen, and he looks at you.

“you do?” he asks softly, peering into your eyes and you cave instantly.

“of course i do. it’s… everybody wants you, spencer. we all need you, whether we realize it or not.”

he scoffs.

“but i only want you.”

his voice is raspy yet mellow at the same time, the smoothest stream of sweetness seeping through your eardrums. god. you can never stay mad at this gorgeous man, the same man that made you cry on numerous occasions just counting the past week.

“you need to do more than that, if you… you know.” you quietly murmur as you fidget with the hem of your nightgown.

“i know,” he speaks with a hushed tone. “i told hotch, and i told him it was going to happen whether he liked it or not. the demands of this job are… tough, but i don’t want to miss out on all the things we planned together. i won’t.”

you start bawling right when he delivers the last word, and all the tears that you were holding back spill over your flushed cheeks. your boyfriend immediately leans in to console you, pulling you into a tight embrace as his chin rests on top of your head.

it’s okay, he murmurs reassuringly. you ease into his touch, and you realize how much you missed this. how much you missed spending time with him.

his left hand tugs lightly at your soft hair while his right rubs your back in smooth circles.

“i missed you,” you speak with a hushed voice, looking up into his eyes as a glassy coat of tears blur your vision.

he cups your face with his hands before whispering, “i missed you too.”

you continue to blabber words of love-stained anguish but he cuts you off short, pulling you in for a short kiss on your lips, which are now tainted with your tears.

“you taste… salty,” he whispers, giving you a slight smile as he brushes off the rest of your tears that weigh down on your eyelashes.

“it’s because of you, silly,” you drawl as you taste the salty residue of your tears.

yeah, spencer responds hesitantly. but he’s wearing a small smile, tilting his head to one side as his eyes emit a glint of tranquilizing peace.

he reaches into his pajama pocket and takes out a piece of candy. you curiously watch as his fingers quickly remove the wrapper, revealing a glazed cherry-flavored sphere.

“may i?” he asks, and his faint voice is a gravitational force that you can’t resist.

you briefly respond with a lazy hm? before he plops the candy into your mouth and kisses you again. the sweetness explodes like fireworks with his warm breath, and the sticky layer of sugar melts like acid on your intertwined tongues. you let out a satisfied hum when you pull back, and it’s undeniably attractive the way spencer licks the corner of his lips.

a tear falls from your eye again, and this time, it’s not out of sorrow.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #mgg x reader

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buddiebeginz · 2 days

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Okay everyone listen to me Tim posting a B/T video (if he even did because his FB is private and people are saying he posted it but took it down) does not mean he’s saying Buddie is a no go and T*mmy is Buck’s endgame.

First of all let’s remember that Tim wanted to do Buck’s bi storyline years ago particularly back in season 4 and this was likely going to lead to Buddie (look at how the shooting arc was handled).

Second so much of this season has been geared towards Buddie. We had a lot of joint interviews with Ryan and Oliver (more than ever before). We’ve had Buddie talked about in pretty much every interview Oliver and Ryan have done both together and separately this season. This is not something that happened (to this extent) previously, it’s clear Fox did not really want them talking about Buddie. Also remember that if Buddie wasn’t happening and if Tim and ABC didn’t want them talking about Buddie they wouldn’t be allowing these kinds of questions over and over again. They would answer the Buddie question once or twice and that would be the end of it. Everyone knows how much people ship Buddie especially Tim. I'm positive he knows it would be really stupid to keep bringing it up if he wanted the subject to die down.

More importantly let’s look at how this season has gone we’ve had Buck and Eddie together more than ever. Tim even explicitly stated he was trying to put Buddie scenes in almost every episode. Look at how he answered that person about the karaoke scene. Tim basically said he was a Buddie shipper too.

Also think about this Tim knew he was going to have Buck come out and naturally it stands to reason that when it happened people were going to speculate more than ever about Buddie. If Tim has no intention of making Buddie happen and if his long term goal has been to put Buck with T*mmy as Buck's forever love interest (Like Bathena and Madney) wouldn't he have handled this season differently?

I'm not saying Buck and Eddie wouldn't have scenes together if the plan is never for them to be a couple, obviously not they're best friends but I do think Tim would have been extra careful with this being the first season Buck is out as as a bi character. Yet like I said we've had Buddie together more than ever. We've had them talking about sexual tension, dressing in couples costumes (when the actual pair that is dating didn't), singing karaoke together (even if most of it got cut), Buck talking about Eddie's cologne, Buck being a parental figure to Chris, Buck coming out to Eddie in a private quiet scene (when he only had two coming out talks this season), a buddie hug when we haven't had one for years, Buck talking about how he wished he could help Eddie when Eddie was talking about being sexually frustrated.

Most importantly though and what really seals the deal for me on why I think Buddie is happening is that Buck's entire bi awakening episode was focused very heavily on Eddie. Buck was NOT jealous that Eddie was getting to spend time with T*mmy in that episode (i.e. jealous because he wanted to spend time with T*mmy) he was jealous because Eddie was spending so much time and sharing parts of himself with someone else. He was jealous of T*mmy getting to spend time with Eddie and felt like he was being replaced. He thought him and Eddie had something special but then he sees the connection Eddie so easily formed with T*mmy and it hurt him.

We just haven't (as of yet) seen Buck really be willing to dig deeper to understand what he was truly feeling during all of that. How it was all about Eddie and not T*mmy. At this point all Buck knows is that T*mmy kissed him and Buck realized oh I like guys and he's reveling in the newness of all of that. At some point though he's going to realize none of this was ever about T*mmy and that even the main things drawing him to T*mmy were because of his similarities to Eddie. (I wrote a whole post about this episode btw)

But back to my point and that's why would Tim make a whole episode about how Buck obviously has feelings for Eddie and make it in the same episode where the audience (especially the general audience) realizes that Buck isn't straight? Why do that if Buddie isn't in the plans? If Tim's goal is B/T he still could have had something with Buck being jealous. What if T*mmy was hanging out with Chim and the rest of the 118 and he started being friends with all of them. They could have had it where Buck felt threatened kind of like he did in season 2 with Eddie but what it really was about was that Buck liked T*mmy and didn't know how to express that. What I'm saying is that Tim wasn't backed into a corner with this bi Buck storyline and T*mmy there were so many different ways he could have told it. He chose to tell it where it revolved very heavily around Eddie. Buck was even talking about Eddie right before and after he kissed T*mmy what exactly are we supposed to take away from that?

I know B/T stans like to say we just see what we want to see but decisions like having Eddie feature so heavily in Buck's coming out ep aren't made on a whim these are very deliberate especially when the powers that be know how much people ship these characters. Very specific choices have been made to tell a story with Buck and Eddie this season that is leading them towards the same goal and that's eventually together. If you're not seeing that it's because you don't want to.

There's also the fact that if B/T is the ship we're supposed to be rooting for if it's the ship that's going to be as big to 911 as Bathena and Madney (at least according to B/T fans) why has there been so little focus on them? I know some people might say it's a shorter season and they already have so much to fit. Or that they're trying to go slow with B/T's story but here's the thing they rushed into having Buck come out to the audience in one episode and then rushed into having him come out to all the other characters a couple of episodes after that. If Tim wanted more focus on B/T there would be. They also wouldn't even have to do much with them. We've barely even seen them have an actual conversation and the few times we have most of it has been when there has been some kind of uncomfortableness or annoyance between them. Like when Buck was full of anxiety during the date (and then T*mmy made that closet joke) or when Buck was upset about T*mmy not dressing up and T*mmy seemed annoyed.

I don't know I've watched a ton of different shows and to me this doesn't feel like how you build a ship you want the audience to root for. And I'm not saying that you can't have two people at odds and then have them get together. I love a good enemies to lovers thing but that's not what this is. To me the show is trying to tell us that Buck and T*mmy have an attraction but they really aren't on the same wavelength in other areas. Plus the show is always having Buck either talking about Eddie or having Eddie show up. Like when Buck came out to Maddie and was more concerned about lying to Eddie than his date going bad. We had Maddie literally Telling Buck if he had something to tell Eddie he'd tell him in his own time. What am I supposed to think about a line like that? Or when you had Eddie there during the whole scene with B/T at the karaoke bar or how the scene immediately cut from the B/T hospital kiss to Eddie. Plus we haven't even had a mention of T*mmy since 7x06 and now we're going into the finale. You'd think that they would have at least had Buck mention T*mmy during that date night scene where Buck was watching Chris for Eddie but no instead we had Buck being rather flirty with Eddie talking about his cologne and throwing popcorn into his mouth.

Now let's look at this video. There’s a high probability Tim didn’t even watch it. It’s long and not good in my opinion (I saw it before today). B/T stans call us delusional but they’re yelling about how Tim must believe in this bs invisible string theory they came up with and because it’s mentioned in that video. But here’s what the cover looks like

And this is why I think Tim posted it (if he even did) because it’s not about what’s in the video it’s about the title.

Has 911 found Buck’s perfect match?

This is what Tim wants us thinking about going into the finale. Is T*mmy the perfect match for Buck? Some like to think so but we know there is someone better and Buck is going to realize that.

No matter what happens with Buck and T*mmy at the end of this season and even if they're still together going into season 8 I 100% don't believe that T*mmy is meant to be Buck's endgame. Buck is for all intents and purposes the shows main character. We were basically introduced to the show through him we've watched him have the most growth, tim is not going to give him some lackluster love story.

Most primetime shows have a couple that the audience can root for. A couple where the audience isn't sure if they're going to get together but everything happening with them makes you want to see it happen so it keeps the audience tuning in waiting for the day it finally does. 911 had that for a long time with Madney before they got together and then later when they broke up and got back together. But now that they and all the main couples are happily married and rather settled 911 has no main couple like that not one that will garner media and audience attention, except oh wait they do it's Buddie. If B/T were going to be the couple they were betting on we would have had at least one Oliver and Lou on screen interview by now talking about them and we haven't. We definitely would have had more press promoting the couple but we haven't. The focus like I said before is on Buddie. The focus in the episodes is towards Buddie, the focus in the media, it's all a bright neon flashing sign that says BUDDIE. Nothing is pointing towards B/T in actuality I think Buck and Taylor may have even had more press than B/T has gotten so do with that information what you will.

I know a lot of you will hear about Tim posting this and think that's it Buddie is dead in the water but it's just not true. We are closer than ever to Buddie happening I promise you. We just have to be patient and let the story play out. Please don't pay attention to all the negativity coming from that other ship in fandom. Block as much as you need to so you can keep your peace. The best thing you can do right now is to show your love for Buddie as much as possible. Make sure you're tweeting about Buddie, leaving comments about Buddie on 911's official accounts (on ig YT tiktok etc), making new posts and graphics about Buddie on tumblr. We need to continue to be a loud (respectful) presence online and to remind everyone that we won't give up on Buddie.

Sending love to all of you ❤️

And remember:

#buddie #911 buddie #buck x eddie #tim minear #911 abc #911!#long post

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lxvebun · 2 days

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I'll wait forever if I have to

synopsis:you're worried Satoru's teasing has gone a bit too far. There's nothing wrong with saving your first kiss for someone special, right?

content: Suguru Geto x gender neutral reader. Fluff! Comes off a lil angsty in the beginning but its fluffy and sickeningly sweet. Around 1k words. Written with hidden inventory arc in mind so you'd be in the same grade together, but read it however you want♡.We are all a little lovesick for Suguru and he's a lil lovesick for you♡ eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡ enjoy!!

Based on Satoru's version of the fic♡

"Does it bother you that Satoru teases you so much?" The question breaks the comfortable silence you had as he walked you home. Sky fading from pink and orange cotton candy clouds to a clear and deep navy gradient canvas clustered with stars and moonlight.

Suguru is Gojo's bestfriend. You're sure he's used to his antics. Still, Satoru can take it a little far sometimes. Being oblivious to or ignoring the line completely. Crossing over it with a skip in his step and a smirk on his face.

"There's nothing wrong with waiting for the right person, you know." You reassure. Perhaps a little to yourself too. You'd wait forever for him, not that he knows.

(You kinda wish he did.)

You keep your voice soft, and soothing even with the unintentional undertone of worry. But Soothing enough to dulcify if Satoru's teasing did leave some cracks in his heart.

He lets out a low amused hum in agreement. Smooth as warm honey. Its drum startling the butterflies between your ribs awake. Not that he has to do much anyway to awaken them. It seems like they are always fluttering around when he's near. A bit smothering at times. Making your head fog over with images of liquid golden eyes and sickeningly sweet smiles.

You reach the traffic light before he speaks again. Filling the silence of waiting until the red light turns green.

"You don't have to worry about that, y/n. It's not hurting my feelings. I'm more than content to wait for my person" he answers sincerely. Not an ounce of impatience dripped from his voice. He means every word.

My person. his words weigh a little heavy on your heart. My person. Does that mean he already has his eyes set on someone? You're pretty sure a few of the butterflies have lost it's wings. Wings Shriveled and shattered at the thought. Broken bodies wriggling uncomfortably in your gut. Anxious and mourning as you think over who it could be. Would it be different if you'd just confessed already? Did you miss your chance or was there never any to begin with?

(The thought of him making someone else's heart race the way he does yours makes you a little sick)

You don't look at him. He's always been good at reading you, so in tune with your well being. You're an open book to him and usually, you're more than happy to let his fingers glide over the pages. Break you open to study you up close. Hoping that one of the words, one of the chapters in there is enough to lure him in, like a sirens song. Enough to steal his heart ...damn, how dare he fall for someone else.

"Sounds like you already have someone in mind, then". It comes out forced as you swallow down what you really want to say. Unable to decide between cursing him out or confessing to him on the spot.

You keep your gaze at the light ahead as if the force of it can will it into turning from this horrible shade of red to green, so this conversation can be over. So you can continue to walk in silence, so he can drop you off at the front door, wait until he hears the lock click from inside as he always does and you can dive into the comfort of your bed, dream of what could have been and try your best to move on

(You don't think you can if you're honest)

But again, you're an open book to him. He almost looks proud as he glances you over. Standing up a little straighter, failing to suppress a smile. A horribly beautiful smile that does not at all fit the turmoil inside your head. As if you're reaction solidified something in him.

God, how long does it take for a light to switch?

Your gaze doesn't falter as he steps closer to you. His warmth, his cologne enveloping your senses, wrapping around you like a spiderweb. Fitting as you feel like your heart is going to be torn out at any moment. Waiting for the words that will fracture your hopes. you think of just booking it through the red right at this point and leave him to choke on his rejection.

"Will you look at me, please"

He's replicating the soothing tone you used on him. Only he's so much better at it. Smooth like warm butter and sweet as syrup. How could you possibly deny him when he sounds this heavenly.

He's a patient man, he is. But he doesn't want to hurt you. Doesn't want you to shatter your own heart even more by thinking he could ever love someone the way that he loves you. As if he could ever want anyone else when it's always going to be you that captured his heart.

His fingers slide under your jaw, grip delicate as can be as he turns your head to meet his eyes. You're a little embarrassed at the lack of resistance on your part.

His face is kind. And despite your hesitance, his eyes are easy to hold. Feeling like sunsets on a warm summer evening.

"I'm just waiting for you to be ready too. However long it takes."

A timer goes off. The light has finally turned green. you both stay unmoving.

You feel like you've been staring into his eyes for hours when really it's only been a few seconds of silence after his words. Then you half-heartedly push him off. A laugh bubbles up your throat, relief evident in the melodic tone.

"you're awful, you know that?" not a sliver of actual malice in your words. He knows that too. continuing to stare at you fondly, eyes soft and a little love-sick. Smiling brightly at your words as if you complimented him.

"And you're beautiful" the timer of the traffic light is sounding quicker now, similar to the beating of your heart. Indicating that it will soon turn red again.

You have a moment of bravery. confidence, as you intertwine your fingers with his and pull him across the street before the light turns red. His grip is nice and firm, tracing heart shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb. Doodling silent I love you's into your skin.

you continue to walk to your home together. Hands now interlaced. Hearts intertwined. Crisp evening air kissing your skin and calming the heat blooming in your body.

"I don't want to have my first kiss at a traffic light. You deserve something more romantic than that too," you begin. swaying your hands back and forth. Focusing on the street infront of you. You see your front door coming into view.

"But if you feel the urge to kiss me as you drop me off at my doorstep," you see him begin to grin in the corner of your eye. It tugs at the corners of your lips too

"I'll let you"

thank you for reading, angels!! I'm havinf such Suguru brainrot atm😩🩷 he's so cute.

Also I thought his eyes were brownish/ gold because I always just imagine him with that but they are purple....🔪 YOU🫵 ARE GOING TO IGNORE THAT FOR NOW AND IMAGINE THEY ARE GOLD AS WELL. Thank you🩷

#jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru fluff #geto x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto

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tennessoui · 3 days

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wait lol au where post-war, the jedi order does a date auction a la every cliche ever where they auction off a date night with one of their jedi generals. it's supposed to raise credits for various post-war charities as well as stoke good feelings about the order (the smear campaign was pretty effective, even if sidious died before the genocide bit)

obviously both the hero with no fear and the negotiator are put on the metaphorical chopping block. anakin is a Good Husband™️ so he clears this with Padmé first, and she laughs and agrees and wishes him luck in surviving the hoards of fans that desire him carnally. she says as a senator, she will be expected to attend and maybe even bid. they both agree that it would be way too obvious for their super secret marriage if she bids on anakin, and anakin asks her to bid on obi-wan in a spur of the moment thing.

it's just. obi-wan was really hurt aboard the invisible hand and then he was hurt again when fighting with grievous. and is anyone vetting these random people who will get to go on a date with the jedi? anyone could win!! a disgruntled separatist could win obi-wan's attention for a night and then take him on a date and then kill him!!!! under anakin's very nose!!!

anakin actually gets like. super concerned about this possibility. like super concerned. he gets padmé to promise that she will bid however much it takes to win obi-wan's hand (she is after all generationally wealthy) and she agrees because she loves him and then also follows through because she's a woman of her word.

anakin gets bid on by several people, one woman wins, it's whatever, anakin doesn't care. what anakin cares about is making sure he and this person can go to the same restaurant as obi-wan and padmé. just like. to make sure obi-wan is alright. he was looking quite flushed during the bidding? anakin is Concerned.

and anakin's poor date, who paid millions of credits for his attention, has to deal with an anakin who is obsessed with what's happening a table over and why are they laughing and are their knees touching beneath the table and maybe anakin should go over and like? break it up? his master is obviously a bit uncomfortable in all this candlelight. he looks beautiful, obviously, but he's clearly uncomfortable and he would feel better if anakin were there. obviously.

and anakin's poor date ALSO has to deal with meeting obi-wan kenobi after/during dinner because anakin can't keep in his lane, and general kenobi is downright hostile and cold to her because he's feeling incredibly overprotective at the thought of anakin having to spend time with some woman who bought him. as if he were a slave again.

#kit's silly lil aus #obikin #i feel like date auctions were huge aus in like 2015 #but also i just finished season 1 ted lasso #so this was kicking around in my head #also anakin is out of his mind with jealousy that his wife gets to spend a romantic evening with his master #thats his master #why didnt anakin bid on his master??? he shouldn't have crowd-sourced this obviously #(anakin's poor date has not been looked at once)#anakin's poor date: so anakin --#anakin mind in a diffrent place: i'll stop you right there im married to my master #anakin's poor date: you're married to your master???#anakin: no wait. im married #not to my master.#im just married.#but also my master is here. and important to the story #anakin to himself: wait should i be married to my master??

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youandiwerealive · 2 days

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Slip under my armour [rd]

Author’s note: this is big, messy, fluffy and smutty and I don’t know if love it or if I hate it, but lawyer!Rúben is here 🫡 thank you to the anons who came by my inbox to discuss this scenario with me! Also this is not proofread because this is huge, it’s late here already and I work early tomorrow 😭 I hope you enjoy this, MWAH

Warnings: unprotected sex, some masturbation, MINORS GET OUT! Let me know if I’m missing something!

wc: 8176 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

You’re a hard worker. You have well defined goals. You’ve been working hard to accomplish your dreams since you were young. You were the best student in your class, you would ace every test. You would study hard everyday, stop going out until late at night with your friends so you didn’t had to skip your classes. You had a bigger purpose, and you knew that, you could feel that inside of you. You have a fire burning inside of you, pushing you, motivating you to be better, to do better. That’s how you end up here: one of the best lawyers of your generation, living your dream in one of the best law firms in the country.

You win every case they assign you, you work hard towards it. You never stop pushing yourself to your maximum, always wanting to exceed everyone’s expectations on your job.

With that being said, your love life hasn’t been as bright as your career. Love hasn’t worked out for you most of the times, so you just decided to focus on what brings you true joy: your work.

There’s this other lawyer who works in the same company as you. His name is Rúben, he already worked there before you were hired. His office is in front of yours, just a few steps in the corridor and you’re at his door. But you two never really talked much - besides work related things, of course.

You are focused and determined, you definitely don’t think about dating - let alone in your workplace.

Rúben is tall and broad. He always looks perfect in a way that nothing is never out of place in him. He always has a serious face on, a game face, ready to win all cases in court. And he does. He’s very professional and doesn’t let even the smallest of details go unnoticed.

Sometimes, you are in your office and you see Rúben’s shadow walking near your smoky glass door. It’s like he’s thinking about knocking on your door, but then he regrets it and walks away.

Rúben doesn’t talk much to you because he’s scared. He’s afraid that the high mountains that you think of him, will fall to your feet once you two get to talk about anything besides work-related stuff. He thinks about it a lot, though. He feels nervous around you, the way you always look so stern and serious, hard to break - it really intimidates him. He anxiously waits for the day when you would just wake up from all the numbers, square roots of your subtracted sums, always so pragmatic and strict. He wishes you could lighten up a bit, forget work and all your manners, laugh more, open up. He would like to help you forget about all the logical thinking that always surrounds your head, to untie your precious hair, always perfectly styled.

He thinks you’re gorgeous. He’s so intrigued by you. He swears he has never seen such bright eyes as yours, so delicate and yet, so deadly when you’re in ‘game mode’. He can’t stop noticing all your details, even the smallest things - he wishes he could have a chance to get closer to you.

And the chance arrives, when your boss chooses you and Rúben to work together on a new case: a big scandal has erupted when one of the biggest football clubs in the world has been accused of money laundering schemes.

“I need my two best lawyers to work on this case together. The president of the club is a big client of ours and we can’t lose this one” - your boss told you two while handing you the papers with all the info’s.

You and Rúben share a look, a serious one, intrigued by the new job - and even more about having to work together for the first time. If you were thinking about ways of winning the case already, Rúben was cheering on the inside, realising he would be spending more time with you.

“This is going to be a hard one, huh?” - Rúben tried to start a conversation with you.

“Yeah” - you simply replied, your eyebrows knit while you kept reading and analysing the documents in front of you.

You didn’t felt like talking. You just wanted to do your job - one you are pretty sure that you can do by yourself, instead of needing Rúben distracting you from winning the case.

“I’m going to talk to the president of the club. I need to understand what happened” - Rúben said in a cold tone, realising you’re not in the mood for a talk.

You got up from your seat, getting his attention.

“We are going. We have to work together, remember? We are like a time now or whatever” - you said, walking past him and leading the way. “And I drive!” - he laughed quietly at your attitude.

Your days have been filled with meetings - with the club staff, with your boss. With another coworkers who wanted to give their opinion on the case. You and Rúben have been working late together, trying to figure out a way of wining such a complicated case.

Your office became the space where you two would spend more time. That’s why Rúben would disappear for a while and then he would come back with some takeaway so you could have something to eat, he would cover your body with his jacket when you would fall asleep with all the papers surrounding you. He would look at you, looking so peaceful while sleeping. He would carefully remove the hair out of your face when your nose would start to gently move from the thin strands of hair tickling it. He would memorise all your details, from the most obvious to the smaller ones - the ones that usually no one would notice. The freckles on your cheeks, always making you look so innocent and cute. The way your eyes tell everything, even if you don’t want them to. No matter how serious your face was, your eyes would still shine like a kid who had just seen a box full of candy. And he loved that about you.

His memory would safely keep all your precious details in a box, in the corner of his brain. And he would remember them all again when his fingers would mix different colours of paint, focused on drawing your features in the best way he possibly can.

Rúben loves painting, it’s the thing he enjoys doing the most on his free time. When he’s painting, he focuses on the canvas in front of him, and forgets about all the work-related stress that he has to endure during the day. It helps him destress and unwind, and his mind immediately searches for his muse in his thoughts: you.

He remembers it all, and he tries his best to capture the shine in your eyes, the glow of your skin, the outline of your lips. Painting you is the only way he can touch you in some way, be closer to you, day dreaming about you the entire time.

Every day, you and Rúben would meet at one of your offices, drown yourselves in papers, brainstorming and writing down your best ideas that could help you winning that case in court.

And every day, you two would have more to talk about, even outside of work. Every time you two had to drive somewhere to get more information or have a meeting about the case, you would always blast your favourite music, and Rúben would mentally memorize your music taste, as he would show you some of his favourite songs after as well. You would always blast early 2000’s songs, the true classics like Amy Winehouse if you were feeling melancholic or Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” if you wanted to be dramatic and funny.

You two could easily forget that it was a work-related car ride, because it would always turn into a karaoke session. You would sing loud and put on a show for your coworker - even thought your singing was terrible.

Nevertheless, Rúben would always let you choose the playlist, and he would gladly hear you singing and laughing, enjoying watching you so free and careless. He too would loose himself a little bit, singing with you to some of the songs, but you would always end up mad at him for ruining your favourite songs - he didn’t even knew the lyrics right!

After eating so many takeouts at your office, Rúben started to get your favourite dishes right - without you having to ask. It would always be a nice surprise to you, you never thought someone could pay so much attention to such small details as your order at your favourite takeout.

“I’m tired of eating takeout” - Rúben says to you as he empties his plastic dish.

“Unfortunately we don’t leave work any soon so we can have an actual good meal” - you sigh and you move the papers around you, the fork dancing around your plate, not even feeling hungry because you’re so overwhelmed with work. Reading contracts over and over again, finding strategies to every possible accusation that your client could get in trial.

“You’re right. But we could take some of this work home” - Rúben said, testing the waters to see your reaction.

“What do you mean?” - you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“I would be glad to have a home cooked meal for once. You can join me, if you want to. I must tell you that I’m a very good cook” - he said with a smirk on his lips.

You pause what you’re doing, thinking about his offer. You said you didn’t wanted to get closer to one of your colleagues, but a dinner couldn’t hurt, right?

You breathe your anxiety out of your body.

“I’ll take your offer, Dias. You better really be a good cook” - you laugh at him while gathering your belongings, before saying goodnight and leaving the office.

You couldn’t help but giggle while you’re on your way home. It feels nice to have dinner out for once, instead of drowning in work all the time, you know you need this, it will be good for you.

After another tiring day at work, Rúben drives as you two go to his place.

You can’t help but feel a little anxious at the decision you made when you accepted his invitation. You’re not used to doing this, going to some man’s house to have dinner out of nowhere. But, Rúben is not just “any man”. He is your coworker, yes, but he’s also someone who you’ve been spending a crazy amount of time with for the past few weeks. He makes you laugh, has interesting conversations with you. He sings along with you to your favourite songs and you feel like you can be yourself around him.

He doesn’t sexualise you like a lot of dudes usually do, because of your job and your looks. You feel seen - actually seen when he looks at you. He always gives you a tender look, it could even melt you from how sweet he acted towards you. You already lost track of all the times you woke up wrapped in his jacket, carefully placed on top of you so you wouldn’t get cold. He listens to you and remembers everything you say. You never felt this kind of commitment from anyone else before.

You arrive at his place, the house is very neat and tidy as it looks almost immaculate. It’s well decorated, in black and white tones, matching Rúben’s vibe perfectly.

“Make yourself at home” - he says to you with a smile. - “I’ll start dinner”.

You walk to his living room, where he instructed you to go and “make yourself comfortable”. As you take in his place, you can’t help but notice the little details of his house. The way he has a lot of paintings hanging on the walls, beautiful ones really. Your eyes spot a bunch of canvas against the wall, near the balcony. They don’t look like paintings that he bought somewhere. They look like they are drying, some of them are still unfinished… could Rúben be the one painting them?

They look very good, beautifully draw and painted, but you can’t stop noticing that all of them have some type of detail that you associate with… yourself? The way all of the paintings have a girl in them, and she has some similarities to you. There’s a painting of the girl where it seems like he really captured all the details of the way you style your hair. Another one where the necklace she’s wearing really stands out, and surprisingly, it looks very much like your favourite necklace, the one you wear every single day to adorn your neck.

And there’s more: there’s paintings of the model using the same dress as you once wore to a work dinner, there’s a portrait of a girl that has a lot of your features, your dimples, the way your eyes curve when you smile. You can’t stop looking at those paintings, blown away by Rúben’s hidden talent and confused at why he would paint things that reminisce you so much.

“Hope you’re hungry” - Rúben walks to the dining table with a platter of food. You sit on the chair, confessing that the plate in front of you actually looks delicious.

As you two sit down in front of each other, you can’t stop making eye contact, trying to suppress a bigger smile on your lips. You take a bite of his cooking, and hum at the taste.

“Oh, this is really good” - you say with your mouth full, making Rúben smile.

“I’m glad you enjoy it” - he says while taking a sip of his wine.

“I didn’t think you were such a good cook” - you confess.

“Yeah well, there’s a lot of things about me that you don’t know yet” - he says quietly.

“I can see that. You never spoke about your love for painting, either” - you try and touch the subject, waiting to see his response.

Rúben goes silent, and his eyes immediately direct themselves to the paintings leaning on the opposite side of room. Of course you would see those.

“Yeah. That’s just something I like doing outside of work. Helps me calm down and clear my mind for a bit” - he simply replies.

“I see you like to enfatize details. They are very noticeable in those paintings” - you point out.

“I am a very attentive person. I pay attention to small details and they get stuck in my mind. I guess I just paint what inspires me the most and what I find most beautiful” - he clears his throat after speaking, not even able to look at you right now, feeling embarrassed by the fact you noticed what’s he’s been painting.

You smile quietly and continue eating. The two of you spend the entire dinner getting to know each other better. You laughed, share some secrets. You decided to open up a bit, telling Rúben a bit more about yourself and your personal life. You often don’t do this, you don’t really enjoy talking about your personal life to anyone, you never felt like cracking up. But you feel different around Rúben, and the atmosphere spiralling between you two during this night, is something that makes you feel comfortable enough to share more of you with him. And it feels nice to talk it out, it’s like there’s a different light invading you through the little cracks that Rúben did on you. You feel safe.

“Ready to go to court tomorrow?” - he asks when you two sit on the couch with your wine glasses still in hand.

“I am. Are you?” - you ask back.

“I am. I have a good feeling about the trial, we worked hard to win this one”- he gives you a reassuring smile.

“We did” - you smile back, remembering all the late nights you’ve spent working together. You think about all the brainstorming you two did, but also all the laughs and jokes you both shared, all the takeouts and naps you had on your desks. And you can’t help but feel a hole in your chest as you think about the future, as well. You got used to work with Rúben, you two got closer. What would happen after you finish this case? You wouldn’t be spending the entire time together anymore, you would go back to work on different cases, taking all your time away from each other again.

“What’s on your mind?” - Rúben pulls you out of your trance. He really pays attention to the little details, it’s like he can read you and your mood swings.

“Uh, nothing really. I was just, you know, thinking” - you blurted out, not having the courage to admit that you’re going to miss him.

“Thinking…?” - he tries to get you to continue your reasoning.

You take a deep breath and drink the rest of your wine in one big sip - needing all the courage you could get.

“Yeah, you know. We’ve been spending all our days together for the past weeks and I think I’m kind of used to this now. And this sounds dumb, but I was just thinking how we won’t be as together as we are now anymore, and I just want to say that I had a great time with you. You really made me see things in a different way, made me soften a bit and made me feel lighter, so thank you” - you say shyly, your voice barely above a whisper as you and Rúben are now dangerously close to each other on the sofa, your faces mere inches from touching.

His hand lands on your cheek sweetly, caressing you while his eyes shine bright as they look at you. He leans in slowly, taking in your features and making eye contact with you as he holds your face carefully with both his hands now, before connecting your lips together, giving you a sweet and tender kiss, that could make up for all the love words in the world. You kiss him back, anxiously at first but then you shut all the voices in your head and deepen the kiss a little bit.

Rúben pulls back, his hands still caressing your face gently.

“This doesn’t have to end if you don’t want to” - he says reassuringly. “I would always make time for you. Always” - he smiles before giving you another sweet peck on the lips.

You blush hard, not able to contain the giggle that just left you, making Rúben laugh slightly as well.

“I should get going” - you say with a sad tone. You don’t want to go, but you can’t lose focus - finishing this case is your priority now.

“Yeah, we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow” - Rúben says as he kisses your cheek softly.

You say goodbye and head home, with a stupid smile plastered on your face, like a teenager. Sharing a loving kiss with your coworker wasn’t definitely on your plans for tonight, but it doesn’t feel wrong in your chest. Maybe you should give him a chance, maybe you should allow him to know you a bit more. You go to bed on cloud nine, still thinking about how his lips felt like cotton candy against yours, how you felt like power was racing through your veins when your lips were connected to his.

Rúben sighs, content of the time he shared with you tonight. You two finally managed to have dinner outside of your offices, got to know each other better, shared histories and secrets to one another. You laughed and chilled, and Rúben never felt you feeling so light - he loves that feeling. The feeling of you opening up to him, letting him slip under your armour to discover more about you.

Both of you wake up fully on game mode. It’s court day, you are finally going to defend your client against all the money laundering accusations. You and Rúben are set and ready to win this case. You meet outside the court house, and wish good luck to each other, with a stern appearance but a warm smile saved for the other.

During the entire trial, the accusation attorneys tried everything to tear you and Rúben’s defence down. Thankfully, you two had everything planned and were ready to finish every type of accusations that could prevail. When it was Rúben’s turn to speak, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looked so good while defending your case so sternly and self-assured.

In the end, the judge announces his decision: your client was considered innocent and all charges were dropped. You and Rúben let out a breath and hug each other tightly, after hearing the words. You could finally breathe and relax for a bit, both of you did your job right and you won another important case.

When the trial ended, you gather your things and got ready to leave. You left past the door, but before you could reach your car, you hear Rúben’s voice, calling you.

“Y/N!” - he runs to you. You turn around and smile at the sight of him.

“Hi” - you say, feeling a bit shy next to him now, remembering the kiss from last night.

“Hey” - he gives you a big smile, one that could make your stomach swirl from all the butterflies. “So, I was thinking. We won the case and is only fair for us to celebrate, don’t you agree?”

“What do you have in mind?” - you question back.

“I was thinking that maybe we could go out for dinner? I mean, a proper dinner, with everything that we deserve. Only if you want to, of course. I don’t know if you’re busy or if you have the time for it tonight or-“ - you interrupt his rambling.

“I would always make time for you” - you say to him with a wink, and he blushes slightly at the reference. “Pick me up at eight” - you give him a kiss on the cheek before entering your car and driving home. Rúben stands still, amazed by your answer and still feeling your lips on his skin.

You got home and immediately think about what you’re going to wear for dinner tonight, feeling nervous to go out for what it feels like a real date with Rúben. He is swearing as well at the thought of taking you out, the pressure building up in his brain to make a good impression - as if you don’t him already, as if you two haven’t kissed already.

It’s eight o’clock, and Rúben takes a deep breath before ringing the bell at your door.

You open up, and his jaw drops at the sight in front of him. You always look beautiful to him, but tonight something about you makes you look absolutely breathtaking. You decided to dress in a different way than you would usually do at work. The knee-high dark green dress you chose from your closet hugs perfectly all your curves, and you matched it with your favourite golden jewellery. You smile at Rúben’s reaction.

“You look stunning” - Rúben breathes out.

“Thank you, Rúben. You look handsome as well” - of course. How could he not look gorgeous with a white button up shirt that’s not that buttoned up? You try to focus on his eyes, the big brown and shiny eyes that could immediately send sparkles through your entire body.

You two keep an intense eye contact for a minute, like you could just melt into each other’s lips right then and there. But Rúben desperately wants to take you out to a special night, and treat you like you deserve. So he takes a deep breath and offers you his hand. “Ready to go?” - he smiles softly while you take his hand and walk to his car.

Rúben parks his car beside a beautiful restaurant next to the beach. He opens the door and helps you out of the car, like a true gentleman, which makes you giggle.

“Table for two under Dias, please” - he says to the receptionist, who takes you two to your table. You are sitting right next to a big window, which allows you two to have dinner while having the sunset as background.

“This is beautiful” - you say, unable to take your eyes off the view in front of you: Rúben, looking gorgeous as ever with an astonishing sunset behind him.

“You are beautiful” - he admits, leaving you speechless for being so straightforward with his words.

“So…” - you clear your throat and try to ignore the fire in your blushes. “I need to know why you wanted to take me out so much” - you ask him.

He raises one eyebrow at you, with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Oh, come on. The takeouts on my office, then dinner at your house, now this. I know you were testing the waters” - you laugh before sipping on your wine.

“Fine. You’re right. But the reason why is actually easy to explain. I couldn’t stop thinking about you since we met” - he said without a problem.

“Really? I could say the same about you” - you decide to open the game.

He looks at you intrigued and laughs.

“What’s the thing that you couldn’t stop thinking about then? Or the things that caught your attention?” - he asks.

You fight yourself internally about how you should be honest or sarcastic and avoid his question. But if he’s been honest this entire time like he says he’s being, maybe you have nothing to lose in continuing to play this game.

“Well, at first, it was your smile that caught my attention, when I first saw you. But then, you took your sunglasses off, and you looked at me with those big brown eyes and I was just stuck. And to this day, I can’t forget them. I always get a bit nervous when I’m around you, to be honest. Whenever you look at me and smile, and I see those eyes, I lose it. I could get lost in them, and not wanting to get back to reality. I love how you look so stern and hard to crack and then you’re a goofy boy with a big heart. I guess those are the main things” - you reply, feeling lighter after taking those feelings out of your chest.

“You really feel that way?” - quietly asked. You just nod your head.

“What about you?” - you question back.

“When we met, I remember thinking ‘wow’ when I first saw you. You looked so beautiful, I still remember everything from that day. What you were wearing, your hair, your face. Your smile makes me smile too, and I love flirting with you and seeing you blush. You are adorable, absolutely gorgeous. I love your smile, your laugh, and I’m always anxious to see you again, waiting for you to arrive at your office or something, so I can just look at you and think that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And I love that you are so authentic, your eyes tell everything. You make me weak” - he says, without never breaking eye contact with you.

“Oh wow… I wasn’t expecting that” - you try to laugh your blush off.

“I’m being completely honest with you” - he smiles as he grabs your hand that’s resting on the table, gently touching your fingers.

You smile back at him, feeling more and more that this date is right, that you belong in this time and space right now.

“You know, it’s really good to be here with you” - you admit.

“See? You shouldn’t have played hard to get for so long” - he laughs. “I feel like this since we have met. That’s why I was always hinting it. I’ve been feeling this is the right thing to do for so long now” - he takes your hand and kisses it.

Meanwhile, the waiter places your plates in front of you, and you distance your hands.

“I wasn’t really playing “hard to get”… I was just… scared and insecure, I guess. Never thought you could really feel that way about me. So I just tried to ignore it, and ignore how I was feeling as well. Obviously I failed that part” - you say and he smiles.

The rest of your dinner was spent talking more and more about yourselves. It was filled with smiles and laughs, really enjoying your time together.

When you two got out of the restaurant, you took a walk on the beach with Rúben. He got closer to you and you feel brave enough to intertwine your finger with his. He gently takes your hand in his and squeezes it lightly while he looks at you with a loving look on his face.

“Who would’ve thought that such a stern big guy like you could be so romantic” - you joke and he laughs.

“I can do unimaginable things to the girl of my dreams” - he admits as he pulls your face closer so he can kiss you. Your lips touch again and it feels familiar, the sparks from last night reigniting.

He pulls your body closer so he can put his arm around you and hug you from the side as you two walk back to the car.

You reach his car and the tension between you two is palpable and unbearable right now. You grab Rúben’s hand so you can pull him closer and you start kissing him more, needy to feel his lips on yours again.

He takes control and leans you against his car, deepening the kiss as his tongue explores your mouth. You moan at the sensation, and Rúben stops. He opens the door to his side, pulling you inside as you sit on his lap, straddling him already.

“Didn’t knew this fiery side of you” - he breathes as his hands run through your entire body.

“Must have been all the wine” - you laugh - “Or the fact that I just can’t resist you” - you sink your hips on his bulge, already growing from the excitement rushing through both of your bodies.

Rúben groans from the sensation, feeling like he’s dreaming by having you on top of him, looking like heaven.

Your hips continue dancing on top of your date, as his mouth explores your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on your sweet spot. You moan, desperate to feel more of him - his big hands roaming your body not being enough.

Rúben pushes you back slightly, in an attempt to unbuckle his pants. But, when your ass touches the steering wheel, it hits the car horn, making you two stop immediately and giggle like two horny teenagers.

“Let’s go home” - Rúben tells you with a laugh as he plants a kiss on your forehead. You go back to your seat and take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself from what just happened.

After calming down for a bit, you lean on your seat, looking at Rúben while he drives. You’re pretty sure that heats are flying out of your eyes right now, like a cartoon.

"You're staring, you know?" - he smirks.

"How can I not? You're gorgeous. And I never thought I would feel like this tonight, honestly" - you squeeze his hand.

"You deserve to feel this way all the time. I'll try my hardest to always make you feel like this" - he looks at you for a second and kisses your hand in a promise of love.

You get to his house, and both of your hands are on each other’s body again, hungry for each other. Rúben picks you up, carrying you to his bedroom, his lips never leaving yours, kissing you passionately and gently at the same time.

He carefully lays you on his bed, hovering you as he kisses you once again. Your lips taste like sugar to him, addicted to the feeling your presence gives to his heart.

“I wanna make you feel good” - he whispers to you as you make out slowly and passionately.

“Then do it, please. I need you so badly” - you breathe out, wrapping your hand on his hair gently.

“I wanna make you feel good all the time” - he confesses, all the time spending with you meaning way more than just sex to him.

You look into his eyes and seal your passion with a kiss, not letting him get any further from you.

You unbuttoned his shirt, removing it from his body and letting his flexed muscles show. He quietly laughs at your reaction when he sees your eyes widen at the sight.

Rúben slowly removes your dress, kissing your entire body from your knees to your neck. He doesn’t want to rush it with you, he wants to take his time. He wants to make you feel valued, appreciated. He wants to touch you right.

He leaves some love bites on your neck and collarbone, his hands gently groping your ass and travelling through your hips, leaving your mind a puddle of hesitation and excitement.

Rúben’s fingers travel to your pussy, gently caressing it through the fabric of your panties. His index and middle finger draw circles on your clit, alternating his movements by exploring through your folds, applying some pressure on your sweet spots, making your breathing hitch on your throat when his fingers play with your clit.

“I can feel you wet already” - he whispers in your ear as he leaves a kiss on the side of your head at the same time.

You take off your bra, growing a bit impatient now. Rúben looks at you surprised by your action. His hands travel to the band of your lace knickers, and he takes them down in one swift motion. He gets up as he admires your entire body and he starts undoing his pants at the same time.

When his boxers drop to the floor, your mouth waters at the sight of his dick, already hard by all the making out. His hand grabs his cock instinctively, and he strokes himself slightly before meeting you again on the bed. Your arms wrap around his neck gently, pushing him closer to you, wanting nothing more than to feel your bodies glued to each other, warming you up with just his touch.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” - Rúben says as he grabs his dick and swipes his tip through your wet folds. He groans at the feeling, and you pull his head closer to start another make out session. Your tongues fight for dominance as Rúben slowly enters your core, going gentle and carefully with you. You whine at the feeling of being filled with his thick cock for the first time, not believing this is actually true.

Rúben could lose his mind at the way your cunt feels so soft around him, feeling you so wet and warm wrapped around his dick. He picks up his pace, going a bit faster to make you moan out in pleasure as he wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it gently.

“You feel so good around me baby, fuck” - Rúben breathes out as he glues his forehead to yours now, making an intense eye contact with you as he grabs both of your hands and intertwines your fingers together. Your bodies are one now, there’s no space between you two as your legs are tightly wrapped around his hips and Rúben’s cock keeps exploring your insides.

You moan when he goes faster, and he attaches his mouth to yours once again, kissing you passionately, for the millionth time tonight, really making love to the girl who has his entire heart.

“I need you so badly” - you moan into his mouth as he feels the need to go even faster. He was trying his best to delay his orgasm, but your body and soul drive him insane. His right hand travels between your bodies and lands on your clit, circling it painfully slowly. You use your now free hand to pull his hair slightly and scratch his back at the way his dick is making your pussy throbbing from all the pleasure he’s giving you.

His thumb keeps playing with your pearl, drawing circles faster now, feeling you getting closer to your climax by the way your cunt hungrily hugs his dick now.

“Please, please, I need to cum baby” - you beg him, moaning and whining when he’s able to fasten up his thrusts inside of you right now. His mouth goes to your neck once more, sucking on it and driving you insane, chasing your orgasm now as you feel the bubble in your stomach to burst. You moan his name as you cum on Rúben’s dick. He helps you ride out your high and a few seconds later, he pulls out of you, cumming on your stomach.

You two breathe deeply, trying to compose yourselves after what happened. He kisses the side of your face before getting up to pick a towel and clean both of you.

After he gently wipes you clean, he lays down next to you, embracing your body and cuddling with you.

You kiss him gently, not wanting this feeling to be over.

“I could get used to this” - you admit, looking at him with anticipation for his answer.

He stays silent for a moment, thinking about what he’s going to say next.

“Do you mean you could get used to the whole thing? Going on dates with me, actually dating me and all? Or do you just mean you could get used to have sex with me?” - he asks in a quiet tone, almost as if he’s afraid of your response.

“The whole thing. I would like to have this, you, for real. If you would like to have me as well” - you admit.

Rúben kisses your forehead. “Do you want me to be honest with you?” - he quietly whispers in your ear. You nod your head yes.

He takes a deep breath before speaking. “I would do anything for you. Have you looked at us? We are made of steel when we are together, wether is at work or in life. We get along great, I love getting to know you better. You make my heart flutter every time you smile, you make me feel intimidated when you look at me with those eyes. You drive me insane when you’re brainstorming your ideas and find great solutions when we’re working on dramatic cases. You’re so smart, it turns me on. How am I lucky enough to be laying next to you, after spending my night with you by my side? Fuck, this isn’t just a crush. I could even tattoo your name on my body but that wouldn’t even be enough to describe the magnitude of my love for you. I have your name running on my veins, I have hopes of a future by your side, and I want that to be true. I want to wake up everyday by your side, make you breakfast, give you a hot coffee when you’re stressing about work. Taking care of you is my favourite duty, giving you my jacket when you’re cold, switching off your computer when you’re working too hard. I never told you this before, but I love you, and nothing can break this feeling that I carry inside of me. The way you absolutely disarm me and I let my guard down near you says it all. I trust you with my life, you’re my girl. And I want you to be mine, forever” - he says while looking you in the eyes, being dead serious about his feelings.

You feel a couple of fears form in your eyes, and you’re left speechless by his love confession. You just have the energy to nod your head yes over and over again.

“I want you forever as well” - you choke out, hugging him tightly has he engulfs your body in a gentle cuddle, protecting his girl - forever.

He can’t stop his big smile from showing at your words. You two kiss a countless amount of times, cuddling next to each other and falling asleep in your now boyfriend’s arms.

It’s 8 am, the alarm rings and you wake up in Rúben’s arms. Unfortunately you can’t stay in his chest for all the hours that your body is begging you to. You two shared a few kisses before you had to leave to your place, so you could go home and get ready for another day of work.

Rúben showed up at your office, closing the door behind him and stealing some kisses from you.

“We still have work to do. We need to review the entire paper work of our last case so we can file it” - you say as he fills your entire face with small kisses.

He hums as he kisses your neck, him coming up behind you as you’re sitting on your chair.

“Let’s take this paper work home. We’ll do it together as I make you dinner once again” - he whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek.

You giggle but can’t refuse his offer. And that’s what happens. You meet Rúben at his place after you two left work. He left work a while before you, so he used his free time to paint. He’s shirtless, sitting on the floor, focused on the canvas in front of him, painting the best and most vivid memory he has on the front of his mind right now: his girl, naked in his bed last night. He focuses on the details of your body, the way your skin felt against his. You are his peace of mind. He reminisces how he felt last night, like the world belonged to just the two of you.

He paints the outline of your lips, his fingers carefully touching the canvas in front of him - thinking about you, how your lips feel against his own. You arrive at his place and the entire mood changes, your strong energy hitting him like a tornado, he loves it.

With all your paper work in hand, you ask him where can you put down all the files.

“Put them on the bed” - he says sensually as he walks right behind you, leading the way.

“What do you mean ‘on the bed’?” - you answer confused.

“We need to chill for a bit, work is stressing us a lot, babe” - he says behind you as he starts to take off your jacket and shirt slowly, kissing your neck as he exposes your skin.

Soon, your heels and pants are off, just like Rúben’s pants. When you notice, you’re already naked in his bed again, just a few hours after waking up in this same spot. He stays behind you, slowly kissing you and touching your body. His hands still have remains of paint from touching the canvas a bit ago, and they travel to your boobs, groping them as his lips wrap around your neck and shoulder.

His fingertips are painted through your body now. The environment feels sensual around the two of you, enticing the both of you and making sparks run through your veins.

His hand slides down your belly, to reach in between your legs and touch your clit. You start moaning at the wave of pleasure hitting your body, Rúben’s touch never fails to ignite a fire inside of you.

He plays with your pearl for a while, his mouth never leaving your skin, kissing you everywhere he can reach. The files are still in front of you, and Rúben doesn’t want to waste time.

“Come on baby, read the file for me, come on” - he whispers to you as he keeps touching you heavenly.

It takes you a while to understand what he means, your brain struggling to keep track of everything outside of the feeling he’s giving to your body.

In a few moments, you try and start reading the first words on the paper.

He pumps himself behind you with his other hand, growing harder by how erotic you sound in front of him, trying to read some boring paper work, but you just end up moaning and whining at the way his fingers flick your clit so nicely. He feels your juices already dripping through his fingers as he gets you so turned on.

Then, he overs you a bit to the front, getting you on all fours in front of him. His dick slides into you without a problem, your pussy already dripping wet from all the touching he did to you.

You moan at the feeling of his dick inside your needy pussy once again, loving the way he fills you up and fucks you so good.

He picks up the pace immediately, desperately fucking his dick deep inside of you as he hears the hungry sounds that leave your cunt.

“Keep reading the file” - he punctuates his words with harder thrusts, ordering you not to stop what you’re doing.

You try your best to read those damn words, your vision blurry from all the pleasure.

“Read our names baby, that’s right, another case that we won because we work so well together. We’re a winning team, just like we fit perfectly when your slick pussy hugs my dick so hungrily” - he groans in your ear, slapping your ass as you keep mumbling incoherent words mixed with whines and moans.

Your juices drip down your pussy, mixing with Rúben’s as well, making him slide in and out your cunt at an incredible fast pace. You’re both hungry for each other, desperate to cum. You slide your own hand through your body to play with your clit - which Rúben slaps away when he notices, substituting your own hand by his, bullying your clit non-stop until he feels your pussy wrapping around his hard cock.

“Cum for me, babe. Cum on my dick” - he tells you as he sucks another love bite on your neck, relentlessly fucking you, hitting your g-spot with every thrust and touching your clit without slowing down.

You feel a wave crash through you as you cum hard on his dick. Rúben can’t help himself and ends up cumming inside of you as well.

“You’re so perfect, fuck. I love you” - Rúben caresses your hair as he collapses on top of you.

“I love you more” - you smile at him, giving him a passionate kiss as you regain your breaths.

Dinner was long forgotten, as well as the paper work. You and your boyfriend were completely tired out from all the pleasure you end up giving each other through the night.

The next morning, you wake up early, dreading the thought of having to go to work - the feeling getting even worse after realising that Rúben has the day off. There’s nothing more that you wanted now than to just stay in bed with him all day. He notices you moving on the bed and wakes up too. He looks at you with a groggy smile, still half asleep.

“Is this Christmas morning?” - he sweetly asks as he pulls you closer to him and kisses you.

“Unfortunately not, it’s work morning. For some of us at least” - you playfully roll your eyes at him.

“You look like Christmas morning, at least” - he admits.

“I would love to stay here and listen to your love confessions all day. But I have to go, unfortunately” - you say with a sad tone.

“Have fun at work, I’ll stay here thinking about you the entire time” - he winks cockily.

You pretend to laugh at your boyfriend, already getting ready to leave his place.

“I will meet you after work?” - you say, half questioning and half sure of what you’re saying.

“If you have the time, of course” - he says, his cute features still lying between the sheets with his hair all over the place and a smudged grin on his face.

You smile at the sight in front of you as you get closer to Rúben to give him one final kiss before you leave his house.

“I will always make time for you”.

#lawyer!ruben #ruben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias oneshot #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fanfiction #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

Am I the Asshole for not disciplining my cat?

I (28M) live with 3 other people. My cat lives with me as well. Overall she’s pretty well behaved but still does some annoying cat stuff like meowing a lot. I’ve had cats most of my life. I get the feeling that one of my roommates who despite wishing I could befriend seems to not like me much has never been around animals much in his life.

I was speaking with that roommate when my cat started scratching a chair. I’ve got scratching post provided but occasionally she gets on the furniture anyway. The furniture came with the apartment (it’s kind of student housing). I was about to make my cat stop scratching. She responds to verbal cues I’ve noticed. Usually when i go “ah-ah!” she stops whatever she’s doing.

Before I could open my mouth my roommate kicked her. It wasn’t a hard kick but still worried me. I told my roommate not to do that. He told me he had to stop her because if there was damage to the furniture none of us would get our security deposit back and might get fined if it’s damaged.

That’s why I think I might be the asshole. I’ve been told Im too soft with this cat and need to discipline her more. Same roommate got on me and yelled at me in the middle of the night about a week ago when I accidentally shut my cat out of my room at night. I usually leave the door open because this cat has separation anxiety and tends to become stressed if shut out of a room I’m in but sometimes the door shuts on its own. I know that sounds made up but trust me it happens. I think maybe there’s a draft in there, I don’t really know what causes it. In any case my roommate was pissed because apparently the cat was outside my door meowing for a while but I was asleep and didn’t notice

Am I the asshole?

#aita #am i the asshole

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in1-nutshell · 2 days

Note

For the Ratchet and Drift adoption battle.

The Lost light ends up on earth for some reason. And trouble appears, Buddy’s birthparents. Coming out of the woodwork demanding to see their child. Now, depending on how long Buddy has been in the system, the state may have already relinquished their parental rights, but it does bring up another problem, by cybertron standards, Buddy is legally Drifts and Ratchets, Earth standards, less so.

This is just the start of an idea. Maybe it's angst and the parents are a piece of shit who want the child who they abandoned back for some really selfish reason. Maybe the parents truly do want some relationship with their child and poor buddy is just stuck in between the family that loves them and the family who they spent their life wishing loved them.

Maybe I just want the lost light to turn this custody battle into a fucking kangaro court. They show up in their holoforms and Rodimus starts to boo whenever the birth parents try to say something. He’s kicked out and the court goes into recess as they try and figure out how to hold him in contempt of court. Luckily a good part of the remaining crew have assembled to always have someone audibly cough whenever birth parents try to speak. Nevermind the fact that none of them even really need to breathe, holoform or no holoform. And Ultra Magnus is acting as their attorney. That's all I got.

The bio parents were done for the moment Magnus took on the case.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy (Dratchet's kid) meeting their bio parents again

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight angst, Human reader

MTMTE

The ship had docked again on Earth for a mandatory, in-person, meeting that Buddy needed to go as liaison of the Lost Light.

It was something simple check in that honestly could have been done online but there wasn’t any harm in some sightseeing. Many of the bots on the ship hadn’t been on Earth or hadn’t been there in a while and wanted to look around.

Buddy stayed with Drift and Ratchet.

Before they headed back to the ship, Buddy wanted to show their bot parents one of their favorite parks they used to go to feed the pigeons.

Ratchet napped in the parking lot, while Drift activated his holoform to go after Buddy.

After a bit Drift started heading back to his alt mode with Buddy trailing behind after forgetting their water bottle at the bench.

Buddy walking back to Drift alt mode.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Buddy turns around and freezes as their face collides with someone’s chest.

A familiar chest.

They push themselves off the person as another person comes up too.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”--Buddy

“That’s what I’d like to know.”--Drift

Buddy looks behind them to see Drift’s holoform marching up to Buddy.

He gently places his hand on their shoulder and looks at the two humans.

“A who might you be?”--Drift

“I’m their father.”--Dad

“And I’m their mother.”--Mom

Drift raises his eyebrows.

“Buddy are they…”--Drift

“My biological parents? Yes, and I thought I’d never see you again after you put me in the system.”--Buddy

Neither of the parents get the little hint of venom in their voice.

“Well, we’re here now! And its time to take you home—”--Mom

“Take them home?”--Drift

“Take me home?”--Buddy

“That’s right Pal—”--Dad

“My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Whatever, we’re going home now, so if you’d just come here.”--Dad

The ‘Dad’ tries to grab Buddy’s wrist, but Drift pushes Buddy back.

The ‘Dad’ narrows his eyes at Drift.

“Are we going to have a problem here?”--Dad

Drift narrows his eyes as well.

“I think we are.”--Drift

Buddy’s eyes widen.

“Listen everyone, HE is legally my main guardian. Has been with my other guardian for a while now.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ huffs.

“Well until WE see the paperwork, if its not justified by the court here then its null and void for us. Now get over here and—”--Mom

“And what’s happening here?”--Ratchet

Buddy smiled at Ratchet’s holoform coming overlooking more annoyed than usual.

“These are Buddy’s biological parents.”--Drift

Ratchet’s eyes narrow and stands by Buddy’s side.

“The parents that put you in the system?”—Ratchet

“Yep.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ starts getting more annoyed.

“That’s in the past and we’ve already settled a court order to get Pal—”--Mom

“Buddy.”—Buddy, Drift and Ratchet

“—Back to us.”--Mom

Ratchet turns to Buddy.

“Wait in the ambulance.”--Ratchet

“But—”--Buddy

“Kid, trust me. We need to have a chat with your ‘parents’.”--Ratchet

Buddy looks at them all before walking to Ratchet’s alt mode.

Buddy wordlessly goes to the ambulance while the muffled yelling was heard outside.

They just strap themselves in the back and hug themselves tightly.

Everything went so fast…

They felt their seatbelt tighten.

It’s a heavy quiet on the drive back to the ship.

When they transformed Ratchet passed them to Drift who just holds them to his chassis.

A crew meeting was called.

“So, Buddy’s bio parents want them back because, and I quote ‘We want to embrace them once again!’. Am I missing something?”--Rodimus

“That’s about it.”--Drift

Half of the bots laugh.

“Good luck with that! Buddy’s legally Dratchet’s kid!”--Whirl

“Whirl we’ve talked about the name—”--Cyclonus

“Yeah! They’re Dratchet’s kid!”--Tailgate

“…Why do I even bother with you?”--Cyclonus

“But they did bring up a point, Earth courts and legal system don’t see Buddy as their kid. Meaning to them, Buddy’s still in the system. And if they play their cards right…”--Megatron

Drift and Ratchet stiffen at the thought.

The crew starts talking amongst themselves but all feel angry at this revelation.

“We can’t let that happen!”--Nautica

“That’s why we’re going to court to fight for Buddy’s case. Ultra Magnus has agreed to represent Buddy—”--Megatron

“Those Fleshy’s are so screwed!”--Whirl

Time to take this to court.

Buddy is put into a different home while the case gets settled.

Meaning no contact with anyone.

There had been attempts by the bots to go and see Buddy, but they complied hearing that any visit could jeopardize their position in custody.

Thank goodness Magnus was there to help with the court case and legal things.

Also to help mediate the humans and the bots ‘immature’ actions.

So many of the bots in their holoforms were making obnoxious noises (cough* Rodimus and Whirl*cough).

There were more breaks because of this.

No one of the bots are happy to see the parents when come to the stand, fuming when the pair put on an act.

Even going as far as stating that Drift and Ratchet were unfit parents, not being the same species.

Something strange happens the day when Buddy is supposed to take the stand.

Everyone is asked to come back the next day for the final verdict.

All the bots are confused and worried.

Ratchet and Drift are especially worried about what happened.

Today would have been the first time the pair or anyone would have seen Buddy, and all of a sudden, the day they are supposed to take the stand no one is allowed to see them?

Something is wrong and they can feel it.

The pair find solace in each other while riding high on anxiety.

What if the court decided they truly weren’t fit to raise their human kid?

Would Buddy have to leave the Lost Light for good?

There were too many questions going through their processors right now.

The next day Magnus is updated on what happened yesterday.

The next day the bots and bio parents come in.

Buddy is sitting behind a desk far from everyone else in the room with a guard by their side.

“Ultra Magnus and the crew of the Lost Light, in the case of the legality of the adoption document of Buddy, the jury recognizes that Drift and Ratchet are the legal guardians and will be formally recognized in the system here on Earth.”--Judge

All the bots are floored and cheer hearing the news.

Ratchet and Drift smile the happiest of the bunch.

“Excuse me? What makes these aliens even fit to raise a human child, our child Pal—”--Mom

“Their name is Buddy, Fleshy.”—Whirl and most of the bots

Magnus clears his throat getting everyone’s attention.

“To begin with, you two are charged with attempted kidnapping and aggravated assault of a minor.”—Magnus

The bots behind him eyes go wide.

The parents themselves go pale.

The police start cuffing the bio parents as they squawk in shock.

“What is the meaning of this!? Unhand us!”--Mom

“You have no right—”--Dad

“IF I may!”--Magnus

Magnus ‘clears his throat and intently stares at the parents with hatred in his holoforms eyes.

“You attempted and succeeded in breaking and entering the home where Buddy had been staying and attempted to take them to an unknown location against their will. They fought the both of you off sustaining injuries to both hands and you two fled the scene on foot back to your respected household to pretend that this ‘incident’ never happened the next day.”--Magnus

The bots behind him have a mixture of shock and anger on their faces.

Drift is glaring at the parents wanting nothing more than to punch them square in the jaw.

Ratchet is trying to look over at Buddy for any injury he could spot from where he was sitting.

Magnus looks at Buddy.

“Buddy, if you may show your hands.”--Magnus

Buddy reveals thick bandages on both arms and hands.

“I do believe that is enough evidence. The biological parents are set to a new court date to address these charges. The court once again recognizes Drift and Ratchet as Buddy’s legal guardians, court dismissed.”--Judge

With the swing of the gabble the parents are escorted out screaming and kicking, while Buddy is escorted to a different door.

Once the bots are outside, they can see Buddy running to them with arms wide open.

Drift and Ratchet open their arms as Buddy crashes right into them crying and wrapping their arms around them.

Drift is crying and ratchet is on the borderline of doing so too.

Ratchet carefully looks at Buddy’s wrapped hands.

“Those two good for nothings just wanted to get me back to get my income.”--Buddy

“We can add more charges to their case.”—Magnus

“We can jump them!”—Whirl

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“I think the grapefruit sized marks are enough for now.”--Buddy

Buddy pulls out a wrench from their pocket.

“Learned how to throw from the best.”—Buddy

Ratchet hugs them again as Drift joins in a second later.

The bots all head back to the Lost Light.

Ratchet and Drift never letting go of Buddy for an instant.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #mtmte x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #mtmte ratchet x platonic reader #mtmte drift #mtmte ratchet #mtmte drift x platonic reader

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thiccpersonality · 1 day

Text

The Realization

It's hard being the only human in a team full of meta-humans, aliens or straight up gods, but Bruce manages to get by...even if internally he's overly critical of the work he does, always comparing himself to others and telling himself to do better. But, he secretly counts his blessings one-by-one at how he has friends colleagues that reassure him everyday that he does so much-yes, even when he doesn't ask for it...Clark always tells him it's in his eyes, that's how he knows Bruce wants it.

Bruce finds that stupid though, the only thing in his eyes is exhaustion, and if not exhaustion, then anger; and if not anger, then it's probably a cocktail of self-loathing, self-hate and self-deprecation sprinkled with a healthy dose of "I wish I was dead."

Anyhow, Bruce counts his blessings secretly, even if it doesn't seem like he's doing so. And while it's hard being one of the only humans without a power in a group full of meta-humans or fully fledged super powered beings, he is grateful for the other aspects of power he has: his name, his face, his money, influence-and one of his actual favorites...when he's in a good mood-his body. Bruce isn't an idiot (Jason: "Not all the time anyway!"), he sees the way people eye him up and down, both men and women alike, he knows their thoughts towards him...or well, his body at least.

He has seen the way women eye his arms and pecs (Wally: "You mean, Batboobs®!? And doesn't everyone eye those?"), watches the way mens eyes glaze over when staring at his mile long legs.

Which brings us to how Bruce never truly feels small, not anymore at least. Even if he was of smaller height for a man (or in general) his position in life and as a hero/vigilante would make him feel and appear big to people. So, Bruce hasn't felt small in a very long time, he tends to not pay attention to things like height much-to reiterate: he never feels small because 1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?

The answer: no one.

So while Bruce has never had anyone say to his face that he's short, he's the World's Greatest Detective™ (Jason and Stephanie: "Ehhhh...occasionally.) and can see for himself the difference of him compared to everyone else.

Who is everyone else you ask? Well, it's the people he works with and-and Jason. It's kind of hard for Bruce to truly pay attention to height when he never pays attention to it in the first place or when he's usually in life-threatening situations to really care, in fact, he doesn't know why he is even obsessing over such a thing-'but you do know'-his mind replies. The thing Bruce hates most is that he does-he does know what kick-started this whole height thing, and it was his son; Jason.

XXX

It was any other normal day at Wayne Manor...if you count your son entering your top-secret cave injured as normal. Bruce had his mask off, his icy blue eyes analyzing the information on his computer unblinkingly, there's been an issue with abductions recently and he doesn't want to waste any time on finding out who is up to it, so Bruce has been working overtime (Alfred in a tired tone: "As usual...") trying to find out who it is.

Just as his brain is stringing something together, he hears the sound of a motorcycle outside the Cave, Bruce's brain immediately switches to finding out who it could be. He takes into account every person already inside the house, outside of it, what said people outside said they were doing until his brain very obviously deduces that it must be Jason. Hm? Should he heat some leftovers up for Jason? What is the other here for? Why is he even overthinking it? Jason is free to come over anytime he wants...

....

.....

......

But what if the reason is bad? Is Jason mad at him again? Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose from the sudden headache he gets from his mind panicking, the man just groans softly and turns around just in time to see Jason riding into the Cave, his eyebrow raising suspiciously at the lack of fancy tricks his son bothered not doing.

Bruce silently analyzes his son's body for any signs of distress, starting from his head, he immediately noticed the crack in the helmet and can feel his muscles tighten in worry before remembering he's trained his kids to fight and be able to receive hits as well. The thing that causes him to stand up though is the fact that Jason hasn't noticed him yet, and the way the young man is holding his side isn't helping to ease Bruce's racing mind.

"Jason, is everything alright?"

Hm? Was that too forward of him? Bruce knows his children, but he especially knows Jason and Damian hate being asked for signs of-what they deem as-weakness and injury (Damian sipping his tea: "Wonder where we learned that from, father?)

Jason finally looks up at Bruce, his tone sounding a bit slurred as he speaks, "Jus' fine, B. A little-" he grunts as he stumbles off his bike-"scratch never...hurt me." Okay, so it's more than a little scratch, Bruce catches Jason and can't control the immediate frown he makes when the boy doesn't bother fighting his hold. "What actually happened? It's not just a little scratch...you are clutching your side like you've been sh-" his breathing hitches at the words he almost uttered, w-was Jason actually-

"What? S-Shot? Why's it matter if-" Jason quiets down when Bruce's words finally process, his baby blue's widening under his mask at the small ways his dad is starting to panic from the thought-"No! I was jus' stabbed is all...no shots."

Bruce will get on himself later about how his body relaxed a bit more when finding out his child wasn't shot, I mean, what kind of father feels relieved that their kid was just stabbed? He knows-deep down-that it's his...ahem..."trauma response" to guns, but it sucks for him to realize he finds himself more at ease when people he knows are hurt in different ways that aren't a gun...he feels like a horrible person when it happens.

For now though, his main priority is his son who is losing blood, blood that Bruce is finally noticing on Jason's hand.

Bruce grunts as he brings his son closer to his body, feeling momentarily surprised when he lets out the sound from moving the younger. Since when did he ever grunt when moving his children? Another thing is, when did Jason get so heavy in the first place? When did his once small boy pack on so much muscle and-oh, God...please...when did Jason ever have to bend his knees when Bruce held him?

His body is on autopilot and he can feel himself moving to the medical table, but his eyes are busy staring at Jason's bent knees, his mind screaming at him that this must be a prank his son is pulling-oh! Or maybe Bruce is actually in an alternate universe where his child is bigger than him.

Bruce sucks in a deep breath when arriving at the table, gently lying his son down so he can get to work on stitching his boy up while also giving a (most likely) hypocritical lecture on how Jason should stay safe.

XXX

It was ever since that day that Bruce has been hyper fixated on his own height, along with the height of others. He hates how he's been sneaking in tests and making things awkward with his family because he chooses not to answer and instead rushes off to panic when realizing Jason is bigger than him.

It all happened as soon as Jason was patched up too, his mind recalls every stupid miniscule little detail, from Jason's clothes to the way his hair was messy from sleep and-the worst part-how he had to look up at the nineteen-year-old when the young man got close enough to him. Barefoot and all. The worst part is how Jason didn't even seem to notice it, and Bruce is NOT risking letting his son know, because then he will be picked on for being smaller than him and then his Bluejay will no doubt drag his siblings into this.

Not to mention how Bruce doesn't want to deal with a furious Damian who will demand that they, in his words, "stop disrespecting father before he slits their throats."

It has been a miserable couple months for him-and don't you judge him for keeping this obsession up for months! How is anyone-let alone a parent-supposed to process that they are shorter than their kid? Bruce holds back his frustrated tears at realizing his children are grown and growing, for goodness sakes, he had a meltdown just yesterday when it caught up to him that Richard is a fully grown man...he will never let anyone know about how he clutched onto old pictures of his eldest while crying.

And everyday Bruce is hoping and praying against Damian's growth...of course he doesn't want his son to be stunted in his puberty process...but if he decides to stay little forever then that is perfectly okay with him.

Besides panicking over his family's growth, which, yay for them...really, Bruce has been noticing-and I mean, TRULY noticing, his friends colleagues heights. There are certain people where it's just so noticeable, like J'onn for example, that guy is so huge that you are stupid if you don't notice it. Another hero is Big Barda, I mean, she's a seven foot tall woman...you would obviously notice that.

But there are just some people he noticed it with but it didn't bother him before (thank you Jason for kick-starting this!) And now Bruce is constantly comparing himself to the most closest of colleagues to one's he barely speaks to, it's insane how many files he's gone through just to look at heights. His two closest friends colleagues Diana and Clark are two people he didn't bother with height wise. It didn't matter since they made him feel small in different ways...I mean, you have the Amazonian princess with strength and skills that would put any living creature to shame and a Kryptonian that is more human than most humans, who truly has a heart of gold despite any negative views towards him.

And then there is Bruce: cold, stoic, a touch too sarcastic, jaded, cynical, a negative Nancy, a party pooper (Jason says that), no fun, emotionally stunted, anxious, depressed, stressed, old, washed up, unfunny-and the worst of all; short.

Bruce holds back his distressed noise as Wally West, AKA: Richard's best friend who has been over a million times, stands next to him with that ever bright smile of his and is animatedly talking, effectively ruining his depressing train of thought. When did he get so big? So...grown? He takes in the maturity of his once soft face, the man is still cute no doubt, but he isn't that same round faced boy who bothered him about Alfred's cookies. Okay, okay, maybe he still is that same kid...just older looking and taller now.

"-and that's why I'll need that penthouse full of Agent A's cookies."

Bruce blinks away the sudden wetness in his eyes and looks down (ha!) at The Flash confused, though to the normal eye he looks the same old disinterested as usual. "You need a penthouse? What happened to that modest apartment you got?" Wally blinks in shock behind his mask before giving a toothy smile, "Is that what your mind got from that? I was joking about the penthouse...though Agent A's cookies would still be much appreciated."

The ginger shifts in place nervously at the way Batman is staring at him, did he do something wrong? The only thing that somewhat assures Wally that things are okay is the fact that Bruce gives a grunt of agreement before walking off.

He can't take this anymore! If Bruce stays around Wally any longer he's afraid he'll start crying in front of the kid. Instead, he'll just head to the cafeteria and drown his sorrows in today's dessert. Bruce walks in and sees that Diana is already in line, holding back his grumble as he stands next to the woman and internally mourns the fact his head only reaches her shoulder. "Good morning, my friend! It's a lovely day in space is it not?"

Bruce grunts and doesn't bother looking up at Diana, "It's the same view we see everyday we come up to the Watchtower."

The Amazonian just smiles brighter, warmth radiating from her mood. "Though we see it everyday it doesn't make it any less gorgeous up here." Bitterness. Bruce's heart is filled with bitterness at the words "up" and "here" , is-is Diana teasing him? Did she somehow find out about his fixation and is now subtly letting him know that she knows?

The feeling of warmth, like that from the sun, at his right side causes Bruce to automatically look up at the person standing so close to him. His icy blue eyes only widen under his mask at fully tilting his head back to look up at Clark, he feels like sobbing when realizing his head only comes to Clark's chest, why is the man even taller than Diana!?

"Good morning Bruce, Diana. Lovely morning up here, is it not?"

There's that stupid word again! And is it really a good morning when he's been suffering for so long? Bruce frowns at the gentle nudge at his side and Diana's jovial tone, "Told you the view is still beautiful." At Clark's questioning look Diana just smiles more, "Our friend here just is being a sourpuss today. He's grumpy about how I said the view is nice, he just replied about how we see it everyday."

Clark just smiles and looks down at Bruce, his smile turning amused when his friend doesn't move up the line. "Are you just going to stare at me all morning or will you move down the line?"

A scoff is all Bruce can give, not noticing the concerned looks shared over his head as he focuses on piling his food tray with dessert. The concern isn't necessarily from Bruce eating sweets, Diana and Clark both know how much their friend actually has a sweet tooth, the issue is coming from the fact he is willingly eating sweets in front of others on top of the amount it is. Clark just frowns worriedly and sits actual food on his plate while mouthing to Diana about what's wrong with Bruce.

In return, the princess just shakes her head and looks back down at Bruce, choosing to speak up. "You know, it's been awhile since we've eaten alone, just the three of us. Why don't we head to one of our rooms or something?" What she actually means by that is: "let's get Bruce alone so we can figure out what's wrong with him."

The two super powered heroes find themselves even more putoff at Bruce's distracted grunt...it is rare he pulls that one out, usually his grunts have some level of awareness to them, but this one is telling them that he's not actually paying attention. Which is cause for alarm in and of itself. Plus, Clark and Diana have been getting calls from Bruce's family, they are worried about how he's been acting as of late. They report Bruce is running off on them whenever they ask him what's wrong...which actually isn't out of character for Bruce, but if the Batfamily are saying it's different than usual, then it's different than usual.

The two taller heroes lead the shorter to his room, punching his code in before the door opens and they watch as Bruce automatically walks over to his bed and sits on it, shoving a cookie in his mouth and causing Clark to signal to Diana in confirmation that something is wrong.

They use their friend's distracted state to quietly talk about it while joining him in the room, "What's going on with him?" Diana raises her brow as she asks, tilting her head up and to the side so Clark can whisper in her ear. "I don't know for sure...but his lip is jutting out into a micro-pout. I quickly scanned him to see if he was hiding injuries, and while he's not, his muscles are tense as if he's holding back something."

Diana softly ah's and sets her tray down on Bruce's desk, the noise causing the man to look up at them finally. His eyebrows raising when noticing he's in his room, "Why didn't we just eat in the cafeteria?" Bruce holds back his fidgeting at the look the taller two heroes share.

Clark clears his throat, "We were going to originally...but we noticed you were acting off and suggested eating in one of our rooms as a test-"

Diana, being one to never hold back, gets to the point. "A test you failed, Bruce. To be honest, you've been acting off enough to worry your family into calling us to step in. So, can you please tell us what's going on?" Bruce feels genuine embarrassment that this is where his fixation has gotten him, he's too flustered to admit that his issue is the fact he's begun to notice people are bigger than him, I mean, what kind of issue is that?

At Bruce's silence Clark steps forward slightly, his voice patient and gentle when he speaks.

"We are your friends, B. Heck, you even feel like family. And family is there for each other just like me and Di are here for you. Jason has been feeling particularly bad lately...he says he didn't know what he did this time to make you so upset with him, you keep staring him down angrily only to storm off when he looks back at you."

Bruce feels angry with himself for letting such a stupid non-issue get this far. His looks of "anger" weren't anger towards Jason at all, he knows when he thinks hard about stuff he can sometimes look mean apparently, but he was never upset with his Jaylad...the distress was just showing on his face and Bruce most likely masked it with the first emotion that came to mind, one that's easiest for him to express or replicate; anger or irritation.

Bruce hates the involuntary distressed sound that escapes his crumb covered lips, however, for the sake of his family and ending this stupid misunderstanding, he chooses to be...honest (Batfamily: *collectively gasping*)

"Jason...he's bigger than me-" Bruce keeps the Batman mask on so he won't be too vulnerable, his hands tightening on the metal tray from the thought-"For months I have been noticing the sudden growth of my children and I...I didn't know what to do with that information. Did you know that Jason has to crouch when I hold him now? Since when did he need to do that?" At this point of his ranting, Bruce is out of bed and pacing across the room while his friends patiently listen.

"And then it hit me one day that Richard is truly a man now. Maybe that's why we got into so many fights before? I never truly realized that he didn't need my help like before-" Bruce pauses in the middle of the room and clenches his cape in his fists-"He is so much taller now and shining brighter than the little boy I picked up. Timmy is even starting to grow a bit more...which, I don't know if I should be upset or pleased that he's finally growing, that boy scares me sometimes with how small he was."

Bruce's hands instinctively reach up to run his fingers through his hair and he huffs at the mask being in the way, choosing to hide his hands underneath his cape instead.

"Wally is even so big now, did you know that? I remember the young boy with that fat freckled face pestering me about Alfred's cookies...and now that boy has the audacity to get big on me, I think I hate realizing that Dickie-bird is actually taller than his friend now, it's only by one or two inches-but still!" Bruce starts pacing again, his nerves building up once more and telling him to move.

"And don't get me started on Damian. I feel I constantly am trying to sabotage his growth...I never got to see him as a baby and so I hope he stays that small, chubby faced little boy I've come to know. I feel horrible for wishing against his growth, but I want to make his childhood as enjoyable as possible, did you know he didn't even know what movies were when he came here? He was deprived of fun and he can't grow too quickly now or fun childhood memories can't be made."

Bruce stops to finally stare at Diana and Clark, pointing accusingly at them.

"And then you two! I noticed it before, but it was never something of interest to me. I didn't need to pay attention to your heights when I feel small in other ways with you two...you-" Bruce grunts at Clark gently slamming into him and hugging him, the man sounding a mix of fond, touched, baffled and sad. "You don't need to feel small with us. I for one think you are bigger than any of us in many different ways...I mean, you just admitted to having a crisis at realizing your family grew."

Diana joins in on the hug with a soft chuckle, "I'm just surprised you didn't notice our height difference sooner. Clark and I always talked about how cute it is to pick you up, your our tiny human."

The woman just smiles more when Clark nudges her side in warning for her playful words, "But in all seriousness. This has to be the cutest moment we've seen from you ever, instead of a midlife crisis you are having a parental crisis-" Diana cackles again when Clark pokes her side again-"What? I am being serious. But also, this just shows how much you care...and I think it's only normal to feel this way when you never expected to have a family of your own in the first place."

Bruce's breath hitches at the gentleness in which Diana speaks the last part, his eyes prickling with tears at realizing deep down she's right. Ever since he took in Richard he was always amazed and scared at having a family, and no matter how much he's tried to deny it in his worst moments, that's what Richard became ever since he thought of taking him in. Bruce never expected a family, which is why he tries so hard to deny it...and I guess after years of taking care of children it's finally caught up to him that his family-more specifically, his children (because that's who they are) have grown into functioning adults.

He never thought he would want a family after losing his in that alleyway, but if anyone were to take down his defenses...of course it'd be a child.

Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak. He can't help but chuckle at the incredulous look Bruce gives him for wanting to cry as well.

"You can cry, Bruce. What are friends for?"

Bruce feels his face grow red, his body loosening in Clark and Diana's hold as months of tension leaves his being through his tears, choosing to hide his face in his friends strong bodies. He hates crying and how good it makes him feel afterwards, he doesn't think he deserves that feeling most days, but for now, it's okay. Bruce also can't help the eye roll at hearing Clark sniffle as well, he's such a crybaby. Diana just smirks at her two boys, carding her long, elegant fingers through Bruce's hair, the two taller heroes paying close attention to Bruce as he shifts in their hold and speaks up. Voice slightly muffled.

"Never speak about this to anyone."

Diana and Clark share a look before silently coming into agreement and lifting Bruce off his feet, reveling in his annoyed protests with laughter.

"We wouldn't dare."

("1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?" Does the second option imply or mean Bruce is short or is it just a scenario? You decide! I constantly switch between Bruce being a genuine short king and him just being around people that make him feel freaking short 😂.

"Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak." <-(Damian and Jason sipping on their tea: "Seems we found that answer to who we learned that from. 😌")

Also, I am so sorry this story got so long! I didn't mean to 😭. This idea has been in my head, and I usually forget my ideas...but this time I actually wanted to remember lol. This is also kind of based off of the one day I was hugging my baby brother and realized I actually had to look up at him...he's only 14 (while writing this I also just remembered he's 14 😭😭😭), I went back into my room and literally just sat there reminiscing on my bed about when he was brought home from the hospital to all the good times we had together and even things I wish I did different with him growing up 😂.

Also, also, I apologize for the constant whiplash from some semblance of humor (or something), to slightly crack-ish (I think so at least) writing to things getting deep and emotional. I was feeling fickle with the vibe of this story I guess, so I said: "why not everything?" 😂😂😂

This is getting even longer cause I like talking too much in notes lol, so I'm going to leave with a thank you! Anyone and everyone who bothers to read this long mess is very much appreciated!

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

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insanescriptist · 3 days

Text

Cremation is just another fun(erl) service

So blaming random 4am thoughts that have been plaguing me all day for this

----

Jason woke to a bright room, thin sheets and the smell of a hospital embedded in his body.

First as always, assess. Hospital. No affiliation printed on the walls or anywhere. Private room, but small. That door looked like it led to a private bathroom. Generic flower picture, a mounted screen turned off. Really fucking bright sunlight from the windows.

There was no fucking way he was in Gotham then. Everything was too nice. Normal by standards outside of Gotham. There were blinds, not metal shutters. The walls were cleaner than Gotham allowed outside of Downtown and he could see greenery through the window.

Okay. So what had he been doing? Jason remembered and then wished he had his Jerichos to shoot himself with. Mystic Shit™. Okay. Okay. That was not one of his better ideas, but if he's recovering in a hospital, it worked. World saved.

So recovery. How fucked was he?

His skin looked so fucked. Which meant he had been worse. He's had time to recover and lose muscle tone in, going by how twiggy his arms were. His hands looked good. Clearly someone knew he cared about those if they went through the effort of restoring those.

Hmm, that was odd. No matter how much Jason hated the Lazarus Pits and all its by-products, it would have been a faster and more simple way to recover from near-death than the long incarceration in a hospital for a John Doe.

Jason wasn't sure if he'd been abandoned yet again by those who called themselves his family because he could, "take care of himself," or if he had been written off dead. Again.

Hospital beat the coffin by a long shot.

And it was with that cheery thought, a nurse -obvious meta human nurse- came in and burst into excited Japanese, because that was of course, his luck.

It's after the nurse and doctors leave that Jason loses his shit.

It looks like he's sulking in bed, but mentally everything in his head is exploding. Imploding.

Three. Fucking. Years. Coma.

Burn victim so bad they not only expected him to die in the first couple of days, but still expect it because of the infection risk his fucked up skin represents.

Still the conversation with the medical staff -of varying degrees of bizarre- was enlightening.

No, he has no idea who he is. Did he ever get anyone visit? How did he get here?

Of course some amnesia is to be expected. No, some of the nurses visited. No one knows how he got here.

Does he know what his quirk is? Uh?

Trauma blocked amnesia, the doctor mutters.

What's the last date he remembered?

Saturday. Maybe? The last year? No, I'm pretty sure my memory is shit and I'm trying hard not to freak out over not knowing anything. So could I get the year number?

And then there's the fucking year number. Once he got it translated into more normal terms.

Mystic Shit™ said fuck you to the future.

Except Jason knows this is not his future. Again, if it was, this would have been treated as a fucking inconvenience. Effective skin restoration goop -the proper name escaped him- was easily available to those with the right connections. A normal baseline human with 2nd and 3rd degree burns would be fine in less than two weeks with it, with nary a trace to show for it.

Thanks to the three year coma, his muscles were all atrophied as fuck, despite their best attempts at physical therapy. Because of all the burns and later burn scars and infections making it basically impossible to actually do fuck all about maintaining muscle tone until he was basically burnt skin and bones anyway.

He was so fucking weak now. It wouldn't last forever. He'd escape this hospital before he was discharged, before whatever "benefactor" showed up for whatever "purpose," he was suppose to serve now, as they had the medical debt over his head or was threatening his loved ones or whatever. If one didn't show up in the next week, he was losing his genre-savviness, because shitheads always wanted to claim shit, if it looked useful.

And Jason was used to looking useful, until he was no longer useful and they just didn't care. The amnesia made him less shiny, but Jason couldn't pull off the brain dead zombie imitation without actually being a brain dead zombie crawling up out of his grave.

So under the thin hospital sheets, Jason twitched his muscles.

Two weeks of emotional freak outs, watching the news, physical therapy and drugs Jason had had enough.

And he broke out.

----

Yeah, he regretted it almost immediately. Hard not to in the stupid paper gown, barefoot and bare ass.

Thankfully people were people, even with the plethora of meta humans he had seen, so it actually wasn't hard to find clothes. Someone left a hoodie in their car and Jason broke into said car. Put on the hoodie. Hotwired the car and drove off.

Somehow for being in the fucking future by two centuries and change, cars really hadn't changed. More evidence of Mystic Shit™ slamming him sideways.

He drove to the next town over, picked another direction, drove some more. Parked the car near what looked like a chop shop, negotiated the car for some money. He probably got ripped off, but better than nothing.

He walked to a corner store, bought some flip-flops after bullshitting an excuse that his had broken. First aid stuff. You know, for his feet. Hair dye in three different colors, because Rose Wilson could pick out a bad dye job at a hundred meters and so Jason learned how to dye his own hair properly so as to avoid her mockery, only to get mockery (affectionate) anyway.

It was a mix of instinct and lifelong observation that let him find an empty apartment quickly. He stole some sweatpants and passed out on the bed.

----

The thing is, Jason doesn't regret his crimes like Bruce thinks he ought to do, with a massive pity party and flaming self-hatred and punching criminals instead of shooting them. He hates the necessity of doing crimes, even if that crime is a net gain to society, but that's why all his serious crimes are premeditated. He's homicidal, not a psychopath.

Not Pit-mad either, no matter what the rest of them might have thought.

Again, he's homicidal, not a psychopath. And when he doesn't have to be some sort of costume soldier to be discarded by family for the disgrace of disfiguring the memory of a dead boy? He's actually chill and boring.

That is to say, he crashed at that apartment for three days, felt progressively more like himself, especially after the dye job -white hair all over, now a solid and boring black- but it still didn't change all the other issues the Mystic Shit™ inflicted on him.

This body isn't actually his. Too young, scars not right where the burns didn't fuck him over. Thankfully his existing coping mechanisms for dysphoria work and it's shoved to the side.

It's also a shit body. Not even a month out of a three year coma with inadequate -by his standards- of medical care. It's weak and building muscle to do everyday civilian shit, is going to take months to do. Pushing as hard as he did during the escape wrecked him the next three days. Jason may not know what's going to happen, but with his luck, it's going to suck and training is preparing to make it suck less. The only certainty he's got is that his skin or lack thereof is going to kill him from infection if he doesn't fix it.

He's got no legal identity here. Which basically puts him back onto familiar ground of legally dead.

Beyond the lack of paperwork, he's got a lack of funds. He also has no easy target to steal funds and equipment from, even just for fun.

For more disadvantages, he's in a different country, with different laws and a whole different culture. He would be climbing on board a fucking plane to Gotham, if it existed in this world, for some familiar ground.

He really is the unluckiest Robin. It also means he is also the most prepared Robin.

---

The first six months after waking up in this mockery world of heroics were the absolute worst.

He started at one foot in the grave and crawled out of it before the casket could really eat him alive. Jason had experience in casket busting. He didn't wanna repeat it.

He still didn't know who he was -in who was he inhabiting- but it wasn't like Jason had a lot to go on. 'His' quirk was thermo-manipulation, most obviously in the blue fire he could call to his hands but he could do some ice too; it was thanks to Duke's light and shadow manipulation that he had even tried for the duality. He had white hair. Presumably Japanese heritage but quirks had really erased or blurred a lot of racial lines. Also presumed dead and young.

Access to the Quirk Registry took some doing, but again, not everyone followed basic computer security, much less what it took to keep someone bat-trained out of their systems. Again, for nearly two centuries in the future, a lot of the technological development had stagnated. Searching through the Quirk Registry hadn't yielded any result but none of his other methods had struck anything either. And he had looked at the recently dead and/or presumed dead. Sure, he had some leads that looked viable, but he wasn't going to follow those up yet.

He had fixed a few of his most pressing issues the past six months. His ignorance of the local area, the local and national politics and so on. This world supported and had an entire industry catering to making child soldiers and sell their image and reputation to make money and more child soldiers that called themselves Heroes.

His weak ass body no long cried doing daily tasks and only hated him after working out. Yes, Jason was pushing it but he was well aware of how months of preparation could mean shit in the face of seconds.

His infection risk was severely reduced after quick research bender let him make the most generic knock-off brand of the skin restoration goop in a shitty homemade lab. Did it fix his skin being patchwork fucked in places? Some. He wasn't going to get feeling back properly, but at least he looked more normal. Maybe with enough moisturizing he might look a little less Frankenstien's monster.

He also had a cash inflow. It wasn't great, but it supported his apartment. And the second set of papers. And the 2nd apartment.

Which meant in grand old tradition for Jason, time for him to bounce to the next apartment and come up with a new name.

#time for Izzy to slep #Izzy does fic #jason todd #dabi

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penkura · 23 hours

Note

Hey there my lovely penguin lover,

I hope you will like my idea. I would love to see a scenario where penguin has a fever or something like that and y/n takes care of him. And maybe he has a fever dream and is confessing his feelings for y/n and because he is delulu in this moment maybe he thinks its a dream and kiss her or something like that and the next day he doesnt remember anything anymore. Y/n is flustered af and shachi (maybe the Rest of the crew) is teasing him because they knew that he might done something.

Does this make any sense? Anyway i hope you will like this idea. Many love to you and twke care of yourself.

Omggg hiiii fellow Penguin lover, your fics make me so happy to see them omg.

I loved this request sm, but I had to break it into two parts! I didn't want it to be too long and wanted to make sure I hit everything, but here's part one! I'll have part two posted soon and tag you in it of course!! :)

Normally you wouldn’t mind being left behind while the rest of your crew took off to visit and scope out the most recent island you’ve surfaced it, your captain Law giving you all a reprieve to have a small break and stretch your legs. You’d go into town with Ikkaku, or Shachi and Penguin, sometimes Bepo, and start to find where you could restock anything that was needed, before reporting to Law and him letting you go do as you pleased. Ikkaku was likely to drag you into all the stores to find new clothes and the like, Penguin would always look out for a bookstore to take you to, and Shachi and Bepo would find a place for all of you to have a meal together before you returned to the Polar Tang. That’s under normal circumstances though.

Today, you’d rather be out and in the sun, but you’ve been enlisted to take care of the bedridden Penguin. He’d suddenly come down with a fever the day before, your captain believing it to be stress, it didn’t seem to be viral or anything like that. Penguin had likely overworked himself, something he’d become prone to doing lately for some reason, you’ve even told him to relax numerous times, somethings could wait until a bit later to be done, but he’d quickly brush you off with a smile and run off to whatever was next.

“What a sorry state you’ve gotten yourself into, Penguin,” you hum while watching him, a damp washcloth covering from his forehead down over his eyes while he tried to breathe easily, “I told you all of that stuff could wait, or I could’ve helped you…”

Penguin has been out of it for hours now. He’s woken up a few times, almost in delusion from his fever, once thinking he was in the ocean outside the submarine and another time believing there were aliens hiding in the ship. Law tried to keep him asleep longer with a light sedative, that was before the alien dream that woke him in complete terror. He only calmed down enough to go back to bed when you started talking to him, promising him everything was fine, and he let you walk him back to his bed. Law requested you stay behind today, it seemed like Penguin was only going to stay calm with you around, but he’d send Shachi or Ikkaku back later to give you a break.

Now, he’s been completely calm and sleeping the last couple of hours, it makes you happy to see him finally relaxing. You do wonder how on earth it was only you who could calm him down, not even Shachi was able to convince him to lay back down after the second fever dream. Your red-haired friend snickered a bit, saying something along the lines of “as if you don’t know”, but you really don’t, you’re still confused by it. Ikkaku had wished you good luck when she left, a smile on her face that told her she was thinking about your crush on Penguin, and how you now had alone time with him, even though he’s sick in bed.

You flip through a magazine Ikkaku let you borrow for a few minutes, before you hear Penguin start to stir, moving to take the washcloth of his face before you move to stop it.

“Hey, wait, you still need that, Penguin,” grabbing his hand to stop him, you realize the washcloth isn’t cool anymore, he must be warming up again, “Let me get this wet again, lay back down.”

Penguin barely recognizes that its you taking care of him, his fever is making everything foggy in his head, its like he’s not really there. But he believes he must be dreaming again, there’s no way you, who he’s been absolutely enthralled and in love with the last three years, was taking care of him. Its another fever dream, right? Right, it must be Ikkaku taking care of him this time, the fever is just making him think it’s you. He sits up and tries to focus on your back, still convinced it’s just Ikkaku taking care of him, and just starts talking.

“Hey…Ikka…you think she’ll…hate me?”

“What’re you talking about? Who would hate you?”

“[Y/N]…will she hate me?”

Once you have the washcloth wet again, you bring it over to Penguin and start pressing it against his forehead, tilting your head in confusion in the process.

“Why would I—she hate you?”

“Cause I…I love her so much…but haven’t told her…”

Stopping, your face feels flush, and your heart picks up, not having expected that from Penguin. Ikkaku has never told you that Penguin has feelings for you, let alone that he’s in love with you. She’s never giving you even a hint that he might like you back, even with you constantly swooning over him secretly. She seemed to have a smile every time you did, always telling you to just go down the hall and tell him, it had been four years for heaven’s sake, its about time some kind of romance happened on this submarine!

“I…what?”

“You’re a girl…how do I tell her?”

At least he can’t tell that it’s actually you he’s talking to, the fever is really doing its work on him. He really thinks he’s talking to Ikkaku, you wonder how many times they’ve gone back and forth about this, if he’s asking about it now.

“Just,” you take a deep breath and try to make him lay down, but he’s still much stronger than you even bedridden with a high fever, he doesn’t budge, “Just tell her, Penguin…I’m sure it’ll go well.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know!” Penguin relents just a bit and leans back a little when you push him, but he still stares you with those half-lidded blue eyes, its so hard for him to make out that it’s you still. “Just…tell her! Go up to her and say, ‘I love you’ and see what happens!”

He quiets, looking like he might be thinking even though he really should be laying down, before nodding and speaking again, like he’s practicing and has done so with Ikkaku multiple times. He has, you just don’t know right now, Ikkaku tells you this later down the line when you bring this day up to her.

“Okay…[Y/N]…?”

“Y-Yeah, Penguin?” you swallow, still wondering if this is actually happening or if you’re having a fever dream now. It can’t be real; it just can’t be. There’s no way Penguin loves you back, just no way.

“I…” His fever is hitting him again, he really should be laying down, but he doesn’t realize he’s doing this, “I…love you, [Y/N].”

You think he’s passing out when he starts to lean towards you but realize he’s not when he quickly kisses you, being actually passing out and his forehead hits your shoulder. He’s still burning up, from the fever or embarrassment you’re not sure, but now that he’s back asleep, you’re able to push him back to laying down again. Placing the washcloth back on his forehead, you don’t stay in the room and instead leave, quietly closing the door behind you while your face burns out of your own embarrassment and you finally take a real breath again.

That didn’t just happen. That DIDN’T just happen. He’s delusional because of the fever, right. Of course he is, he thought we were being invaded earlier. He didn’t know what he was doing.

“Hey, [Y/N], you go—”

You scream when Shachi places a hand on your shoulder and tries to ask what’s going on, making him scream too because you scared him just as badly as he scared you.

“What’d you scream for?!”

“You scared me!!”

“Well why were you so lost in your head?!”

“Because--!” You cut yourself off because you don’t really want to tell Shachi what happened, even when he gives you a concerned look before you start running towards your and Ikkaku’s room. “Nothing happened! I’m going to my room!!”

Shachi tries to stop you, but you’re gone too quickly. Now he’s starting to think you have a fever that’s making you crazy too, before he goes into the room Penguin’s been resting in and hears him mumbling something in his sleep about you. Most of the crew knows about Penguin’s crush on you, making Shachi wonder if his best friend’s fever induced state made him do something he shouldn’t have, or wasn’t really ready to.

“What the hell did you do, Pen?”

#one piece x reader #reader insert #penguin x reader #op penguin x reader #fem!reader

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