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lady-ashfade · 6 months

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Mha Men Reactions To You Thinking That Asking You Out Is A Joke.

—£ X Gn Reader

—£ Plot: Reader has been bullied and thinks that this is just another prank, they have been asked out before as a joke.

—£ Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki

—£ Warning: Angst To Comfort, Reader Being Insecure, Reader being bullied, Reader Making The Boys Feel Bad, Crying, Bad Language, Fighting, Happy Ending.

Izuku

-He was so confused at first, then in disbelief and angry.

Izuku had worked himself up for mouths to finally ask you out. He’s been hinting at how he feels for you but you never seem to notice. All he could do each day was think about you, how he wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss you. He wanted to show you the world and all it could be.

So, he waited till you both got off of patrol and chased after you.

Hearing your name you turn around to see the green haired man running after you like a crazy man, flying so fast with a red tint on his face. Then to stop and huff in front of you, he laughed nervously.

“Deku? You okay…” you question and tilt your head. He couldn’t get enough of how cute you looked.

“Hmm, just want to tell you something.” He smiled and said it like a known fact. You wait for him to say something while you stand still, just waiting….Until he was just staring at you in silence.

You wave your hands in front of his face and he turned the shade of a tomato for a minute while jumping out of his skin. You were confused, he was acting strange? He hasn’t been this nervous in a while.

“Okay- Well” he takes a deep breath and then pours his heart out in a shout, “I like you- A lot. I have since you first showed me your quirk and flashed that smile. So, I want to ask you out on a date?”

Izuku came up with many scenarios of what could happen when he confessed. Like you laughing at him, rejecting him easily or harshly, even if you hit him! He planned for everything…

Expect to see you glare harshly at him, one that sent a chill down his spin. Your body tensed and your hands gripped on your bag.

“Real fuckin’ funny, deku. What? Did Bakugo set you up to this?” You spit at him. “Never thought you’d be the person to do this, is this for a prank show?” Your chest lets out a deep and angry chuckle.

He stared at you with his face drained and eyes staring wide. Was this his imagination? What are you even talking about. Did he say something wrong, he’s never seen you like this before. Cold and mean.

“Nothing to say?” You click your tongue and huff. “This isn’t a funny joke! It’s-” he watches you tear up and push a finger in his chest, “It’s cruel.”

“What the hell are you taking about?” He has no idea how much your words affect him. His chest was filling up with anger and his brows frown.

“Don’t act like you actually like me! You aren’t the first person to ask me out on a date as a prank! Or hell, even a bet!” You cross your arms and flare your nostrils.

Oh..

His eyes soften and swallow at your now trembling figure, looking so small now and shaking. Like he was a villain to make you feel worthless.

“You think I’m joking?” His hushed tone made you blink away some of the tears and whip them off quickly, nodding your head you bite your lip.

“You can tell whoever that you got me! Get your points or win, I don’t care.” You fix yourself and looked at the ground. You move backwards and turn around to walk away from him.

Izuku watched for a few seconds until he knew he couldn’t have you thinking this was for anyone else but himself. Grabbing your arm he turned you around and into his chest, coming face to face with his.

He had his serious and frustrated face, when he gets passionate. “I want you, I need you in my life. I don’t know who before made you feel like you were just a joke, but they don’t deserve anything. I want a date, a real one with fancy clothes and food.”

Your wide eyes stare in his, looking surprised. Your bodies were so close and he held you so tightly, his body was warm. “Just you and me.” He’s eyes flashed panicked as he looked between your eyes.

He heard your breath hitch and how hesitant you were to trust him. He wanted to know the battle you fought inside your head inside and out, so he could defeat them for you.

“Promise?” That small sparkle of hope made him smile.

“Promise.”

Katsuki

- He’s pissed off, man has no clue what the hell you are talking about. And how you could think he’d do something so stupid?

We all know Katsuki never half asses anything, like anything. If he didn’t want you around you simply wouldn’t. So when Katsuki knew for sure he was ready to be in a relationship, he wasn’t going to let it be half asses. You were going to be his, he would give you everything.

So, he asked you plain out. Invite you out to a restaurant and to walk around your favorite part of the city. He enjoyed how talkative you got when you were happy, so this would be just right for you.

Then you flat out yelled and him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Being so confused his loud voice rang through the empty park.

You roll your eyes, “You don’t think I know when a trick is played on me?” You ask with a pointed glare. “Look, you aren’t the first.”

Trick? You think he’s joke about this shit?

“Huh?! You think I’d take the time out of my day, but your ass food and do your favorite thing- Just to prank you?” He shouted.

“Don’t flip this on me! I know this is just a joke, ask out the “weird” person right? They must be so easy? Is that it? Want to seem so much better then everyone.”

Then he was completely enraged. He couldn’t help the blood pumping through his body as he gripped his fists.

“How fuckin’ dare you.” He stepped closer. “You think that low of me?” You matched his glare and stood your ground.

“I didn’t think you were the person to do it. But here you are.”

“Oh?” His tone growled out and tilted his head. His dark smirk sent chills down your spine. “And who are you to tell me what I feel like?”

You felt your self becoming sick and you tried not to let it get to you. But this wasn’t how you thought your relationship would go, him turning out like everyone else.

“I know that everyone always likes to pull this shit on me! Ask me out, not show or laugh in my face! Who set you up to this Huh?”

Clicking his tongue he turned away from you, “You’re so stupid.”

“No. I am just know when I am being tricked.” He looked back at you with a daring smile.

“Oh yeah?” He laughed and crosses his arms like this was so funny. Making you break.

“This isn’t a joke! And it’s not funny.” You stomp your foot and started to get so overwhelmed and tear up. How could he be so cruel? Why does everyone do this.

He yanked your hands and pushed you to the nearest bench, you protested and squirmed but he was stronger then you. “Sit still!” He demanded as his hands pressed down on your shoulders.

You sink down and just do as he says to make this situation go faster. “You listen, got it?” He stared at you seriously. You take a minute and nod your head, his sigh made you sink farther down.

“This wasn’t a joke. I first noticed how beautiful you were when you feel asleep on my shoulder after training. I like when your cheeks puff out when you eat, or that crinkle in your nose. I like how you look around if anyone notices when you fail in training. I like it when you call me “Suki” and how it makes me feel.” His cheeks heated up at admitting theses things but it was all true.

“I wouldn’t ask you out as a joke, and you thinking that is fucked up. I don’t deal with stupid people. Tell me,” he pulled out his phone and clicked around a few and then shoved the bright screen in your face. A picture of you asleep on his shoulder with drool on his shoulder and him looking so calm. “Would I let anyone do that? No, only you.”

You could feel your heart beat up and lungs losing air. Your head ran with thoughts as you looked at him. He was serious? And you just said all those horrible things to him.

“You mean- You actually like me?” Your voice and question made him laugh and shove his phone back in his pocket.

“Maybe I do hang out with stupid people.” Okay, you deserve that honestly.

You take a breath and cover your face. “Shit.” You groan and lean back without looking at him. How could you look at him again, maybe you just wouldn’t for the rest of your life.

“M’sorry.” The word muffled in your hands and he looked down at you. He loves how embarrassed you looked, hiding your face from him. But he didn’t want you to overthink anything.

His hands wrap around your wrist and pull them away from your face. You didn’t look at him at all still but he just leaned down closer, “Look at me.” His demand was soft and quiet, so unlike him. When he found your eyes again he felt himself at ease.

“I’ll bellow up those fuckers that pulled that shit on you. I don’t have time to play games. So, go on a date with me and have a good time.” There was that voice again. His loud voice to cover his emotions.

“If you’ll have me.” Your eyes looked so soft and sad. Like he would still rejected you.

“Be waiting for you. And i wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Kirishima

- Completely taken aback. He was frozen and confused, then sad and angry. His heart was broken.

Kirishima was a man, and a good man. He kicked himself for months because he wanted to ask you out but didn’t want to ruin anything. You were just so sweet and beautiful, his heart flattered when he saw you smile.

Of course he wanted to ask you out! So, he worked up himself like izuku and made sure to be on top of his game. He would style his hair, clean up after a long day and check himself out in the mirror. He had to look best for you, like a man!

He waited until you got done with your work and headed home to ask you for a date. He was waiting for you by the door with a huge but nervous smile. His chest was filling up with butterflies,

“Y/n! Over here.” He waves you down. You looked at him and smile as you march towards him. Your regular clothes looking amazing on you, he could tell the day was rough for you but you still looked as beautiful as aways.

“Hello, good work today kiri!” Your praise made him blush harder and scratch his neck. His ego growing. “Need to teach me some of your moves.”

Okay, he needs to cool himself down. You are just too cute and pretty, he finally had you alone and ready to ask you out.

“Actually, um.” He looked at you with a wide mouth before clearing his throat. “I was going to get some food, maybe I can tell you there?”

You thought about it for a minute. You have gotten food before with him so it’s not weird. So you nod. “Sure!”

“Actually, I had something else planned.” You watch him blink, he watches you tilt your head. “I wanted to ask out on a date. Right now, to any restaurant you want of course.”

Your body tenses and hand comes to clinch your chest, looking around for the hidden camera. His smile seemed real but you knew the truth, this was a cruel prank.

“Not funny kiri.” Your voice sounded different as you got angry. You turn your head and cross your arms, “Think this is funny? What kind of a friend are you!” You shout making him sink back.

He was now frozen with his face white and smile gone. He stared at you confused and unknowing what to say.

“I’m sorry..But, what are you talking about?” You only huff at his words and puff your cheeks and chest out.

“Don’t play dumb! I know what this is,” you turn around and look for someone, “He got me! Really funny.”

Kiri stepped closer and looked to where you looked, “Y/n, it’s just you and me here.”

“Oh, so you just wanted to see for yourself what i would do? Because asking me out is so fucking funny. Well,” you hit his chest. “It’s not!”

Your words and hands feel like knives. You have never seemed so loud and broken before or yelled at him before. He wanted to tear up with you.

“I don’t think it’s funny, what are you talking about?” His hands covered the yours that rested on his chest. “Did I say something wrong?”

You tear up fully and start to cry, “I know kiri, no use of hiding it. I know this is just some stupid prank to get me to feel bad about myself and you won! Just like all the others.” You try to pull away from him but his body moves on its own and keeps you from moving.

His blood starts to rise and his teeth start to show. You think this is a prank, that he was just doing this to make you cry? And what others? Oh, this was making him pissed.

“Who did it? I’ll talk to them, that’s so unmanly! Hurting someone like that?” He leans down to you, “Let alone you…that’s the most cruel thing I have heard.”

You blink up at him, your arms struggling to pull back come to a stop. “What do you mean? You did it to.” Your voice broke and didn’t sound as angry but disappointed.

“I would never. I’m not joking y/n, I want to take you out on a date. Even more now to show you that you can be loved, like I do! Please give me a chance, you are the only person I think about!” He backs away from you and bows his head to plead.

“Let me take you out on this one date and if you don’t like it, then I can deal with it! A man has to step up. I wanna go out with you so bad!”

You stare down at him in shock at his outburst as he begs you…no one has done that before. Kiri didn’t seem like the type of guy to ever joke about this..But why would he want you?

Sighing you look away, heat coming to your cheeks. He asked you out and you just made a scene. “You mean it?”

His head shot like a dog and nodded his head quickly, “It will be the best date you ever had! I’ll even buy you dessert.” He poked out his chest with pride and now a smile to convince you.

“Fine! But if you think-” your eyes wide and throat close up as he smashes his lips onto yours. You feel yourself growing weak and unable to move.

He pulls away quickly with a blush at his cheeks, “I am serious, did that prove something?”

“P-Point proven.” He smirks at his victory and takes you by the hand to show you a wonderful night.

Tamaki

-He’s so stressed and sad, he’s confused. This one might hurt.

Tamaki gets embarrassed so easily but when he is around you something just happens to him. He’s so fluster and can’t look at you but at the same time he’s calm and needs your company. Tamaki finds himself thinking about you and your smile, how soft you look to hold. But why would you want someone like him? Someone who hides and stutters all the time.

Until he was forced to ask you out by Mirio. If he didn’t tell you then mirio would have to tell you himself. And Tamaki almost fainted on the spot. How could he face you?

So he went to your office, stuttering already and panicked. When he knocked on your door he hoped you wouldn’t be there.

“Hello,” you greet the person with a smile that only brightens when you realize it was him, “Tamaki, come in.” You open the door for him and he walks In quickly.

Your office was just like you. He loved how you made this place just as your own, it made him feel safe.

“What’s up? Need another pair of hands on a mission?” You walk back to your desk and near your gear that you needed to take off. He cleared his throat.

“N-no, actually, I have something to say.” You turn to look at his tense frame. “Oh?” Then he turned his face around and took a deep breath.

“Mirio helped me with this. Close your eyes and say what’s one your heart. Um- Okay, okay.” He whispers to himself and tightens his fists. You arch a brow and watch him curiously.

He takes a deep breath then begins to stutter and trip over his words, “W-Wanna take you out- On a date.” His voice breaks loudly. “I hope I did it right..” I wishes to himself breathy and panting.

You stare at the back of his head and place your hands on your desk..Mirio must have set him up to this. Must have felt pity for you, or to do this as a joke.

“I can’t believe you both- I’m not a bet or a joke.” He jumps out of his skin at your shouting voice. His head runs quickly at what he must have said to make you yell at him.

“This isn’t- Oh no, not how I want this to go.” He closes his eyes and shakes a bit.

“Oh? Wanted me to say yes so you guys can laugh? Or, what? Get brownie points for asking me out? Out of pity!” There you go shouting again.

Tamaki has never heard you yell like this, unless it’s a villain…is he a villain? No, he can’t be. But his ears heat up and he sinks into his clothes.

“No…I just wanted to go out with you.” He spoke louder but still hesitant in himself. He stayed still for your next words but they never come.

Only a sniffle.

You lean down on your desk and sob while trying to stay quiet. You thought that Mirio and tamaki were your friends, and would never hurt you.

He turned his head around and something twisted in his stomach to make him feel sick. Seeing you with tears rolling down your face and sink into your own skin like him, made him feel horrible.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he walked toward. You grip on the desk and let out a soft chuckle, “That’s what happens when you pull a prank on someone.”

It clicked in his brain finally that you thought he wasn’t serious. Like he just treating you less and as a joke. It was harsh to think of him like that.

“Y/n..” he walks closer to you as you stiffen the closer he got, you sob harder.

“I get it, you can tell miriro you got me.”

“Y/n.” He said clear and without a stutter, his face and body now on the side of you. “I am in love with you.” Your breath hitched and he hears it.

“You make me wanna be brave. I can’t help but get flustered and shy around you because- Well because you’re so pretty and nice. But I want to take you out..” he leans closer as you look up at him. “I want..” he trails of and glances into your eyes with matching tears curl up in his eyes.

“I want you.”

You take a deep breath and stand up straight. You feel heat raise up in your body of embarrassment, “M’sorry.” You sob again and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer.

And he’s back to being a melted mess as you hold him close. He blushes and softly wraps his arms around you and pats your back lightly. “D-Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

You chuckle and pull away from him and whip off your own tears as his hands stay on your hips. “If you don’t hate me.” You nod and sniffle one more time. He smiles,

“I Could never hate you.”

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padawansuggest · 8 months

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Y’all are too nice in the fics where Obi-Wan gets turned into a cat. Listen, that little shit is gonna be an orange tabby cat. Do you know what that means???

He’s gonna bite everyone. Half his ghost company is gonna have cat scratch fever by the time he’s human again.

He meant those bites both angrily and lovingly at the same time. No he’s not elaborating.

Ekekekekekeks at everything

He would like not just one bite of Cody’s food, but the whole plate, actually

He’s gonna fight that guy *immediately gets bodied*

He climbs onto Cody’s shoulder and starts grooming his bucket. Yes he truly thinks that’s doing something

Spanks > normal soft pets

Pet him as aggressively as you can plz

Purrs 24/7

Cody will hold him with a single hand under his chest and just gesture with him while he’s purring so hard and Cody is fully talking with his hands cat flying all over. It’s their favorite

He would like your sandwich and no he’s not asking he’ll just take that thank you YOINK

He makes biscuits on Cody’s tits 😌 It hurts

He literally cannot comprehend that when he sleeps on Cody’s face Cody cannot breathe. They compromise by Cody spooning him and that helps a LOT. It’s the coziest and safest Obi-Wan has ever been in his life

Uppies. Now.

Crying whenever Cody isn’t there. Full on kitty cries and looking for him whenever he can’t see his sunshine love. Waxer and Boil are trying so hard not to give in plz General, Cody is in a meeting.

Like get more creative babes. He’s not gonna be some smart boy, he’s orange he’s gonna be looking for the braincell till they turn him into a human again.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #commander cody #cat obi wan #codywan

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bits-and-babs · 7 months

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Im so sorry I didn’t see this till after request were closed but so idk if you gon see this but, f!reader had her nipples pierced? I’m sorry but I feel like price would be obsessed with readers piercings like if she had a tongue piercing too? Manz would go crazy. Smut? Dw if not <33

✦ 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 6: NIPPLE PIERCINGS

cds!john price x recruit!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: three months into your sas training course, chief directional instructor captain john price drills you on cold-water-shock survival.

cw: f!reader, cold water shock, power imbalance (recruit x directing staff), secret relationship, breast/nipple play, p in v sex, cream pie.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 7: INCUBUS ⇾

It wasn’t as though there hadn’t been sufficient warning, but three years of service in the British army was nowhere near enough to prepare your body for the brutal battering that SAS selection subjected it to. Your blisters had blisters, and your body pulsed with a bone-deep ache every time you managed to crawl into bed upon dismissal.

You had been sufficiently warned… About everything except this.

Freezing cold water drips from your nose as you hoist yourself out of the pool at the base of the waterfall. Cold-Water-Shock training was a standard part of SAS selection– the ability to control your own discomfort and maintain a level head whilst also teaching the fundamentals of surviving sub-zero. January weather meant temperature levels were unsurvivable past a handful of seconds, and you could feel why.

The process was simple. Fully submerge yourself into the icy depths before raising to the surface and keeping your chin above water. Next step; breathe. Regain composure and steady your breathing to fight the effects of cold-shock. Recruitment Staff would then ask you a handful of simple questions to assess competency before heaving you out of the water.

You’d passed, you felt, with flying colours. The savagery of the otherworldly Brecon Beacons had failed to shake your resolve, answering the questions with ease. Even now, drenched to the bone and involuntarily trembling, you maintained a strong eye contact with Chief Directional Instructor Price as he eyed you with a stern expression.

It’s momentary— barely there. You’d have missed it had you blinked. Price’s thick eyelashes, made damp by the sleet that had been battering the group all morning, dipped below your face. Sapphire blue irises glint in the low light when they zero in on their target. You hadn’t worn a bra this morning given you’d been forced out of bed at the arse-crack of dawn and expected to be in the van within five minutes… They’d left you little to no choice.

Regardless of this reasonable explanation, you suddenly begin to regret your decision to forgo the cover, Staff Price gazing at the way your grey t-shirt clings to your pebbled nipples and the exposed shape of the piercing balls either side of each mound.

“That’ll be all, 16,” he says, that raspy grit to his voice warming you from the inside-out. That fever encroaches on the apples of your cheeks when you realise he’s yet to pull his eyes away.

“… Yes Staff.”

✦✦✦

“You did that on purpose.”

John’s voice, husky and full, was surprisingly even considering how tight your pussy walls clenched around his thick, veiny cock. You wail quietly at the soft breath that dances across your assaulted skin, nipples so incredibly sensitive. Sucked and nibbled and licked, the tender skin screams when Price drags the flat of his tongue over your pierced nipple with a delighted hum.

“N-No—“ you choke out, the overstimulation of your nipples sending another shockwave of bliss down your spine. You know you’re squeezing him, because John ruts up into your fluttering pussy with a far less composed groan. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to!”

“You’re not foolin’ anyone, Love,” John murmurs, gently taking your pebbled nipple between his teeth and rolling it.

You see stars— swirls of technicolour dancing behind your eyelids with how tightly you squeeze them shut against the cataclysmic pleasure that seeps between your thighs. When John jerks his hips up again, you can hear how wet you are. It’s sloppy, disgustingly soaked, and Price loves it.

“Fuckin’— Hah-“ John moans against the supple flesh of your breast, wrapping his lips around it and sucking on the hypersensitised skin. This time, when you arch your back from the bed with a wail of his name, he begins a slow and leisurely pace with his hips.

Burying your fingers into the short-crop of his hair, you brace against the ticking bomb of your orgasm as it approaches. Each long stroke of John’s hips makes another disgustingly wet sound, your cunt greedily sucking him in and creaming around his throbbing dick as he flicks his tongue back and forth across your abused nipple. His other palm, battle calloused and rough, squeezed the other breast, thumb equally torturing your second nipple.

It comes in waves; cresting, crashing tsunamis rather than soft laps of the ocean on a beach. A prickling heat that singes away the Beacon’s icy cold from your toes and creeps up the inside of your thighs. Your heart slams against John’s lips, your hands pushing into the back of his head to keep him there while you chase what could only be described as liquidation.

“Ohmygod—“ you slur, and it’s as though the edges of your vision blacken. In truth, you’re not sure what you call him as you come apart on his cock, sobbing out a hapless string of garbled noises that don’t sound anything like his name. Toes curling either side of his hips, you fail to brace against the overstimulation that rips violently through you.

“Fucken’ ‘ell—“ he groans deeply, a guttural growl that seems to vibrate the atoms in the air around you. The deliberate, methodical thrusts of his hips suddenly pitch to a sloppy, desperate gallop. John’s hands grasp the bed sheets so tight you almost hear the threads strain against the pull.

He cums, coating the inside of your cunt with a rumble of your name that sounds so foreign to your ears with the afterglow buzzing in your eardrums. John continues to fuck you through it, taking pleasure in the way you squirm and squeal and cry until his cum seeps between your legs, coating the inside of your thighs with his seed.

Sharp, heaving breaths echo in his small quarters, and you’re almost certain that his fellow DS had definitely heard you this time. But when John places his damp forehead to yours, eyes closed as he relishes in the bliss of being so close to you for just a moment longer, you struggle to find it in yourself to worry.

“You should wear a bra,” John mumbles, pressing a kiss to your lips— but missing in the haze of post-orgasm-bliss and settling for a peck on the corner of your mouth.

“Why?” You muse, still a little breathless as he works his lips down your chin and over your jaw. The gruff, burly Chief of Directing Staff was so affectionate when the door was closed. You knew that this thing you had going on was more serious than a thing when you stopped being anxious about getting caught and being kicked off the course— instead stressing about John offering his tenderness to another recruit. “If this is how you react to seeing me with a wet shirt and no bra, I’ll dunk myself in that water every damn day.”

In a moment of sobriety, John pulls back to look you in the eye. His aquamarine irises hold a heavy seriousness that makes your breath stall for a moment, afraid you’d said something out of line.

“Love, I completed that whole trainin’ session with a rock hard cock.”

A beat.

Just before peals of laughter burst from you. John rolls his eyes, turning onto his back on the mattress. Still, he’s unable to bite back the smile that pulls on his lips.

cod mwii/kinktober taglist:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth

@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

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satoshy12 · 7 months

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Baby Phantom with his Rogues Gallery in DC:

While in a fight with Skulker and Technus, Danny, now de-aged by a new invention, inadvertently, with his rogues, landed in the DC Universe. It had been Batman who saw them first as they wreaked havoc on the sky of Gotham. And all saw the robot fight the tiny meta-alien toddler. And the 2 Villians who seem to attack and try to kill the Toddler. Before he could do anything, both the toddler and the Villians were gone, seeming to be flying away. This had gone on for a long time in many cities until Danny was finally able to defeat both Skulker and Technus. And he then noticed his new body. He was in a toddler body, in public... Skulker called him Whelp and wanted his pelt by skinning him alive. Well, time to go undercover till he builds a way home, a better prison for Skulker and Technus, and escapes these newly learned heroes, villains, and civilians. Who wants to save him from his creepy villains?

Danny's fight was seen by almost every city of the heroes, and all of them are pretty pissed at Skulker and Technus. And sadly for both ghosts, magical and similar attacks work on them. So if they are caught by a hero or villain, it could give them much pain even while Intangibility.

Lex Luthor was pissed of Technus used his suit against the toddler, for once he will help Superman. He is pissed! Most other villians had similiar moments or were disgusted at the idea of hunting down and fighting a toddler.

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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 month

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Finally getting help (prt 9)

Masterpost

“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall.

“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.

“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind.

“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.”

Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.

“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.

“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.

He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.

Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny.

Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.

This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony.

He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.

They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.

Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.

“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.

Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him.

Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?

Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”

When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.

-----

Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.

“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.

“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.

“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”

“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”

“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back.

He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.

“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said.

“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy.

“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little.

“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm.

He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.

Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”

“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”

“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.

“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #fanfiction #dead on main #jason todd #finally getting help au #Danny is pregnant #trans!Danny #vlad is a creep #bruce wayne #jazz fenton #damian wayne #tim drake #multi part fic #long post #unedited #let me know if you find any mistakes

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sentientcave · 10 days

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Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#cod mw fanfiction #cave writing #John Price x Reader #x reader #dark fic #Price please keep your dogs on leashes they are terrorizing women #The boys missed the real retirement party because they got emergency deployed and they've been trying to reschedule all year long #Good thing they've got such a good gift to make up for it #The homies in discord agree: These guys are unsettling

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mirtash · 26 days

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a lil bit of lore: Princess Luna had to banish her sister on the Sun for 1000 years Luna doesn't have enough power to hold the sun on the sky for long enough because Celestia being in her nightmare form (it's not a Day Breaker but I don't have a name for her yet eeeee like Supernova or smth???) weakens Luna's connection with the sun (and also Luna holds less magic power than Celestia in general) what's more Nightmare Celestia cursed Luna's ponies to be "the creatures of the darkness where you belong", turning them into Bat Ponies. most of the ponies in Equestria are bat ponies. Pegasy Unicorns and Earth ponies only comes from ancient pure blood families like Apples, Pies, Glimmers, etc some as Rainbow and Rarity mostly look as regular pegasys and unicorn but they can hold trates of the bat ponies (fangs, ears, sometimes wings) Bat ponies and the hybrids don't feel good enough during daytime (their eyes works so much better in the dark, they flies faster during night time and prefer lower temperature) and that's another reason why Princess Luna has to hold moon at the sky longer than sun Apple Jack

- She puts flowers in her mane in the memory of her mother. In this AU Pear Butter is a very cool genetic. She died when Apple Bloom turns 5 and Apple Jack (who just turned 15) left absolutely heart broken. However this tragedy made Apple siblings much stronger and they've become closer than ever. That's when Apple Jack finally gets her cutie mark, representing her bond with apple family (three apples represent Apple Bloom, Apple Jack and Big Mac) - Apple Jack is one of the ponies who doesn't really enjoy Luna's reign mostly because she is a farmer and it's hard for her to take care of the various apple trees during longer night time. - The Apple family is VERY conservative they are one of the very few families in Equestria who still grows original sorts apples (and other crops), including a super rare Zap Apples and that need extra care due the lack of sunlight. - one of the Apple family ancestors happened to be the leader of the earth ponies rebellion that happened in the first years of Luna's reign. Luna's spirit was broken after she had to banish her sister and things didn't go very well in her kingdom. Hundred of angered ponies led by the "iron mare" Red Delicious broke into the Castle of the two Sisters. The guards didn't even try to stop them. When ponies entered the throne room they saw The Princess of darkness, crying over her sister's broken throne. The room was filled with blooming Sunflowers, favorite flowers of Celestia. Then Luna turned to them and she spoke to them as a princess and they saw the power she holds and they realized she can destroy them all with a single spell. But she didn't. Red Delicious who was determined to fight "the princess of darkness" till the end finally saw the real Luna and she wasn't scared or angry anymore but started to feel the compassion for her. - Red Delicious herself helped Luna to make a plan on defeating hunger. Ponies were starving due the lack of crops and Red Delicious worked hard alongside with Luna to invent plants that would be able to grow effectively in the dark on the shortest time. Ponyville became the first night farmers city (very close to the Castle of the two sisters).

Rainbow Dash - Her full name is Rainbow Stormcloud Dash. - Her mother and father are both pegasy and her grand grand father is a hybrid bat pony (she likes him sooo much he is super cool) However, she doesn't have any trates of bat pony except of the ability to see in the dark and flying at night. - Rainbow mane in different varieties is a very rare gene that only exists in her blood line a very long time ago one of her ancestors tried to save his friend from a dragon and flied so fast he broke the laws of physics and a Sonic Rainboom happened. After that his mane turned rainbow colored. Pegasus with a rainbow mane was born once in a generation since then but a very few of them were able to perform a Sonic Rainboom. - Rainbow Dash is the first pegasus in Equestria history who was able to perform the Nocturnal Rainboom. - Her dream is to become a Shadow Bolt. They are the best flyers in Equestria!!! And most of them are bat ponies because it's hard for a pegasus to perform bat's tricks. Not for Rainbow though!

#mlpfim #appledash #fanart #rainbow dash #applejack #lesbian

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christopher-bryant · 2 years

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minions take posse photos

minions start and watch minion fight club

minions take a stroll from blackwater to armadillo via coach

#red dead online #tonight was a goddamn adventure ill tell you that #we did a few wagons then helped two different friennds getting griefed and wiped the floor with their asses #spent a good half hour just running up on top of mountains near strawberry just to stand on a rock at thr top #huddled together so we could all blow each other up and go flying off #spent another half hour fucking up low level wannabe griefers #started a fight club #did some posse infighting #and just fucked about in the desert doing fuck all till we went our seperate ways to bed

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morgan-the-lonely-brick · 2 years

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Charlie acted like he was stuck again because he didn't want to go to sleep and when I went over to convince him, it somehow became a play-fight xD

Feast your ears on the play growls of a budgie (increase volume)

He let's me pet him only when it's time to sleep and he wants attention...

This shot is so funny😂 Just SQUASHED

#He doesn't really get stuck in the ladder #But he does act like it for attention #I know it's just an act but other family members don't know and keep helping him so it's a learnt attention seeking behavior #I generally just let him get the energy out by flying a bit or just play fighting till he calms down #He goes to sleep after that #Budgie charlie

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holllandtrash · 10 months

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death of me | carlos sainz

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x reader

in short, the three times you didn't tell carlos you loved him and the one time it was almost too late.

i actually had 2 requests with these prompts so this is those requests 1: “You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want” 11: “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did.” 94: “Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”

Word count: 9.8k

warnings/tags: 18+ angst, fluff, plot with some smut, very light dom/sub blink and you miss it, this is a goddamn rollercoaster im sorry

17 August 2023

You got the call and honestly, you thought it was a joke. Some horrible, practical joke that someone in your life had set up because they knew it would get to you.

Which is why you laughed when you heard the person on the other line say, “There’s been an accident.”

“Yeah, okay,” you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dried the bowl in your hand, finally getting to the stack of dishes you had been neglecting since this morning. “Who put you up to this?”

“No, this isn’t a joke, Miss,” the woman on the line said. “I’m calling from the Jiminez Diaz Hospital. There’s been an accident. Carlos Sainz Jr. was involved in a car accident. He’s-

You didn't hear the rest of whatever the nurse had to say. The ringing in your eyes drowned her out, along with the bowl slipping from your grasp and crashing onto the floor, pieces of blue ceramic shattered around your feet.

Frozen, you tried to listen to the calming voice on the other end of the line, the voice telling you that he was undergoing surgery. She couldn’t provide any more additional information, but she encouraged you, as his emergency contact, to come to the hospital as soon as you possibly could.

As you hurried to find your keys, your relationship with Carlos flashed before your eyes. Every moment, every laugh, every kiss, every fight, every word said and unsaid.

And god there were way too many words you hadn’t got the chance to say.

31 December 2022

Carlos grabbed hold of your waist and you giggled before slipping out of his hold, reaching for the bottle of champagne on top of the fridge. He tried to take it from you, knowing that you probably weren’t going to be able to successfully open it but you just aimed the cork in his direction and he backed off.

“That’s the third bottle,” Carlos told you, he wasn’t scolding, just casually pointing out that you were going to have a massive headache tomorrow morning.

“And it’s about to be the twenty-third year,” you said. Which was technically incorrect, but Carlos admired your excitement too much to correct you. You pointed the bottle in the direction of the hallway and he braced himself for the cork to go flying.

When you managed to pop it off without his help, the bubbly liquid came pouring out the side and you laughed as you held it up above Carlos’ face, instructing him to open his mouth. He listened, but your aim was horrible and the champagne spilled down the side of his chin.

“Here,” Carlos said, taking the bottle from you. You looked up at him and smiled, needing to take a second to focus on him and not on how the walls behind him were spinning. Carlos’ touch was soft as he brushed his thumb over your lower lip, opening your mouth enough for him to pour some of the champagne down your throat as well.

You were drunk, but you were still standing so you considered that a win. You just needed to last twelve more minutes till midnight and then you could collapse on the couch with him if you wanted.

The two of you were supposed to go out to a house party that his friend was throwing. But then you walked out of the bedroom wearing a silk red dress that stopped at your thighs and your hair in perfect waves that looked ideal for Carlos to tangle his fingers through and he quickly decided that he didn’t want to share you going into the New Year. The only person he wanted to celebrate with was you.

So he grabbed one of the champagne bottles and picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder as you squealed. He carried you back into the room you just walked out of and as much as he admired the dress on you, it looked so much better stained with champagne and crumpled on the floor.

You had only been together a few weeks, you were still in the honeymoon stage, which is part of the reason why you were more than happy to just stay at home with him tonight. You couldn’t get enough of him, and Carlos felt the same.

Carlos worshipped you. He had ever since the night you first met, which just so happened to be the first time you slept together.

He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a hookup after catching his eye at the club. You were supposed to go home the next morning, but how could you go home when he woke you up by leaving a trail of kisses down your naval and then across your thighs before he dove into your centre. He worked his tongue through your folds, not slowing until you were seeing stars.

When you did finally cum, legs convulsing around him, Carlos licked up every drop of your juices and then his lips found their way back to yours. He told you he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and that was when you knew you were absolutely fucked.

Carlos knew your body, he knew how to pleasure you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. It was the sexual drive and the lust between you that drove you to him in the first place, but you stayed for so much more.

You stayed because he memorised your coffee order after the first morning you spent together. You stayed because he listened to you talk about your family for, you timed it, three and a half hours because he wanted to hear all about the ties and the drama and the people that raised you. You stayed because Carlos treated every date like the first one, always looking for ways to impress you, to make you blush or smile.

So there were, four weeks later and ignoring his friends and the promise you made to celebrate New Years Eve with them, because let’s face it, Carlos much preferred having you on your knees in front of him than having to make small talk until the clock struck midnight.

His fingers twisted through your hair as he released into your mouth and pulled out of you, but before you could swallow he kept your mouth open with a tight grip on your chin. Carlos grabbed the champagne bottle next to him and poured the bubbly liquid down your throat. The subtle twitch of his eyebrow was the instruction you were waiting for and you swallowed, tasting the sweet and salty mixture of champagne and him.

You spent your evening tangled up in the sheets, you on top of him, him on top of you. When you left for a moment to go grab a second bottle of champagne, Carlos followed and hoisted you up on the counter, picking up right where you left off.

Now you were drunk. It was the champagne, yes, but it was also Carlos. He was intoxicating, he made you feel bubbly more than the drink itself did. He’s the one you couldn’t get enough of. With his shaggy, dark hair and even darker gaze, you pulled his face to yours and wiped the excess liquid from his chin. You sucked on the pad of your thumb, your lips pulling back into a devious smirk as Carlos groaned, dropping his face to the crook of your neck.

“Tú serás la muerte de mí,” You’ll be the death of me.

“Good,” you whispered, inhaling a sharp breath when he attached his lips to your throat, nibbling and sucking on your already marked up skin. You could still feel the ghost of his fingertips from when he choked you earlier, something you both loved, but his mouth was also enough to leave you gasping for air.

He knew you, he knew your body. He anticipated your reaction every time he touched you. And while you both thought you were taking a break to be able to catch the countdown, even having put on one of his shirts to keep his eyes from wandering, you were almost ready to drag him back to the bedroom because Carlos Sainz Jr. was also going to be the death of you.

But it was New Years Eve.

“Carlos,” you whimpered, pulling your fingers through his hair and giving him a sharp tug so he would lift his head. You hovered your lips over his, “We’ll miss the countdown.”

“I don’t care,” he chuckled, he nudged his nose against yours before connecting your lips. You both still tasted like champagne and god you couldn’t get enough of it. Carlos smiled against your lips and pulled back when he felt you pout. “What, hermosa?”

“I like the countdown,” you admitted, the volume you spoke at dropping about ten levels as you stared up at him through your lashes. “It’s like we get to start a new chapter in our lives at midnight.”

His smile didn’t fade because he loved the way you looked at the world with such a pure lens. He cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. You expected him to kiss you again but he just pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“The only chapters I care about are the ones with you in it.”

You were drunk, but god did that line sober you up.

You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol flowing through your system or if it was because your heart was beating too fast for your own good, but your lips parted with the intent of saying those three little words.

Because you knew then, at that moment, you loved him.

But Carlos kissed you and swallowed the words that were dancing on the tip of your tongue. You thought that maybe that was for the better. It had only been four weeks. A month. It was too soon to tell him you loved him, you’d scare him off. You didn’t need to start a new year with a traumatised boyfriend.

So you kept it to yourself and told yourself that there would come a better time to tell him how you felt because even though you were certain you loved the man standing before you, now was not the time to say it.

But when was the time?

16 Feb 2023

You opened up the top drawer of the dresser that sat across from Carlos’ bed, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could pull your clothes out from it.

“Don’t,” he said, demanded basically. “Don’t pack up your things.”

Ripping your arm from his grasp, you ignored his plea and grabbed the pile of clothes that had accumulated here over the last couple months. It started as a joke, leaving your clothes here, at his place, telling him that you needed an excuse to come over.

And then one t-shirt turned into half of your closet being crammed in with his. Carlos didn’t complain once.

But you couldn’t live in this fantasy world you had created for yourselves any longer. Carlos was about to travel to Bahrain for the start of the season and then he’d head to Italy in between races and then Jeddah and then Australia and you’d be here. In Madrid.

“I’m not staying in your house while you’re travelling around the world racing,” you scoffed, hoping he could see how preposterous the idea was. He opened his mouth, giving you that same look he gave you every time he was about to bring up the idea of you travelling with him. You pointed a finger in his face, “And I’m not going with you.”

You couldn’t. You had a life here, a job here. You had no idea how other girlfriends and partners of these drivers were able to get up and leave their homes for a half of a week to support them, but you couldn’t do that.

Carlo yanked the clothes out of your hands and shoved them back into the drawer. You scowled at him, not like you were very intimidating but you tried to be.

“Carlos,” you huffed out his name. “Let me pack, let me move out. This has been fun but-”

“But nothing,” Carlos cut you off and reached for your arm once more, pulling you towards him. You had been avoiding his eyes for the last hour and he knew something was up, something that went further than just taking your clothes home. “Talk to me, hermosa.”

Carlos didn’t just know your body, he knew you. Your mannerisms, your anxious fidgeting, your facial expressions. He knew your thoughts travelling through your head before you did, the two of you were so in sync it was terrifying.

So he physically felt the heavy exhale you finally let out, forcing all of the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders into the space between you.

“Why does this feel like a break up?” He asked, trailing his hand up your arm. His touch was soft and comforting and you wished it was enough to make everything better. It should have been enough.

And your next few words didn’t just hurt you, they sliced right through Carlos.

“Because I think it is a break up.”

Carlos let go of you to rub his hands over his face before tugging them through his hair. He backed up, putting a little bit more space between your bodies because as much as he wanted to hold you and tell you that you were making a mistake, he heard the certainty in your voice. The ‘I think’ was only added for his benefit. Your mind was made up. He knew it.

And you had seemingly known it for a while, too. You knew this moment was coming.

He walked out of the room when you turned your face, no longer trying to stop you from packing up your bags. He shut the door after him, refraining from slamming it because that’s not who Carlos was. He didn’t do things out of haste and anger, he wasn’t a reactive person.

No, Carlos sat in his thoughts and his feelings and he let them simmer. He thought about the last few months and wondered if it meant anything at all to you, because he thought it did.

And now you were throwing it all away and because what? Because you didn’t want a partner who travelled for a living? You weren’t even trying to put the effort in, you were giving up before it got difficult. And who’s to say it would get difficult? Carlos’ home was still in Madrid, he would always come back to you and now you weren’t giving him the option to.

He could hear you packing from down the hall, a few drawers shutting, his closet opening and closing. This was wrong. And if it felt wrong to him he knew it must have felt wrong for you too, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

When you walked out a while later, a duffle bag over your shoulder, a small suitcase behind you, you still avoided his eyes as much as you could because you didn’t want him to know you had been crying. You didn’t want him to know that this break up was destroying you, but was ultimately the right thing to do.

Carlos stood up and approached you, still keeping his emotions in check even though it broke him to see you so hurt, so hurt over your own choices.

This could be avoided, he thought. This didn’t need to end.

You dropped the bag to the ground and inhaled a deep breath. You glanced at Carlos, but only momentarily as he stood in front of you. It was a lot easier to look at the buttons of his shirt or the rings on his hand or literally anything else because meeting his gaze was too hard.

But this is why you had to leave.

You hated goodbyes and if you had to say goodbye to him every week, if you were going to be in different countries for most of the year, if you weren’t even going to be with him, then what was the point of this relationship?

You wanted to grow with your partner and you couldn’t do that if they were a Formula 1 driver. You couldn’t grow with Carlos.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a shake of your head. He could hear the way you choked to get those words out, fighting back even more tears.

Carlos, knowing he didn’t have much a chance to convince you into staying, still lifted his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and choosing to look past the way you winced as you leaned into his touch, as if already thinking about how this would be the last time you’d feel this sense of comfort.

“Don’t do this,” Carlos said, voice timid and lanced with desperation. “Please.”

“Carlos, please don’t make this harder than it has to be-”

“I love you.”

You froze.

Even as Carlos rested his other palm against the side of your face and forced your attention on him, dipping his head as he repeated those words, you remained frozen.

“I love you,” he spoke with so much confidence it scared you. “I love you and I don’t want this to be over. It can’t be over.”

It wasn’t that you couldn’t say those words back because you didn't reciprocate them, you couldn’t say it back because it would only make things harder. Up until now, neither of you had said you loved the other. And up until now, you were perfectly happy pushing what you felt for him down because the timing never felt right and now you knew why.

Deep down you always knew that you’d find yourself needing to walk away.

He’d have an easier time letting you go if you told him you didn’t love him and while it would have been a lie, it was what he needed to hear.

You stepped back and grabbed the duffle bag off the floor, his arms fell back to his sides.

“I’m sorry, Carlos, I don’t-” you turned to the door, letting your hair fall in front of your face, “I don’t love you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He wasn’t arrogant, but he was persistent.

“Well it’s true,” you pulled the strap of the bag over your shoulder and reached for the handle of the door. If you just avoided his big brown eyes and the stare that had you hooked before either of you ever said a word, you could leave. You pulled open the door, only for him to press his palm against it and slam it shut again.

You felt his chest against your back as he stepped forward. Each breath he took was in sync with yours, because you two were always in sync, even at the worst of times.

“I don’t love you,” you repeated, raising your voice.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, then.”

You couldn’t.

You couldn’t because the moment you turned around you would fall back into his arms. You’d let yourself get swept away by his promises and his affection and then he’d leave for a race and then another and another. You loved this bubble you created during the office season and you fell so hard so fast for Carlos, but it wasn’t meant to last.

“I’m leaving,” was all you could get, gripping the handle again and yanking the door open with such force that Carlos had no choice but to take a step back. He tried to reach for you, his fingers ghosted over yours, but there was nothing he could do to stop you.

You were gone.

June 4 2023

You kept up with the races throughout the beginning of the season. You still followed his account and all of the motorsport ones he was associated with. You didn’t dare like or comment on any of them, but you weren’t ready to let him go.

Telling Carlos you didn’t love him was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

And you didn’t let yourself look at him as you said it either, you didn’t take on any of the pain that he felt. You said the words, you broke his heart and then you left.

Carlos didn’t try to reach out once, not like you expected him to. Even when he was home between races, which wasn’t often, you’d only hear about it from social media.

But this was what you wanted, right? You wanted this life, you wanted to stay home. You didn’t want to keep chasing after a Formula 1 driver and be forced to follow him from country to country if you wanted to spend time with him. That wasn't healthy nor was it something you wanted to put yourself through.

Getting over him, however, was impossible.

And you tried, really. You went out with your friends, you distracted yourself, you picked up hobby after hobby but good god your thoughts always travelled back to him.

You fought with yourself. You kept asking yourself if you made a mistake by ending things. You kept wondering why you didn’t at least try. But then you’d see a photo of him getting into yet another plane and you knew you made the right choice.

Your lifestyles were extremely different. Your personalities were compatible, yes, but the way you went about your day to day lives would never line up. At least not while he was racing.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself, though. You liked watching him race.

When you watched from home, your eyes were always on the number 55 Ferrari. You rooted for him, you winced at every near miss, you celebrated his finishes and without fail, you always looked at your phone and thought about congratulating him via text or even a call, only to instantly decide against it.

You weren’t even that big of a Formula 1 fan before you met him, but now this seemed to be as close to him as you’d ever get again.

It didn’t help that he looked good.

Carlos pulled off those red racing overalls. And when they hung low around his hips and the fireproofs clung to his skin, god you wanted to scream at yourself for letting him go. You could have been there, at the races, if you just put a little more effort in. You could have been the one to rip the fireproofs off his body after he got out of the car, because let's face it, after some of the runs he’s had this season, you knew he was probably needing an outlet to release some of that pent up energy and frustration.

You missed running your fingers through his hair. You missed the feeling of his lips tracing every inch of your skin. You missed waking up next to him and seeing your legs tangled together with the sheets. You missed that he was always looking for a reason to touch you, whether it be your wrist or your pinky finger or your back, his hand was always on you.

You missed Carlos.

You loved Carlos.

Which was why your judgement was a little clouded when your friend invited you to Barcelona the weekend of the grand prix, not to watch the race because god knew neither of you could afford tickets, but to visit the clubs she hoped the drivers would be at.

She knew people who knew people and you didn’t ask questions, you just gripped her hand tightly as she led you towards the VIP section of the third club that night. The first one was a bust. The second one you spotted a few people associated with Formula 1, but the third nightclub was the jackpot.

It didn’t take long to spot Charles, celebrating getting a podium after a difficult qualifying session on Saturday. You never actually met Charles but you had heard lots about him, and from the look he gave you across the lounge, you had a feeling he had heard a lot about you too.

With a drink in his hand, he made his way towards you, nodding to himself when he realised that, yes, the girl in front of him was in fact his teammate's ex.

“Does Carlos know you’re here?” Charles asked, dipping his face towards your ear to be heard over the obnoxious music. You shook your head, eyes darting all around him but the Spanish driver was nowhere in sight.

“Is he-” god why were you even asking? You didn’t have a right to. You broke up with him. “Is he here?”

Charles nodded again, standing up straight to look around the crowded room full of bodies dancing and mingling. A chuckle passed his lips as his eyes widened momentarily, “Looks like he’s a little busy though.”

You turned on your heels. It took a second for you to understand what Charles was talking about.

But then you saw it.

A girl, who very much resembled you, height wise and hair wise, had her arms wrapped around Carlos’ neck as she held their bodies together, letting the music flow through them as they danced together.

You hated the way he was staring at her, like he was thinking about all of the ways he was going to devour her.

And unlike Carlos, you did not let your feelings sit. You reacted to everything. Out of anger, spite, jealousy, you never took a second to think about your actions or the potential consequences before doing anything.

So before you even processed how horrible of an idea this was, you walked across the club, the music fading into the background as you only heard a high pitched ringing in your ears. Carlos paid no attention to you, he had no idea you were even there until you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand off the waist of your lookalike.

She scoffed at you and shot a quick glance towards Carlos, “Cuál es su problema?” What’s your problem?

“You,” You shot back, not giving her any chance of a rebuttal before you pulled Carlos away from her and the dance floor. He called your name, trying to get your attention as you navigated your way to the bathrooms. He was much stronger than you, so he could have pulled your hand off of him if he really wanted to, but he let you drag him into the single user washroom without much of a fight.

It wasn’t until you locked the door behind him and stood only inches apart did it sink in what you just did.

Your heart was racing as you stared up at Carlos. You took in his stern features, the way his eyebrows pinched together as he waited for an explanation, the way he crossed his arms over his chest.

This was very reminiscent of the night you met, only when you met in the club you pulled him into the backseat of a car and he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he was purposely keeping the distance and he seemingly wanted nothing to do with you.

He must have known you didn’t have any words because he cleared his throat and eyed you once over, “What the fuck was that?”

What the hell could you say? That was me pulling you off some stupid look alike because even though I broke up with you, I don’t want to see you with anyone else?

That would be the truth. The reasonable thing to respond with because after pulling him away from his date, you probably at least owed him some honesty.

But again, you were someone who reacted.

“What?” You scoffed, arm flailing to the side. “You think you can come back to Spain for the first time in months and not say a single fucking thing to me? Weren’t you the one who said your home was in Madrid? People talk, Carlos, you haven’t been home since the day-”

“Since the day you left,” he interrupted, knowing damn well you were trying to say he hadn’t been back home since he left for the season even though you both knew there was a deeper reasoning as to why.

Carlos shook his head. His usually loving stare was cold and intimidating, he wasn’t going to let you put the blame on him for anything that had occurred.

“I haven’t been back to Madrid since that day you walked out on me,” Carlos repeated himself, putting heavy emphasis on the reminder that you were the one that left him. “I hope you understand, but I haven’t really been in any sort of rush to go back.”

Why would he want to go back home knowing you wouldn’t be there when he returned? Why would he go back to the one place he knew you’d be, but would still inevitably be just out of his reach? So close yet so fucking far.

He wasn’t going to put himself through that, through knowing you’d be in the same city but not being able to touch you. It was easier to find other places to stay between races.

And you did understand that. It may not have sunk in right away, but it made sense now. You couldn’t see it through the tv screen, you couldn’t get a read on him when you were watching him race from miles and miles away. But you saw it now.

Carlos hadn’t moved on either.

He took a breath as he leaned back against the door. You didn’t like the defensive stance he was relying on. With his arms over his chest all you wanted was to step forward and take his hands in yours. You hated the space between your bodies.

But you were broken up. You both had to accept that, as hard as it was, and that was your doing.

Except you still didn’t want to see him with someone else.

“So who was she?” You asked, drifting the topic of conversation back to the girl from the dance floor.

“You don’t really have a right to ask.”

“It’s not a crime to be curious.”

Carlos clenched his jaw as he averted his gaze for a second. He rubbed his palm over his chin and shrugged, giving in to your question because he always did struggle to say no to you, “I don’t know, honestly. I met her ten minutes ago at the bar.”

“Sounds familiar,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to when you first met.

“We met on the dance floor,” Carlos pointed out.

“I was on the dance floor. You were at the bar.”

“We were both on the dance floor,” he repeated, sounding more sure of himself the second time.

His eyes dropped, taking in your outfit of choice for the first time since you’ve been in the enclosed space and when the corner of his lips curved upwards, just for a second, you felt your heart skip a beat just like it did the first night you met.

“You were wearing that same skirt too,” he said and you automatically looked down at the black leather skirt you currently had on.

“Was not,” you scoffed, but to be fair, you had absolutely no idea what you had on that night.

Carlos chuckled, ignoring your childish rebuttal. “That skirt and a white top and I know it was white because I remember watching you spill your drink all over the front of it and you said-”

“I need an excuse to take it off anyway,” you finished for him, flashes of that night appeared in your mind. For so long, you only remembered how Carlos made you feel when you first met that none of the other details mattered.

But he remembered everything.

“You ordered gin and tonics all night,” Carlos continued, studying your face as your features softened with each additional memory. “Your friends tried to pull you away from me when we were on the dance floor and you didn’t let them. When I introduced myself, you had no idea who I was and when we finally stepped outside to leave the club, you looked at me with those big eyes of yours and you-”

He stopped midway and inhaled a faint breath, you both did actually. His was due to reliving the night you first met and yours was due to the fact that Carlos stepped forward finally, raising his fingers to your chin to tilt your face upwards.

You leaned into his touch, stepping forward yourself to trace your hand over the shirt he wore as he finished his final thought.

“You looked up at me and you told me I looked like someone you could fall in love with.”

Alarms went off. You wanted to run again. You didn’t want to have this conversation again. Once was enough.

“I don’t- I don’t remember that,” you stammered out.

“Because you were drinking gin and tonics all night,” Carlos said again, this time with a hint of a smile. “I also don’t even think you meant to say it, you changed the topic immediately afterwards.”

“You could just be making this shit up,” you pointed out, not wanting to accept the fact that you knew Carlos would be someone you would love since that first night.

“I could be,” he nodded in agreement, fingers still holding onto your jaw. He stared at you the way he used to. With such adoration and desire. What used to be lust melted into something so much stronger and it hadn’t faded even if months passed. “But unlike you, I don’t lie.”

Your eyebrows pinched together, “When have I ever lied to you?”

“The day you left,” there was another hit to the chest as you anticipated the rest of his sentence. “When you told me you didn’t love me.”

“That wasn’t a lie,” your words tasted like acid on your tongue.

His hand fell from your face and he laughed. The sort of laugh that had your stomach turning in knots because there was nothing humorous about this situation you had now found yourselves in for the second time in four months.

“I know you,” Carlos said. “And I know there’s no possible way that I am the only one that feels so strongly it hurts. I know you love me because I feel it. I always have. In the way you touch me, in the way you run your hands through my hair, in the way you used to wake me up in the morning by kissing me until I finally opened my eyes. I know you love me because I see it in everything you do. In the way you look at me, the way your eyes always found mine if we were in a crowded room and I could see the breath of relief you’d take because as long as we saw each other, the world was calm. I saw it when you started leaving your clothes at my place, when you started going grocery shopping for us instead of just you and I saw how it broke you to walk out on me that day. It wouldn’t have hurt if you didn’t love me.”

With your hand still gripping onto his shirt, your lower lip trembled as you tried to find something to say in response. Every single word that came out of his mouth was true. He knew you better than you knew yourself and he probably knew long before you did that you loved him.

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the wrinkles on his shirt and the white button you played with under your thumb, “You know that phrase, if you love something, set it free?”

“And if it comes back, it's yours,” Carlos added on, stepping closer as he raised his hand to the side of your face, his fingers twisting through your hair. “I’m here, hermosa. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. You forced yourself to, thinking that the humorous breath of air protruding from your lips might make the rest of this conversation easier.

It didn’t.

“Carlos I can’t keep setting you free every time there’s a race,” you said, your voice timid. “I can’t. If I’m going to love you I’m going to do it with every bone in my body, with every fibre of my being and I can’t do that if you’re gone for eight months of the year. I need you in my life, with me, by my side, not on a tv screen, not all around the world.”

What you were asking for was selfish, you knew this. You knew that, essentially, you were putting Carlos in a position where he had to choose. He had to choose between you and racing and that wasn’t a fair spot for him to be in. You knew this.

Which is why you chose for him.

Four months ago you chose for him, and you were doing it again now.

You briefly glanced up to meet his eyes, trying to move past the way you were melting at the feeling of his hands in your hair.

“I shouldn’t have come to Barcelona, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, hands falling to your side. Without so much as a second look, you stepped past the driver and reached for the door handle.

Carlos didn’t let you walk out on him this time.

He grabbed your wrist and spun you back around so fast that you didn’t have a second to breathe before his lips were on yours. Furiously and passionately like he was making up for all of these months without you. His tongue dove into your mouth as you slid your hand around the back of his neck, holding his face to yours because even though you knew this was a terrible idea, that you were broken up, there was no better feeling in the world than kissing Carlos Sainz Jr.

Neither of you were sure who started undressing first. It didn’t matter. Buttons went flying, your skirt got hiked up around your waist and when Carlos hoisted you up to place you on top of the sink, you had a momentary lapse of judgement and asked yourself why you broke up with him in the first place.

“I miss you,” Carlos muttered against your lips as you inhaled a sharp breath when he pushed your panties aside, the pads of his fingers traced over your folds. “I missed this.”

“Carlos-”

“Missed how wet you got for me,” Carlos ignored whatever plea was about to fall from your lips as he pressed his mouth to the crook of your neck.

You were putty in his hands, quite literally. There was nothing but quiet whimpers and strangled moans from you as he slid two fingers past your folds, both of you forgetting that your conversation ended with you trying to walk out on him.

His thumb traced over your clit, applying the slightest bit of pressure, just enough to have you arching your back as you sat perched on the edge of the counter. You felt him smirk against your skin right when he picked up the pace of his digits, curling them against your walls, so deep inside you.

You dragged your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep his lips on that spot just below your ear as your head fell backward. Carlos kept you upright, he supported you, he knew how helpless you were during times like these and he lived for it.

Four months ago you would have never thought that walking out on Carlos Sainz Jr. would lead you to being finger fucked by him in the bathroom of a Barcelona club.

He lifted his head, replacing his lips on your throat with his free hand and forcing you to look at him. You recognised the lustful stare, only growing darker as he alternated between lightly tracing your most sensitive nub and pinching it between his forefinger and thumb until your legs quivered beneath you.

Carlos attached his mouth to yours, biting down and tugging on your lower lip, the sharp pain only added to the pleasure coursing through your body. He thrusted his fingers into you with such force it had you yanking on his dark hair so hard Carlos hissed through his teeth.

“Cum for me,” Carlos’ groan was masked with a demand. One you had no possibility of ignoring as your body reacted to him and his words. With his fingers so deep inside you, Carlos worked you through your release, slowing but not stopping as you dropped your head to his shoulder, holding him as close to you as you possibly could.

When he finally pulled his fingers out of you, you weren’t surprised when he brought them up to his lips. There was a perfectly fine sink right in front of him but Carlos would never waste an opportunity to taste you.

He then cupped your chin, his gaze softened but you could still make out the mischievous glint. This night wasn’t over.

“Let’s get out of here.”

That’s all it took. Those five little words. The one request and you had forgotten every logical decision that had led you up to this moment. He helped you off the counter, kissing you once more before you had to leave the privacy of the bathroom and before long you found yourself walking the same route as the first night you met.

Past the dance floor, sending your friend an assuring smile, silently telling her everything was fine. Carlos led the way at first, you kept a safe distance behind him and when you walked outside there was already a car waiting out front. You climbed into the backseat alongside him, ignoring the flashes from paparazzi and the call from them asking if Carlos was back together with his ex.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. From the ride to the elevator to the hallway until finally he dragged you into his hotel room, or maybe you dragged him once the door opened, you were both desperate for the other at this point.

It was hard to think rationally. In the back of your head you knew you’d have to leave in the morning before you found yourself clinging to him the way you used to, but you just wanted to enjoy the time you had now. You wanted to hold onto every beautiful sound that came from the back of his throat, each kiss he pressed to your skin, the sound of your name escaping his lips because no one would ever say your name that way he did.

You loved him.

You loved the way he knew your body better than you did. How he had you desperate for a release in a matter of minutes, and only giving in when you begged for it. You loved the way he stretched you out, needing a second to inhale a quick breath as he slid his cock into you with little warning, deciding you were wet enough already after making you cum once in the bathroom and again on the edge of his bed with just his tongue.

You were used to his size, you had spent enough time in bed with him to know what to expect tonight but after four months your mouth still fell open and he swallowed all of your moans by pressing his lips to yours and taking all of your air out of your lungs.

Carlos wasn’t patient. Why would he be? After months without you he didn’t feel the need to wait. He found a steady pace but within minutes he had picked up his speed and hiked one of your legs up around his waist.

That position turned into another which turned into a third and at one point during the night Carlos had you sit on top of him, staring at your own reflection in the mirror as you bounced on his cock, listening to his encouraging words and his praise while his fingers made for a beautiful necklace on your throat.

He cherished you, treating you like royalty on his sheets as you both carried the same thought, both of you knowing that you wouldn’t stay past the morning. As much as you wanted to forget that you broke up with him and as much as he wanted to pretend that you were still his, there was no denying your relationship was over.

You loved each other, but that wasn’t enough to make up for the distance and the lost time during races and the anxiety of not being able to come home to each other at the end of the day. You loved each other, truly, but it was never enough.

Which was why when morning came, you climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb him after getting very minimal hours of sleep. You slid on the clothes you had discarded all over his room and decided that leaving without a second look would be easiest.

You had just cracked the door open when Carlos stirred in the blankets behind you. You had no choice but to turn around, to look at what you were walking away from for the second time.

He sat up in bed, the sheets draped over his lower half and his hair unruly and sexy and almost enough to make you crawl right back in next to him.

He saw that you had redressed yourself, made yourself as presentable as you could wearing the clothes from last night. He didn’t have to ask where you were going, he just nodded to himself and let out a breath of acceptance.

You were never going to stay.

“I’m sorry,” you said, but those two little words were not the words he was hoping to hear during his short time with you.

“No you’re not,” Carlos shook his head. He looked away from you for a second, his tongue poking out to moisten his lips. He was asking himself if last night was a mistake. It probably was.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

“You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want.”

“I’m leaving because it’s what’s best for both of us, Carlos.” You sighed, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door. “I can’t live the life you want me to live and I’m not going to ask you to give anything up for me. We’re at a crossroad here.”

Carlos dragged his line of sight back towards you, “Even though I love you? That doesn’t make any difference?”

It makes things harder.

You shook your head, repeating that you were sorry one more time and letting the last image of Carlos be of him dropping his head back down to the pillow before you turned around and walked out of his life once again.

August 17 2023

You practically ran to the receptionist, slamming your hands against the desk, “Carlos Sainz Jr., is he- is he here? What room is he in? Is he okay? God please tell me he’s okay-”

“Ma’am, I need you to take a breath,” the nurse was calm, she had been through this hundreds of times. Dealing with the frantic loved ones of a patient. She stood up, hand outstretched to rest over yours as she pushed the box of tissues closer to you. You grabbed one and dabbed the corner of your eyes, having been imagining the worst the entire drive over and unable to stop crying.

You didn’t even have time to question why you were still his emergency contact. You had no idea how your name and number came up in the conversation and it pained you to think that when the paramedics brought him to the hospital, the only phone number he could think to mutter was yours.

“Is he okay?” You repeated after a deep inhale. “I need to know he’s okay. The lady on the phone earlier wouldn’t tell me anything, she just said there was an accident.”

“Carlos Sainz?” The nurse asked, looking at her screen as she sat back on down. She typed on the keyboard, muttering a few things to herself until his file popped up. “He’s undergoing surgery right now, should be done soon though.”

“Surgery for what?” You asked, desperate to get information. “Is he going to be okay? He’s a racecar driver, can he still drive? Is it life threatening-”

The nurse seemed to crack a smile, “I’m familiar with his occupation, Miss. Unfortunately I am not able to give you any more information on his condition.”

You couldn’t tell if the whole confidentiality act was because of his fame or because she really had no idea how he was doing. Regardless, the not knowing stressed you out beyond relief and you tried for a few more minutes, pestering for answers, until finally she told you that the only option for you was to sit and wait.

So you did. Foot tapping against the tiled floor. You thought about calling his parents or his sister but last you saw from social media, his sister was somewhere in Greece and you had absolutely no way of contacting his parents as you weren’t with Carlos long enough to get their contact information.

It was just you in the hospital waiting room, nervously watching the minute hand on the clock go around way too damn slow. Every time a doctor or another nurse entered the room, your heart dropped in anticipation, but none of them were there to keep you informed.

Twenty minutes went by with no news, and in hindsight, that really wasn’t that long of a waiting period. But it felt like an eternity, not knowing. Left drawing your own conclusions, your own terrible scenarios.

When a doctor did finally emerge from the swinging doors, he stared down at his clipboard before approaching the nurse behind the reception desk. You watched them interact, of course you did, you needed to know if he was Carlos’ doctor.

When he walked over to you, a tight smile on his lips, you stood up instantly.

“You must be here for Carlos,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake with not nearly enough strength you wished you had. “I’m Dr. Alejo.”

“Hi,” You tried to glance at the clipboard tucked under his arm but you wouldn’t understand anything anyway. “Is he-”

Dr. Alejo nodded and you felt as though you could breathe when his smile grew even just the slightest bit.

“He’s fine,” He assured you. “A few broken ribs that will heal on their own, a fracture of his left wrist that required surgery and some severe bruising along his abdomen, but no internal bleeding to be concerned about. He’s okay.” Dr. Alejo scratched his jaw, “Might not be able to finish the season, but I think he’s just happy to be able to walk away from this accident.”

He nodded his head towards the doors that separated the patients from the waiting room, leading you through them and down the hall as he flipped through the papers on the clipboard.

“It was a car accident?” You asked. “How? What even happened?” It was hard to believe that a professional racing driver would get into something so mundane as a car accident. During the break of the Formula 1 season.

“I believe the other driver was distracted,” Dr. Alejo answered. “I don’t have much more information than that as he wasn’t my patient, but he’s also okay. I think still in surgery, but both drivers are extremely fortunate in this scenario.”

He stopped in front of a room where the door was slightly ajar. Carlos’ name was written on the board outside of it and you asked for permission before going inside. The doctor nodded and allowed you in by yourself, instructing you to be gentle as he had just come from surgery.

You walked in, not prepared for the sight of Carlos on the bed with IV tubes sticking out of his wrist. His entire rib cage and abdomen was bandaged up and you could see hints of bruising on his legs and arms, aside from where the cast on his left wrist was covering them. There were minor marks on his face as well, cuts from the broken windshield, more bruising, everything that made you ache for him.

His eyes were closed so he didn’t see you slowly make your way to his bedside, sitting on the side that seemed to have less injury. You scanned over him, taking in the damages to his body and you didn’t think twice before raising your hand to brush a few strands of hair off his forehead.

You hadn’t seen him in a few months, not since you left his hotel room.

Part of you expected that you’d run into each again, you’d always been drawn to Carlos, but you never would have imagined this.

You didn’t even know he was home.

Hesitantly, you took his hand in yours, thumb tracing over the few inches of skin that weren’t littered with dark bruises. You felt his fingers twitch in your grasp and you glanced up in time to see his eyelids flutter open.

“Hi,” you whispered, expecting to have to explain yourself. Carlos most definitely did not expect to get into any sort of accident today, let alone see his ex-girlfriend who walked out on him twice. Obviously there was some explaining to do.

But he only turned his palm upwards to interlock your fingers together, careful of the IV tubing. He tried to shift on the bed, only to grimace in pain and you inhaled a breath, worried for him.

“Just-” you swallowed, fighting the urge to put your hand to his chest like you would normally do if you just wanted him to sit. “Just take it easy, okay?”

Carlos nodded, glancing down at your hands and then at the cast on his wrist and then sighing with deep despair as he took in the bandages wrapped around his body.

“Not like I had a shot at the championship anyway,” he joked, already thinking about the last half of the season.

You didn’t want to laugh. Nothing about him sitting in a hospital bed was funny, but it was no surprise he was thinking about Formula 1. He was a driver, racing was in his blood.

So you just cracked a hint of a smile and tried to change the topic to something else, something more pressing.

“I didn’t know you were back in Madrid.”

Carlos paused, “I just got in today.”

Your brows pinched together, “What do you mean? Didn’t your break start two weeks ago?”

“I was in Italy, for a bit,” he told you, his thumb brushing over yours. “But I didn’t want to be there. All I wanted was to come home. All I wanted was to see you.”

Your heart sank deep into your chest, “Don’t tell me you got into a car accident when you were on the way to my place.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

“Carlos,” You wanted to scold him, really. You had broken up, he didn’t need to come see you. If he had just stayed in Italy, if he hadn’t decided he needed to see you, he’d be fine and not laying with limited motion in a hospital bed. You were the reason he ended up here.

He always said you’d be the death of him.

“I love you,” Carlos said, sounding more sure of his own words than he ever had before. “I love you, and I don’t care if you walk out on me every time I say it because I’m just going to follow you. I made a mistake the first time, letting you leave. I made it again in Barcelona and I’m not doing that anymore, I’m not going anywhere, hermosa and if I do, I’ll always come home to you.”

You had thought you were all cried out, having tears stream down your face the entire drive to the hospital as you thought about your relationship with Carlos. The good, the bad, everything in between. You cried thinking you’d never get a chance to create another memory with him. You were distraught, wanting to scream into the abyss because even if you weren’t with Carlos, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

You loved him.

You always had. You always will.

And you weren’t going to go another second with him thinking his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

A single tear fell down your cheek as you locked eyes with him, the only person in your life you would ever give your heart to and know, without doubt, that he would give his back in return.

“I love you,” you finally told him, the biggest weight lifted off your chest, one that had been dragging you down for months. “I love you, Carlos, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did. I'm sorry it took this for me to tell you. I'm so sorry, I love you, I love you-”

You moved closer to him, dropping your head to rest against his after you kissed his temple, quietly repeating that you loved him over and over again. You placed your hand against his cheek, holding Carlos against you and he covered your hand with his, not wanting to let go.

He’d let you go one two many times and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

And you wouldn’t give him a reason to.

#carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #carlos sainz smut #f1 one shot #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #carlos sainz jr smut

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pr0cyon-lotor · 19 days

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Guys...

Did Till learn his violent tendencies from Ivan?

Like... Till is the most sensitive of all the cast. Yet he has quite the violent streak. As a little baby he didn't seem capable of just flying into a rage

Yet in the flashback

Ivan is initiating the fight by being a dick. Was this how Till learn to deal with his emotions? Like how Ivan taught him? With his fists?

And they stuck together a lot...

Did Ivan influence Till's outlet for his emotions?

#i'm rambling #alien stage #ivantill #alnst #ivan alien stage #till alien stage

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king-dra · 2 years

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WooaahoOOAAHoh life never goes our wayyyyy

BUT THATS JUST HOW IT ISSS

#NO MATTER WHAT LIFE THROWS AT YOU #TAKE IT ALL HEAD-ONNNNNNNNNNNN #WOAH OH #FIGHT LIKE A TIGER #WALK IN THE PARK #PLAY THE HERO #TILL I DIE #FLY LIKE AN EAGLE #SOAR THROUGH THE SKY #BE FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #TILL YOU DIE #random rambles

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starzwithapen · 5 months

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⋅•⋅⊰∙∘˗ˏˋ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˎˊ˗∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

JOHN DORY / READER ☆ START A LOVE TRAIN

જ⁀➴.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚.

☆Summary: John Dory's first meeting with Rhonda and her owner, you!

☆Content: reader is gender neutral, first meeting!! Gonna make a part 2 exploring their relationship more :3

☆a/n: I FUCKING HATE HIM [affectionate] my first worrkk pls leave feedback if youd like it helps a ton!! :3

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘˗ˏˋ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˎˊ˗∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The day John Dory met you and Rhonda was simultaneously one of the worst and best days of his life.

He'd been hiking- nothing out of the ordinary for him, maybe one venomous spider he'd had to fight off, but so far so good! The sting of the cold air against his cheeks quelled his thoughts, made him feel accomplished, in a way.

But he must've been distracted- he was a little more careless than usual, overestimating his own strength and struggling to pull himself upwards, his legs dangling over the edge- he could feel a tick of nerves in the back of his mind, but pfftt, John Dory's got this! He's done this a million times-

Next thing he knows, the rock holding his legs up collapses, and down he goes with it, tumbling over harsh terrain while the wind rushing past his ears drowns out his yelling.

After many very painful seconds of straight up rolling down this cliff, John Dory groans in pain, dusting himself off and pushing himself upwards, except- oh, shit, okay, ow, something’s very wrong with his ankle.

He hisses and grabs onto the skin, pulling his goggles up to inspect it- it appears swollen, and he realises with a frustrated groan that he'd managed to twist his ankle miles away from the nearest safe-house.

Well- looks like he'll have to camp outside for the night, wouldn't be the first nor last time, but it'll be significantly more difficult with a leg that refuses to cooperate with you.

He rushes through setting up camp, wanting to just sleep the pain off till his foot got better, but just as he sets his head down on the pile-of-leaves-that-vaguely-resemble-a-pillow, he hears distant rustling.

That's not odd- it'd be weirder for the forest to be quiet, if anything, animals are always trudging along no matter the time of day- what's odd is how loud the sound is, feet papping against the floor in heavy strides, coming closer and closer towards him.

John Dory sits up in a flash, suddenly regretting how shittily he'd camouflaged his camp- his eyes widen towards the oncoming noise, having just enough time to snatch a stick and hold it out threateningly, though his hands shake and tremble.

“Hey! I have a- uh, a really sharp stick, and I'm not afraid to use iiIIITTT-”

The stick goes flying out of his grasp, and he gets the breath absolutely slammed out of him as something huge jumps onto him, rumbling atop him and- eugh, was it licking him?! Was this how he died, after all these years?! Eaten alive by a-

“Down, girl- stop that, you're scaring him!” the thing finally lets up on trying to swallow him whole, standing back on its hind-legs and cooing at you excitedly, and it's then that he notices you.

“Gods, I'm really sorry- she's not usually like this-” you reach over with a grimace to wipe the wet mess of saliva and glitter off his cheeks with your sleeve, and all JD can do is stare at you, star-struck. One minute he was facing his impending doom, and now he was facing the prettiest person he'd ever set his eyes on, and though he's certain it's night time he feels as though you're shining the sun's rays straight at him.

You smile nervously and pat his attacker's leg, “She wasn't actually going to eat you- or at least I don't think she was? You can never quite tell with Rhonda.”

Okay, John Dory had lived on his own amongst nothing but the trees and mountains for years, so excuse him for not being particularly eloquent when all he blurts out is “John.”

You and Rhonda blink at him comically for a moment, and he feels his cheeks flush under his fur-lined vest. No one's ever caught him off gaurd like this before.

“That's…not my name, but good guess anyways.” You check over him as if he's concussed, and he tries not to frown at the scrunch in your nose as you take in his camp.

“It's my name- John Dory.” He flashes you a charming smile, though he assumes the effects are dampened by the mess of glitter and dirt still smeared across his face, “and can I get yours, or can I just call you mine?”

Silence stretches on between you both, his smile getting more strained by the minute- why hadn't that worked? That always worked, at least when Spruce did it! You were supposed to be- swooning, or something! Not looking at him like he's sprouted a second head!

You cut through the tension with a gasp, and he follows your gaze down to his badly-damaged leg, now with extra bloodied scrapes, “Oh god, that looks rough- did Rhonda do this?” He doesn't have time to tell you that no, actually, it wasn't your fault, when you turn around and scold your…armadillo? He feels his lips quirk up- you looked pretty cute like that, like a disgruntled parent.

“Well, you can come inside and I'll wrap it up for you- you shouldn't leave it out in the open like that.” You wave him over, grabbing onto his hand to pull him into the door, and he feels his skin burn pleasantly where you both touch.

And that's how it starts. JD walks inside the armadillo bus, Rhonda, marvelling at the warmth. Though you hadn't given him your name yet, he felt as though he could trust you- you seemed like someone who values honor and helping others, however bluntly or awkwardly you may go about it.

You wrap his leg with gauze and a healing salve, and he fills the room with chatter- it'd been so long since he'd last seen another soul, he didn't realise just how…lonely he'd felt. You don't speak much of yourself, probably staying cautious, but you do seem curious about his stories, and the twinkle in your eye urges him to speak with a little more pomp than usual.

Your voice turns more concerned as you ask what he'd been doing camping out in the open like that- he'd told you of the trail he planned to follow, though he'd skipped the part where he fell off-course. He tells you of how he'd wanted to end up somewhere warmer by the time winter really hit, sighing to himself. “I'll just have to stock up on fire-wood, maybe invest in a flame-thrower.”

“I mean….we can take you there.” You offer in a quiet voice, your gaze stubbornly set on the floor, “It's still a pretty long drive, but better than 2 months walking on a sprained ankle, especially with how gnarly it looks.”

John Dory's conflicted- the offer sounds heavenly. He pictures waking up to your warmth day by day, helping you gather breakfast, travelling with a companion, for once, but….he'd left to the middle of nowhere for a reason. He wanted to distance himself from his old habits, his old expectations of himself and others.

Though….you seemed to be just as- if not more- capable than him. He wouldn't need to be a pillar for you to lean all your weight against, nor the pressure that turns coal into shining diamond- you two could simply…have each other's backs. Maybe…maybe this could work out, at least for a little while.

John Dory tilts his head up and takes one look at your welcoming smile to make up his mind.

"Can't say no to your pretty face, now can I?"

This time you snicker behind your hand at his awful flirting, but he catches it just in time- and he knows this'll be the start of something great.

#john dory x reader #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls john dory x reader #x reader #ok sorry I dont like putting stuff in main tags </3 thats it for tags #starzwrites #PLS LEAVE FEEDBACK IT HELPS A LOT !!#i hope this was enjoyable even tho it was shorter than I wanted :[ had to split into 2 parts ....

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anqelically · 2 days

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TILL DEATH DO US PART 𖤐 SAMURAI!YUTA OKKOTSU

i. VOWS SWORN AND BROKEN

SUMMARY. abeit unwilling, you began to be accompanied by a new samurai your age. you learned that he’s better than you initially thought he was

WORD COUNT. 4.6k

SERIES SUMMARY. Set in Edo Japan, you, daughter of the L/N Clan’s head, are left powerless while your clan is on the brink of a war with the Zenin. In order to protect the clan’s future leader, your father assigned a samurai to remain by your side. Although his duty is only to protect you, Yuta Okkotsu couldn’t help the feelings that developed along the way

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

You wanted to be free.

Every other morning, except when the weather was bad, you’d sit near the sliding window of your room and watch outside. You’d observe the small birds that perched themselves on the roof of the estate, watching them scurry about before flying away.

You wanted to fly— to be free in the way that the birds were. They could leave, flying anywhere the wind would take them. You wanted that, to leave and live out your years beyond the confines of the L/N estate. However, you knew better than that. For as long as you lived, you’d be stuck inside the same walls.

Even if you fled, you had no place to go. You had no friends to ask for help, and you were sure that no one would want to take you in either. After all, if they were found hiding you after running away, their heads would’ve been cut off in an instant.

You never appreciated the family you were born into, even if there were many who wished to be you because you were born into your family. It suffocated you and held you back from leading a mundane life many hated, but you desired. Freedom was not your friend, but something you could only yearn for.

Your father, head of the esteemed L/N clan, was anything but your friend. He was aggressive and quick to get angry with you, even if you made a simple, reversible mistake. You knew he blamed you for your mother’s death, even if you had no choice in what had happened. The deadly infection your mother got shortly after giving birth was not your fault.

He didn’t let you go outside often, leaving you to spend most of your days at the estate. It also never helped that the L/N’s were fighting with the Zenin clan, another noble, aristocratic clan. The Zenins were aggressive in the same way your father was, so the relationship between the two clans would never work out.

Some samurai from each clan had fallen due to a number of fights, but each one had more deaths than the last. It was getting dangerous, and even someone like you, who never had anything to do with the fighting, could tell. The people of your clan were growing frantic and afraid, and you were sure it was the same for the Zenins.

Eventually, your father sought out more samurai to serve as guards. You thought he wanted to place more of them around the estate in case of a surprise attack, but it was a surprise to you when one of the said samurai knocked on your bedroom door.

Yuta Okkotsu was his name, and he was assigned to protect you specifically. Although you had argued that you didn’t need anybody’s protection, your father said otherwise. You were stuck with a boy who was no older than you were as your bodyguard. could he even protect you? You were only 16 years old, and sure he was the same. 16 is the age most began their training, not the age they were already put to samurai duties.

Within a day of yuta guarding you, you already hated it. He was silent as he did his job, following you around the estate as you tried to go about your usual business, which wasn’t much. Yuta did the same thing the following days, keeping himself a few steps behind you. The only times you were free of his presence were in your bathroom, and during your bedtime, which was when he opted to stand outside your door instead

But even if you didn’t like having him around, he was the reason your father allowed you out more. You often went into town and roamed around, usually visiting small stalls that were selling food and buying some as Yuta trailed behind you and watched.

You hated the feeling of being watched so one day, months after he began to guard you, you had the idea to lose Yuta while you were both in town. You had a plan, one that you thought would work out well, and executed it on the weekend. The marketplace was busy, so you took your chance and ran into the crowd. Yuta, alarmed, ran after you. He didn’t catch up and lost you in the swarm of bustling people.

‘Finally,’ you thought as you repeatedly checked behind for your guard. ‘I have some alone time for myself’

It was naive of you to believe that was it.

Your feet quickly carried you through the crowd, and you eventually found a path that’d carry you to your destination. Deep into the forest, in a space that resided by the L/N estate, was a scenic lake that you claimed as your spot.

Although most of the trees surrounded the lake, there was a small space for sunlight to shine through clearly. It illuminated the bare Sakura trees during the night unless it was springtime, the time in which those three trees blossomed.

You were nearing the lake when a hand suddenly caught your arm. You yelped in surprise, turning to see a random man dressed in a kimono. His dark eyes bore into yours with ill intent as he pressed his fingers further into your arm. It was then that the hairs on your arms stood straight.

“I knew my eyes weren’t deceiving me. This pin on your yukata,” he harshly pulled your body closer, “is the L/N family’s. Only the head and their direct family wear it. You’re the head’s daughter, aren’t you?”

You mentally cursed your family’s representative pin. Although you could use your noble status to your advantage in certain situations, it was also a curse. The man in front of you was a Zenin, which you could tell by the badge stitched onto his sleeve. You were in deep trouble.

“I’m… Let me go,” you pleaded. You knew it was useless but spoke anyway, “Let me go and you won’t face the wrath of my clan. I have a samurai w-with me and-“

“You mean the scrawny boy you left behind?” the man laughed. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while, and I can tell you that he’s long gone.”

‘How stupid,’ you thought. You were acting like an idiot, too focused on trying to find some free time when there were people out for your blood. Although they didn’t want you dead specifically, killing the head of the L/N clan’s only child was more than enough to temporarily satisfy the zenins. Killing you meant there was no one left to inherit the title of clan leader when your father would die.

You didn’t want to die.

Without any warning, you kicked the man where it hurt. His grip on you loosened as he went to cover his privates in pain, and you took that opportunity to run. You didn’t get too far when you felt a rock hit your ankle. The sharp pain instantly made you fall.

You attempted to crawl away, but your efforts were futile. The man grabbed you by the ankle he hit, causing you to gasp in pain. He then pulled you closer, striking your face to silence you. You still fought back, however, hands and legs attempting to push him off.

“Get—! Get off!”

The two of you continued, and the man eventually resorted to choking you out. His arm pressed against your neck tightly, and you were left with almost no air to breathe. Your arms weakly pushed at his face as if it would do anything.

You were close to passing out when his head was suddenly sent flying. The blood from his neck splattered across your face and eventually dripped down onto your clothes as you coughed for air. His body would’ve dropped onto you if it weren’t for someone kicking it to the side.

You sat up straight, wide-eyed, about to get a good look at The body until someone placed their hand under your chin. Your head turned to face Yuta, who knelt in front of you. A bead of sweat ran down his temple as he examined you carefully. Your dirt-stained hand wiped the blood off your left eyelid before you realized he was talking to you.

Despite Yuta’s lips moving, no noise had reached your ears. You turned to the Zenin’s body at the side. his decapitated head lay open-eyed a few feet away from the rest of the body. Yuta boy noticed your glance and stopped talking, recognizing the look of shock on your face.

You were Y/N L/N, of course you had never witnessed such a scene. You were the “closeted princess”, a name that he heard a few fellow samurai call you. Although you knew such things were not a rare occurrence, experiencing it was different than hearing about it.

“Let’s get you back,” you finally heard him speak. Yuta’s voice sounded softer than you expected. “Can you walk for me?”

You met his eyes before you looked down at your leg, “My ankle…”

Yuta followed your eyes and lifted your foot. Your ankle, which throbbed relentlessly, was bleeding. You must’ve gotten the gash from the Zenin samurai earlier.

He sighed, “I see. I’ll carry you back to the estate, then.”

And that’s what he did. Yuta sheathed his katana before he lifted you into his arms and carried you towards the L/N estate. You didn’t want to be seen by a doctor, so he decided to bandage your wounds for you. It wasn’t like you knew how to properly do it, anyway.

After you took a bath, you sat on your bed as he wrapped white bandages around your palms. They had gotten scratched up when you fell onto the ground, as well as your knees. You stayed silent as Yuta rubbed on some ointment before dressing your minor wounds.

Now that you were close, you could get a good look at the boy. You never bothered to pay attention to the details of his face before. His cheeks were rounded and his nose was softly shaped. Although you thought his eyes were close to a shade of grey, they were more of a darker blue up close.

“We’re the same age, are we not?”

Yuta looked up at you, “We are. Why are you asking?”

“You didn’t even flinch at the sight,” you spoke quietly. “When you cut that man’s head off, you made it seem like nothing.”

“I am a warrior. I cannot let something like that break me so easily, especially when I have duties to fulfill,” he explained.

“Such as?”

“Protecting you.”

Silence ensued between the two of you, allowing your thoughts to consume you as you sat. Despite all the trouble you caused, he had come and saved you from meeting an early demise. It was all thanks to Yuta that you were still alive.

Once he finished bandaging you up, you stood. The pain in your ankle had subsided, though you still tried to lean your weight onto your other foot. Yuta stood straight while you bowed at him, your hands at your side. He was left shocked at the action.

“Thank you,” you said gratefully. “That manâ€¦ who knows what he or the Zenins would’ve done to me if you weren’t there. I owe you my life, Yuta Okkotsu.”

“There is no need for any thanks. It’s my duty to protect you, whether you like it or not. Please, do not bow for me.”

“Even so,” you stood straight, “I meant what I said. Even if it’s your duty, I am thankful for you saving me. I just hope it doesn’t become a common occurrence for me to run into them on my own.”

“There is no need for you to fret,” Yuta took out his sheathed sword and held it in front of you. You stared at it, and then at him, wondering why he held it. “I swear on this sword of mine that I’ll always be there to protect you.”

The samurai was true to his word. As a year passed and tensions between the L/N’s and the Zenin worsened, Yuta stuck by your side. Although you still hated the feeling of being trapped with someone else, you learned to see his presence as a friend’s, and not just a mere guard’s.

He still respected your privacy and also learned to give you more space when inside the estate. But now, when you went out, he kept a closer watch on you and the surrounding area. After the incident with one of the Zenin’s, you grew appreciative of his watchful gaze outside.

However, a trigger away from war, you began to barely leave the estate. You were trapped once again, suffocating in boredom. Although the estate was quite large and there were various things to do inside, none of them interested you. Even though the weather was nice and you wanted to roam around town, your father wouldn’t allow you to leave.

Our only source of outside entertainment was Yuta’s small gifts. Almost every other day he had something new for you. Dango from a new stand, unique jewelry, kites to fly in the estate’s garden, handmade pins. Anything you named and anything he thought you’d enjoy would be brought home to you. He was making an effort to keep you entertained, and you appreciated it.

Nonetheless, you sought more than that. One day, you asked Yuta if the two of you could leave at night. You wanted to spend some time at your spot, even if it became known to tuta. You were sure he wouldn’t be able to memorize the path at night anyway.

“It’s not safe to be roaming around, especially at nighttime,” he reminded you. Even though he wanted you to have as much fun as you could, your safety was his top priority.

“There will always be risks.” You recalled, “Though, I do remember you swearing that you’ll always protect me. Where I want to go is a place no one else ever goes to, I promise.”

You stood close to him, a pleading look in your eyes. Yuta stared back at you with a contemplative expression. He wanted to reject your idea flatly, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

He sighed, “Alright, I’ll come out with you tonight. Your father is leaving for the Gojo clan’s estate after supper. When the sun sets, we’ll leave.”

“Oh how wonderful you are,” you cheered, wrapping your arms around the samurai. He stiffened in his spot as you jumped against him. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Later in the day, you eventually saw your father out of the estate. With his body of samurai, they left towards the Gojo estate, which resided quite a distance away. Although you didn’t know why they were meeting, you were sure it was to prepare even more measures against the Zenin. After all, the enemy of your enemy is your ally.

Yuta followed right behind you as you navigated through the forest. You walked as if you knew the path by heart, which you did. Although Yuta suggested you two bring an oil lamp for light, you told him it wasn’t necessary. You moved in the dark without hitting anything while even yuta was struggling to see. He now understood why nobody else wandered around there.

Eventually, the two of you arrived at your beloved spot. Since it was early spring, the Sakura trees had blossomed pink around the lake. No matter how many times you had seen the sight, you remained in awe of it.

Yuta also admired the view in front of him. Blossoms from the trees fell and slowly drifted into the lake as each breeze passed. The scenery was one he wouldn’t mind having painted in his mind.

You noticed the look in his eyes and smiled, “I found this area during the fall years ago. It was the middle of the day, so it was definitely easier getting here, even if I didn’t know the way back then. When I came back in the spring, it was a scene I could never forget.”

“I can see why you would never forget it. It’s beautiful.”

“Happy we came out here?”

He glanced at you, “I’ll be happy if you also get back safely.”

You corrected him, “When we get back safely. Don’t leave yourself out of it just because you’re supposed to protect me. I won’t let you die for me.”

“I don’t have any issue with-“

“That doesn’t matter,” you cut him off. “It’s not right for you to give your life up for mine. Plus, there isn’t anyone else I’d rather have around.”

His heart tightened slightly, “Is that so?”

“It very much is,” you began to walk towards the lake. “You seemed cold when I met you for the first time. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, you’re just awkward and a tad shy.”

“Ah, don’t remind me,” Yuta turned his head as he walked beside you. “I’m glad your perspective of me has changed.”

When you two stood directly in front of the lake, you were quick to take off your shoes and lift the end of your kimono. You dipped your foot into the water, testing out the temperature. After all the walking it took to get there, the coolness of the water made a satisfied breath leave your lips.

Without a care for the decorative fabric you were dressed in, you sat down on the grass and submerged your legs into the water. Yuta watched as your body immediately relaxed, and he then joined you at your request. Just like you did, he let out a small sigh of relief.

“Why did you become a samurai?” you asked. “I mean, all you do is spend your time watching over me. Doesn’t it bore you?”

Yuta’s voice softened, “Not at all. I like to think of it as spending time with you, even if it is my duty. You would never bore me.”

Your lips parted in an effort to respond, but you found nothing to say. All of Yuta’s sweet words always managed to take yours away. He began to speak again before you could even move.

“I lost my best friend when I was young. Our village was under attack, and there was no one protecting us. There used to be samurai assigned to us, but they got bored of sitting around and never came back. After all, why would a small, poor village like ours need protection?”

As Yuta spoke, he had a face of longing and despondence. In all the time you spent together, you had never seen him sound or look such a way. Behind the small smile he always gave you was a face of despair that would come out easily at the mention of his late friend.

You let him continue, “The men that attacked us killed and burned most of the village down, and I was part of the few lucky survivors. When I saw my friend’s body burning up in flames, something ignited in me. I wanted to become a samurai who would protect others, unlike the ones who ran away from their duties. After a long time of dreaming and training, I became a samurai assigned to you. Protecting you wasn’t the samurai life I envisioned, but I’m glad I got the opportunity. I wouldn’t want it any other way, Y/N.”

His head turned to look at you, and he was met with your face being only a breath’s distance away from his. Yuta stared at you fondly, and you reciprocated his look without realizing.

Even the smallest of moments together with you he cherished. Yuta was hesitant to be assigned you at first. Yes, you were his age and someone he should be able to get along with, but it was that exact reason that made him nervous. You were his age, and a girl from the L/N clan, one mistake and he thought his newly-begun career would be over at your word.

He found himself lucky that you were different than what he envisioned. You weren’t demanding in any bit, but that was only because you didn’t want him there at all. However, once he saved you that one day from the Zenin man, you opened up and slowly accepted his presence, and that acceptance slowly turned into a want of having him around.

Yuta wanted to stay with you too.

He had paused when the thought crossed his mind, ‘Why? Why am I thinking this way?’

He was assigned one duty, and that was to protect you. For as long as Yuta was assigned your guard, he had to protect you. There was supposed to be no room foro his personal feelings or desires, but his thoughts said otherwise.

Why did he think that way? There was only one reason why, and it obviously had to do with my. you. You, who he strived to stay close by. All of his feelings, actions, and wants led to one conclusion— Yuta Okkotsu had fallen for you.

Your face had leaned towards his the slightest bit when he violently jerked back. You were startled at his sudden action, watching as he abruptly stood up with a disturbed face. You wondered what was making him feel such.

“We should head back right now,” he suggested before you could even question him.

You scrambled to get up, “W-wait, I-“

“The longer we’re out here, the more dangerous it becomes. Someone may have followed us out here. We shouldn’t delay.”

Yuta spoke in a way that caused you to stiffen, his words cold. You felt as if you owed him an apology, though you didn’t know what for. You silently accepted the fact that you had to leave when he couldn’t face you, though you couldn’t help but wonder what you did wrong. In a defeated frame of mind, you pinched the end of his sleeve and led him back to the estate.

—

You were angry. No, angry was too strong of a word to describe how you felt. Frustrated was the perfect word to describe it. You weren’t meant to hear the maids’ gossip, but catching a snippet of their conversation was more than enough for you to listen in.

“…the boy seemed to be doing his job well enough.”

“That girl, I wonder what trouble she caused this time.”

“We’ve served L/N-sama and Y/N for years, but that girl is always full of surprises. Maybe she made a move on the samurai.”

“Well whatever she did, that Okkotsu requested to switch places with one of L/N-sama’s guards-”

And you drowned out the rest of their talk.

When word first reached your ears you were shocked. You leaned against the wall as you listened, your hands gripping at your sides. Shock turned into confusion, and that confusion eventually resulted in frustration.

Yuta didn’t want to be by your side any longer, and the thought of that alone made you upset. Over a month passed since the incident at the lake. Was he upset over that? Was he suddenly sick of you? You felt the distance slowly grow after what happened, but you never thought it’d result in this.

Not afraid of confronting him, you searched for him around the estate. You found him walking, his aura the slightest disheartened. If anyone should’ve felt that way, you thought that it should’ve been you.

You walked up to him and placed a finger on his chest, “You’re a liar.”

He glanced at you, confused, “Y/N?”

“You’ve been distancing yourself from me these days, and I have to hear from another that you want to switch duties with somebody else?”

“Y/N, please-“ Yuta glanced around.

“Don’t Y/N me,” you furrowed your brows. “Why couldn’t you tell me straight to my face? What do you not want to- Hey!”

The boy suddenly caught you by your arm and dragged you towards your room. You could care less about the looks the two of you were sent by witnesses, something Yuta could not do. He steeled his face as they passed their judgments, rushing to bring you to your room.

When you arrived, you tore your arm away from his grip. You wanted to tell him off and say he had no right to drag you all the way to your bedroom, but you already lost the argument by letting him do so in the first place.

Yuta massaged his temples as he stared into your eyes, “Please don’t make this harder than it already is to do.”

You huffed, “I don’t want to argue or be difficult, but this is unfair! You promised me that you’d always be by my side to protect me. You're breaking your promise to me, Yuta, without reason. That’s not fair.”

“Breaking my promise is the last thing I want to do, but it’s more complicated than that. I’m a samurai, Y/N, and my feelings mustn’t get in the way of my duties.”

When his eyes had met yours, a wave of guilt coursed through your body and any bitter feelings disappeared. The first thought that came to mind was how he had violently pulled away from you when you leaned your lips closer to his. Did he grow uncomfortable with you?

“I’m sorry for that day by the lake,” you apologized. Yuta’s lips parted. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I swear it’s true.”

“Then why did you lean in? Was it just because you could?”

Your heart skipped a beat, “Not at all! It was like my body had moved out of its own will. I thinkâ€¦ I think I was lost in the moment, that’s all. That must’ve been it.”

So even you were confused as to whyâ€” any sliver of hope within his heart had disappeared. Were Yuta’s feelings reciprocated? Did you lean in for the sake of craving a kiss? Was there another reason behind it?

“Maybe it is better for someone else to guard you after all. we’ll only get hurt if we remain around each other, Y/N.”

“How so? we’ve been just fine this past year! I know I messed up, but-“

“But it wasn’t you who messed up, you see. It was me. I made the mistake of getting too attached. As I told you, my feelings and work can’t mix. I attract misfortune to those I love—“

Yuta’s hand tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. His fingers then traveled down to caress your cheek ever so gently, holding you as if this time would be the last. You could only stand with your heart hammering against your chest as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. He told himself that this would be his first, and last, time doing so.

“—and I’m afraid that doesn’t exclude you.”

“That’s… What are you saying, Yuta?”

He gave you a thoughtful stare. Before Yuta could reply, a knock sounded at your door. You both immediately pulled away before a servant opened the door and announced that your father was calling you down.

Yuta answered for you, saying that he’d escort you down immediately. So, left without an answer, you two walked in silence to your father. And every question you had left you confused for the following year, since all that Yuta parted with was a “Sorry”.

NOTE. and this is chapter 1 thank you for your patience!! i should probably say that this series is fast-paced + has lots of time jumps, since everything will be taking place over the course of a few years. at the start of this chapter they were 16, for example, but they’re 18 at the end

TAGLIST. @seneon @moomv @mochuchi @soleelia @nanaminis @little-miss-chaoss @krushedstars

#୨୧ [ till death do us part ]#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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