#is this just becoming a place where i put fic ideas i will never write?

[taylorswiftscar]

rexsoka but crazy rich asians au

#is this just becoming a place where i put fic ideas i will never write? #maybe… #rexsoka #crazy rich asians #au

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Dress Up, Part 2: The Ceremony✨

Well well well, looks like you guys won. You get a continuation of this fic that was meant to be a one shot lmao! I had some awesome people to bounce ideas off of and I couldn't do this without them. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's time for the wedding! But you know I can't go a chapter without writing a little smut hehe~

*** - Scene change ~~~ - Flashback

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: It's wedding day! And Lucifer is more than willing to try and convince you to the leave the reception early...

Warnings: 18+, smut, hand job, oral (m receiving)

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet..."

***

It had only been a week since the proposal and the wedding was already here. But this is what you both wanted; a nice quiet wedding with only a handful of people with everyone else in Hell being none the wiser. You had to beg Lucifer for the week you got in between, he was practically ready to say "I do" once he put that engagement ring on your hand. It may have seemed like you two were moving a little bit fast considering most weddings take months, sometimes years to plan out! But when you're marrying the King of Hell, there really was next to nothing to worry about when it came to your special day.

The new hotel was the perfect venue, complete with a beautiful ballroom that could rival any chapel on Earth. The guest list was extremely exclusive consisting of only the occupants of the hotel, minus one Radio Demon, not that he would attend even if he was invited. It was Charlie who suggested that he protect the hotel today from any threat that might make itself known. On top of that, Charlie was more than happy to be the officiant, as being the Princess of Hell granted her that authority. Money was no object to the Morningstar family, so no expense was spared.

But regardless of any of that, Lucifer couldn't help but worry. You had one other request for him after he popped the question.

~~~

"I hate to ask more of you after asking for a week to prepare," you started, putting on the last of your clothes that you had discarded during your fun little teasing display, "but..." Lucifer approached you suddenly and held your hand in both of his.

"My love, you can ask of me anything you wish. There is no limit when it comes to you. You've already given me the best gift of becoming my future bride. Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!" He leaned down and planted a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn't help but blush, he never failed to charm you.

"This may sound a little odd, considering what just took place a few minutes ago," you breathed out a sigh, "but...what would you say to refraining from any...intense intimacy?" Lucifer cocked his eyebrow and smirked, seemingly intrigued. "B-but only for this week, I promise! Kissing and cuddling would still be on the table, of course. And no deliberate teasing from me, that wouldn't be fair. I was just thinking that...I want our first night as a married couple to be special. And I figured holding off for the time in between would only heighten the experience. If that's not something you want, I completely understand that-MMPH," you were silenced by Lucifer's soft lips on yours.

"Oh darling, was that all?," he flashed his signature toothy grin at you. "That's hardly a request! I think that's a wonderful idea...n-not that I don't want to ravish you at any given time! But you're right, I couldn't imagine a better honeymoon than getting the chance to feel you again after being denied for a few days, even though it may feel like an eternity. I'll be on my best behavior; you have my word!"

~~~

And Lucifer was on his best behavior, for the most part, at least. There were a few instances where his hands had traveled a little too low on your body and some kisses became deeper than they should have. But both of you managed to make it through the week! But today was the day, and his anxiety was at an all-time high. You decided to sleep in separates rooms the night before, wanting the next time you saw each other to be at the altar. That was the plan, at least.

It had been a while since Lucifer had slept alone. Suffice to say he couldn't sleep. He assured you that he would be alright sleeping alone for just one night, but that ended up being easier said than done. The empty bed he laid in brought back painful memories of his first night without Lilith, something that still haunted him to this day. There would be times where Lucifer would wake up in a cold sweat, only to glance over to see you peacefully asleep, and he could breathe again. Anytime you felt him tug you closer to him in the middle of the night, you knew what had woken him up. He never hid his feelings from you when he confided in you about his ex, and you didn't mind that he would wake you when his nightmares overwhelmed him. You loved him and he loved you. You would never leave. So when you heard your door creek open in the middle of the night to see your fiancé standing ion the door frame, you only smiled and gestured him to you.

~~~

"I-I'm sorry," he sobbed quietly, "I tried...I really did...I-I had a dream, a nightmare, you were there but you started to fade away in front of me. I reached out but it was no use. I woke up and…and you weren’t there, I panicked…I’m so s-sorry…”

"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," you soothed and brought him into a tight embrace. You felt a tear that had fallen from his face make its way down your collarbone. "Don't cry, Luci, I'm not upset, not at all." You lifted his head up to wipe away his remaining tears. "Let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." You planted a kiss on his forehead, and from the dim red light that shown through your windows, you could see a small smile appear on his face. He laid down, his back facing you as you wrapped your arms around him and brought him flush to your chest. You could hear his breathing start to even about again.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured.

"You know I think the same thing every day," you respond.

He interlaced his fingers with yours at your words, squeezing you hand softly. "Promise me you'll never think that again. Please. You deserve everything and more."

"Alright," you conceded, kissing the back of his head, "as long as you promise me the same thing. You're my everything, and I'll spend the rest of my afterlife showing you that."

"Okay," he spoke weakly. You intertwined your legs with his, bringing yourself as close to him as possible. "I still intend to keep my other promise. I'll be gone before you wake up."

"You can stay as long as you need to," you whispered before drifting off to sleep once more.

~~~

True to his word, Lucifer had managed to sneak away before you woke. After adorning his typical attire, he found himself wandering the halls of the hotel, finally stopping when he reached the lobby. Thinking he was alone, Lucifer started talking to himself and paced back and forth like a madman.

"Was this a mistake? Are we moving too fast? No, no, no it's alright, it's fine! We're fine! Get a fucking GRIP, Lucifer! You're panicking for nothing! She loves you...right? Yes, yes of course she does! Why would she say yes to you?! Unless...NO! No, none of that! Relax! Need to relax..."

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.

"WHAT THE-" Lucifer shrieked hearing the bartender's voice. After seeing Husk standing behind the bar, he breathed out a sigh of relief and clutched his hand to his rapidly beating heart. "Geez, warn a guy next time!" Husk huffed and returned to cleaning the whiskey glass he held in his hand. "How, uhh, how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you're a fucking mess right now," the cat demon replied, setting down his now clean glass. "Perhaps you need a bartender to talk to."

"Uhh, alright?" Lucifer made his way over to the bar and took a tentative seat on one of the stools.

"This is about your girl, ain't it?" Husk correctly guessed, "about the wedding?" Lucifer sighed and nodded. "Mhmm. You love this gal, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do!" Lucifer answered almost defensively. "She's...my everything!"

Husk picked up another dirty glass to clean. "And has she given you any reason to doubt that she feels the same way?"

Lucifer huffed. "Well, I...no, no she hasn't. She's always been there for me. Listening to my ramblings, making me laugh, consoling me during the worst times, like last night...she's...she's just perfect!"

"So what's the holdup?" Husk asked after setting the other glass down.

"It's not as simple as you're making it out to be, Husker," Lucifer retorted, pushing his way back from the bar. "I loved Lilith with all of my heart and soul. And she said...that she loved me too. But then one day, she was just gone. Vanished. We fell together. We built a life here TOGETHER! And she just leaves? It's like the last 10,000 years together meant absolutely NOTHING!" Lucifer ran his hands through his hair, trying to keep his composure. "I-I can't lose her like like I lost Lilith. I just can't! I just want to be enough for her. I don't know what I would do if she...", he couldn't finish his sentence. He sat back down at the bar, resting his head in his arms. "The pain would break me..."

The sound of a glass sliding across the counter top caught Lucifer's attention. When he lifted his head, he noticed a full glass of scotch sitting next to him. "Calms the nerves," Husk spoke. Lucifer let out a deep breath and took a swig, choking slightly in the process not realizing how strong it was.

"Not much of a drinker," Lucifer admitted, setting the glass down.

"Sir, if I may..." Husk began.

"You can call me Lucifer," the angel smiled slightly.

Husk smirked. "Lucifer, all I can tell you that love is a vulnerable emotion. I understand that you're afraid. Afraid that history will repeat itself, that your love is not meant to be, and that you're going to end up alone all over again." Lucifer's face sunk, lowering his head against his arms once more. "But," Husk continued, "I know one thing for sure. That girl up there ain't Lilith."

Lucifer raised his head, now hanging onto every word from the bartender.

"If anybody thinks you aren't enough, that's their own fucking problem. And I can tell you that your girl ain't like that at all. She adores ya, can't get her to shut up about ya! Hell, I couldn't even tell you why she ended up down here in the first place! Another one of Heaven's fuck ups, for sure. But for your sake, I'm glad she did." Husk reached over and gulped down Lucifer's unfinished glass of scotch. "Be a shame if it went to waste."

Lucifer let out the smallest of laughs. "Thank you, Husker. And you're right, even in this God forsaken pit, she manages to make it just a little bit brighter. She saved me. And I'm going to devote every moment of my immortal life to her."

"Good to hear. Now..." Husk slammed his hand down on the counter, "get your shit together and go get ready! You got a wedding to attend."

*** You startled awake with the sound of knocking at your door. Your mind was still foggy, brief memories of last night flooded through your head. "Lucifer?" you sat up and looked around your room, but he was already gone, leaving you alone in an empty bed. He had kept his promise after all. There was another set of knocks at the door. "Coming!" you shouted as you ran to grab the robe you had left on the armchair. You opened the door to see Charlie bouncing giddily.

“Good moooorrrrnnniiiinnnngggggg~” she practically sang. “Did you sleep well? Are you ready for your big day?? Are we forgetting anything???” She rapid fired questions at you while you were still rubbing the crust from your eyes.

“Charlie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re more excited than I am,” you joked, gesturing her to come in. “In order: Yes, I slept…well. Yes, I’m ready...mentally speaking. And no, we’re definitely not forgetting anything. You’re the most meticulous and thoughtful person I know, you definitely have everything planned to a tee! You practically leapt out of your skin when we asked if you would officiate.”

"Aww, thank you!" Charlie smiled as she skipped into your room. "And of course! I would never turn down such an opportunity! Being the princess of Hell does have its perks! You can never be too prepared, ya know? Especially for a day that's so wonderful and magical and full of love!" You saw tears welling up in her eyes out of pure joy.

"Hey now, I thought I was the one that was supposed to be crying today!" you joked.

"Right, right! Sorry!" She wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed your hands excitedly. "Let's get your hair and make up done!"

Charlie dragged you over to the vanity and sat you down in the chair. You weren't one to wear much makeup typically, but Charlie insisted. And when Charlie asks for something, it's pretty much impossible to tell her no. So you obliged. But you made her promise that she would not go overboard, only the basics. Thankfully you showered the night before, so your hair just needed a good brush through. Charlie grabbed the hairbrush and began to comb through your hair, gently pulling out the knots out of the nasty case of bed head you were sporting. She truly was the kindest soul you've ever met. But that didn't stop you from feeling a little awkward.

"Charlie," you mumbled, "can I-oww...can I ask you something?"

"Yes, absolutely!" She grabbed the the already plugged-in curler and started working on adding some volume to your hair.

"Are...are you sure you're alright with this?" you asked timidly. "I mean...me and your father. I just don't want you to think I'm trying to, you know...replace your mother. I know I don't know much about her or your relationship but..."

Charlie put down the curler and kneeled down next to you, gently grabbing your hand. "You don't need to worry about that! I promise, it's alright with me. It's more than alright, actually! I haven't seen my dad this happy in a long, long time. He loves you so much! You wanna know how I know that? Because he tells me. Every single day. His eyes light up when anybody mentions your name! And I know you would never do anything to hurt him, or me. You're too kind and good hearted for that. I know it may feel like you're inserting yourself into the picture, but I'm more than happy to have you as part of our family! I know the love you have for my dad is genuine, and I wouldn't change a thing!"

A smile formed on your face. "Thank you, Charlie."

"Now," Charlie hopped up from the floor and grabbed the large make up bag sitting on the counter, “time to make magic happen! I have the perfect idea! Close your eyes and no peaking until I say so!”

*** You could feel your heart beating out of your chest as you stood in front of the closed ballroom doors. You knew just on the other side of that door was the love of your life, and he was waiting for you. Husk linked your arm with his, flashing you a warm smile. "You ready?"

You let out a few shaky breaths before you could answer him. "Y-yes."

"Don't worry, I gotcha," he comforted, "one step at a time, alright? Trust me, whatever you're feeling now, he was in much worse shape this morning. Nearly had to kick his ass to the altar myself. But I straightened him out for ya."

You could help but laugh. "Thanks, Husk. And thank you for walking me down. I know this isn't really a traditional wedding, but I appreciate everything you and everyone else have done for us."

"No thanks is necessary," Husk replied, "for what you do for Charlie and the hotel, it's the least I can do. You're a good one to be sure. And the King is damn lucky to have ya." You smiled and tightened your grip on Husk's arm as you heard the faint sound of music start to play on the other side. "It's time."

Without another word, the large wooden doors opened in front of you, and the music could be heard much more clearly now. The Bridal Chorus. Husk waited on your command as you took the first step. You scanned the room. You saw Vaggie and Cherri standing to one side, Angel off to the other, while Niffty skipped in front of you throwing a mix of flower petals and roaches. You noticed Charlie straight ahead of you in a lovely blue suit, a color you've never seen her wear before. You also took notice to the fact there didn't seem to be any organ in the room, despite the music that continued to play as you walked. You guessed it was some of Lucifer's magic. He really knew how to set the scene for the occasion.

Finally, your eyes found Lucifer. He looked at you as if you were the most angelic being he's ever laid his eyes on. You couldn't quite make out the details of his face yet, but you could tell that tears had begun rolling down his face. You saw his suit for the first time. A beautiful black velvet suit with embroidered gold detailing on the jacket. He looked like royalty.

Lucifer stared back at you, fighting every urge in his body to run to you and scoop you up in his arms. Your dress was immaculate. A stunning flowing sleeveless white dress adorned with fluffy scarlet feathers that were scattered across the skirt and completely covered the bodice. An homage to your future husband. You were only a few feet from him now. His smile could have lit the darkest of rooms. The tears continued to flow from his eyes, and you could feel tears threatening to leave yours as well.

"Deep breaths," Husk murmured to you before stepping to the side to join Angel. You inhaled deeply, holding your breath until you stood directly in front of Lucifer, only exhaling when he reached out and held your hands in his.

The music stopped. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear now.

Charlie cleared her throat. "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to join these two souls before us in holy matrimony. I understand that the couple have written their own vows." Charlie glanced your way and beamed. "Ladies first!" You smiled back at her then turned your full attention to Lucifer, staring lovingly and longingly into his eyes. You had spent the entire week practicing and memorizing your words for this very moment. You breathed in, and you breathed out.

"Lucifer, words cannot begin to describe how you make me feel. You have shown me so much compassion, understanding, care, and adoration that I had never experienced on Earth. My promise to you is that I will always stay by your side, I will never abandon you, and I will love you for the rest of my after life. You've changed my life for the better, and I will make sure that I do the same for you. You are my one true love, forever and always. I love you, my angel."

Lucifer pulled one of his hands away to wipe away the tears the refused to stop flowing. Angel pulled out a handkerchief and brought it over to him and began patting it across his cheeks. You looked at Charlie who had also started to cry. She quickly composed herself and turned towards her father. "D-Dad?" she squeaked out.

Once Lucifer was able to compose himself, he took hold of your hands once more. "My love, I have existed since before the dawn of creation. And in my thousands of years of existence, no one has brought me as much joy as you have. You came into my life suddenly, like a thief in the night, and stole my most precious possession. My heart. It is yours now, for eternity and even beyond. I promise that you will never know another day of sadness, of heartbreak, or of loneliness. My devotion to you is boundless and unfathomable and never ending. I am yours. I love you, my queen."

Razzle appeared in front of the two of you, displaying the silver wedding rings for each of you. You and Lucifer took your respective ring to to place on the other's hand.

"Lucifer," Charlie spoke through her sniffles "will you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife; will you love, honor, and cherish her, hold her up in the good times and the bad, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do, forever," he answered, sliding the ring onto your finger.

Charlie turned and repeated the question to you.

"Yes, I do," you proclaimed, sliding the ring onto his hand in the same manner.

"By the power vested in me, as princess of Hell, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

You and Lucifer smiled at each other, no longer able to hold back any of your tears. Lucifer cupped your face and brought your lips to his for a tender kiss. You heard the cheers from the others in the room, and you definitely heard Angel whistle as your lips connected. When you pulled apart, something had caught your eye. Your rings were glowing. Magic in the form of golden dust surrounded each of them, swirling around the metal bands.

"What's this?" You asked Lucifer, who didn't seem alarmed at all.

He chuckled. "You're the new Queen of Hell, my darling. This magic is a symbol. It signifies that you are no longer bound by the rules that govern the sinners; you are bound to me. You have free reign to travel anywhere you wish, including the other rings of Hell. You're now one of the most powerful beings in the realm! But we can get into the finer details later; for now," Lucifer pecked your lips once again, "let's celebrate!"

After wiping away her excessive tears, Charlie cleared her throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Morningstar!" The crowd cheered as you walked hand in hand with your husband back down the aisle.

"Who's ready to fucking PARTY?!" Cherri yelled behind you as you all made your way towards the bar in the lobby.

Drinks poured at the reception, everyone was cutting lose and having fun! You two had decided to partake in as many traditional reception activities as you could! Neither of you knew how you ended up with so much cake all over yourselves, but it was alright considering Lucifer easily snapped his fingers and both of you ended up back in pristine condition. You invited everyone to participate in the bouquet toss, but it was Vaggie who ended up with the flowers in the end. She absolutely failed to hide her blush from Charlie who was jumping for joy! But this next tradition was something Lucifer had really been looking forward to; the garter belt toss.

Ever the showman, Lucifer hiked up your dress to your thigh and rather than using his hands, he decided to use his teeth to pull the garment down. His head lingered near your thigh way longer than necessary, and you could Angel snickering as Lucifer dragged it down the length of your leg.

"Oh, you're gonna get it," you leaned down to whisper to him, hoping no one else could hear.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Lucifer retorted with the garter belt still between his teeth.

To no one's surprise, Angel was the one to catch the belt once Lucifer finally tossed it.

The reception was going off without a hitch. Everyone was having the time of their lives getting plastered and gorging themselves on the enormous buffet Lucifer hand conjured up. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a new purple dress; the lavender one that you really liked that you had tried on a week ago before you got yanked out of the dressing room by a certain horny angel. Thankfully, you two were able to go back to the store the next day to properly purchase it. You and Lucifer were given your own large round table so you wouldn't have to sit at the crowded bar. Luckily for Lucifer, this gave him easy access to you. As the reception went on and with no one being the wiser, Lucifer's hand found your thigh once more, gliding it up ever so slowly before you shot him a knowing glance.

"What do you say we leave early," he proposed innocently, "I have a wonderful surprise for my new bride once we're on our honeymoon."

You playfully grabbed Lucifer's wandering hand and pushed it down towards your knee. "Luci, it's only been an hour! You can't tell me you can't wait just a little longer, can you?"

Lucifer stuck out his lip and pouted sweetly. "Oh, but my love, have you forgotten? It's been an entire week! And you know how well behaved I've been, I am nothing if not a man of my word." You felt his hand begin its ascent on your leg once more. You didn't stop him. "But I can only be a gentleman for so long..."

You didn't want to admit it, but you were in the same boat as well. That week apart had been almost tortuous. But you were more than willing to wait until the party was over. Your husband, however, appeared to have a different idea.

Alright then.

Before his hand could climb any higher, your hand shot down immediately to his crotch. Lucifer bit back a yelp as he felt you palm him through his pants. His hand stopped all motion, but instead started digging into your thigh, ultimately trying to remain calm. But that task seemed nearly impossible with the way your hand continued its ministrations, his pants feeling tighter and tighter with every passing second.

"D-Darling, please..." he begged through his clenched teeth.

You grinned wickedly. "You want me to take care of you, Luci?" He nodded his head vigorously. "We're not leaving early. But, I'll help you out as a good wife should, yeah?" Lucifer panted, his nails now dangerously close to breaking through your skin. "Head to the restroom just down the hall. Give me a minute and I'll follow you. I'll knock three times to let you know it's me. I have a plan. No touching yourself, understand?"

"Y-Yes," he breathed. When he was sure no one was looking, he stood up from his chair as fast as possible before making his way down the hall. Once you saw him disappear around the corner, it was time to give yourself some cover.

"Angel!" you yelled across the room, waving your hands to flag him down. The spider demon turned his head and smiled. He said something inaudible to Cherri before making his way over to you.

"Hey there, pretty lady!" Angel bent over and folded is first pair arms on the table, "Congratulations on the new gig! Being Queen of Hell sure is a status boost!"

"Yeah, I still need time to process that," you admitted. "So Angel, can you umm, do me a favor?"

Angel stood up and slicked his hair back. "Oh, anything for the new member of the royal family! What can I do ya for, doll face?"

You let out a shaky breath. "Can you...how do I say this...cause some sort of distraction?" Angel raised an eyebrow. "I just need to take care of something real quick."

"Uh huh," Angel chuckled, "you need to take care of something? Or someone?~" You pursed your lips, a light blush dashed across your cheeks. You really should have known better than to try and tiptoe around your means of leaving with Angel. "That's what I thought. Don't think I didn't notice the King almost sprint out of here just now. Man is absolutely smitten with ya! But you'll get no judgement from me, baby, I know how it is! Consider this your wedding gift, I typically end up being the most distracting person wherever I go! How much time do you need?"

"Five minutes?"

"Oh honey, I think you're giving him way too much credit, especially considering the state he's in." Angel laughed, "I can give you three."

"Four."

"Deal," Angel stuck a hand out for you to shake. He was ready to turn away when he flashed you a wink. "Get ready!"

As soon as you heard Angel shout loud enough to grab everyone's attention, you got up from the table and followed Lucifer's path down the hall. Once you stood in front of the restroom door, you knocked on it three times just as you said you would. It took less than a second for the door to swing open and for Lucifer to pull you inside. He locked the door behind you and crashed his lips into yours. You pushed him up against the door as you slipped your tongue further into his mouth. He was devouring you as his hands gripped your hips.

"We don't have a lot of time," you said breathlessly, "we have four minutes."

"How did-HHNG," Lucifer wanted to question until you began to palm at his now very apparent erection through his pants again.

"Let's just say I owe Angel big time." You started to fumble with Lucifer's belt, pulling it off of his pants with a quick flick of your arm. Your hands worked at the button and zipper of his pants next, going almost too fast for you to properly hold anything. You gripped the hem of his pants and boxers and were about to pull them down together until Lucifer grabbed your wrists.

"Wait, wait! What about you?" he asked. Even in such a lust filled state, he still only ever thought about you. God, you really hit the jackpot.

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I appreciate it hon, but we really don't have the time to argue about this. Four minutes, remember? Probably closer to three now." You pulled your hands away from Lucifer's grip and went back to the hem of his pants, pulling down his boxers in the process, finally freeing his hardened cock that was already leaking precum. You placed your hands on either side of his hips, his back flush against the door. "You better tell me what you want quickly, Luci."

Lucifer gulped hard, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. "T-touch me...please...n-need you..."

Without another word, you moved to stand at Lucifer's side as your one hand gripped his shaft while the other cupped his mouth to keep him from making too much noise. "Shh, gotta be quiet, my love. You don't want the others to hear how your queen makes you feel." He nodded his head silently as you began to stroke him. You watched as precum dripped onto the floor below; it was obvious how pent up he was. You quickly picked you the pace as your hand moved up and down his cock, thumbing over the tip only for Lucifer to mewl into your hand and buck up into your touch. His breathing became more and more staggered by the second, he wasn't going to last much longer at this rate. But you knew you were running out of time and your hands alone were not going to be enough to finish the job. "Not a sound," you commanded as you released your hand from his mouth, dropping to your knees in an instant. Before Lucifer could protest, your mouth had already full engulfed his length. He threw his own hand over his mouth to muffle his screams as best he could. Your head bobbed up and down rapidly on his cock while stopping every few seconds to lap circles around his tip. He was close.

"F-Fuu-uuccckk," he whimpered, "I-I'm g-mmph...gonna c-cum...shitshitSHIT!" And almost on cue, you felt him empty himself inside you. Strings of hot cum hit that back of your throat while you continued to suck him off, helping him ride out his orgasm. Once he was finished, you let his now softened dick fall from your lips, not letting a single drop leave your mouth. You gracefully stood up and grabbed his belt that you had flung earlier and handed it to him.

"Feel better?" you whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

He turned his head to meet your lips once more. He always loved the taste of him on your mouth. "Immeasurably," Lucifer moaned into you.

"And only with a few seconds to spare!" Lucifer buckled his pants once more while you walked over to the sink and began soaking one of the wash cloths in cool water. You dabbed the towel on his forehead, attempting to cool him down. "Can't have you looking so disheveled, my king."

"I promise to make this up to you," Lucifer swore. "You should never be left unsatisfied."

You smiled and kissed him on the forehead sweetly. "My satisfaction is knowing I'm the only one who can pull those beautiful sounds out of you." Lucifer could help but look away from you in embarrassment. "Now, if you promise to behave for the rest of the party, let's just say I have a...proposition for you later tonight. I know exactly how you can pay me back." You unlocked the bathroom door and held it open for him. "Let's not keep our guests waiting!"

~~~

IT'S SO FUCKING LATE RIGHT NOW HOLY GOD I WAS ON A ROLL I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP! I hope you guys are ready for the honeymoon ;)

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#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #holy hell i just couldn't stop! #i think i beat my word count again haha #5100 WORDS LET'S GOOOO!!

[soupandsimple]

Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)

[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]

* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)

** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)

…………….

Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.

Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.

Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”

“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”

That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.

After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.

“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.

“I would have loved if you did.”

You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”

“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”

He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.

“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”

You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.

“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”

“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.

You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.

Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.

Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.

“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.

“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.

So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.

“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”

Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.

“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.

He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”

All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.

But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.

“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.

You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.

“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.

You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.

“You can’t do what?”

“Return to the real world.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”

“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”

You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.

“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.

“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.

As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.

He then finally spoke.

“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.

Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.

“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.

Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.

“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.

Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.

He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #neighbors to lovers #neighbor aaron hotchner

[sebscore]

MEET CUTE WITH THE GUY ON THE BUS | MICK S. 

pairing: mick schumacher x fem!reader

warnings: just fluff + i still dont know how to write endings so until i have figured that out, you are gonna have to deal with it :) 

author's note: based on this tiktok !! thought it was such a cute idea for a fic and mickolas was the perfect person for this- such a mama's boy!! 

masterlist

• • • • • • •

Sending telepathic messages to cute guys on the bus wasn't her usual routine, often staring out the large windows and observing the busy streets of the large city, but here she was.  

She took the bus regularly enough to know that the broad shouldered blond, who was showing his mother something on his phone, wasn't someone that took the public transport vehicle as much as she did.  

Y/N had been eyeing him the moment he stepped on, holding what she assumed was his mother's rather big and heavy handbag. 

Unfortunately for her, the young man wasn't glancing back at her. It wasn't a huge deal, she wasn't expecting him to get up from his seat and declare his undying love for her, but some sort of acknowledgement from the guy would have fed her delusions that would have her dreaming about him for at least a week. 

Her stop was getting nearby so she stationed herself closer to the exit doors, strongly grabbing onto the metal pole for stabilisation. The young woman increased the volume of her phone, the voice of Lana Del Rey blasting through her earphones. 

Y/N was deep into 'Cinnamon Girl', imagining herself to be in a music video, when a gentle tap on her shoulder made her turn around with force- flinching due to the sudden touch. Big blue orbs stared into her own eyes that had widened as a result of the surprising disturbance. 

It was the cute guy she had been shamelessly checking out from the moment he hopped on. 

''Uhm, can- oh.'' She had started speaking, but interrupted herself once she noticed him holding his phone out to her, his notes app displayed on the screen. 

You are beautiful. 

The mystery man had written out, a blush forming on his cheeks and ears as she read it, mouthing the words. Her eyes flickered from his phone back to him. ''Me?'' She took out her wired earphones, pausing her music. 

''Yes.'' He giggled, closing his phone and placing it back in his pocket. 

''Oh my- I thought you were so beautiful.'' Y/N replied back, getting a small squeal out of his mother who stood behind him. 

Her response had him grow shy, unable to form a processed answer back for her. However, the bus stopped and the doors opened. There was this tense air for a second that quickly disappeared once they realised they were getting off on the same stop. 

The three of them walked out of the bus, his mother staying a little behind her son- giving the flustered pair their space. 

The blond seemed too shy to tell her anything so Y/N took the first step. ''It was, uh, nice to meet you.'' In her head, this would be the end of their ''meet cute''. This is the part where they split and never see each other again- becoming a ''what if'' scenario. 

''Yeah, you too.'' He stuttered out. 

''Bye, have a nice day.'' She bid them goodbye, walking towards the direction of her home. The slightly disappointed woman put on her earphones again, re-starting her song- while texting her best friend about the interaction that just happened. 

Corinna bumped her shoulder with her son's. ''What are you doing, Mick? Go after her.'' She exclaimed, surprised he just stood still in his place. 

''I don't know, Mama.'' Mick doubted himself despite the obvious mutual infatuation with the young woman he had met. 

She grabbed her handbag from him and gave him a small, but effective push towards the girl. ''Go get her name and phone number! You're going to regret it otherwise.'' She hyped him up, knowing it would be a missed opportunity. 

Mick got a rush of adrenaline through his body as his mother gassed him up, chasing the woman down the street. He stopped in front of her, halting Y/N in her tracks and started speaking before the realisation of what he was doing caught up with him. ''Sorry, I just- can I have your name and maybe your phone number?'' He breathed out. 

The woman in front of him chuckled at his out-of-breath state. ''Yeah, I'm Y/N.'' She smiled, making him even more flustered. 

''I'm Mick.'' He introduced himself, shyly looking down at the ground. 

''So Mick, you want my number as well?'' His red face gave her a bit more confidence, asking the question with a grin on her face. 

He nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket. ''Only if you want to, of course.'' He added quickly, not wanting to come across as demanding. 

''I do.'' With her consent, Mick opened his contacts app and handed his phone over to her. She typed in her number, dubbing herself as 'Girl on the bus' on the display name. 

''Thank you,'' Mick dreamily looked at her contact details, ''I, uh, hope to see you again.'' He admitted. 

''Yeah, me too.'' Y/N beamed. She couldn't help but keep glancing at his face, his blue eyes practically asking to be admired. 

Corinna eventually caught up with them, giving her son a teasing look. ''It's very nice to meet you and hopefully, I'll see you soon.'' The older woman told Y/N, Mick's face turning even more red as his mother embarrassed him. 

''It's very nice to meet you too.'' 

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #f1 fluff #f1 x you #f1 imagines #mick schumacher

[i-care-bout-things-too]

Batfam Ages:

Okay, there is no such thing as an exact science when determining the ages of the Batfam, but the easiest thing you can do is work of the concrete ages that you /do/ know, and make them fit with canon events to the best of your ability. Now, canon changes all the time—which definitely makes this a challenge, but I’m going to just explain my process for determining their ages and you can disagree if you’d like, or you can use this to write fic like I do where ages are semi important,

Let’s begin. I’m going to give you the arbitrary number of 15, this will be important later.

Dick Grayson:

Depending on the canon, Dick is 8, 10, 12, or 15 when his parents die. All of these numbers will have problems depending on which you pick, but I go for the safe bet of 10 years old. Why? Well, a little known fact is that Dick ends up in juvie after his parents die, and he’s not immediately taken in by Batman. Thus, it takes a little while longer for him to become Robin, which doesn’t immediately happen after he becomes Bruce’s ward anyway, because Batman doesn’t immediately go and spill the beans. Thus, Dick ends up in Bruce’s car at around ten or eleven, but doesn’t become Robin until he’s 12.

Now Dick is Robin up until he’s about 18, when Bruce takes Robin from Dick because it’s too dangerous and Dick refuses to quit. Dick joins up with the teen titans full time, and he’s still Robin for a little while longer until we get Nightwing, aka Discowing, for the very first time at age 19. Simultaneously, while this is happening, a little kid is stealing the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason Todd:

Our beloved street rat Robin, Jason Todd, swings a tire iron at Batman and then gets taken out for fast food. It’s great, it’s cute, it doesn’t immediately lead to his adoption though, either. No, instead Jason ends up in an orphanage that is trafficking children. Bruce shows up one day to check up on Jason, and is made aware of this by his soon to be first adopted son (yeah, you heard me, Dick isn’t adopted yet). They take down the trafficking ring, and Bruce adopts Jason. Jason then becomes Robin at age 13.

Unfortunately for our boy, he was widely disliked by comic fans across North America, DC did a little telephone poll, and by a few hundred votes, DC changed comic history forever by killing off a high profile character what seems like /permanently/ for the first time ever. No resurrections this time. (Hah, right!). Which is to say, Jason Todd has the second shortest run as Robin at just two years, dying at age 15.

Tim Drake:

So then we get Robin numero 3. Tim Drake sees Batman getting darker and more violent and goes y’know, someone should do something about that. He tries talking to Nightwing, but he’s in a bad place with Bruce after learning Jason died via a Newspaper (yeah, Bruce sucks for that one), and tells Tim he won’t be going back to Robin. Thus, lil Timmy Drake gets an idea in his head. He looks himself in the mirror and goes, I can fix him, and then, Tim Drake becomes Robin at age 12.

Tim Drake has one of the longest runs as Robin, with only a mild interruption from a lil blond Bat.

Stephanie Brown:

Stephanie Brown starts off as the vigilante Spoiler, whose whole purpose in life is to spoil the plans of her C-list villain dad, Cluemaster. She meets Robin (Tim), hits him in the face with a brick, and then ends up dating him. Unlike most characters who appear a few times and never come back, Stephanie manages to stick around. She gets pregnant at age 15 (it’s not Tim’s, and no she did not cheat, this happened priorly), she gives birth, the baby is put up for adoption, and she becomes Robin after Tim’s dad, Jack Drake, finds out Tim is Robin and bans him from it. Tim is forced to quit and Stephanie picks up the mantle. She’s clocks in the shortest run as Robin, working with Batman for about two months before Bruce forces her to stop. Tim picks up the mantle again, and Steph goes back to being Spoiler—only to get killed by Black Mask, making her the second “Robin” to die. DC does retcon her death, and we later learn she was only badly beaten and sent off to live in a foreign country before she makes her return.

Jason Todd, Again:

While all this is going on, stuff is happening behind the scenes. Namely, Jason coming back to life. A common misconception here however is how long Jason was actually dead. While I wouldn’t be able to find the panels to confirm it, the true number is a “short” 6 months. Yep, while years passed in the real world, possibly decades, actually, Jason was dead all of 6 months. According to the books, he undigs himself from his grave six feet under (because Superboy punched through the multiverse or something?) and ends up wondering around Gotham as a mindless little zombie. Conveniently, Talia al Ghul stumbles upon her beloved’s lost little bird, and she decides to take him home and train him. He’s with them for a bit, gets dunked into a Lazarus pit, comes back very very angry, is shipped off to the all caste for a bit, and upon his return to the al Ghuls, is informed he’s been replaced by little Timmy Drake.

Jason makes his whole plan, and decides to make a splash by returning to Gotham wearing an old moniker of the Joker’s and taking over Gotham’s underworld. He beheads a few criminals, tries to kill Tim, tries to get Bruce to kill the Joker, and doesn’t really have success in those latter two objectives. That puts Jason at age 19, roughly. We don’t really know how to count the months he was dead.

Damian Wayne:

Shortly after Jason’s unmasking as the Red Hood, Damian Wayne turns 10 years old and beats his mother, Talia al Ghul, in combat. His prize is to be taken to his father and given to him for training. We know definitively that Damian is 10 thanks to this we can measure out the age gaps between the others and get their ages at this point in time. Dick at age 19 became Nightwing, while Jason is made Robin at age 13, so they have a six year age gap. Jason dying 2 years later at age 15 leads to Tim becoming Robin at age 12, they have a 3 year age gap. Tim is Robin for 3 years before Jason comes back and Damian trails after him a few months behind, putting Tim at around 16/17 while Damian is 10. I tend towards 16 instead of 17 because DC stopped aging Tim for a while, so it just makes more sense to pick the lower number. Thus, when Damian is 10, Tim is 16 as is Steph, Jason is 19, and Dick is 25.

Thanks to Damian being quite young, DC has kept an active track of how and when they age him. We know Damian is only with Bruce a few short months before he disappears into the time stream and Dick makes him Robin, and we also know that Damian’s 11th birthday is celebrated after Bruce is reinstated to the proper time. However, DC follows this up by killing Damian and making him the third Robin to die, the second to do so in the suit itself, and he’s dead for a significant number of months. In this time, Dick also dies—as in his heart is stopped by Lex Luthor for a few seconds, and then restarted, after his identity is revealed on live TV. Bruce decides to let the world believe Nightwing died and stayed dead, and Dick is sent off to Spyral to do secret spy stuff for Bruce. There is an issue around here in the “Grayson” run that claims Dick is twenty-one years old, which is ENTIRELY incompatible with the time line I just painstakingly established, and I go ahead and outright dismiss it because it clearly doesn’t work with a majority of canon. While Dick is with Spyral, Damian is brought back to life, and he goes on a year of redemption (which doesn’t actually last a whole year, but I digress). He and Dick meet again, and we move into Rebirth somewhere around here with the conclusion of Spyral and Batman and Robin Eternal.

General Events:

Damian turns 12 presumably sometime during rebirth, although not specified, I do believe Truth and Justice issue #6 to be his 12th or 13th birthday, but I lean towards 12 because of the costumes everyone wears in the issue. Steph is spoiler, Cass is Orphan, Tim is Red Robin, Red Hood has yet to don his solo Outlaw uniform, and Barbara is Batgirl.

I can’t name a specific issue for Damian’s 13th birthday, but it’s canonical that Damian turned 14 in his solo Robin series, Robin (2021) while he was off finding himself before the Lazarus Tournament, and since then, there’s been the Shadow War, Batman Vs Robin, Dark Crisis event somewhere around there, the Lazarus Planet event, Gotham War, DC Knight Terrors, and Beast World event, which catches us up to the modern day world.

Since Damian hasn’t yet turned 15 despite ALL of that going on, and is still for now at least, 14, that means Tim and Steph are 20, Jason is 23, and Dick is 29.

I know I mentioned Cass and Babs, and I would love to give you a proper age for them but I don’t know where to place them in DC canon like I do the others, however people do commonly place Cass roughly around the same age as Jason making her 22 or 23, and Babs tends towards being 6-8 years older than Dick, although that is an age gap DC has been slowly bridging over the years. Still, I put her at 35 years old. I don’t have a reference for Duke Thomas either, but he’s commonly placed as being two years younger than Tim making him 18 currently.

Lastly, I bring back the arbitrary number of 15, given that that is the number of years that separate Dick and Damian, I also use that age gap between Dick and Bruce—meaning that Bruce took Dick in when he was 25, and placing Bruce at 44 years old in main continuity.

Overall Ages Currently:

Bruce Wayne: 44

Barbara Gordon: 35

Dick Grayson: 29

Jason Todd: 23

Cassandra Cain: 22

Tim Drake: 20

Stephanie Brown: 20

Duke Thomas: 18

Damian Wayne: 14

#damian wayne #dc #dc comics #dc robin #damian al ghul #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #batfamily #batman and robin #batman #batfam #batgirl #red hood #red robin #the signal #orphan #spoiler #nightwing #timeline #ages #feel free to ask questions #i will answer #June’s stuff #June’s thoughts

[freyito]

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x ftm reader

★ summary: Gallagher has been the only one in your life to make you feel like a man. Even if you can mold and shape yourself in the Dreamscape, make yourself look and feel as Cis as you want, and yet, nothing has been able to fill the hole you feel within your very existence... aside from Gallagher. And now you can't find him. You can't find Gallagher. You can't find him.

✧ a/n: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!!! im gonna be writing a lot more x male readers and especially a lot more x ftm readers... i started this blog cause wherever i looked in whatever fandom i was in i never found many male readers... and especially barely any ftm ones... and it feels like i havent written any proper x m! reader fics in a while, soooo... we'll start here. i'll still write gn reader of course!!!! but i like lowkey haven't written much that matches my identity in a bit.

🗒 cw: ftm reader, 2.2 story spoilers, dysphoria like mad dysphoria, anxiety, depression, sensory overloard, grief (?), hurt/no comfort, proofread

✎ wc: 2.2k

The Dreamscape has been quiet lately. Even Golden Hour was quiet, silent, and whenever you looked to the sky, its brilliance had begun to dim. The Dreamflux Reef had always been quiet, too, and yet now, it was uncanny. Micah had been so aloof, answering your questions curtly, and Gallagher hadn’t even sent you a text. Every time you texted him, it never went through, as if he wasn’t in an area with service. Which was normally okay, you knew he had to be out on a job or something, but it had been a whole week and he hadn’t even come back to his bar. When you had asked anyone about Gallagher, they had given you this look like they didn’t know where your lost dog was… which isn’t exactly far from the truth, you suppose. But you could see some sort of guilt behind their eyes. And that made you uneasy.

Sure, he had gone weeks at a time without being with you, but he always sent texts, and most people knew where he was, especially the locals. His last text to you was an ‘I love you babyboy.’, which isn’t abnormal, he had a habit of texting you that specifically around five times a day. He had to drill it into your head. He always made sure you knew you were loved, especially by him. You were ‘something special’, as he said, ‘the best thing that ever happened to him’, ‘his pretty boy’, and the list goes on. But your phone remains eerily silent.

You can’t help but check it every other minute, wading through the crowds of Golden Hour, the last place you wanted to be right now. No one in Dreamflux Reef would give you a definitive answer, no one had seen him, or if they had, they gave you indecisive answers. He was out on a case, he was at the lounge, anything to get you off their backs. You had to admit, you were becoming increasingly nagging, annoying, even. But who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend had been gone a whole week with no trace of him, no communication, and you were starting to think the worst.

Golden Hour makes your head spin, looking under every literal rock you can find, getting any info you can from the most lucid strangers and even mumbling drunkards. You are desperate, any little bit of information you use. Even if they had just seen a man with brown hair or a man with hazel eyes. Of course, none lead you to Gallagher. And the Bloodhounds aren’t of any help either, they all stare at you with confused looks and some even tell you to stop playing around.

You’ve already given up, the hustle and bustle of Golden Hour making you feel even more hopeless, the feel of everyone's eyes on you, not fitting in, it all sinks in once more. You were better off putting up lost dog posters at that point. Was it possible for people to go missing in the dreamscape? You had no idea, but you were holding onto the hope that perhaps this was all some twisted nightmare that had crept into your head, but each step you took disproved that thought.

Perhaps reality will have answers, and while you feel so reluctant to wake up, to be seen once more. You had never met Gallagher out of the dreamscape, and only now did you realize what you could be getting yourself into. Perhaps he had just… left? After so many years? Surely not, right?

You return to reality, unsteady. Your body feels frail, even if you had been maintaining it properly. It feels odd to be back in reality, where suddenly how you look, how you talk, and your mannerisms all mattered. You had to act masculine, you had to shut up and walk tall, hyper aware of the eyes on you. Even if it only takes only a minute to get to the front desk, even if you know the guests will never recognize you in the dreamscape. You still can’t help but feel self-conscious, being able to hide behind the veil of the dreamscape for so long, now out in reality, feeling as if you were stripped bare for all to see. Which you weren’t, but perhaps your nerves were getting to you.

When you reach the front counter, your nerves don't abate. They only grow in size, the fear quickly creeping through your system. There was no guest named Gallagher, and you didn’t even know what room he had been staying in. They can’t tell you anything considering that you yourself aren’t the customer they are looking for. But the way they look at you just as the people in Golden Hour and Dreamflux Reef do tells you all.

Reluctantly, you make it back to your room. You don’t know if you want to go back to the Dreamscape, you’re already shook up as is. If something so dire could make you resurface from the vast, blissful ocean that was the Dreamscape, why would you go back? No sign of him for a week, reality or otherwise, and not a word from those closest to him. Do you really wish to go back? Where you know your current efforts have failed. Where that sinking feeling that you know he’s gone takes hold of you?

You stare at the dreampool for a second longer, trying your best to shove down your doubts and your fears, and sink back into the sweet allure of dreams, waking up once more in the Dreamflux Reef. You stay where you are for another minute, a place you’ve called home for several years, a place that would be filled with hearty laughter, maybe even the clinking of glasses, and smell like Gallagher’s mild cologne. That scent has dimmed recently, either because he hadn’t come home, or perhaps you were… used to it. His clothes were still strewn about on the bed, what he was going to wear the day after he had disappeared. You didn’t dare move them, not once, afraid of losing all the little things about him.

When you finally exit the house, the streets feel colder. It’s even quieter than before, and most residents look… somber. Perhaps they always looked that way, and you just didn’t know. You figure you’d try your luck with Micah again, either to get closure or just wallow with someone who was close to Gallagher, you are unsure.

You had done your best to ignore the… tower that seemed to breach out of nowhere in the Reef, despite how tall it had been and just how oddly enchanting it was. You, like many of the Penacony locals, didn’t enjoy change. To have something like that just simply grow out of the ground you knew when those Trailblazers came around was jarring. That had also been the day that Gallagher had stopped coming home, and the events that followed had made you so desperate to find him once more. This beautiful dream, torn asunder by some madman’s delusion of a grander, peaceful life. You never did like the family, you never liked Sunday.

On that note, Micah was nowhere to be seen, at least where you looked. Not all the way down in the alleys or by the train station, not in the dive bar playing pool, nowhere. You had no where but to ascend those damned stairs that faced towards a false moon. You didn’t want to, not at all. It wasn’t intimidating, but every time you lingered near it for too long, you felt uneasy. It had an air to it that spoke of danger, something that told you it ‘was not for you’. And here you were, stood in front of it and the three graves that paid homage to it.

The first step you take bathes you in a stillness unlike one you’ve ever felt. Tranquility follows as you continue to walk, the world is suddenly so quiet, the hustle and bustle of the Reef fades out, and you are left with blissful nothingness. The only sound that follows you is your steps. It isn’t so bad when you think about it, it’s comforting, in a way.

Micah is tending to the plants that surround a small little courtyard. He’s relaxed, untensed, and seems genuinely at peace. It’s been rare to see someone like that in recent days. When he hears you, he lifts his head and gives you a soft smile, one that reeks of pity, as if he knows what you are going to ask him.

“Micah–”

“I have no idea where Gallagher is,” Micah sighed, his smile faltering slightly. “Not a text, not a word.”

At this point, you knew people were lying to you. Micah’s reminder only makes you realize just how much people were. “I know that. Tell me what happened to him.”

Micah is taken aback by your blunt reaction, but easily gives in. The jig is up it seems, and he doesn’t fight back any longer. With a soft huff and slump of his shoulders, he sets aside his current task, turning his full attention towards you.

“Then we’re gonna have to sit down and talk. It’s a bit of a doozy.”

.  * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .

Your head spins with all the details. It’s all so confusing, Gallagher, being… fictional? The man you had fallen in love with was simply just a creation, not tangible, not real. What were you supposed to do with that information? All you had been doing for the past hour or so is staring at the wall. Your room is silent, as is all things now, dark and lonely. It’s suffocating. You feel empty, devoid of whatever was there, whatever had filled the hole in your heart, as cliche as it was.

A hollow home, a hollow heart, and not a soul to mend it. Those welcoming arms are no more, or perhaps, never were. And yet, his clothes still remain, his toothbrush and cologne and shampoo and everything else stay in the bathroom as if he were. If you spaced out long enough, you could still hear his hearty laughter, if you sink a little deeper into the pillows you can smell faint traces of his shampoo. Anything to hold onto what you love. Who you love.

You need to drown yourself in something before you lose your mind. You want to cry, and yet… you can’t. It is still all catching up to you. You wander around the house mindlessly, desperate for something to happen. Anything. But there is nothing. When you stop, there is null, a terrifying distance between you and the empty kitchen. You have to get out of here, you have to leave, this home is not yours anymore. It is simply a house.

Your feet bring you away from the Reef, finally, settling you in the Reverie. You follow a familiar path, one that you had walked on a particularly bad night, that had led you to the Dreamjolt Holstery. It was unwise of you to fall in love with the mixologist, but here you were, several years in, finding out he was quite literally made up.

Slowly, you take a seat at the bar, the lounge around you empty, dead. You have no idea where the bartender is, but you don’t care. This is the same seat you had taken that night. It was something you should’ve forgotten, really, such a minor detail that now felt all too big and meaningful to your heart. You can still remember what had torn you up, it was a particularly bad day, feeling too dysphoric, and no matter what you did, even in the Dreamscape, it had done nothing to affirm your identity more. So you sought out a drink, or a few, to wash down that bitter taste that plagued your taste buds all day. And there he was, a little disheveled as always, eyebags, gravelly voice, something about him just… washed over you as if he were a dream. Which, looking back, apparently he was. You remember fighting between two thoughts; wanting to be him, or wanting him. To be a man so… masculine, gruff, big and intimidating, something like that…

Your nostalgic daydream is broken by steps, and a figure above you. You look up, hoping that you’ll see the same scene once more, that Gallagher will shoot you a smile and a chuckle, ask you what’s got you down, but instead, it’s Siobhan. She looks down at you with a sympathetic smile, as if she knows exactly what you were thinking about. You can’t tell if you feel angry or sad, or neither. You simply push those feelings down.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asks, her voice even and calm as always.

You take a minute to think, unsure if you want something strong to keep you occupied or something that could serve as a tribute. Ultimately, you settle with…

“A glass of uh… The Big Sleep,” You can’t help but chuckle lightly at the name, even if the chuckle was devoid of joy. Siobhan doesn’t mention it, simply smiles and nods.

“... To the ghosts of the past?”

“Yeah… to the ghosts of the past.”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

#⁺◟freyito #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #gallagher x reader #gallagher hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #gallagher x male reader #gallagher hsr x male reader #hsr x ftm reader #honkai star rail x ftm reader #gallagher x ftm reader #gallagher hsr x ftm reader

[sdwolfpup]

More Joy Day 2024 is next week!

And I finally put together a real post about it. Progress!

What is More Joy Day? An explanation cribbed from my original post:

Years ago, I was reading the American Idol recaps over on Televisionwithoutpity.com and I came to this paragraph, written by the recapper Jacob:

Some dick cuts you off on the highway, and you give yourself the pass to be a dick to the next five customers, and your bad mood fades by lunchtime, and you forget the dick on the highway, you forget the color of his car, you forget how he was on the phone with his ex-wife, yelling about custody of their kids, and how he never meant to cut you off in the first place, he was just distracted. Your day continues as planned, and at lunch you check your websites and read a funny recap, and you maybe laugh out loud, and you go home and watch TV. But those five guys give themselves the pass to be dicks to the next five -- they're having a bad day, so it's okay just this once, and they're happy again by lunch -- and those twenty-five become six hundred twenty-five, and those six twenty-five become a million, and you've added to the sum total of anger in the world. But it works with love, too, and kindness. ... Your donation is something tangible, but what it means is something altogether more powerful, and it's that you continue to stand, and you continue to remember that you're not alone, and with reverence for this fact, you can't help but add to joy. Which is your entire job, from the day you're born until the day you die: more joy.

These times are desperately in need of joy, and it is incumbent on us to do our small part if we can, to send the ripples out into the world.

So every year since 2008, in the interest of spreading more joy, I’ve proposed that on a designated day in early January we each engage in one act, either online or physical space (or both!), which brings joy to another person, in the hopes that that person will spread that joy further, and exponentially onward.

This year's More Joy Day will be on Friday, January 12!

EVERYONE is welcome and encouraged to participate in even the smallest way! Some ideas of things we can do, fannish and otherwise:

Write a fic, make a podcast, make a vid, or make a fanart for someone.

Buy someone paid discord or tumblr or Dreamwidth time.

Leave someone a nice comment on their work.

Say something nice about someone.

Say something nice about something fannish you love and encourage squee.

Donate five dollars to the charity of someone's choice.

Send flowers to an online friend in a different city.

Buy someone you know a present.

Plant a tree or a flower in someone's honor and take a picture of it and post it.

When somebody cuts you off on the road, wish them well and hope they get where they’re going safely.

Make somebody a friendship bracelet. Or a construction paper heart.

Call someone you love and tell them so.

Buy someone lunch.

Give a stranger a compliment.

Put up a Zoom background celebrating the person you're talking to.

Or anything else you can think of! The sky's the limit.

Then on Friday, make a tumblr or DW post or tweet or skeet or snapchat or WHATEVER, saying what you've done (and/or a note that it's More Joy day), and that will hopefully help spread things further.

I look forward to sharing the joy with all of you!

#more joy day #mj day 2024 #please feel free to reblog widely

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Two - Backpack, Backpack

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Mentions of Bucky’s ‘Old Life’, talks about slight “Violence” (Bucky’s past), talks of a first aid kit, feeling “scared” about being a little, fluff! Obviously! 

Word Count - 2164

Note - I've finished all of Bub and Buck's story now, and I have to say it's been crazy going back and blending chapters/blurbs together to create a more cohesive story. It's been fun, and crazy, and honestly I missed this little place that I loved so much. Cafe BigNSmall is the beginning of so much, not just this account. It was the first little writing thing I put out that really got traction and that led me to where I am now. Going to school in January for creative writing, beginning the process of writing my own book. This little fic that has brough comfort to so many, myself included, is so much bigger than just a fanfiction or just a writing process and I'm so thankful for everyone who has stuck by my side, who has liked, reblogged, and sent asks about it. I love every one of you, I love who you've helped me become, and I've loved every minute of re-writing this series and I hope you love re-reading, or even reading it for the first time. I just have so so so much love in my heart for this and for you <3

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

Bucky sat at his same table for the umpteenth time, but this time he sat with a smile knowing someone was on their way to sit with him. For the first time in a while Bucky wasn’t sitting and watching everyone while feeling jealous, instead he watched as a Caregiver hugged their Little and felt hopeful that he might get to have that one day. 

“MR!” Y/n yelled from the entrance like she couldn’t believe he was there, sitting at their table ready for whatever she wished to do. “Hi!” She smiled at him when she got to the table, her usual overalls and t-shirt combo covered by a heavy sweater. He was happy she had covered up more than yesterday, the sky grey instead of blue, and the colder. 

“Hi.” He smiled back, Bucky was sure he looked goofy with how big his smile was but he didn’t care. “Chilly?” He asks as he watches them shiver slightly when the finally sit down. 

“Yeah.” Y/n tilts her head to the side as she seems to contemplate something. “I think ‘m gonna get a hot chocolate.” She rummages around her bag before finding her wallet and pulling out a five dollar bill. Bucky was quicker though, already on his feet and in the line. “What are you gonna get?” Y/n asks as she joins him in the line. 

“Well, I think I’m going to get a hot chocolate too.” He looks down at her, a silly grin on her face as she nods her head. “Their cake pops look good too.” Bucky points to the glass case full of baked goods and premade sandwiches. 

“I know!” Y/n practically jumps. “I had one once.” They frown. “But I never have enough moneys for one, maybe next week I’ll get one.” They nod their head, agreeing with their idea. 

Bucky already planned on buying Y/n a cake pop, but wanted to make sure she actually did like them. Finding out she’s only had one because she can’t afford them has him vowing to always buy her one whenever she’s here. 

The money Bucky got from the government after his treatment went public often sits in his bank account unused, he has what he needs, and most of what he wants, and he hates spending the money on useless things. Yet as he watches Y/n’s eyes flicker to the case full of sweet treats with a frown on their face he’s happy to know he finally has something, someone worth spending money on. 

“Hi, what can I get you today?” The barista smiles at Bucky, giving an extra sweet grin and a wave to Y/n. 

“Can I get two medium hot chocolates, please?” Bucky places his hand on Y/n’s shoulder to get her attention before asking. “What kind of cake pop do you want Bub?” 

“I can’t.” They shrug their shoulders, clearly not aware that Bucky’s already ordering for her. 

“I’m buying you one. Which one do you want, Bub?” He adds some clarification, leaning down slightly to be at Y/n’s height, pointing to the cake pops in the case. “I love vanilla, I think I’ll get a vanilla one.” He says, hoping that him getting one will make Y/n feel less nervous. 

She begins playing with her hands, twisting her fingers together, something Bucky’s noticed she does when anxious. “Um, I like chocolate.” She whispers, looking back at Bucky with weary eyes. “But I don’ wan’ you to buy it, I -” Bucky doesn’t let her finish her sentence, instead he stands and orders both cake pops before paying. 

With both hands on Bub’s shoulders he moves them over to the wait station. “When you’re with me I’ll be the one buying things, okay?” His tone is sweet but also somehow firm, hoping his words make sense and are final, but also hoping he doesn’t seem too overbearing. 

“Like a, like when.” Bub stumbled over her words before turning around to face Bucky, his hands dropping from her shoulders only for her to grab his left, glove covered, hand to fidget with it like she does hers. “Like a caregiver?” She asks, finally meeting Bucky’s glance. 

“Exactly like that.” Bucky nods. “I’ll act like your caregiver when we’re together, okay?” He regrets using the word ‘act’ the moment he says it, Y/n somberly nodding at his words. He wants to be her caregiver all the time, he doesn’t want to just act as one while around her, but he met her yesterday. Neither of them know each other well enough for that kind of trust, yet Bucky seems to feel like they both are on the same wavelength. Like they’ve waited long enough for someone to be their other, why wait a little longer. 

“I’d like tha’.” Y/n nods, turning back around in Bucky’s arms to wait for their cake pop and hot chocolate. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

For a whole week Bucky and Bub met up everyday, getting hot chocolate and cake pops. Y/n kept giving Bucky colouring pages to take home with her signature at the bottom, his fridge now covered in them after a frantic late night trip to buy magnets. Walking into his house and seeing the fridge coloured in pictures made him love the fact that he bought a huge fridge able to store at least another week's worth of pictures without having to remove anymore of the ones he’s already been given. 

“Hi, Mr!” Y/n smiled as she sat down on her booth seat, her backpack placed on the table as she got comfortable. “I made you something.” 

“You did?” Bucky unpackaged her cake pop and placed it on a napkin, sliding it over to her along with her hot chocolate. “Careful it’s hot.” Bucky warned as Bub went straight for her drink the moment it was in her line of sight. 

“Otay.” She blew a breath onto the cup, though Bucky wasn’t sure how helpful her hot puff of air would be in cooling it down, instead pulling it back to himself and blowing cold air on it for her. “Here.” She placed a piece of paper onto the table. 

This picture wasn’t one from a colouring book, but one on regular plain paper, drawn by Y/n and coloured by her to. Two figures stood hand in hand with a box of crayons in the middle. One person was obviously Bucky, the other Y/n. Even if he couldn’t tell Bub had written their names “Mr” and “Bub” below each of their persons. “I love it.” Bucky smiled, sliding the, now less hot, hot chocolate back to Y/n, her taking a sip immediately and humming in content. “I’ll have to put in on my fridge.” He said aloud, though he meant to keep the words to himself, not sure if it was wrong to admit he had grown attached to Y/n enough to want her pictures on his fridge. 

“Really?” Her usually playful voice grew serious, her eyes filled with tears. “My drawing?” 

“Yeah, Bub.” He smiled, glad she seemed happy over the idea. “I have a few of your drawings on my fridge already.” He admitted. Before he could place it in his bag Y/n was up and out of her seat sliding into Bucky’s booth before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Oh.” Bucky lets out a surprised sigh. 

“I like you, you nice.” Y/n said as she pulled away, though didn’t leave the booth. 

“You’re nice too, Bub.” Bucky said in disbelief. He knew the two of them were making good steps towards fully being comfortable around one another, Y/n seemed to slip further and further into regression, showing she felt safe around Bucky, and she had even asked him if he was the Winter Soldier and hadn't run when he said yes. But he hadn’t expected her to feel comfortable enough to hug him, yet he wasn’t going to argue or complain. 

Y/n eyed his bag for a minute or so before asking a question. “Wha’s in your bag?” She asked, this being the first time she had truly seen it. 

“I’ll show you what’s in my bag, if you show me what’s in yours?” He offered, having been wondering what she brought with her to the cafe everyday. “Deal?” He asked, and she perked up, agreeing before sliding out and back onto her seat, something Bucky frowned at. 

“Otay!” Bub squealed, opening her green backpack before digging around a little bit. The first thing she pulled out was a small zipper pouch, the fabric printed with frogs and plants. “This has m’ keys, an’ my phone.” She pulled both out, her phone being secured in a bag inside her bag making sense as to why it took her so long to find it when her alarm went off. “An’ it has my tic tacs in it! D’ you wan’ one?” She asked with a smile, holding out tropical tic tacs to Bucky. 

“I’m okay, but thank you Bub.” He smiled, proud of her manners and willingness to share her things. He knew he couldn't take credit for her good behaviour, or her manners. She was a sweet girl even if he didn’t remind her here and there of her manners, yet he was still extremely proud of her. 

“M’kay.” Bub nodded her head, popping a few tic tacs in her mouth before moving on. “Dis, um, dis is my frog.” Bub’s once very confident attitude dulled slightly as she brought the frog stuffie out, like she was waiting for someone to say something rude. 

“He’s very cute.” Bucky reassured her, his hand brushing against the stuffed animal's foot, his fur in perfect condition. “What’s his name?” 

Y/n still seemed on alert, but opened up a little more. “I call him Green Bean.” She pats his head. 

“That’s a perfect name.” Bucky chuckles, loving how creative his Bub is. “Where did you get his outfit?” He asks, referring to the knitted overalls and t-shirt, identical to Y/n’s everyday outfit. 

“I made dem!” Bucky was happy to see her peppy spark come back as she spoke about her stuffy. Giving him the rundown on how she made them, and made clothing for all her other stuffies at home. Then she gave him the rundown on a bunny stuffie she really wanted that was identical to the one she has at home. Though “He’s no’ the same Mr! He’s a different colour!” something Bucky quickly made a mental note of. 

Bub only had her wallet and a sweater stuffed at the bottom of her bag, and a small bag of long forgotten goldfish that Bucky immediately threw out left to show. “Your turn.” Y/n reminded Bucky, gesturing to his backpack. 

“Well.” He started, opening his bag, pulling out his wallet, keys and phone. “These are the things I have on me at all times.” He said, watching Y/n pick up his keys and fiddle with them, clearly loving his accumulated keychain and key combo from the last 100 years. “Then I have a First Aid Kit.” He pulls out a bulky box, a few things banging around inside. 

“In case someone ge’s hurt?” Y/n asks, concern dripping from her expressions. 

“Exactly.” Bucky answers, though he doesn’t admit that he mainly carries it out of fear that he’ll hurt someone and need to patch them up, but he hopes that Y/n’s just thinking about scrapes and small cuts and not the carnage he’s left behind. 

“Do you have princess bandaids?” She asks with all seriousness. 

“I have princess ones, paw patrol, and starwars.” He playful one ups her, the two of them laughing before he continues. “Then I have extra crayons, colouring pages, and a couple water bottles.” He pulls out the extra things, Y/n’s hands immediately going to the colouring pages. 

“Can I do this one, please?” She asks, bouncing in her seat, her frog underneath her arm. 

“Of course, Bub.” He smiles, the frog page she chose the one he printed off last night in the hopes to give it to her. 

After the small show and tell the two of them sat together eating their cake pops and drinking their hot chocolate. Everytime he looked up Bucky realised just how lucky he was, to have found a Little who was as chill as Bub was, and as sweet as she was too. He realised that while he wished he could have met her sooner, he was happy he waited. 

“Why don’t we go to the park tomorrow?” He asked, thinking it could be good for them to get out somewhere other than just the cafe. 

“Yes!” Y/n practically jumped out of her seat at the idea, the two of them chatting about how excited they were for their adventure tomorrow.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky #cafe bignsmall #bignsmall #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes age regression #little fic

[wispscribbles]

Mw3 spoilers (just a long personal ramble)

Hiii. So

As soon as the pre-release came out on, I hunted down spoilers, because I know myself and knew that if someone died and I got that information out of the blue, I wouldn’t take it well. Jokes on me, because I still haven’t been taking it well lol

I won’t talk about how Soap’s death was handled or the quality of the game. Plenty of smarter people are doing so.

I try not to talk a lot about myself and irl stuff on here, but will just say: I am very unwell, mentally. (Cue silence because that’s not surprising at all) Something I am very aware that I do, is that I latch onto fiction with my whole being, usually one specific character. For some reason, I always latch onto the character that ends up dead, usually in a way that make them only exist to further the motivations of other characters. It sucks.

So my hope for Soap has never been great, but for some reason I was still so shocked?? I don’t know, I tricked myself into thinking this time was different. Such an iconic character with so much good setup for great character development. I knew someone would die, but ow. To me, he was the element that made 141 seem more like family than coworkers. Soap’s interactions with the rest just livened up the games so much and made them all shine. Especially Ghost. Their dynamic, man.

Soap was the character that intrigued me enough to jump into the cod rabbit hole. It feels very hollow without him.

I keep telling myself that it’s silly to be so hurt over something fictional, and that I can just treat it as a mcd fanfic and move on, but nope. Brain’s stuck in the bad stuff. It’s a bad habit of mine to let something like this affect me so much, but well. Logic vs feeling and all that.

I really did find so much comfort in Soap this last year, that I severely needed. It feels a little like losing someone I know, someone who helped me through a rough time. I related to something in him and felt inspired. I only started writing after getting into ghostsoap, I started working out and I got back into art after a very long burnout. It may be fiction, but the impact is not.

So that was pretty much the worst case scenario of what mw3 could be to me. I always knew the risk, but, once again, ow. But there also seems to be plenty of good stuff in the game that I enjoy. I’m happy with the Ghost and Soap dialogue, the whole team working together and seeing Laswell and Farah and Alex and Nik. I hope I can be inspired by some of the new content once I’m calmer.

And I was worried they would ignore Ghost and Soap’s relationship after their development in mw2, but they genuinely seem to have gotten real close. It’s nice. I thought the shipping might scare the game devs into never having them appear in a scene together again, so that’s a plus.

Bottom line to all this is: I probably need a little break to get my head sorted. The grief is surprisingly real, it’s triggered some old stuff for me (haven’t been sleeping or eating, been stuck in some old thoughts). I’ll need to calm down and become a bit more normal about this again. Part of the grief isn’t so much about Soap himself, but also just the safe space that this account has been. The very nature of how the fandom is going to interact with Soap and Ghostsoap is going to change now, and man… I liked how it was, y’know? Could’ve used a little longer in that bubble. There’s going to be plenty of new fics and art, lovely stuff as always, but many of them will be tinged with grief, and I’m not in a place where that won’t break me a little.

I will hopefully come back to posting and making stuff once my brain settles down. I have so many drafts for fics and ideas that I hope I can return to. I’ve gotten so used to drawing these lads that I doubt I can stop tbh

The version of Soap that we love is already evolved from the games due to all the time and care the community has put into the character. The games may have killed him, but luckily, he’s fictional. We can do what we want, same as before.

I’m not even saying that I wish they hadn’t killed him. The games are crafting a story that fits their audience. It makes sense.

But I will choose to live in one of the many universes we’ve created for Soap, where he is alive and cared for, with a found family and a spooky lieutenant with a soft spot for him. Good for him.

Hope you’re all taking care of yourselves. RIP canon Soap (again). Thanks to Neil for a wonderful portrayal. And no matter where we go from here, thanks for a wonderful year of creating with you lovely folks. Seriously, some of the kindest people I’ve met in fandom. <3

Lastly: fuck you Kevin O’Reilly, but more importantly, sincerely thank you. (CallMeKevin video about mw2 got me into this mess. Otherwise I was keeping cod at an arm’s length, but he’s my fav youtuber, so I watched it. And here we are!)

#if u don’t wanna read: I’ll be taking a small break for mental health reasons but expect to be back and creating for this fandom again <3 #mw3 #mw3 spoilers #cod mwiii #mwiii spoilers #call of duty mwiii #ghostsoap #wispy update #always feel anxious posting anything emotional but feel like this one deserved a proper update #you’re all wonderful ppl ily #hopefully see you soon !

[g-xix]

okay but a coming and supporting ginge at his Sunday league fic?? like super close friends who have this first kiss after a match where he makes a really good save??? Would be so cute if you’re still looking for ginge!fic ideas 🫶🏻

Sunday League | AngryGinge13

THINGS TO KNOW -AngryGinge plays as a Goalkeeper in football -He's hot -I've never watched Sunday league in my life, idfk what im writing abt here.

-October, Autumn weather was steadily rolling in when your best mate Morgan had his football game over the weekend -"You coming to watch?" He asked, cheeks tinted pink as he dropped into the driver's seat besides you, fastening his seatbelt before looking at you for your answer -"You know I don't know much or really care about football that much?" You shivered, the car's seats feeling almost frozen despite the fact it was just Autumn. -Ginge noticed your coldness and plopped his jacket in your lap and put the car heaters on, before pulling out -You always had a little bit of a crush on your mate Morgan, and as he looked back- putting his arm around the back of your seat to check he road before pulling out, you felt yourself blushing at the way his biceps peeked from beneath his jersey, his fingers just close enough to brush your shoulder and send electricity racing down your skin -You'd only known one another for a couple years, but had definitely become close friends. -So close that you often wondered whether your hopes of it developing into something more were ridiculous. -"Well, I don't care if you don't know much about football," He shrugged, "I like having you there with me." His words brought a certain warm to your heart from their sweetness, and you could only feel yourself melting inside as he leaned over with a cheeky grin. "...Plus you're my lucky little lady- always save more goals when you're watching"

-That last line was what sold you- and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in a woolly scarf, beanie and even your gloves- the Autumnal chill too harsh for you to go out unprepared -It wasn't a massive game- just a Sunday league one, and you could walk down to the pitch and find a place to watch in there -You got there and wasn't expecting many people to actually be there watching, but there was a little queue outside the pitch which surprised you, considering you thought it was just a little Sunday League game -Turns out Strathon (neighbouring, and most competed) town's team was going to be playing against Morgan's team. -Little breakfast bar in the pavilion area was packed with lads getting their early pints going and people just basking in the warmth -You joined in the pavilion, blowing on your fingers and warming yourself up... -Your nose was bright red and stinging, along with your ears. Felt like bloody Winter. -As you ordered yourself a hot chocolate, you felt a weight drop onto your shoulders. -You wheeled around and spotted a grinning Morgan behind you, his arm draped around your shoulder, hands kitted in the keeper gloves -"See you arrived alright, pet." He gave your head a little pat with one of the gloves, flicking the fluffy bobble of your beanie -"Yeah, wouldn't miss it for... much." You answered slowly as intrusive thoughts slowed your thinking. Morgan just laughed, already knowing your reason -He looked damn good in his kit- flicking his head so his fringe fell back, chest large and puffed confidently as he punched his gloves together, clearly excited for himself

-You let him get down to the pitch and warm up, watching from the pavilion and walking down into the stands after a ten or so minutes when everyone started running to get to their seats -Despite not being a massive football fan, you were a bit nervous for Morgan. -For some reason, you really wanted to see him do well. And you hadn't seen him play before, especially not actually trying hard before, so you were praying for him to pull out a masterclass.

-And by god by half time were you on edge. -Surprisingly, for someone who was generally uninterested in football, the tense atmosphere had you stood up the majority of the match -Morgan had been working hard in goal, some of his saves having you screaming as every time your heartrate shot up, fearful of Morgan missing. -Clearly though Morgan could hear your excited yells from pitchside, as he clearly let out a laugh each time he caught the ball or punched it away- his eyes drifting just slightly left to try catch a glimpse of your ecstatic face before kicking the ball out again -So far, Morgan hadn't let any goals in either- the score a solid 0-0. -That did however mean you were bricking it for the second half. -Second half, your heartrate was above 80 for much of the game. -And you couldn't help but admire how good Morgan looked (which only had your heartrate going higher) -His fringe was messy and spiked about his head, and the developed muscle definition on his legs did have you feeling a bit feral in the stands -Somehow you managed to calm your nasty thoughts down and focus on the game, though, instead settling for bricking the second half. -You watched as Morgan booted the ball down pitch, one of the forwards controlling it and making a break through the defence line- getting you up and out of your seat, face pressed in your mittened hands in suspense as you watched the forwards do his thing and swing his leg back before... -Yells and cheers were heard as you and the rest of your row all got onto you feet, celebrating the forwards that'd been scored, as well as Morgan, who'd set it up in the first place. (Though it might've just been you who was cheering for Morgan, there) -Your head flicked back to Morgan in goal and you watched as his he let out a victorious yell of his own, patting his mate on the back before looking out into the crowd- his eyes scanning the crowd before they found your own, as indicated by the grin that lit up on his face, his eyes sparkling even brighter as he pointed with the gloved finger straight at you- a little shoutout to his unofficial-but-both-of-you-wanted- WAG. -And it was clear you were passionate for Morgan when one of the defenders got in Morgan's way and ended up letting Salford let a goal in- Morgan could hear you yell WANKER from the stands despite the uproar from both sides of the crowd and the rest of the pitch's yells. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle at being able to hear you despite the slight annoyance of conceding a goal.

-The full 90 minutes had elapsed and still your heart rate was through the roof, as the ref blew the whistle and it was decided- penalties were going to be taken. -The opposition took the first penalty... And Morgan's fingers brushed it, only just letting it in. -But luckily, your town scored one as well. -The next one also went in, and Morgan yelled a curse out, your heart thumping in your chest in fear. -And you were thanking God as the next ball went in, as your town scored once more -You coudn't help but admire Morgan in goal, sizing up the opposition as he waited for them to shoot. Morgan just looked so good, hitting his gloved hands together and bouncing from side to side, all too good looking in his kit -All admiring was cut short as you watched the shooter take his run up though, striking the ball and sending it mid-left... -Morgan caught the ball, pulling it tight to his chest and skidding to the side as he saved the pen, a scream leaving your throat along with the rest of your stand as you all cheered the save, watching Morgan let out a yell of his own, completely high on the adrenaline as he rolled the ball out and jumped, looking back to your stand -His head moved bit by bit slowly until he found you in the stands, the grin lighting up on his face once more as he found you- lifting his hands and signing the love symbol as best he could with his gloved hand, making your heart swell a bit as you felt your cheeks blush a bright pink, making heart hands at him before crouching down behind the people in front of you so that he didn't see how bright your cheeks were glowing (and only glowing brighter by the second) -You had your fingers crossed behind your back as you watched your team take the third penalty, the same forwards that had scored earlier took the run up, striking the ball hard and sending it up right... and crashing past the goalie's fingers and into the net behind.

-Screams filled your stands as the front few rows began jumping over the wall to go and join the winning team on the pitch- the bustle around you sending you forwards also, leaving you no choice but to get up and onto the pitch as well. -"Y/NNNN!" You heard your name yelled happily, before feeling a great force run into you -Morgan's arms wrapped around your waist, picking you right up as you squealed happily, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning into his body whilst he gave you a joyous spin, his heat radiating through the thin kit and warming you up greatly also, the hug slightly sweaty from Morgan's playing, though neither of you cared -"You were bloody brilliant!" You exclaimed as Morgan placed you back on the floor, getting up onto the tips of the toes to place a little kiss against his cheek whilst your arms were still wrapped around one another -You took your arms off Morgan's shoulders, one of Morgan's hands leaving your waist and coming up to his face to touch the place where your lips had left a kiss against his cheek. You could feel a blush rising to your cheek as Morgan paused completely to acknowledge the kiss, whilst his other arm still remained around your waist- his eyes looking off into the distance as if completely zoned out. -"I played great?" He repeated, and you could see a little grin start forming on his face as his eyes came back into focus before meeting yours, the cheeky grin now fully formed on his face as he tapped his lips with a gloved finger. "Surely I deserve a bit more for that then..." -"What, you want a proper snog?" You joked, though you could feel your heart lurch into your throat, almost making you choke up as you felt a nervousness wash over you. It wasn't quite clear whether Morgan was just giving friendly banter at this point or genuinely trying for something... -"Only if it's from you," He shrugged with the grin still plastered on his face, though he broke eye contact to look to the ground almost as though he were nervous, himself. -Fuck it. -You got back onto the tips of your toes, one hand resting on his cheek to pull his face down to yours so that you could press your lips onto his own firmly... before pulling away approximately after a millisecond of contact. -Morgan's eyes fluttered open. -"What, that's all?" -"You want more? You fucking initiate it then, it's nerve-wracking, you know?" -"Fine!" -THERE. Morgan got that great big snog he was looking for. -His arm snaked around your shoulders, holding you possessively as his lips met yours, fireworks fizzing and exploding in your stomach and making your heart thump even harder than it was at the start of the second half. You were sure he could taste the coffee and cocoa butter on your lips as well, as it felt almost as though he were chasing something- the way his lips moved on top of yours so passionately. -"GOWARN MORGAN!" The cheers from his teammates were what broke the kiss up, your lips detaching from his as you let out a laugh, burying your head into the crook of his neck, nose warming against his body- hot from the adrenaline of kissing and football. You could feel Morgan's body shake slightly as he was slapped on the back by his teammates, shouting a variety of other praises and cheering for him for "Finally getting some..." -You personally? -Couldn't be more grateful for the fact you'd come to watch the match and were now in the arms of your first kiss.

BONUS SCENE!

You waited by the car, taking a sip of your gingerbread latte and checking the time on your watch. It'd been almost a whole forty minutes since Morgan had said he'd be out the changing room in a sec, and had given you enough time to get through three peanut butter cookies from the pavilion and two hot drinks.

It had been courteous of him to offer to drive you back, especially after your little moment on the pitch (which still had you smiling giddily and blushing when you thought about it), but you were half considering just walking home, when-

"SORRY, I didn't mean to take that long!" The back door of the changing rooms leading into the car park swung open, as a dishevelled looking Morgan flipped his head, flicking his fringe out of his head as he jogged over to you and the car.

"Yeah, you took your time," You responded, opening the passenger seat door as Morgan opened the car, chucking his duffel bag in the boot and plopping his ass in the driver's seat.

The car wobbled a bit as the two of you sat down, and as you reached over to put the radio on- Morgan leaned back to grab his seatbelt when something shiny fell out of his pocket.

"Oh shoot, you dropped-"

You held up the four or so shiny packets that'd fallen out of his pocket.

TROJAN CONDOMS XL STIMULATION WHERE IT COUNTS-

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" You exclaimed, dropping them back down and rushing to unbuckle your seatbelt, jaw dropped whilst Morgan scrambled to pick the other three up and shouted "NONONONO-"

"THEY'RE NOT MINE, I PROMISE, PLEASE JUST REALISE-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE NOT YOURS, ARE THEY FUCKING USED?!"

"YES- I MEAN- NO, NO OF COURSE THEY HAVEN'T BEEN USED-"

"wHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THSOE RIGHT NOW?!"

"I CAN EXPLAIN-"

"ARE THEY MEANT TO BE FOR US?!"

You looked past Morgan as saw the rest of the team exiting the locker rooms, patting one another on the back as they said goodbye- one of the players spotting Morgan and yourself in the car- his face stretching in a cheeky grin as he pointed at the two of youse, drawing attention from the other boys as he yelled:

"USE 'EM WELL, EH MORGAN?" He passed a wink on to you as well, making you groan and slide down your car seat in embarrassment, hands pressed over your face as Morgan tried not to cringe too hard himself.

"Yeah, they were the ones that gave it," Morgan explained wearily, rubbing his face with a hand of his own as he tried not to make eye contact with the others outside the car.

"It was only a kiss, anyways..."

"Yeah well, that's what The Killers said as well and look how that ended up."

You couldn't help but deadpan up at Morgan whilst he tried not to burst out laughing at what he thought was god-tier comedy.

And as if it couldn't get any worse, his phone was connected to the car's sound system-

"OI BIXBY, play Mr Brightside on Spotify!"

Hearing those starting chords from the car's tinny radio system drew a second groan from you as you sunk even further into your seat, much to Morgan's amusement as he cackled and pat your head.

"Get used to the shitty jokes, love, I'm taking you out for dinner tonight for a first date so you better start liking me sooner or later..."

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WELLLL IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE WE'VE SEEN SOME ANGRY GINGE CONTENT HA'NT IT??!! Much love n hoping everyone enjoyed bc i LOVE LOVE LOVE a little bit of autumn fanfiction it's such a cute lil vibe teehee

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#angryginge13 #angryginge #angry ginge #morgan burtwistle #fluff #oneshot #youtube #youtuber #twitch #twitch streamer #sidemen #danny aarons #aanny daarons #wroetoshaw #ksi #tobjizzle #zerkaa #miniminter

[fangirlwriting-stories]

First Blood

Summary: Danny should have expected that he wouldn't be able to do this ghost fighting thing by himself forever. Though admittedly, he didn't expect things to go quite like this.

Author's Note:

My brain: Hey you should write a Danny Phantom AU

Me: Wtf? Why?

My brain: I wanna

Me:

Anyway I do partly blame this fic on AO3 by artistfingers for giving me the inspiration.

…

He’d meant to tell them, was the thing.  It was entirely a coincidence that they weren’t there when it happened in the first place.

Sam had been the one to first have the idea of checking out the ghost zone, even if Danny had been desperately curious before that too.  But she’d been the one to convince him to try it, and he’d even gotten into the suit his parents had designated for this purpose (thankfully with a thought from Sam to pull his Dad’s face off his chest), but before he could actually go in the portal and turn it on, Sam’s parents showed up and dragged her and Tucker home.

They had never been the biggest fans of Danny or his parents, and weren’t super happy when they learned Sam was there.  Tucker had tried to protest against getting dragged along, but Sam’s parents kind of had a presence you couldn’t stand up to for very long, so they’d both left eventually.

But Danny was only more desperately curious after almost going in, and he couldn’t know when his parents would both be out like this again.  So, he’d gone back an hour later and turned the portal on.  And then…

Well.

Then he’d started trying to come up with a way to say “hey guys I’m sort of half ghost now” without sounding like a total lunatic.

And then the ghost fights had started, and Danny Phantom became well known before Danny Fenton could come up with a way to explain it to them.  And then he didn’t want them to get hurt.  The fights were hard enough on him, and he had superpowers.

He’s… definitely regretting that decision now.  He should have known eventually he’d come across something he couldn’t defeat on his own, for one reason or another.  But he’d always assumed if that came up it would be a ghost that was just too powerful, and he could ask someone for help.  Hard to do that when the problem is an evil but human ringmaster with a ghost-controlling crystal ball.  Admittedly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

He’s not quite sure what’s going on when he comes to, but the crystal ball is shattered in pieces at his feet and the other ghosts he’s become familiar with are blinking in the space across from him.  Freakshow himself is in between them all, staring at the crystal ball like he’s trying to process what’s happening.

Danny’s doing the same thing.  This isn’t Amity Park, that’s clear enough, but he doesn’t know where he is.  He doesn’t know what’s just happened, though he has a vague memory of an overwhelming sense of anger giving him enough force to throw the crystal ball to the ground.

“You know,” Freakshow says, looking up with a terrified grin.  “When I called you, uh, ‘minions,’ it was really a term of endearment, like, ‘Oh, I love my minions!’”

Danny scoffs, meets eyes with the other ghosts, and finds them in agreement.

They drag Freakshow to the haul he’s made them all put together, call the cops, and fly off into the night.

But while the three of them go who-knows-where, Danny changes forms and heads for a grocery store or a gas station, any place where he can find a newspaper and hopefully figure out the date or his location.  Preferably both.

…It’s been weeks.  It’s been weeks and he’s halfway across the country.

Danny sits on the ground outside of the gas station and drops his head in his hands.  The homework alone is going to be a nightmare.

His stomach growls.  He’s been in his ghost form for who knows how long, and it’s probably been just as long since he ate, but he doesn’t have any money on him.

So, in a move he’s not exactly proud of, he steals a couple apples and bags of chips from the gas station and practically inhales them.  He sits on a bench for another hour or so before he realizes he probably can’t put off the inevitable anymore.

He switches forms again and starts flying home.

He’s pretty fast at this point, so it takes him no more than a couple hours to get there, but he has no idea what he’ll find when he arrives.  The past couple weeks get blurrier the closer the time gets to the present, but he has the feeling he’s done some bad stuff.  He doesn’t know what his public image in Amity Park is anymore, but he has an inkling it’s not exactly great.

And that’s just the Phantom side of things.  He’s going to have to deal with the Fenton side first, and that almost sounds worse.

First, however, he’s exhausted, and still hungry, and he can’t deal with this tonight.  So he resigns himself to worrying everyone for one more night, grabs some stuff from the fridge, and flies silently up to his bedroom.  He eats handfuls of whatever food he grabbed with his back to the door, and then leans back against it and breathes, taking in the feeling of at least being home.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem he’s going to get even a night of reprieve, because the next second someone bangs on the door he’s leaning against, and he splays forward on the ground with a surprised yelp.

He turns to see Jazz forcing the door open.  She freezes when she sees Danny, and for a couple seconds, they stare at each other.

“Uh,” Danny says.  “Hi?”

Jazz blinks.  “Hi?”

Danny swallows.  “Yeah?”

Jazz balls her hands into fists and glares at him.  “Where have you been?”

“Um.”

Jazz buries her hands in her hair and pulls on it, giving a frustrated scream.  “Danny!  Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?”

“Sorry,” Danny mutters, not sure what else to say.  He still has no idea what’s happened the past few weeks.

Jazz runs her hands over her hair, smoothing it down, and takes a deep breath.  Then she kneels down and pulls Danny into a crushing hug.

“Why would you run away like that?” Jazz says, but there’s something else in her voice, like she’s trying to get at something.  “Are you okay?  Are you hurt?  Do you want to—” she pulls back, and looks Danny in the eyes with a very pointed expression.  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, her voice suddenly very soft and gentle.

Danny stares at her for a second, not sure where the sudden shifting emotions from her came from.  Either way, he shakes his head.  He doesn’t even know what he’d say.  He’s going to have to come up with some kind of story, but how is he supposed to do that without contradicting something he doesn’t remember happening?

“Are you sure?” Jazz says, still looking at him intentionally, and Danny does not understand what she’s trying to say.  He’ll blame the exhaustion and brain fog.

Jazz sighs, and pulls him back into a hug.  “Okay.  But you’re going to have to explain to Mom and Dad why you’ve been missing for weeks.  Uh… for exactly three weeks and four days, as we both know very well of course.  And you’ll also have to explain why no one knows anything at all about where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing— as far as I know that is.”

Danny pulls back and gives her a baffled look.  “Why are you talking like that?”

“Excuse me!  You’re the one who runs away for, just to reiterate, exactly three weeks and four days to an unknown location, and you’re asking me why I’m being weird?”

Danny stares at her.  “Uh, I mean I kind of am now?”

“I can’t believe you!” Jazz exclaims, waving her arms up without actually looking that exasperated.  Then she leans forward and wraps her arms around Danny again.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” she whispers, with a suspicious sniff that Danny doesn’t acknowledge.  “Please don’t scare me like that again.”

Danny reaches up and wraps his arms weakly around her.  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, which is all he can say, because he can’t exactly guarantee that nothing like this will happen again, can he?

For a minute, they both just sit there, and Danny tries to ignore how good it feels to be hugged by his sister, because that’s a totally lame realization to have, and he doesn’t need any more reasons for people to beat him up.

But then another familiar voice comes from behind them.

“Jazz?  What are you doing up—”

Danny jerks around and meets eyes with his mother, who stares wide-eyed back at him.

After a second, she turns and screams, “JACK!” then rushes forward and pulls Danny towards her.

“Are you okay?  Are you hurt?”  She takes his face in her hands, turning it back and forth.  “What were you thinking, you’re grounded for a month!  You look terrible, when did you eat last?  When did you shower?  Do you have any idea how worried sick we were?  I’m never letting you out of my sight again!  Was it ghosts?  What can you tell us about them?”

Danny laughs despite himself.  His mom is being so incredibly normal (well, normal by her standards) that it immediately brushes away quite a few of his worries.

Then he remembers what his best option for a cover story is, and his smile fades.  His dad shows up in the doorway a second later, looking half-asleep.

“It… it wasn’t ghosts, Mom,” he says, and at least that part is true, if misleading.  “I just… I’m sorry.”

His mom presses a hand to her forehead, looking like Danny’s taken about ten years off her life.  “You’re grounded for two months,” she amends.  “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Danny says, which is also true, if… also misleading.

“You got that right,” his dad said, putting his hands on his hips in what looked like his best impression of a stern father.  “You’re grounded for three months, mister.”

“That’s just going to keep going up, isn’t it,” Danny says with a sigh.

Jazz reaches over and gives him a side hug and a sympathetic smile, and Danny really isn’t sure what’s going on with her right now.

But honestly, for the moment, he’s just glad to be home.

…

Danny still isn’t quite sure how he manages to get out of giving any details to the police, but he does it.  He’s given back to his parents to decide his punishment, meaning he’s confined to house arrest for the next five months (it did keep going up).  That’s going to make ghost hunting a little bit difficult, but he’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it.

The one exception to grounding, obviously, is school, which Danny is equal parts dreading and looking forward to.  It was a Saturday when he got back, and of course Sam and Tucker know he’s returned, but he hasn’t gotten to see either of them.  He doubts he’ll be able to see them much outside of school or the occasional study party.

Stupid Freakshow.  This is going to ruin his life until Christmas.

Either way, Monday comes.  And Danny walks into the school and over to his locker and tries to ignore everyone staring at him.

A loud bang at his left causes him to jump and turn to see Sam leaning against the lockers, looking none too pleased.

“So,” she says.  “Have you finally decided the rest of us are worthy of your presence again?”

“Come on, Sam,” Tucker says, walking up behind her.  “You said you weren’t gonna be like that.”

“Sorry, he just screws off to nowhere and you expect me to not be upset?” Sam asks with a glare at Tucker before turning back around.  “Honestly Danny, you know I’m all for escaping awful parents, but you didn’t even tell us where you were going!  We didn’t know if you were okay!”

“My parents aren’t awful,” Danny mutters as he looks down at his feet, all he can think to say.

“Then why did you leave?” Sam snaps, leaning into his face.

Danny winces, leaning back.  “Do we have to do this out here in the hallway?”

Sam huffs, standing up straight and glaring away.  “Fine.  Whatever.  I’m going to class.”  She stalks off without another word.

Danny sighs and turns to his locker so he can put the textbooks he needs into his backpack.  It’s not his fault, and he knows that, but he still feels like the worst person on the face of the planet for making them worry.

“So…” Tucker says slowly, leaning back against the locker much less angrily than Sam.  “Why did you leave?”

Danny closes his locker and swings his bag over his shoulder.  “Doesn’t matter.  I’m back, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, except it kind of does, though?  Dude, if you feel like leaving again, I want to help you.”

Danny turns to look at him and sees nothing but honest concern in Tucker’s eyes.

He wishes it was that easy.

“You can’t,” he says.

“Why not?”

“It’s not—” Danny sighs, looking around to make sure no one’s listening.

Everyone is listening.

“Not here,” he says, turning back to Tucker.  “And not now.”

Tucker looks at him for another second.  “Okay,” he says finally.  “But don’t think I’m letting up on this.”

Danny smiles just a little bit.  “I know you’re not,” he says.

The warning bell rings.

“I have to go,” Danny says.  “If I cut first period on my first day back after running away, I think my parents will actually kill me.”

Tucker smirks.  “Sounds like you brought that one on yourself, dude,” he says.  “But sure.  See ya at lunch.”

“See ya,” Danny says, and turns to walk the other way.

The day is about what he expects.  Mocking and socks in the stomach from Dash, dry remarks and glares along with piles of makeup work from teachers.  He’s exhausted, but he deals with all of it and prepares to work through it until things are at least marginally back to normal.

He can’t wait for Sam and Tucker to not be mad at him.  That would help a ton.

There doesn’t seem to be much of a chance of that when lunch arrives, however, because Sam starts glaring at him the second he sits down, and Tucker just gives him that same concerned look that Danny is pretty sure he can’t make go away without spilling his guts.

…Well, not that “hey Tucker I was actually being mind controlled by that ringmaster from Circus Gothica” would make him less concerned.  If he believed him in the first place, that is.

Danny doesn’t know what to say to break the awkward silence, but apparently Sam has that covered.

“So, Tucker,” she says, very loudly.  “Are we still on for Nasty Burger after school?”

Ouch.  Fair enough.

“Uh,” Tucker says, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Maybe that’s not such a great idea anymore?”

“Why?  Are we supposed to drop our plans the second Danny decides to stop being childish?”

“Okay,” Danny says, turning to face her.  He’s positive he doesn’t have the energy to deal with an angry Sam for the weeks it takes her to forgive him.  “What do you want me to say to you, Sam?”

Sam turns her glare on him.  “I want you to tell me why on earth you left with no notice of when you’d be back or whether or not you were okay or why you were leaving,” she snaps.  “Why the fuck would you do that to us?”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Danny says, looking down as guilt stabs him in the chest.  “I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean you weren’t trying to?  What were you trying to do?”

“I don’t know,” Danny says, because it’s true.  He doesn’t really remember the exact specifics of when and where and why he left Amity Park with Freakshow.  He is pretty sure he wasn’t around as Danny Fenton for at least a couple days before that, though, meaning Jazz’s random ‘three weeks and four days’ comment was probably more accurate than the one he’d worked out from the newspaper.

“I really don’t know what I was thinking,” he reiterates, forcing himself to turn and look at Sam.  “I don’t know what else to say.  I’m sorry.”

He watches anger and concern and something else war on Sam’s face for a second before she scoffs and glares away.  “You’re really not going to tell us what happened?” she asks.

“I… don’t know if you’d believe me,” Danny says quietly, looking down at his awful school lunch that is leagues better than the almost nothing he’s probably eaten the past couple weeks.

Sam gives a bitter laugh, shaking her head.  “Oh my god.”

“Sam,” Tucker says, narrowing his eyes at her.

“What?” Sam asks, turning her glare to him again.  “Are you trying to pretend you haven’t spent the last three weeks terrified out of your mind too?”

Danny fights to not hunch over on himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead, turning to look at Sam.  “I really am.  I didn’t want to scare you.  I’m sorry.”

Sam looks at him firmly for a long second, and she must see something in his face that makes her believe him, because she stabs at the limp broccoli on her tray without looking at it and says, “You gonna do it again?”

Danny shakes his head and prays to whatever’s out there listening that he’s not lying right now.  If Desiree was around, he might even make a wish on it.

Sam seems to accept that at least a little bit.  She turns and takes a bite of her vegetables.  “If you do I’ll murder you,” she says.

You’re a couple months late for that, Danny doesn’t say.  Instead he just nods.

“So,” Tucker says, drawing both of their attentions with a much more easygoing smile on his face.  “I imagine you’ve got a lot of homework to make up, Danny.  You want to move our hangouts to after school while you’re doing that at least?”

Danny smiles gratefully at him, and Sam sighs and mutters, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

So that’s where they end up, and Danny immediately appreciates how almost-normal it feels.  One of the last clear memories he has before things start getting fuzzy is studying in the same library with Sam and Tucker, so in a way it feels like picking up where he left off— with some unwelcome tension added to the air.

Danny spends the first half hour or so doing homework while Tucker and Sam talk idly next to him about things they’ve done in the past three weeks that he’s apparently missed out on.  Unlike lunch, there’s no anger involved, just awkwardness and hesitation, which is… better, he supposes.

Finally after an hour, when he’s only finished a tiny bit of homework for one of his classes, he sits back in his chair and massages his temples.  “This is gonna take me a month.”

“Well, you did miss almost a month of work,” Sam says, with a not-very-sympathetic smile.  “You don’t really have anyone to blame but yourself.”

“I’m gonna get so tired of that sentiment,” Danny says, dropping his head into an open textbook.

“It’s true.”

“I know,” Danny mutters without lifting his head.

“Did you at least have fun while you were on your runaway vacation?” Tucker asks.

Danny pulls his head up and finds Tucker now leaning on the table in front of him.

“No,” he says, because he’s sick of lying.

Tucker winces.  “Ouch.”

Sam snorts.  “Serves you right.”

“Sam,” Tucker says, at the same time Danny waves her off with “I know, I know, I get it.”

Sam sighs, and pushes herself up on the table.  “Alright, look.  You should probably lie low for the first month or two.  But when your parents eventually stop watching you closer I can help you sneak out for a little fun from time to time.”

Danny gives her a grateful smile.  “Thanks, Sam.”

“Yeah, yeah.  You owe me one.”

“I already owe you one,” Danny says.

“You got that right,” Sam says, crossing her arms with a smirk.  She probably thinks he means her forgiving him so quickly.  He doesn’t.

They don’t stay much longer, because the hour after school in the library is the only time his parents gave him before he has to go home.

As soon as he gets a free moment, when his parents are busy making dinner, he sneaks downstairs and looks up Danny Phantom on the computer.

Just as he expected, it’s not great.  Most of the things it lists Phantom as doing are robberies and property damage, about what he expects.  But there’s also quite a few mentions of him being cruel to the other ghosts in Freakshow’s circus, and he… cannot figure out how he feels about that.

Fighting ghosts is nothing new, obviously.  But the ghosts in Freakshow’s circus didn’t choose to be there.  He didn’t choose to hurt them either, but he still feels kind of uncomfortable with it, with the idea that it happened and he doesn’t even remember it.

“Danny?”

Danny yelps and closes the window on the computer, spinning around to see Jazz standing there.

“Jazz,” he says weakly.  “I uh, I didn’t hear you come down here.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Jazz says, giving him a look he can’t read.

She looks at the computer, and it’s way too obvious she saw what he was looking at.

“You know,” she says, turning back to him.  “Unless you’re just catching up on the ghost fighting from the past couple weeks, I wouldn’t put too much thought into Phantom.”

Danny blinks.  “Uh, why?”

Jazz rolls her eyes.  “He was so obviously under the control of that Freakshow guy,” she says.  “Don’t you think?”

“What?” Danny stares at her.  “How would you know that?”

Jazz gives him a soft smile and leans forward to kiss the top of his head.  “Just a hunch I have,” she says.

“Gross, get off me,” Danny says, though he can’t put any real bite into it and he’s pretty sure Jazz can tell.

“I pay attention, you know,” Jazz says, stepping back.

Danny swallows.  “Yeah?  How much?”

“Enough to know that robbery and property damage isn’t Phantom’s MO,” Jazz says with a roll of her eyes.  “And that those reports aren’t gonna say anything about what he’s actually like.”  She pauses and looks at Danny for a minute, then clears her throat and looks away.  “You know, just in case you’re curious about that kind of thing.  You should find better sources.”

“And what are you, a journalist?” Danny asks.

“I’m just… concerned,” Jazz says hesitantly.  “I hope that… wherever Phantom is, he’s doing okay.  I hope he knows it’s not his fault.”

Danny doesn’t say anything, and he and Jazz stare at each other for a minute.

They’re interrupted by their mom calling from upstairs, “Kids, are you coming or not?”

“We’re coming Mom!” Jazz calls back.  She looks back at Danny and nods her head up the steps, and Danny shuts off the computer and follows her up.

…

He’s not that shocked when he gets nightmares about Freakshow, but it’s definitely inconvenient.  If he can think of one thing that won’t help with getting things back to normal, it’s being consistently sleep deprived.

The worst part is that he can’t really be sure which of the nightmares are his brain throwing his worries back in his face, and which parts are actually his brain putting together things that have happened that he can’t remember right.

Honestly, maybe it doesn’t matter that much.  Either way, he doesn’t get a full night of sleep once for the first week he’s back.  He can tell Jazz notices, though he’s pretty sure his parents aren’t picking up on anything, and none of them say anything.  He tries his hardest to pay attention at school, because he really can’t afford to fall behind due to falling asleep in class.

Unfortunately, between trying to act normal around his family and pay attention during school, that means he usually spends the first half hour with Sam and Tucker passed out asleep on top of his textbooks.

“Dude,” Tucker says, after the fifth school day in a row of waking him up so he can do at least some of the homework he’s missed.  “What time are you going to bed?”

“Yeah Danny, I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but maybe you need to go to sleep a little bit earlier,” Sam says, raising an eyebrow.

“You act like I’m not trying that,” Danny mutters, rubbing at his eyes.

“What’s stopping you?” Sam asks.

“Uh,” Danny says, not having thought that far ahead.

“Danny, seriously, on top of being the only time you can get your homework done, this is also the only time we get to hang out with you for a while,” Sam says.  “I’d appreciate it if you could stay awake for all of it.”

“I’m trying, honestly,” Danny says, leaning back in his chair.  “It’s not like I don’t care.  I do.”

“Then what’s going on, Danny?” Tucker asks.  “You know you can still talk to us, right?  You can always talk to us.”

Danny winces.

Well, maybe he can start small.

“I… I’ve had a couple nightmares,” he admits, running a hand through his hair as he sits up.  He pulls his homework closer so he doesn’t have to look either of them in the eyes.  “It’s not a big deal.”

“Nightmares about what?” Sam asks, giving him a look he can feel without looking back.  “Did something happen?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Danny says.  “Can we just acknowledge it and move on?”

“Uh, no?” Sam says, reaching forward and pulling the homework away from him.

“Hey!” Danny says, turning to her.

“You can’t just say something like that and not expect followup questions,” Sam says, crossing her arms.  “Nightmares about what happened while you were gone?”

Danny sighs.  “Maybe.”

“What happened?” Tucker asks, obvious concern in his voice and on his face.

Danny looks up at him, not having a clue what to say.  Should he explain the one about blasting all of the other ghosts into the concrete hard enough to cause a dent, or the one about terrorizing a small child and her mother to get them away from the paintings they were trying to steal?

Neither of those sound like they’ll come without follow up questions.

Danny reaches over and pulls his homework back over in front of him.  “There just wasn’t a lot of food going around,” he says, settling on the one human experience he can reliably count on.

There’s a couple seconds of silence, and then Tucker gives a long sigh.  “Dude,” he says.  “Why did it take you so long to come back?”

“I need to get this science homework done,” Danny says in lieu of a reply.

Neither of them say anything back to him.

Strangely enough, the first one who comes up with something that’s actually helpful in regards to the nightmares is Jazz.  And she seems to do it unintentionally, like she’s been doing a lot lately.  She very casually at dinner one night brings up an article she’s read about how rewriting the endings of nightmares can sometimes be a good way for someone to calm down after having them, then starts discussing the science of dreams and sleep and how both of them are important and how to make sure both of them are going as smoothly as they can.

…Okay, maybe this time it’s a little more intentional than she wants to let on.

That doesn’t mean her ideas aren’t worth trying, though, so Danny gets a notebook to keep on the nightstand for alternate endings to write down.  (He’ll destroy the pages every morning for privacy purposes, but he draws the line at getting a night light.)

It ends up being helpful enough that he can at least fall back asleep, which is a big improvement, if the ideas he writes down seem a little unrealistic, with how hard it actually was to break out of Freakshow’s control.  Either way, he’s not so tired, and despite how loathe he is to admit it, he has Jazz to thank for that.

Not that he’ll ever tell her that, of course.

…

It’s a week and a half after he returns that things change in a meaningful way.  He hasn’t had any ghost fighting to do since getting back, but that changes during lunch on Monday.  Not anything he can’t handle, just a quick eye roll with the Box Ghost, but it apparently means something very different to the rest of Amity Park, and, more important to him personally, to Sam and Tucker.

“I mean honestly,” Sam is saying when Danny shows up at the library after school.  She’s pacing back and forth across the library, and though Tucker waves at him when he notices him, Sam continues marching angrily in front of the table.

“Who does he think he is, showing up like nothing’s different?  First of all, he ruined Circus Gothica, and then he just shows up expecting everyone to still see him as the hero?  That’s not how that works!”

“Hey Danny,” Tucker says as he approaches.  “Don’t mind Sam, she’s pissed off about the ghost fight today.”

“Why?” Danny asks, setting his bag down on the table.  “I didn’t think that was really your scene.”

“Not until that Invis-o-Bill idiot made it personal by messing with my circus,” Sam says, rolling her eyes with obvious anger.  “And then expects everything he’s done in the past couple weeks to just be brushed off.”

Danny sighs, reaching inside his backpack for his homework.  “Yeah, that figures.”

“What figures?” Tucker asks in confusion.

“Math figures,” Danny says, dropping his notebook on the table.  “Gonna try and knock out a lot of the math homework today.”

“Uh, fair enough?” Tucker says, still sounding confused.  “But honestly Sam, at least he seems to have gotten over whatever’s been going on and isn't actively being malicious anymore.”

“Great, so we’re supposed to reward him for the bare minimum?”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Danny asks, looking up with what he hopes comes off as annoyance.  “I get enough of ghosts from my parents, I was kind of appreciating you guys actually being a break from all of that.”

“Look, you don’t get it,” Sam says.  “I don’t imagine you’ve been following ghost news for the past couple weeks, but he’s—”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Danny snaps, giving Sam as firm a glare as he dares to right now.

Sam raises her eyebrows.  “Excuse me?”

“Sam, honestly, I’ll let you be as mad at me as you need for as long as you want,” Danny says.  “But please, can you back off with the ghosts?  My parents already think I was kidnapped by them or something, I don’t want to talk about them during the only time of the day I can actually relax for a little bit.  Okay?”

Thankfully, Sam and Tucker both go quiet.  Now he’ll just have to hope that neither of them actually ask his parents about that excuse and realize he already told them that’s not what happened.

But apparently he’s misjudged their silence, because after a minute Tucker taps his textbook with a pencil, drawing his attention.

He looks up and finds Tucker and Sam both looking at him like they’re trying to come up with the right way to say something.

He blinks.  “What?”

“Danny,” Tucker says slowly.  “If I ask you something, can you promise not to freak out?”

“No,” Danny says honestly.

Tucker considers this for a second.  “Fair.  I’m gonna ask anyway.  Did you actually run away of your own free will?”

Danny goes stiller than, well, a dead person.  “What?”

“Did you actually run away?”

Danny looks back and forth between him, and then Sam, and then back.  “Why are you asking me that?”

“Dude,” Tucker says, leaning closer.  “You’re not acting like yourself.  Even ‘just made a huge mistake and now everyone’s mad at you’ yourself.  You’re having nightmares, and you don’t want to talk about what’s causing them.  Did you actually run away?”

Danny opens his mouth, shuts it, and looks down at his math textbook.

“…Danny,” Sam says, sounding baffled and angry but also more concerned than he’s heard from her since he got back.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because that’s something you just say in the middle of the hallway,” Danny snaps despite himself.

“Danny, come on,” Sam says.  “Why are you just letting everyone be mad at you then?  You need to tell someone—”

“No,” Danny says.

“What?  Dude,” Tucker says, leaning forward with obvious worry.  “They could go after someone else, or come after you again—”

“He won’t.”

“You can’t know that!”

“Yeah, well, I do,” Danny says, keeping his gaze very firmly on his math homework.  “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You know what?  Fine,” Sam snaps, pushing her chair back and grabbing her bag.  “Because you’re being ridiculous.”

With that, she turns and marches out of the library.

Danny doesn’t say anything in protest and starts working on the first math problem on the sheet.

“You know,” Tucker says quietly.  “She was really really scared when you weren’t here.”

Danny keeps writing.

“She was worried something was gonna happen to you and she’d never see you again,” Tucker continues.  “I…” there’s a pause, and then he sighs.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about anything you don’t want to, dude,” he says.  “Just… know that she’s not actually mad at you.  She’s just still scared.”

Danny sighs and puts his pencil down.  “Yeah,” he says.  “I know.”

Tucker reaches out and puts a hand on Danny’s shoulder, in a way that should feel really awkward but somehow doesn’t.  “You know you can tell me anything,” he says.  “Right?”

Danny looks away.

“Okay,” Tucker sighs.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He picks up his stuff and leaves.

…

Danny spends the night laying on his bed tossing a ball up in the air and trying to catch it.  He has to get up and chase it down more often than he’d like, he’s not exactly the most athletic person out there.

He ignores his growing stomach and skips dinner, telling his mom he’s not feeling well.  He can always go down and grab something after everyone else falls asleep.

After dinner, however, he hears a knock on his  door.

“What?”

“Can I come in?” Jazz asks.

Danny pauses in tossing the ball in the air and considers for a moment.  “Yeah.”

The door opens as Danny resumes tossing the ball.  Jazz walks in, then closes the door behind her and heads over towards the bed, already looking concerned. 

“Are you doing okay?” she asks.  “You were upset about something when I came to pick you up, and now you’ve been up here for hours.”

Danny manages to actually catch the ball and sits up, setting it down next to him.  “Okay, what is with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting like, aggressively supportive since I got back,” Danny says.  “Sam is angrier at me than you.  Mom and Dad are angrier at me than you.”

“I’m your sister,” Jazz says.  “It’s not my job to get angry at you.  It’s my job to support you.”

“No, you’re my sister,” Danny says.  “It’s your job to tease me relentlessly and make my life way harder.”

Jazz gives him a look.  “You really don’t need that right now.”

“And why should you care?” Danny snaps.  “I brought this on myself, remember?”

Jazz doesn’t say anything.

“I just, I’m trying to understand what your deal is,” Danny says.  “Do you want something?  Are you trying to butter me up for some reason?  What are you getting out of this?”

Jazz gives him what almost seems like a sad look, then reaches forward and squeezes Danny’s hand.  “I’m worried about you,” she says quietly.

“Why?” Danny says, pulling his hand away.

Jazz sighs, looking down at the bed.  “Because we both know you didn’t run away, Danny.”

Danny throws his hands up.  “This again?  I’m fine.  No one died, no one hurt me, I didn’t have to hurt— people, so I’m fine!”

Jazz gives him a look.  “That is in no way how that works.”

Danny shakes his head, glaring down at the covers.

Jazz nudges him gently in the side.  “I’m not going to make you say something you’re not ready to,” she says.  “Just know that you can tell me anything, Danny.”

With that, she stands and starts to walk out, and Danny feels a weight press down on his chest, one he’s barely sure he can take anymore.

“Jazz, wait,” he says, reaching out and catching her arm.

Jazz pauses and turns back around.  “Yeah?”

“I—” Danny says, and stops.  Nerves start to crawl up his throat.  He half expects his ghost sense to go off, but it’s not that kind of anxiety.

He takes a deep breath.  “If I tell you something,” he says.  “Can you promise to let me explain everything before you make any kind of judgment?”

Jazz smiles at him.  “I promise,” she says with a nod.

Danny takes a shaky breath.  “I, um.”  He stops.

“Yeah?” Jazz probes gently.

“Sorry,” he mutters, looking down and clenching his hands around his blankets.  “I don’t think I’ve ever actually said it out loud before.”

Jazz reaches out and puts her hand over his.  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says.  “I… already know.”

Danny jerks his head up.  “What?”

By the look on her face, he can tell they both mean exactly the same thing.

“You…” Danny says weakly.  “How long?”

“Uh, since the Spectra thing,” Jazz says, rubbing the back of her neck with a sheepish smile.  “I wanted to give you a chance to tell me yourself.”

Danny gapes at her for a second, Jazz gives him a soft smile.

“And you…” he says finally.  “You don’t care?”

“Of course I care,” Jazz says, crossing her arms.  “I care that you’re safe.  I care that if you don’t want someone to know, they don’t find out.  I care that you’re my brother and you’ve been trying to do this all alone.  I care that some jerk ran off with you and has been forcing you to do things you clearly don’t want to do for the past month.”

Danny winces and looks down.

“Are you okay?” Jazz says, sitting down on the bed next to him.

“Not… really,” Danny says.

Jazz wraps her arms around him and pulls him over towards her, and this time he doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t like watching you do this all by yourself,” Jazz says.  “Can I help you?”

Now Danny does pull away, if just to stare at her in bafflement.  “You want to help?”

“Of course I want to help,” Jazz says, like that’s obvious.  “If anything, the past month is a clear sign that you shouldn’t be doing this by yourself.”

Well, he can’t exactly argue with her there.  Still…

“It’s dangerous, Jazz,” he says.

Jazz raises her eyebrows.  “All the more reason I don’t want you rushing into danger without backup.”

“I can handle it,” he says.  “That’s what the ghost powers are for.”

“Danny.”  Jazz leans forward, giving him a pointed look.  “I want to help you.  Okay?”

Danny looks at her for a minute.  He takes a breath.  “Okay.”

Jazz leans forward and pulls him into another hug, and for once, Danny can know she means it.  His brain can’t make any arguments about how she wouldn’t be doing this if she knew, because she does know.

And, well.

He could get used to that.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #look don't ask me I haven't watched this show in 10 years #no one knows au #tw kidnapping #it probably counts as that honestly #my fic

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

so, i started writing this fic, and i think i'm going to continue it, but i would love to get some reactions to the idea i had so much fun adapting a romcom to the marauders in my 10 things i hate about you fic, then i was rewatching life as we know it for the first time in years and was surprisingly still into it and thought it could be a fun one cos of some of the parallels, so here is the set up:

in an au where voldy is destroyed, sirius never sent to azkaban, and reader and sirius have to raise harry together after james and lily die even though they hate each other... initially ofc

pairing: Sirius Black x reader word count: 1.9k

You’re surprised to hear a knock at your door this late. Exhausted after another Order mission, you resent whoever is on the other side of it. When you open it, lowering your ready wand just behind the door with an exasperated sigh, the feeling heightens. 

“What the hell do you want?” you ask a smirking Sirius Black leaning on your doorframe. 

“What kind of a greeting is that, love?” he retorts seemingly unfazed.

You say nothing, glare harder. 

He rolls his eyes and begins, “Dumbledore wants you to tell me about your mission. He has something he wants me to do soon — won’t tell me what exactly yet, you know how he is — and he thinks whatever intel your mission provided will be relevant.” 

“Can’t it wait till tomorrow? I’m exhausted, Black.” 

“He told me to come tonight,” he says firmly, shrugging. “Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be here, but there are more important things right now than resting” — he gestures to you — “or keeping good company,” he finishes, gesturing at himself.

“Oh I’m bad company? Have you met yourself? And you’re one to talk about important things, Black. All you ever do is joke around. And —” you go to continue, but he cuts you off, gently pushing his way past you and into your flat.

“Choose a line of attack, L/N. You’re rambling.”

You groan but follow him into your living room. He’s making himself comfortable, putting his boots up on your coffee table to settle in. 

“Fucking hell, Black,” you whine as you kick his legs off. “I know there’s a war going on, but I’d prefer for my home not to become a pig sty, thank you.” 

“Leave it to you to worry about shit like this now,” he sighs, rolling his eyes at you for the second time in mere minutes.

His critical comments are nothing new. The two of you had gotten into it over nothing since your school days, your best friends eventually getting together doing nothing to make you hate each other less. Lily had been your best friend since first year, James his. 

With your current exhaustion, even this little comment had you practically seething. Knowing him, though, you knew anything you said back would just give him more ammunition to mock you somehow. So, you just stood and stared angrily at him. 

“Well?” he looks at you infuriatingly nonchalantly. “The faster we do this, the faster I’m out of here.” 

“Fine.” You sit next to him begrudgingly and relate the events of the last few days to him, falling into “official” mode the only thing that made dealing with Sirius Black any easier.

~

This message wasn’t right. There was no possible way it was right. It had to be wrong. A mistake. A trap. A cruel joke. Anything but the truth.

You’re standing there, staring at the spot where a fellow Order member’s Patronus has just vanished after delivering its message to you. Your jaw is slack, your eyes wide and quickly brimming with tears. Tears at the mere idea that your best friend and her husband were dead, not the reality. It couldn’t be reality. 

After what might have been several minutes, though your mind is stuck, your body moves to action and heads immediately to Order headquarters. 

When you get there, you’re surprised at how many people are here. Such gatherings are usually reserved for the most important of meetings only; it’s too dangerous to have so many members together in any one place, lest the enemy find out and root out what little resistance remains. 

Oddly enough, it’s in crowds like this that you most notice the absent. You miss them when you are alone, too, of course, but there is something about looking around and not seeing Marlene’s beautiful — even if haunted toward the end — face amongst the others. Not feeling Dorcas’s head coming to rest on your shoulder. Not hearing Alice’s sweet giggle at something Frank has just whispered to her, bringing joy even in the darkest of times. Their voices are devoid of joy now, shut away at St. Mungo’s. 

Lily can’t be gone too. Please not Lily too. 

You’re not sure how to gauge the expressions of your friends and comrades around you. There is such a strange intermingling of emotions lingering on their faces. James and Lily couldn’t be dead if there was a look of such relief on Emmeline’s face, if Elphias was busy chattering away to a few other members. 

But then you see him. You see Sirius Black, and you know.

He’s sitting in a corner. He isn’t crying. He doesn’t look sad. He looks hollow. There aren’t tears in his eyes because his eyes are dead. 

You gravitate toward him without thinking, and when you’re close, his empty eyes meet yours. Sirius stands. You look at each other for a long moment, understanding crossing between you, and without a word from either of you, you embrace.

A few long, shaky breaths later, with Sirius Black’s warm, firm arms around you, you break down. You can’t see his face from where you have yours burrowed into his chest, but his arms tighten around you as your sobs shake your whole body. He holds you through the entire episode, until your body has drained itself of all the tears it could possibly produce in this moment. Only when you’ve been still for a minute does he loosen his grip, stepping back slightly.

You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, “Both of them?” He just nods. You immediately follow with, “Where’s Harry?” Fear shoots through you at the thought, but before you lose yourself in it, Sirius grabs your shoulders and says, “Harry’s fine.” Another bout of fear oozes through your body, but this one is slower, eerier. It takes you a moment to discern its cause: it’s Sirius’s voice. It’s never sounded like this before, and you hear in its dullness a pain you’d think unimaginable if you weren’t feeling it too. 

You nod slowly and ask where your godson is. Sirius tells you he’s with Remus. 

“What’s going to happen to him?” you whisper. 

“I don’t know,” he responds. “Dumbledore said he’d talk to us once we were both here.” 

~ 

It’s much later in the night, almost morning you reckon, when you find yourself and Sirius sitting across from Dumbledore, finally alone. He’d had to handle a million and one things already, the scope of the night’s events incomprehensible to your grief-stricken mind. 

Dumbledore doesn’t wait at all before saying, “I am truly sorry for the loss you both have experienced tonight and will continue to experience for the rest of your lives. The loss of someone so close is a loss from which one never truly recovers.” 

You both nod, saying nothing, and he continues. 

“I’m certain both of your main concern at this point is Harry. Firstly, let me provide you the comfort of informing you Harry is perfectly safe. How exactly, none of us know, and perhaps will never know. But young Harry survived Voldemort’s attack tonight, and somehow destroyed him in the process. Harry is currently with Mr. Lupin, but you can sort for yourselves how you wish to go about the transition in the following days. I have not spoken to either of you about it personally, but I imagine, given the arrangement, that you will be moving into the Potter’s home in Godric’s Hollow?”

You’re sure your face betrays your utter confusion, and on instinct, you look to Sirius for some sort of clarification. The look on his face tells you he’s as lost as you are. 

“Arrangement, sir?” you finally manage after some awkward silence.

“Yes. It was Lily and James’s wish that in the event of their deaths, Harry should be raised by his godparents.” He looks between you and Sirius. “You, of course.” 

A pregnant beat. 

“I’m sorry, what? ‘You’ as in who? ‘You’ as in me? Or him? Not ‘you’ as in us?” you ramble. 

“‘You’ as in both of you, yes. You and Mr. Black.” You give a mirthless chuckle. 

“There must be some kind of misunderstanding, sir. We,” you gesture unnecessarily aggressively between you and the man sitting next to you, “are not together. We’re not a couple; we’re not even friends; how are we supposed to raise Harry together?” 

“There is no misunderstanding. And I do feel the need to add that this is in fact one consideration in bestowing — and accepting — the role of a godparent, I’m sure you know.”

You turn toward Sirius, who is just sitting there completely dumbstruck. You smack his chest and urge, “Say something, for Godric’s sake.” 

“Ummm… I… Well… I… She…She…,” he looks to you briefly, “I and… and she… I and she… she and I —” He can’t string even a phrase together, and Dumbledore gently raising a hand mercifully puts an immediate stop to his ridiculous attempt.

“It is unfortunate that your friends did not discuss this decision with you before its effect was rendered necessary. I imagine they dreaded such a conversation and suspect they never found it the ‘right’ time. However, I am certain it was what they wanted. After all, it was at my behest that they made a decision at all. Few of us ever want to think about our own deaths, but when I realized what danger the Potters were in, I knew it was a necessary consideration. I am devastated to have been proven correct.” Dumbledore was always calm and collected, but you know him well enough to know he meant those words.

“If you choose to reject this arrangement, we can see about other options. Though, as I have said, it would be going against his parents’ wishes. There is of course his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys I believe they are called. Alternatively, there are orphanages for such occasions, but they are dreadful places, and I would wish that fate upon no child, especially if he could be raised with family.” 

“The Dursleys aren’t his family,” you say immediately, a strength to your voice that had not been there in the entire conversation thus far. Dumbledore looks at you. “They’re not, sir. I’ve met them. They’re horrid people. They hate wizards and witches, were terribly cruel to Lily. I can’t imagine how they’d treat her wizard son.” You grimace at the thought. “They’re not his family… We are.” This sits heavily in the room for a moment, and it is Sirius who speaks first. 

“We’ll take care of Harry,” he whispers. His voice is quiet but certain. “We’ll figure it out.” He looks to you inquisitively, and you nod. 

“I’m gladdened to hear it,” Dumbledore says. “You don’t have to stay there long term, but I imagine it will be good for Harry to be in a familiar place as he adjusts to such change, so I will have him brought to his house in a few hours. Can you collect yourselves and meet him there?” 

You both nod; he adds a curt, “Good,” and before you know what’s even happened, you’re left sitting in a room with Sirius Black, a man you’d always hated, a man who is suddenly your co-parent to Harry. 

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders fanfic #harry potter fanfic #life as we know it #romcoms #angst #fluff #enemies to lovers

[afictionaladventure16]

Hiii!! i love all your writings and saw that you wanted an idea for tim bradford angst.

if possible, can you do tim bradford x teen!daughter where she gets held hostage or in trouble and he become really overprotective and worried for her?

thanks so much!! 🩷🩷

Safe & Sound (Tim Bradford x Adopted!Daughter)

Pt. 2

The Rookie Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, stabbing, mentions of self-harm, beating, and potential death.

Word Count: 11,027

A/N: Alright, this is the fic that I wrote because of the poll and this request. I hope you guys enjoy it! High key, proud of this one since it is the longest fic I have written! Tim Bradford requests are open! Also, if there are mistakes... um... no, there isn't... ignore it... lol and I know there wasn't much Lucy in this one, I realize that after I wrote everything... I promise to write more Lucy in the next ones.

Side note: Diego Luna is Diego Garcia

Gael Garcia Bernal is Gael Garcia...

Y/N's eyes darted between Angela and Y/N's dad for the past ten minutes as they argued over where the centerpieces should go and for some reason, Y/N felt like this was something she’d flipped about. Yet, here they were flipping out about the position of the centerpiece. 

“What do you think?” Angela finally asked y/n, her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face.

“Does it matter?” She asked. 

Y/N could see the switch flip in Angela’s eyes, Tim couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle before placing a soft hand on Angela’s shoulder, “Just put them how you want, Angela, we have more important things to worry about,” he had waved the white flag. 

Angela nodded, “you’re right,” she began, her eyes landing on y/n, “We still need you to shower, get dressed, and do your hair and makeup. All in under,” she looked at her watch, eyes widened as she realized the time. “Two hours!” She exclaimed. 

Y/N let out a sigh, “Alright, let’s go.” She followed Angela out of the banquet hall.

Suppose y/n had asked her ten-year-old, scared self that in a few years, she’d be surrounded by people who loved her like they shared the same blood, with no conditions attached. That she’d be getting ready for her quince and that she was happy. Her younger self would have called her crazy, mostly because, at the time, she didn’t see any hope. Yet, here she was, looking at herself in the mirror as she wore her quince dress, hair styled in a half-up and half-down with curls, and the makeup wasn’t over the top but complimented her face.

“What do you think?” Angela asked, grinning from ear to ear as she looked at her in the mirror. 

“I love it,” y/n smiled, tears beginning to form in her eyes. 

“Oh no,” Angela quickly grabbed a tissue and helped y/n wipe away the tears before it ruined her makeup, “What’s wrong? Is there something you don’t like?” 

y/n couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “No, it’s not that,” she glanced back at herself in the mirror. “I just never thought I’d be this lucky.” 

Angela smiled, she opened her mouth to say something but quickly turned at the sound of a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Tim asked from the other side of the door. 

Angela rolled her eyes, “Come in.” Tim entered the room, “you’re supposed to be keeping an eye on everything,” Angela scowled. 

Tim held his hands up, “In my defense, Lucy said she had it handled and rushed me to come get dressed.”

Angela sighed, “Alright, well I guess I should get ready, you don’t mind if I use the bathroom to change?” 

Tim shook his head, “by all means, go ahead.” Angela walked out of the room. Y/n couldn’t help but continue to stare at herself in the mirror, “You look beautiful, sweetie.” 

“You think so?” 

Tim nods, “And I’m not just saying that because I’m your dad and I have to.” He walked over and planted a kiss on top of her head, “Our ride will be here an hour, so why don’t you help Angela get ready.” 

“On it,” y/n smiled and walked out of the room. 

Within the hour, everyone had gotten ready and it was time to head back to the banquet hall. It wasn’t long until y/n was back at the banquet hall, making an entrance to her guests clapping. It all felt surreal and she didn’t want it to end. 

She danced with her friends as planned, and then surprised her guests with a surprise dance. By the time it was all over, she was exhausted, but when she heard the music slowly die down she was quick to catch on to what was going on. 

“If I could have everyone’s attention,” Tim began, as he waited a few seconds for everyone to quiet down. “I would just like to thank you all for coming out tonight, it means a lot to us. I also have a small speech prepared, I’m not accustomed to how quince’s go, but I’ve been told that I need to make a speech.” Tim scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on y/n, he smiled, “As many as you know, Y/N is adopted, but that doesn’t mean I love her any less, if anything it means I love her more. I think I knew from the day I met her, that there was something special in her and that I wasn’t just supposed to save her that day…” Tim could recall that moment when he knew that somehow you were destined to be a part of his life and somehow you were brought into his life to save him from his pain. 

~~ Then ~~ 

Tim cursed under his breath when he told himself it was a quiet shift because only a second later he got a call about a possible double homicide with a little girl who had called 9-1-1. He knew that whatever this little girl saw, it would stay with her the rest of her life and this wasn’t the first time he had answered calls like these. Yet, something about this one felt different. 

He was the first one on the scene when he arrived at the house, he took out his gun and slowly approached the house, the front door was already open. Slowly, Tim made his way through the house, checking every room as he walked through. He stopped when he walked into the master bedroom, seeing the bodies of a woman and a man on the floor. He walked over and checked for a pulse. 

“Dispatch, this is Officer Bradford, we got two DBs on the scene,” Tim said into his walkie. Tim could hear the distant sounds of sirens approaching, backup had arrived. 

A sound of ruffling came from behind him, he quickly turned around to face a closet door. Tim raised his gun as he slowly approached the door, “this is LAPD, come out of the closet,” Tim stated, and he was met with silence. He opened the door slowly, his eyes widened when his eyes landed on a little girl. He lowered his gun and bent down, “Hey, it’s okay.” He tried his best to sound as soft as possible, but she inched backward until she hit the wall. He noticed her eyes darted behind him, his heart raced as he turned around but no one was there. His eyes landed back down at the bodies on the floor. He blocked her view with his body. 

“Do you want to play a game?” Tim asked, y/n looked up at him and gave him a small nod. 

“Alright, the rules are you have to close your eyes okay? Can you do that for me?” Tim asked. Y/n gave him a nod and closed her eyes. Tim got up, picking you up in the process. He was surprised at how light she was, given her age. He took her outside where other officers and paramedics began to arrive, one of the paramedics walked over to the two of them. 

“She doesn’t seem to be injured but I would like to get her checked out, just in case,” Tim began. 

The paramedic nodded as he reached out for her, but she quickly sunk more into Tim’s arms. The paramedic glanced at Tim, “looks like you got a puppy,” he commented, “mind carrying her to the rig?” 

Tim let out a small sigh before following the paramedic to the rig, he held her in his arms as he sat in the back of the rig while the paramedic did his thing. She clung to his side the whole time, and for some reason, Tim was okay with it. Yes, it happened from time to time and sometimes Tim wished he was never put in that situation but this time, he felt this was where he was needed. 

~~ NOW~~ 

“Little did I know that I was to gain a daughter that day and I am proud of the young lady she is becoming,” Tim glanced over to where y/n was, a prideful smile on his face, “Happy birthday, sweetie.”  There was more that Tim wanted to say, stuff that made him feel uncomfortable in front of a room full of friends and family. He wasn’t uncomfortable because he didn’t want to say it, it was more because he never showed that side of him to those who barely knew him. 

What he wanted to say would have to wait. 

The party quickly resumed with everyone back on the dance floor and having the time of their lives. It wasn’t long before the night slowly began to die down, people began to go home and soon enough it was only a few people left. Y/N could feel the drowsiness hitting her eyes as she sat at one of the tables, she was thankful that she chose to get a second dress for the end of the night. Y/N was done with your quince dress an hour after she put it on and somehow Angela knew y/n would need a second dress. 

“Tired?” Tim asked as he sat down on the chair next to y/n. She slowly nodded, laying her head on the table. 

“Why don’t the two of you go home, I have people coming by in the morning to clean up,” Angela commented as she walked over to the table. 

Tim nodded, gesturing for y/n to get up, “Thank you, again, Angela.” 

“Hey, you helped me plan my wedding, the least I can do is help you plan your daughter’s quince, especially since you have no experience in this criteria.” 

“Well, I appreciate it,” Tim hugged Angela, letting go to grab some of y/n’s things.  

Y/N got up from the table and hugged Angela, “Thank you, Angela. You made my quince the highlight of the school year.” Angela smiled and placed a small kiss on Y/n’s forehead.

“Make sure to mention me in your popularity speech,” she winks.  

“You’ll be the first one I thank,” y/n joked. She followed Tim out of the banquet hall. 

“How are you feeling?” Tim asked as the both of them got in the truck. 

“Sleep deprived.” 

Tim grunted, “What?” 

“Well, we have a birthday tradition we haven’t done this year.” She gave him a confused look, “Our hot chocolate at midnight,” he said in a surprised tone. 

She let out a small chuckle, it was a tradition she had unknowingly started on her first birthday with her dad, “I completely forgot about that.” 

“How could you forget? It’s a sacred tradition and we are about an hour late.”  

She playfully rolled her eyes, “It slipped my mind with all the quince craziness.” 

“You’re forgiven,” he smiled, starting the truck to head home. It wasn’t long before she was asleep, being tired and going on a car drive was not a good combo for her. It felt like seconds after she had closed her eyes, she was being woken up, only to realize that she had been asleep for twenty minutes. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Tim suggested as he grabbed some of her things from the back seat. 

She followed him inside the house, “I’m still down for that hot chocolate,” she commented. 

“You sure?” 

“It’s a tradition,” she smiled, “I’m just gonna take off all this makeup, give me five minutes.” 

Your dad watched as you walked into your room, you were too stubborn for your own good and somehow he felt like he was to blame for that. 

 Tim went into the kitchen to make the two of you hot chocolate, he was adding marshmallows when everything went dark. “Crap,” he muttered to himself. “Damn outages,” he jumped into action, rushing over to the drawer where he kept his emergency kit, including his flashlight. 

“Y/N, I’ll bring over some candles!” He yelled out. He waited for your response but he did not receive any, he was trying not to panic, maybe you were so busy taking off your makeup still that you didn’t get the chance to respond. But given the last time the power had gone off, he was expecting a response. Yes, it was the summer and there had been outages but it had mostly happened during the day. 

Kojo began to whine and ran over to your door, beginning to scratch at the door. Something was wrong, Tim didn’t hesitate to run over to your door, “Y/N?” He called out. He waited another few seconds for you to respond. When you didn’t it was like all the alarms inside Tim’s head went off, “Y/N?!” He yelled. Again, no response. 

He couldn’t wait any longer, he opened the door to find an empty dark room, he ran over to your bathroom and it was empty. He felt his heart drop, and he ran out into the hallway, “Y/N!?” he screamed. He went to every single room in the house, any place he thought you would hide, but why would you hide? To play a game of hide and seek? He didn’t know, he wished that was what was happening, He hoped. He stood in the middle of the living room, his breathing was erratic as he realized that you were gone. You were gone and it was while he was home, where he could protect you. Regardless of what happened, Tim felt responsible for everything. 

His hands shook as he dialed 9-1-1, when he heard the voice on the other line, he couldn’t say the words. Maybe because saying it would mean it was reality, it wasn’t some nightmare he could just wake up from. 

“Hello? 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The lady asked again. 

Tim felt tears forming in his eyes, “My-my daughter is missing,” he choked out a sob before giving the dispatch his address. 

“Sir, I need you to remain calm, can you tell me your daughter’s name and age?” 

He let out a shaky breath, “Y/N,” he felt another sob making its way up his throat, part of him wanted to throw up. He didn’t know why he felt like throwing up, but the feeling was making its way up. “She just turned fifteen,” He managed to say. 

“Do you know where she was taken from?” 

Yes, he did. She was taken while I was present, he thought. “Our home,” He held back his sob. 

“Can you describe what happened? What was she wearing?” 

He needed Lucy. He needed someone to take over for him, he couldn’t do this. All he wanted to do was to run out into the streets and find her himself, but he knew he wouldn’t hold back if he did. He would tear whoever took her limb by limb, he wouldn’t show any mercy. 

“Sir? Are there any open windows in her bedroom?” 

It was like everything he learned in the academy, everything he had done on the job flew out the window the second he realized she wasn’t in her room. 

He walked into the bedroom once more, “There is,” he said as he stared at the open window, “she doesn’t open her window, her screen ripped a while back.” 

“Can you describe what happened before you realized she was missing?” 

“I-I was making us hot chocolate and then the power went out.” 

The dispatcher kept Tim on the phone until officers arrived, it didn’t take long for word to get to Sergeant Grey and somehow he arrived seconds after the first officer. 

Sergeant Grey took matters into his own hands, calling up Angela and Lucy to the scene, one because Grey knew he needed the best detective on this case and the second because Tim needed the support right now. 

“I need you to walk me through this Tim,” Angela said softly as she sat beside Tim on the couch. 

He clasped his hands together, hoping it would stop the shaking, he was shaking so much. No matter what he tried it just wouldn’t stop. “I went into the kitchen to make us some hot chocolate and the power went out. I called out for Y/N and got no response, I gave it a second because I know sometimes it’s hard for her to respond when she’s taking off her makeup.” 

Angela couldn’t help but smile at how much Tim had become a girl-dad within the past few years. He knew everything about his daughter and the habits she had. If she were on her time of the month, he was quick to get her the things she needed without being a guy about it. There were even times when Y/N’s period got so bad, that he allowed her to stay home from school. In Angela’s eyes, he was the ultimate girl-dad and she knew how lucky Y/N was to have him as one. 

“I then walked over to her bedroom and called for her again and when she didn’t respond a second time I knew something was wrong. The third time I called out for her, I didn’t wait to go in the bedroom, that’s when I realized she-She was missing,” he choked out the last part, Lucy rubbed small circles on his back. She was trying her best to be his support system in his time of need. 

Angela remembered noticing most of the neighborhood was out of power when she drove up, it could have been a planned thing or just a coincidence, “didn’t you just upgrade your alarm system? Especially the cameras?” 

Tim instantly knew what Angela was trying to bring up, he quickly brought out his phone and pulled up the app. “Usually after an outage, the cameras remain on for ten minutes,” he commented, rewinding the footage to when they had arrived from the quince. 

“There!” Angela pointed out, “That car pulls up a few houses down the same time you guys pull in.” They kept their eyes on the car as they watched the footage. They saw as the power went out and they saw the bushes on the side of the houses moving and then the car driving off in a hurry. 

“It’s too dark to see anything,” Tim felt defeated. At this point, he knew that he wasn’t getting y/n back tonight, she wasn’t safe. 

“Send me that footage, I’ll have my guys work on it. We’re not stopping until she’s home and she’s safe. For now, you should stay at Lucy’s,” Angela stated. 

He shook his head, “We need to get out there, I need to be doing something to find her. Let me help.” 

Angela shook her head, getting up from the couch, “Trust me on this, Tim. I know you want to be there, you want to go out and find her but you can’t. You need to trust me, I will find y/n and when I do, I’ll hold those who took her accountable.” 

Tim opened his mouth to protest, “She’s right, Tim,” Lucy added. “The best we can do is be on the sidelines.” 

Tim felt angry at them for, in football terms, benching him, when he felt like he should be out there with Angela trying to find his daughter. “When you were taken, we all looked for you, including Wesley. So don’t bench me. Don’t tell me to just stay home and not do anything, not after she has been kidnapped right under my fucking nose.” 

Angela looked over at Lucy with a knowing look, “All alright, but you’ll be taking orders from me, what I say goes. I can’t afford to lose any of you if anything goes sideways.” 

“Okay,” Tim said. 

“I need you to promise me that when I tell you something you will listen,” Angela stated. Tim hesitated, he wanted to promise her, but also, he felt like there could be many situations where defying her orders could save you. But he needed to trust Angela. “Promise me, Bradford!” 

“I promise.” 

She let out a deep sigh, “Alright, let’s get to the station, we have a lot of work to do and my guys need to do a sweep of the house to see if they can find anything.” 

The team spent the rest of the night at the station, they were trying to make a connection to the previous break-in, hoping that they could find something that could trace them back to y/n’s whereabouts. But with everything that they searched through, they had no luck. 

Tim and Lucy sat in the conference room where they had a board up with potential suspects on the kidnapping, people who lived nearby and were on the offenders list. It was all dead ends. Angela had left to retrieve documents on Y/N’s adoption, mostly about who her biological parents were.

“Fuck!” Tim yelled as he threw papers across the conference room. 

Lucy looked at him with concern on her face, “Tim, we’ll-” 

“Don’t,” he snapped, “this is all my fault.” Tears formed in his eyes as he sat down on one of the chairs. A shaky sob escaped his lips, “I can’t lose her, Lucy. I can’t. I don’t know how to live in a world where she isn’t my daughter. I know we joke about having kids, but I only have one of her. Nothing will replace her and I never want to replace her.” 

Lucy sat beside him, “I know,” she softly said. 

“I can’t lose her. I don’t think I would be able to handle it.” 

This was a side of Tim that Lucy was beginning to see more and more now that they were in a relationship. It was a side of Tim that she wished more people knew about, but she understood why they didn’t. Yes, he had this mentality that if he showed this side of himself to just anyone then there would be no room for people to take him seriously. 

But here he was, showing this side of himself in the middle of the conference room, where the walls were made of glass, making them the attractions in a zoo. Anyone could see, but they were in their little bubble for the moment. What happened beyond those glass walls didn’t matter, who saw them, didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was there for him in his need. 

“You know when I first met you, I never would have imagined you had a kid, let alone had adopted her. But then I saw her and the way you were with her and I could just tell, she was your kid. If you hadn’t told me that you had adopted her, I would have never guessed it.” Lucy’s fingers brushed his chin, pulling his face to look at her, “I know you will search every inch of this city to find her, but remember that you have a team behind you that is searching with you. We will find her, Tim.” 

Tim felt tears falling from his eyes, “it’s all my fault, Lucy. I was supposed to keep her safe.”

She shook her head, “It’s not your fault, Tim. You did everything right you kept her as safe as you could.” 

Angela walked into the conference room with a beaming smile, “I found something.” 

Tim quickly got up from his seat, “what?” 

“I had to do some bribing, but I got y/n’s adoption records uncovered and her biological parents aren’t who they said they were.” 

“What?” Tim asked in disbelief. 

“Her father was one of the sons of one of the biggest drug lords in Mexico, apparently he came to the U.S. to start a fresh new life with his wife and newborn daughter,” Angela hands Tim a photo of y/n’s biological parents when she was just a newborn. For some reason, Tim felt speechless as he looked at the photo in front of him. He wondered what his daughter was like at that age, the thought of it, made his heart ache. He hated that he missed out on so much, it was something that given their situation was bound to happen, but he felt grateful that he was given the chance to be her father now. 

“She was a cute baby,” Angela commented as she watched how Tim was so focused on the photo in front of him, he probably didn’t even hear a word she had said a second ago. 

“She was,” Tim smiled before putting his focus back on Angela, “you were saying?” 

She couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, “As I was saying before you got into a trance, it looks like Gael and Luna, Y/n’s biological parents were killed by one of another drug lord's men. Hearing this news caused his father to have a heart attack and he almost literally died from a broken heart causing the younger brother of Gael, Deigo, to take over daddy's company.” 

“You didn’t know any of this?” Lucy asked. 

Tim shook his head, “All I was told was that it was a robbery gone wrong, obviously someone wanted to cover this up.” 

“And I have a lucky guess on who that was,” Angela said as she put up a picture of a man who looked similar to Diego, standing next to another man. “The man on the right is Diego Garcia, Gael’s brother and now rightful leader of one of Mexico’s biggest mafia, and the other guy Jesse Ortega, A.K.A. El Patron, One of Mexico’s biggest drug cartels.” 

“So, what are we thinking? That Jesse has y/n?” 

Angela shook her head, “I have more, the way y/n’s biological parents were murdered is similar to how y/n was almost kidnapped and then kidnapped. They also caused a power outage before entering the home, now the question is-”

“Why in the hell would they want y/n?” Tim interrupted. 

Angela shrugged, “leverage? All I know is that we need to find someone who has a connection with Diego and we need to find it fast. We know what these people are capable of.” She looked down, regretting her words as soon as she had said them, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“No, we have to face the reality,” Tim uttered, “there is a chance…” he stopped, he couldn’t believe that he was going even to say it, “a chance that she may come back.” 

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Lucy said. 

Tim gave Lucy a hopeful smile, she was optimistic even when those surrounding her weren’t. She was optimistic in an annoying way that if she had ever stopped, he would miss it. 

~~ 

It had been what felt like a week since y/n had seen the sun since she remembered what it felt like to feel the comfort of her bed. She had been tied up on a chair since she’d been kidnapped, only allowed to get up to go to the bathroom or to stretch for ten minutes. Her captors were human enough to allow her just that. The only way she knows what time it is is by the sound of birds chirping outside, she knows it is morning by the sound of the mourning dove and when it is night by the sound of the crickets and frogs. 

She knows she has to be near water because of the frogs and because of how some of the men complained about the mosquitos. This is how she spent her time, studying. 

She has studied her captor's moves and the daily routines they did to make the time go by. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t at all scared because every minute that passed by her fear worsened. One thing in particular was that they hadn’t given her much attention. They gave her a small bottle of water that she was supposed to make last for the day, and a small meal a day which always looked like leftovers of the meal they chose not to eat. 

Y/N jumped in her chair to the sound of a door slamming, she could hear footsteps escalating towards her, and her eyes widened as the door to the room she was in swung open. One of the guards that sat in the room was quick to react letting out a relieved sigh when he realized who it was. 

“Dude, why do you have to come in like that? You almost gave me a heart attack,” The guard commented as he took a seat once again. 

“We have to get out of here,” the guy that entered the room says. 

“What?” 

“Our location could be blown, it’s been a week since we’ve heard the word,” the guy makes his way towards y/n, tugging at her arm, a gesture for her to get up. 

Y/n groans in pain, her legs sore from being in a position for so long, “What about-” 

“He’ll know where to find us, plus, at this point, I feel like he’s just taking his sweet ass time to come and get his prize.” The man led her out of the room. 

“Wait!” The guard said as he reached for the blindfold in his back pocket, tying the piece of fabric around her eyes. “Alright, now let’s go.” 

Y/n felt herself being led down a dirt path, and then being pushed into the trunk of a car. Then it was silent for a moment before she heard the roar of the engine and they were moving. This was her moment, she slowly began to loosen the rope tied around her wrists, she had been slowly working on it when her captors weren’t in the room. She had almost had it this morning before she was interrupted. The relief came instantly, as she brought her arms in front of her to bring down the blindfold. To her surprise, the trunk felt like being in an abyss, she was surrounded by darkness. Her hands searched above her, she knew there had to be a latch of some sort to open this trunk. Unless her captors were smart enough to remove it. 

She was beginning to give up, feeling tears beginning to form in her eyes. “Please,” she begged to any god that existed and was listening. All she wanted to do was go home, she wanted to feel safe in her dad's arms; Wondering why he hadn’t found her yet, but she knew that he would. Any moment he will be here to rescue her. 

Maybe that’s why they had to move locations. 

Her hands continued to trace the fabric above her, she let out a small gasp as her fingers touched something that wasn’t fabric. She took in a deep breath and pulled on the piece of plastic and in an instant the trunk opened. Y/n jumped out of the trunk with no hesitation, she yelped as she hit the ground and rolled on the pavement. 

Y/N let out a pain-stricken yell as she slowly got up to her feet, she heard tires screeching to a halt. 

“Fuck,” she said, turning around to see the car she had just jumped out of coming to a complete stop. Y/n only had a few seconds to take in her surroundings, it was dark and there was nothing but trees from what her eyes could see. 

She heard the engine beginning to come closer, it was now or never, she ran towards the trees. The sound of a car door closing caused her to use all her energy to run faster, but she could feel it quickly draining. Maybe this is why they fed her so little, to keep her from having the energy to run. 

The lack of food and water was getting to her, but she knew she couldn’t give up, she needed to find safety. 

The crash came quickly, one minute she was alert and running and the next she was on the ground. She was quick to come to, she let out a sob as she attempted to get back up. 

“Not so fast,” One of the men says as he grabs her arm, “Nice try.” He picks her up from the ground, holding a tight grip on her arm. “I got her!” he yells out. 

Footsteps could be heard coming closer to where they were, “Fucking bitch,” the other guy, who happens to be the guard, says. He swings his arm back, his fist meeting Y/n’s mouth causing her to lose her balance. She lets out a small sob, “Let’s get back to the car, Hugo.” 

Finally, a name. Hugo helped y/n back to her feet, “You know he’s not gonna like that you did that,” he commented. “You know how he is about his things.” 

The guard shrugged, “it’ll just be a slap on the wrist.” 

~~ 

Time was slipping by like a thin thread that was hard to see and hard to get a hold of. Tim felt like he was frozen, watching as his friends and family came by the house day by day to check up on him. Lucy came every day to walk Kojo because if she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn he never left his spot on the couch. It had been weeks since their last breakthrough, the day after Y/N was kidnapped, and since then every lead they have had led them to a dead end. At some point, Tim was beginning to lose it, he felt anger residing within him. 

Anger towards himself and to y/n’s captors. He had anger. After all, he was confused and angry because he couldn’t crack the case. He felt like he should be able to find her within a second, but when he was left with nothing but crumbs that once served as hope, he slowly fell into his pit of despair. 

Angela didn’t give up, she knew there was something within the lines that she must have overlooked. She wasn’t going to let the guilt win her, not when it had won over Tim. She knew there had to be one still searching through the crumbs that were left of this disaster. 

“We’re going to find her, Tim,” Angela said, walking around the coffee table to come face-to-face with her best friend. “Do you hear me?” 

Tim continued to stare into the blank space that was the TV. his eyes never leaving his reflection. 

“Tim, you can’t give up. You need to be strong for y/n because when we find her she’s going to need you more than ever,” Angela began to say. “She’s going to need her dad to bring her back to life, we have no idea what kind of hell she is going through righ-” 

“How do we even know she’s still alive?” Tim finally spoke up, breaking his eye contact with his reflection to look at Angela. 

Angela could see the fear in his eyes, the hope and desperation that still lay within them but was withering out, “How could you think that?” 

Tim turned away, blinking his tears away, “You and I both know the chances of survival of someone being kidnapped, especially those who are gone for weeks.” 

“You can’t think that way, you need to think like a cop-” 

“I’m thinking like a father, Angela!” Tim yelled. “My daughter could probably be dead in some ditch and I have to prepare myself for that possibility. I have to prepare myself for the possibility that she-” Tim let out a cry, “she might not come home,” he sobbed. 

“And I don’t know how to live with it. I don’t want to live in a world where she isn’t in it,” Tim cried. “She brought me so much happiness when I couldn’t find any and now she’s gone and I couldn’t stop it,” Tim looked at Angela with glass eyes, “I was supposed to protect her, so what kind of father does that make me?” 

Angela pulled Tim in for a hug, “you can’t always protect them, Tim. We all know that you can’t blame yourself for something that was out of your control.” Angela released the hug, holding Tim’s head in her hands, “I need you to pull yourself together, not for me or Lucy, but for Y/N. She needs you.” 

Tim knew Angela was right, he had to pull himself together. He gave her a small nod, as he got up from his spot on the couch and walked to the hallway, “Where are you going?” 

“To shower, I doubt you want me finding my daughter when I stink like dirty laundry,” he shouted out. 

Angela rolled her eyes, grabbing her phone from her pocket. 

I somehow got him to shower

She had sent a text to Lucy, who decided to stay back at the station to give the paperwork a second look. Lucy had felt like all her attempts on trying to get Tim off the couch had failed, all she had received from him were grunts or blank stares. She never took it personally, but knowing it didn’t take Angela long, made her heartache. 

They’ve been best friends for a while, she thought to herself. She shook her mind off of it before looking back at the paperwork. 

Before she could continue what she was reading, she was interrupted by a knock at the door. She turned to see an unfamiliar face smiling back at her, “Hi, I’m looking for a Tim Bradford.” 

Lucy found it strange to see civilians inside the station at such a late hour, but maybe he wasn’t a civilian. “Um, h-he’s not here at the moment, but can I help you?” Something about this man looked familiar to her, she just couldn’t figure it out.

“I must speak to Mr. Bradford,” the man said as he glanced outside the door. Lucy quickly caught on to the men guarding the door. She glanced back down at the photos in front of her before turning back to look at the man at the door. 

“D-Diego,” Lucy mumbled as she got up from her seat. 

The man sighed, “I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to help,” he held up his hands. “You can search me and my men, you might find a gun on them, but they know not to do anything stupid, especially inside a police station.” 

“How did you get in here?” 

“It’s fairly easy when you spend your whole life doing these kinds of things,” he smiles before pointing to a chair near Lucy. “May I sit?” 

Lucy nods, “Why are you here?” 

“Like I said I want to help, now how long before Mr. Bradford gets here?” Diego looks at his watch before glancing at Lucy. 

~~ 

“Lucy?” Tim yelled out as he walked into their apartment, he was worried sick after she stopped answering his calls when she had texted Angela to meet at her apartment. 

“Why the hell would she want us to meet here?” Angela asked as she closed the door behind them. 

“Oh good,” Lucy said as she came out from her bedroom, “I know you guys have a lot of quest-” 

“Why did you stop answering my calls?” Tim asked as he pulled Lucy in for a hug. 

“I’m sorry, I just got caught up on-” Lucy realizes mid-sentence that Tim has a tighter grip on her, “I-I’m sorry, Tim.” For a moment, she let it slip that maybe not answering her phone caused panic to surge through Tim’s body. She could only imagine what he could have been thinking on the drive over, the worry he must have felt. 

“ ‘s alright,” Tim says as he lets go of the embrace. 

“Now can I have an explanation as to why all of our documents are in your apartment and not at the station, and how the hell did you get this big ass board here in thirty minutes?” Angela asks. 

“I had some help,” Lucy began to say. 

“Lucy, I can not thank you enough fo-” Diego stops mid-sentence, a smile forming on his face, “Mr. Bradford, it is so nice to finally meet you.” 

“Diego Garcia,” Angela quickly drew out her gun. 

Diego held his hands up, “I come in peace and empty-handed, Detective Lopez.” Angela gave a knowing glance towards Tim, “Yes, you can even search me, even though Lucy here already has.” 

“Twice,” Lucy added. 

“But if it makes you feel better, I’ll allow a third pat down,” Diego smiles. 

Angela holsters her gun, “I’ll trust Lucy’s word,” she says, “now explain.” 

“Well, after you left, Diego showed up and at first he would not tell me anything unless Tim was there, but I managed to get him to tell me some of what he had to say and given the situation, I felt it would be better if we met here. Away from the station, so we could all talk privately,” Lucy explained, she waited for a few seconds for someone to say something. Angela stood there, staring at Lucy like she was trying to make sense of it all. “Well?” 

“I’m still trying to figure out if what you did was stupid or smart,” Angela then looks over at Diego, “and you’re awfully brave for coming into a station considering who you are.” 

Diego smirks, “I am a wise man and as a wise man I know that you only have information on what others have said about me. But I am willing to risk it all if it means that my y/n is safe.” 

Angela turned her head slightly at what Diego had just said, “Surprised you even care when you didn’t even take her in after her parents were brutally murdered.” 

Diego took a deep breath, “I thought it would be for the best that she stayed away from this lifestyle, it’s what my brother would have wanted.” Diego noticed the photos that fell out of one of the folders, he couldn’t help himself as he began to look at them. 

“Then explain why Jesse Ortega has my daughter,” Tim said, “Because for the last few weeks, nothing has been making sense to me.” 

Angela saw the way he looked at those photos like they were his prized possessions, it was then that realization hit her. Nothing was making sense because it wasn’t true. “He doesn’t have to,” Angela said, suddenly understanding. 

Diego looked at her, it was the look in Angela’s eyes that made it clear to him, that she knew the truth. Everything he had heard about how great of a detective Angela was, was finally coming to light. He gave her a nod to continue. 

“I so happened to stumble upon a photo the press took of you and a woman,” Angela took out her phone, sliding through some photos before she landed on the one she needed. She held up the phone, “A woman who looks similar to Y/N, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought this was her mother, but from records, it shows that Isabella, Gael’s wife, is y/n’s mother. Not Camilla, your wife who so happened to pass away around the same time y/n was born.” She received a confused expression from Tim, “You see, The only reason why Jesse would want anything to do with y/n is because she isn’t Gael’s daughter but Diegos,” Angela explained. “But it doesn’t explain why Gael took her here to America to start a new life.” 

Diego sighed, “My wife, may God rest her soul, she passed when y/n was born and I already was worried about raising a child in such a lifestyle, but leaving was harder than it looked. My brother and his wife had wanted to leave for a while, so, I told them to take y/n and leave for the States. My father got word of this and told him he’d give him his blessing if he killed Jesse’s father,” Diego paused, recalling the day it happened like it was just yesterday. “The only person other than my father and brother who knew of y/n’s existence was my best friend, Jesse.” 

“Some best friend you were,” Angela commented, “Why kill his father?” 

“For the same reason, every other narco kills another. Territory. My father, although I loved him, he was greedy. He let the money get to his head and he wanted more. With territory came power, he wanted us to show him how we loved him. In a fucked up way, he only asked of this to have someone else do his dirty work for him,” Diego explained. “My brother was to kill Jesse’s father in exchange for ‘Freedom’ but look where that got him.” 

“Still doesn’t explain why Jesse wants revenge from you if Gael was the one that killed his father,” Lucy commented. 

“Because when it came down to it, my brother couldn’t kill him and I didn’t allow him to. We told my father what he wanted to hear and that’s that.” 

“You killed Jesse’s father,” Tim understood. “That’s why he came after y/n, to hurt you in the same way you hurt him.” 

Diego nodded, “I loved my daughter and I wanted a better life for her. You gave her that,” He said looking at Tim. “Which is why I am here to help you guys find her, what you do with me after that doesn’t matter. All I want is for her to be safe.” 

Tim understood what he meant, the feeling of just wanting his daughter to be safe regardless of what could happen to him. He would do the same in a heartbeat if it meant he could have y/n here safe and sound. 

“How can we trust you?” Angela asked. 

“You can’t, but then what other option do you guys have?” Diego asked. 

Tim sighed, “Do you have any leads on where they might be keeping her?” He ignored the looks he got from Angela and followed Diego over to the board that had all of their leads. 

“Do you trust him?” Angela asked Lucy, they both watched Diego and Tim talk off to the side. 

“If it means getting back y/n, then I do,” Lucy said. 

~~

It’s been over a month. Over a month and y/n had been starved, deprived of water and sleep. She felt like she was going insane as she was held up in a small room with only a mattress on the floor.  For over the past hour, she had listened to the muffled voices outside the door, every moment that passed she had hoped to hear some sort of salvation in this pit of hell. 

The door opened and the man, whom she knew by the name of Hugo, came in and hastily picked y/n up from her position on the mattress. Her heart quickened as she was led into the main room, which to her looked like an old office. 

Before she could muster up the strength to say anything, she heard a voice call out from the end of the room, “She’s the spitting image of her mother,” a man scoffed as he appeared from the shadows. 

Hugo places y/n on a chair, before tying her hands behind her, “W-what’s going on?” 

The man who had just spoken, grabbed y/n by the chin, inspecting the bruise on her eye, “Who did this?” 

“S-Sergio,” Hugo stuttered. “Ya sabes como se enoja,” (you know how he gets angry. 

The man took in a deep breath, “I’ll deal with him later.” his attention focused back on y/n, “I always knew you would grow up to look just like Camilla.” 

“Who’s Camilla?” Y/n asked. 

“Why you’re mother of-” The man smirks, “Of course,” he said in realization, “you still think Isabella and Gael are your actual parents. We have a lot to uncover then.” 

Y/n looked at him with a confused expression, was Gael and Isabella, not her parents? They had raised her, she remembered seeing photos of them with her as a baby, even as a newborn. It didn’t make any sense to her. 

“You must be wondering, ‘Jesse, what do you mean?’ well, let me explain it to you,” Jesse, the man from the shadows, began to explain, “Your real father is Diego, Gael’s brother, your mother died while giving birth to you and so your father, Diego sent you with his brother to the states. Before he did that, the cowards killed my father. I took revenge when I killed Gael, but upon coming up to recent news, I found out that it wasn’t Gael who killed my father, but Diego. So, here I am out seeking revenge for my father’s death again.” 

This all felt too much to unfold, the man who y/n mourned, the one she thought was her father was just her uncle. It didn’t make her feel any less of him, but it made everything… different. 

“What are you going to do with me?” y/n asked. 

“Have you ever been to a rage room y/n? I hear they’re pretty popular in Los Angeles?” Jesse asked as he walked over to a table that was off to the side, on the table y/n could see tools that ranged from hammers to even a drill. 

her eyes widened as the fear crept up within her when she saw Jesse grabbing the hammer. “I’ve always wanted to go to one, let out all the anger I felt since my father’s death. I have let that anger live within me for far too long and I think it’s time to let it out, don’t you think?” Jesse smirked as he glanced over at y/n. 

~~

 Over the past week, Diego, Tim, Lucy, and Angela had spent most of their time in Lucy’s apartment. Diego calls people one after the other trying to figure out where Jesse could be holding y/n. He felt it was somewhere in Mexico, given that Jesse rarely came to the States unless something went wrong with his shipment. For the most part, it was Diego’s men who searched every lead they had in Mexico, it wasn’t until today that they finally had a breakthrough. 

Diego came rushing into the apartment, “I got something!” he yelled, phone in his hand as he rushed over to Tim. Diego hesitated, “I-I don’t know if you should look, it was even hard for me to see this photo.” 

Tim prepared himself for what he would see, “Show me.” 

“Tim,” Angela warned with concern in her voice. 

He shook his head, “No, Angela, I need to see her.” 

Diego showed them the photo of y/n. In the photo, she was tied to a chair, she was bruised from head to toe, with blood covering most of her body. Tim held back a sob as he read the sign that was hung around her neck. 

‘Esto es para mi papa,’ it read. (This is for my father)

“The window in the back shows the ocean. I know that view from anywhere. It’s where me and Jesse met for the first time, where our friendship began and ended,” Diego explained. “I can get you on a plane there tonight.” 

“No, if this is where she is at, we have to do this the right way,” Angela began. “The LAPD-” 

“The LAPD doesn’t have jurisdiction in Mexico, if anything you would have to call the feds and you know the feds wouldn’t care about a little girl that is kidnapped unless there is a big bust for them.” 

Tim sighed, “he’s right.” 

“So we just join him to Mexico?” Angela asks. 

“We take matters into our own hands like we did to save you.” 

Angela thought about it for a moment, she knew what they were doing was risky, but it was a risk Tim was willing to take to get his daughter back. A risk they made to get Angela back when she was kidnapped not too long ago too. 

“Alright,” Angela said. 

It wasn’t long until they were on the plane to Mexico City where Diego said the old office was. Tim and Angela mentally prepared themselves for what was about to happen, one they didn’t know if they could trust the people they were with, and second, they didn’t know what kind of condition y/n would be in. 

Lucy wanted to join them but decided to stay back just in case. She was in constant communication with Tim just in case something were to happen. 

“We’re almost there,” Diego announces as he comes back from the cockpit area and takes a seat on one of the chairs. “My men are ready to meet us at the landing zone, we will head straight to the building when we land,” he began to explain. “I’ll have a paramedic waiting nearby to take care of any injuries on y/n.” 

“You can pull those kind of strings?” Tim asked. 

“With the right kind of money, yes,” Diego smirked. 

Angela scoffed, “I have a question for you,” Diego nodded for her to continue, “Why let Gael take y/n? Why not live a life outside of this business with your daughter?” 

Diego sighed, placing the glass of alcohol back down on the small table in front of him, “Because my brother and his wife could give her something I never could have.” 

“What’s that?” Tim asked. 

“Family.” 

“I disagree, I think you don’t need a mom and a dad to be a family. It’s ideal, but look at where she’s at now, no offense, Tim,” Angela said. 

Diego nodded in agreement, “Alright, you caught me.” He took a swig of his drink before placing the now-empty glass back down, “The first week was the hardest,” Diego admitted. “Then as she began to grow, I just couldn’t do it. She reminded me so much of Camilla… It hurt to even look at her. Gael and Isabella couldn’t have kids and the way they always loved her as her own, I just felt like they would have given her the love I couldn’t give her.” 

Tears began to form in his eyes, “and I was right. I was told Gael and Isabella died trying to protect y/n. They made sure she was hidden so she wouldn’t be” Diego choked on his words, “I don’t regret the decision I made, I just regret that I couldn’t save them.” 

“Patron, Hemos aterrizado, ” (Boss, we’ve landed) One of the flight attendants said to Diego, quickly walking back over to the flight attendant station in the front of the plane. 

“That’s our ten-minute mark,” Angela commented. 

Tim felt his heartbeat quicken, anxious to get out of this plane and find y/n. He felt every minute that went by was a minute too long, a minute too late. 

~~ 

Y/n cried out in pain as Jesse backed away, he shook his hand, wincing in pain. 

“Ah, don’t worry, little y/n. Soon enough you won’t be feeling any more pain,” Jesse winked as he walked back over to the table. For the past week since Jesse had made an appearance, it had been constant torture for y/n. The only break she had was when Jesse left to go eat or sleep, otherwise he found entertainment in torturing her with different techniques. 

“P-Please,” y/n begged. 

He jammed a knife into the table, he let out an annoyed groan before grabbing a piece of cloth that was nearby. Walking over to y/n, Jesse jammed the cloth into her mouth and then tied it on the back of her head. 

“That’s better,” he smiled, walking back over to the table. He grabs the knife again and walks over to y/n, “Cuando yo estaba mas joven,” Jesse began to say, “when I was about your age actually, the girls used to grab a knife and make these marks on their skin,” he traced the knife along Y/n’s wrists, “Ahh, just like these,” he says as he traces the white lines that were scattered along y/n’s wrists. Scars that told of a past of darkness that she once battled. 

“Let’s have some fun,” he winked, letting the knife sink into y/n’s skin along her abdomen, she screamed into the piece of cloth that was in her mouth. Jesse let go of the knife, leaving it in her abdomen, walking back over to the table, and grabbing a large bowl of water.

Jesse walked back over to Y/n, she frantically shook her head, knowing exactly what he was thinking. He smirks as he dunks her head in the bowl, leaving it there for a minute before letting her back up for air. 

Y/n tried her best to hold her breath, but with her mouth being gagged she found it more difficult than the last time. She hoped he was done for the night, that any moment he would walk out of that room. 

“Can’t forget about this,” Jesse comments as he takes the knife out of y/n’s abdomen causing a rush of blood to ooze out. 

The door abruptly opens, “We’ve got a problem,” Hugo says with urgency. 

“Can’t you handle it?” Jesse says through gritted teeth. 

Hugo shakes his head, “It’s Diego, he’s here and he has company.” 

Jesse groans in frustration, walking over to the table to drop off the bowl and knife. He sees a piece of rope, it is now or never, and he grabs it. 

~~ 

Tim followed one of Diego’s men through the building, searching room by room for y/n. He was surprised by the small amount of guards that were within the building so far, it could only mean that the main floor would have more. 

Jose, the man who was taking the lead, led them to the final and top floor. Tim could hear a couple of shots before he heard people grunting, “She’s in here!” Jose yells out. Tim looked back at Angela who nodded for him to go as she walked over to one of Diego’s men who had one of Jesse’s men on the ground. 

Tim quickly rushed into the room Jose had called out from, he scanned the room, seeing Jose with Jesse on the ground. Then his eyes darted to the small figure on the chair, “Y/N!” He calls out as he runs over to her, quickly untying her hands. Y/n slumps over in her seat, Tim is quick to lean her body against him, helping her onto the floor. 

“Hon, it’s me,” he says, not getting a response from y/n. “Come on, baby girl, you gotta wake up for me,” the tears began to form in his eyes, he felt for a pulse, it was weak but it was there. He looks over at Jesse, “What did you do?!” 

Jesse smirks, his eyes darting over to the door. Tim looks behind him to see Diego at the door, “Ojo por ojo.” (an eye for an eye) 

Diego felt the anger rise within him, he felt like he was on autopilot as he pulled the gun out from his back holster, pointing it at Jesse without hesitation, he pulled the trigger. 

“Now we’re even,” Diego mutters. He pulls his attention back over to Y/n and Tim, quickly noticing the pull of blood forming before them, “she’s bleeding,” he quickly takes off his coat, handing it to Tim. 

Tim presses the coat on the stab wound, “we need to get her to the paramedic,” Diego says. Tim picks Y/n up, following Diego down the flight of stairs and outside to the paramedics. Tim got into the ambulance with Y/n, he held her hand throughout the whole ride. 

He couldn’t help but notice the condition her body was in, the scars on her body, the bruises, and the mark that was red around her neck. If they had been a second late, she probably would’ve been gone. No, Tim couldn’t think that way. She’s safe now, she’s alive and she’s with him. 

~~ 

Tim stayed by y/n’s side every single day at the hospital. It had been a couple of days and she had yet to wake up, the doctors said it was due to her injuries, but Tim was worried it could be something worse. Eventually, they were given the okay to transfer back to the States. 

To Tim’s surprise, Diego never made an appearance at the hospital in Mexico City. He kept his promise, he helped them find y/n, and to Tim, that was all that mattered. 

Once they were back in the States, Tim couldn’t find the courage to leave y/ns bedside still. He continued to wait for her to wake up, the doctors told him to give her body time to recover but just wanted to hear her voice. He wanted her to know that he was sorry. 

“Wake up,” Tim whispered as he gently placed his hand on the side of y/n’s face, “You need to wake up, hon.” 

Tim felt his eyes getting the best of him, he let out a deep sigh as he laid back in his chair. Lettin sleep overcome him. 

It was only an hour after Tim had fallen asleep that y/n began to wake up, the lights from the room blinded her as she opened her eyes, an instant headache. y/n groaned, wincing from the brightness, “Dad?” she called out. 

Tim thought it was odd that the elephant in his dream was calling him dad, slowly he was driven out of his dreams and jumped up. He frantically looked around, “Dad?” he heard y/n say. 

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” Tim announced, getting up from his seat and running out to the hall, “she’s awake!” he announced to one of the nurses, and they both rushed back into the room together. 

The nurse quickly checked y/n’s vitals and her stitches, “We’ll have to do some more testing, but from what I can tell, you’ll be making a full recovery,” she announced with a smile. “I’ll be back to check on you in an hour, let me know if you need anything,” she smiles as she walks out of the room. 

Tim pulls you in for a hug, careful not to hurt her further, “you’re awake,” he breathed out. 

y/n let out a relieved breath, holding onto Tim as tight as she could. y/n felt tears brimming her eyes as a sob escaped her lips. Tim rubbed small circles on her back, “I-I thought I was never gonna see you again,” she sobs. 

Tim places a small kiss on the top of her forehead, “You’re safe now,” he says as he lies on the bed with y/n, never letting go of her hug. “That’s all that matters to me right now.” 

“How did you find me?” 

“We had some help,” Tim explains. 

“Was it from Diego?” Tim looked at her with a surprised expression, “Jesse told me everything, he knew Diego was on his trail.” 

“Diego mentioned that,” Tim sighed, “How do you feel?” 

“Like I’m probably gonna need therapy for the rest of my life,” she comments, letting out a small chuckle. 

Tim couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’ll get you the best therapist there is, I’ll even get you a thousand stuffed animals if that makes you feel better for a thousand minutes. Hell, I’ll even get you another dog, I don’t care, just as I know you are home and you are safe and sound.” 

Y/n couldn’t help but smile, but it soon falters, “Do we have to talk about what happened?” she asks. 

“Not if you don’t want to, I’ll understand if you want to talk to a therapist instead. What you went through was heavy and…. I’ll understand.” 

She nods, Tim watches as her mind wanders off, “I thought I was gonna die,” she begins to say, “and for a moment all I could think about was missing you. Missing our Sunday brunches with Kojo and even missing our softball practices.” She looks at Tim with tears in her eyes, “I was so scared.” 

“I should’ve been able to protect you,” Tim whispers. “I’m so sorry, y/n.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Y/n says, “I don’t blame you at all for any of it, you’ve always been there. You’ve protected me from the first moment I met you and you have never stopped.” 

Tim felt a surge of love and pride within him, he had helped raise a brave young woman whom he was proud to call his daughter. 

“I love you,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss on y/n’s forehead, his voice choking with emotion. “You are indeed the strongest person I know and I will always be here for you, no matter what.” 

Y/n leaned against his shoulder, and the two of them lay there in silence for a moment before turning the T.V. on. He knew that he was going to need to help her through the tough times ahead, juggling a normal life with school and friends while also dealing with this trauma. Tim knew the next few months were not going to be easy, but he was more than willing to be the rock y/n needed to get through this. It all seemed fine now, but he knew the emotional toll a traumatic event like this could be on a grown adult, but imagine a teenager. 

It was a lot to take in and it was going to be a lot of therapy. 

For now, all that mattered to Tim was that Y/N was found and she was now safe and sound. 

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x teen!reader #tim bradford x you #the rookie #tim bradford teen!reader #tim bradford x teen!reader angst #tim bradford angst #tim bradford x adopted!daughter #tim bradford x daughter!reader #tim bradford x reader angst #tim bradford x daughter!reader angst #tim bradford oneshot #lucy chen #tim bradford

[absurdthirst]

Simply Din Djarin {Mando x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Nudity, skinny dipping, beskar-less Din, lying, first kisses, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, angst

Comments: Din decides to spend a week on a remote planet, sans armor to swim in the waters and come to terms with what he needs to do. Meeting you when you come to your swimming hole, things become intimate and you have no idea the handsome naked man in front of you is a Mandalorian. He's simply Din Djarin.

✨Who's excited for Season 3 of The Mandalorian? WE ARE!!!! ✨

A/N: This entire story is based of this NSFW GIF. What can we say? We're thots.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || The Mandalorian MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s a gorgeous sunny day on Bellassa, the lakes shine and with Grogu safe with the other young ones of the town, Din felt secure enough to seek out the lake. It’s deserted, no one is around, so he methodically strips off his beskar, removes his flight suit and allows this one and only moment so far in his life to let the sun hit every part of his body. 

Completely naked, he sighs in bliss, and after hiding his helmet and armor, he walks towards the shore. The cool water hits his feet, then his calves, then his thighs, until he’s waist deep. He’s never felt so free. The sun warms him and he tilts his head back, enjoying this moment without the galaxy on his beskar-clad shoulders. Dipping beneath the water, he starts to swim and revels in the feel of the cool water and the absolute silence. It’s paradise and Din knows he will be doing this again before he leaves Bellassa. 

When he breaks the surface, he inhales deeply and his eyes widen when he sees you walking towards the shore, also naked, and fuck, you’re gorgeous. He knows he should dip under the water, try to get out of sight before you see him without his beskar, but then he imagines meeting someone as plain Din Djarin. He often wonders who he would’ve been if the Mandalorians didn’t take him in. Would he have been a tradesman? Maybe he would’ve been a Rebel? Would he have a family? It makes his head spin sometimes and ultimately, he decides to pretend to be plain Din Djarin, not Mando. 

“Oh Maker!” You shriek when you see his face and you rush to cover yourself up under the water. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Din apologizes in a rush and you shiver at the cold water, 

“I haven’t seen anyone here…ever. I- I didn’t know that anyone else knew about this place. Sorry. You- you scared me.”

“I just arrived last night.” Din confesses, motioning towards the forest where his Starfighter is hidden. Grogu is still sleeping there and he shakes his head.” “I’m sorry again.” He murmurs softly. “The water was too tempting.” 

“It’s- it’s okay.” You swim back a few feet, putting some distance between you and the strange, handsome man. “I understand, I wanted to swim as well.” You introduce yourself and tilt your head at the man, finding his bashful expression to be charming. He didn’t seem like he posed a threat. “What is your name?”

He hesitates for just a second, knowing he shouldn’t give his name but you don’t seem like a threat. “Din Djarin.” He answers and you hum, repeating his name. Hearing you say it, so innocently and sweet, has his stomach twisting. “You are from Bellassa?” He asks and you nod.

“I’ve never left. I like it here. It’s peaceful. Warm and safe. What more could a girl ask for?” You tease softly, waving your arms through the water, and Din nods, a soft smile on his face. You seem so untouched by the horrors of the galaxy. 

“Not much more, I suppose. Does your family live here? Your - your partner?” He asks, a little out of practice with small talk. Most of the time he lets his fists do the talking and he grunts or has a one word answer. 

“My family lives here. My parents, my brothers and sisters. I - I don’t have a partner.” You tell him bashfully.

Din knows that his face gives away every little thought that he’s feeling. Surprise rides across it now. You are gorgeous, why wouldn’t you have a partner? “I’m here with my- my son.” He offers. “He’s like my son.” He clarifies as he realizes it sounds like he is married. “I don’t have a partner either.”

You frown, certain that a man like him would have a significant other. “Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing that neither of us have a partner because we’d have to explain why we are both swimming naked in a lake.” You giggle, loving how you can see every micro expression on his face. So many people keep their face impassive but his brown eyes show everything.

Din nods seriously, seeing how that could be a problem. “Do you swim here a lot?” He asks curiously, encouraged by the fact that you haven’t left or tried to move away from him. He’s not drifted closer, content with floating in his own area and enjoying the water engulfing him.

You nod, “every day if I can. I love how peaceful it is. It’s nice to escape and just be left to my own thoughts.” 

Din sputters, “oh I’m so sorry. I’ll go.” 

You shake your head, shifting a little closer to him, “no. No. You can stay. It’s nice to talk to someone. Tell me, what do you do, Din?” You ask him, certain he will say he’s a Rebel. He has that look about him.

“I- I’m a moisture farmer.” He thinks of Quill and nods. “On Tatooine. Supplying water to Mos Eisley.” It’s a lie, but it feels good not to have you freeze up at the knowledge that he’s a bounty hunter. Most people either want to fight him or run from him.

You sense a hesitation but you are innocent to the terrors of the galaxy. Safe on your small planet that seemed untouched by the Empire. Maybe they didn’t think it was significant enough. You’ve heard of Tatooine and know it’s a desert planet. “Wow. You- you must have seen a lot of the galaxy.” You shift closer again, curious about him. “Tell me the best place you’ve been to. I - I haven’t left the planet so I need to live through you.”

Din admires the whimsical smile on your face and wishes he could be so carefree, so unjaded by this life. “Naboo.” He murmurs softly, remembering the lush green and blue planet. The waters remind him of this lake. “Although this is a close second.” He bites his lip and flusters when he realizes how you can interpret that. It’s so much easier to think these things and stay silent behind the helmet.

You grin, liking that he has enjoyed your planet so far. “I wouldn’t mind visiting Tatooine one day.” You admit and tilt your head up towards the sun, the water rippling as you kick your legs out to float. You are uncaring of your nudity, knowing that a man as well traveled as Din should have been a variety of figures. You are here to relax, wanting to forget about your troubles.

“It’s all sand.” Din’s mouth is as dry as the Dune Sea, watching your nude body float on the water. Your nipples are perked up and he imagines sucking on them. His cock starts to harden, making him reach down and cup himself to try to make his reaction to you go away. You want to enjoy yourself, not be gawked at. “It wouldn’t be as refreshing as this.”

You close your eyes, enjoying the peace and unaware of the Mandalorian's struggle. You sigh when you open your eyes to see the sun shifting towards the horizon. "I should be heading home. My parents worry even though I am old enough to join the Rebellion." You joke and shift to head back to shore. Again, you care little for your nudity as you reach for your towel, aware of those dark eyes watching you. "Your son shall be awaiting your return too, I imagine?" You hum, drying off your body.

Din scoffs. “Little gremlin sleeps nearly all the time.” He huffs fondly, knowing that he will be hungry when he wakes up. That and will be ready to cause trouble. His eyes flirt over your body and he looks away, aware that if he keeps staring, he will get hard again. He doesn’t come out of the water completely, just to his chest and he glances back at you again. “It - it was nice to meet you.” He offers, frowning slightly at how ridiculous he sounds when he’s not hidden behind his armor.

You giggle at his expression, sliding your feet into your sandals. “You too, Din Djarin.” You wink and know he wants privacy to get out, so unlike the openness of your home planet. You make your way home, thinking of the handsome traveler. 

****

When Din returns to Grogu, the little gremlin is awake and eating the hidden box of crackers Din had stowed for snack emergencies with the kid. “I know. I lost track of time.” Din sighs, now dressed in his beskar. Grogu coos, tilting his head at Din.

The cracker in his claw, Grogu toddles over to where Din is standing and holds onto his boot until he bends down and picks him up. He shoves the cracker in his mouth and reaches out and touches the helmet and coos again, making Din sigh as he thinks about today.

**** 

You spend all day thinking about Din and decide to go back to the lake for your daily swim. You smile when you see him in the water already. “Hello Din. Long time no see.” You tease, working on stripping off to get into the water.

“Yes, such a long time.” Din can’t hide the smirk that he has as he watches you strip. You obviously have no issue baring your body and he’s curious as to why. “Is everyone on your planet like you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously.

You nod, knowing what he means. “We believe that the body should be admired. It is our true blessing. We are alive, we are here and that itself is a blessing. No one is ashamed of their body as every day is a gift. Our culture is not one of constant nudity but we are proud of our bodies, no matter how they look.” You explain, kicking aside your pants and you quickly walk towards the shore to step into the water. “Are Tatooians not happy to bare themselves?” You question him, wondering if his culture is more conservative than yours.

“This is the first time someone has seen me bare since-“ he shakes his head. “Since I was a child.” He admits quietly. “Tatooine has two suns, your skin would be dry and burnt under the fiery suns. Staying covered keeps you protected.” He explains, although he doesn’t tell you that no one has seen his face beyond when he had become an apostate because he is Mandalorian. Broken his creed. He has to put the helmet back on and redeem himself in the waters of Mandalore, but for now, it’s pleasant having you look at his face.

Your eyes widen, “no one has seen you? Not even a lover?” You ask him, surprised that no one has caressed every inch of his body. “Surely you have had lovers caress your body?” You ask with curiosity and confusion.

“No one.” He’s not celibate, he’s had sex. Normally in the back of a cantina or some dusty alleyway. Only baring his cock and taking them from behind. No one had touched his skin until Grogu had when he was leaving with the Jedi.

Your eyebrows raise, “no one?” You’re shocked. He’s so handsome and you’re certain that any lover he chooses would be lucky to have him, you know you’d want him to want you again. Biting your lip, you shift closer. “Can I- can I touch you?” You ask softly and he hesitates, you see it in his eyes until he nods once. You shift even closer until you’re standing in front of him, the water covering your chests but you reach up to caress his cheek. His eyes close and you feel him shudder. There’s nothing but the sound of the waves and the breeze as your hand trails down to caress his neck, featherlight touches to his skin while you slowly move your hand down to his clavicle where you see the scars. “You were in fights?” You question him, tracing a scar.

“Some.” He reminds himself that you don’t know about the beskar that is hidden in a bundle surrounded by his cape in the cave. You don’t know that most tremble and scatter like rats when he walks through the towns he arrives in. You just see a man in front of you, one that you are obviously attracted to. He knows that look in someone’s eyes. He groans when you fingers brush over a nipple delicately, his cock twitching in interest. 

You smile softly when he groans, adding your other hand to the effort of caressing him. You trail your hands along his chest, pressing your palms onto it so you can feel his rapid heartbeat. “Can I kiss you?” You ask softly, meeting his eye and he inhales sharply. He has never been kissed before. He doesn’t know if you’ll be happy with his kiss but he nods and you carefully lean in to brush your lips against his.

Din shudders, inhaling as your lips caress his and his hand comes to hover around the back of your neck before he touches you. Groaning when your kiss firms up, and his eyes flutter closed, just absorbing the almost overwhelming sensation of your lips on his. The idea that his lips might be dry has him sliding his tongue out to wet them and gasping when your tongue touches his. 

He seems so hesitant and you enjoy how he exhales into your mouth when you become bolder, sliding your tongue into his mouth. Your hands slide up to wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss languidly, in no rush to move things along. You like how sloppy he is, making you feel in control, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it.

The moan Din lets out is pathetic, nearly a whimper but you seem to know that he loved it. Pulling on his hair again and moving closer to him. His cock is rock hard, poking you in the stomach as you press against him. Making him blush as he pulls away, “sorry.” He rasps out, hating that he can’t control himself.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” You promise, “I like it. I like that I’ve affected you so much.” You press yourself against him, trapping his cock between you. Loving how big he feels against your tummy. “Tell me what you want, Din.” You murmur, pressing kisses along his jaw.

Din’s lashes flutter and he moans, his cock pulsing against the soft skin of your belly. “I want-“ he starts, panting when you nibble on his ear. “Dank ferik.” He hisses. “I want to- to let you touch me. To touch you.” He’s touched people before but it’s always been through the layer of his glove. “Fuck you.”

You smile against his skin, able to read him like a book but you love hearing him say he wants to fuck you. "I want you to fuck me." You confess, kissing along his neck and you reach between you to wrap your fingers around his cock, squeezing him. "You can touch me wherever you want." You tell him breathily, desperate to feel his hands on you.

Din hisses, barely able to keep from thrusting into your grip. “Fuck, fuck.” He feels you wrap your legs around his waist and he loves the way your skin slides against his. Turning to sluice through the water to shore, he ducks his head and starts kissing any part of you his lips can touch. Carefree in a way Din has never been before, able to just feel and prioritize pleasure over everything else. It’s freeing, you’re freeing.

He lays you down on the sand and you caress his back as he kisses along your chest, down to your breasts. He’s sloppy and eager, making you gasp his name as he takes your nipple into his mouth. You can tell he’s fumbling but his enthusiasm makes up for it. “Maker.” You pant, arching your back into his mouth and his cock twitches against your thigh.

Din has never tasted anything like the taste of your skin, covered in the fresh water and sand. It’s musky and salty, making his moan as his tongue flicks over the hard peak of your breast. Your response spurs him on and he wants to keep suckling at you until you push him away.

You push at his chest and shift so he lays down. He follows your silent request, pliable and eyes full of awe. It makes you feel powerful and wanted. You shift to straddle him, bending over to kiss along his chest. “Din. You are so beautiful.” You lick along the various scars and blemishes covering his skin until you are kneeling between his thighs. You wrap your hand around his impressive cock, fingers not able to touch with how girthy he is, and you lean in to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

“Dank ferik!” Din whines, eyes blown wide and entire body jolting in pleasure. Without the armor on, he’s stripped of all his defenses and unable to stop himself from talking. “Fuck, oh fuck.” He pants, digging his fingers into the sand under him to keep from grabbing you. Your breasts rub against his thighs and he swears that you are a sorcerer, just like the Jedi, as you lap at his cock. He’s never trusted someone to suck his cock, it made him too vulnerable, but you think he’s just a man and he can’t believe this is what he’s been missing.

You love how wrecked he looks and you haven't even started. Deciding to take him deeper, you widen your jaw and look up to meet his dark gaze, his mouth open as he pants out harsh breaths. It's gorgeous and you want him to remember this moment forever. You want to sear this into his memory. You can sense he's holding back so you lift off of his cock, "you can touch me," you tell him and resume your attempts to take him deeper down your throat.

His hand shoots down to cradle your jaw, cupping it and pressing his fingers to the hinge of your jaw. Making you open your mouth so he can see his cock. “Fuuuuuuck.” He hisses, overwhelmed by how good you look like that. “Are you enjoying sucking my cock?” He groans out.

You hum around him, letting him know you do. You usually don't do this. Your last boyfriend was - Maker knows how long ago. You aren't one for casual but Din seems to bring something out inside of you. You whimper when he grabs the back of your neck and pushes you further down his cock. You choke but try to breathe through your nose to swallow around him.

“Fuck- I - I never -I never had someone do this.” He growls out the confession, eyes burning into yours. You seem to make him want to confess everything, to bare himself even more. “So good.” He pants. “I want to try.” He promises you. “After- after I fuck you.”

You moan around his cock, looking forward to touching you. You’re dripping wet and aching for his touch. His hands are surprisingly soft, making you think he wears gloves. “Fuck. I- I don’t want to cum down your throat.” He admits, knowing he won’t last long if you keep sucking him like that. You reluctantly pull off of him, not wanting this to end too soon, and you kiss up his stomach, loving the slight belly he has, and you eventually press your lips to his. Straddling him so his cock is pressed between you.

He isn’t a virgin, but there is something that about the way you notch his cock at your entrance and start to stink down on him has his toes curling into the sand. His fingers dig into your hips and he groans your name as his voice breaks. It’s hot and tight and wet, probably more so because he can feel everything. Nothing is hidden behind the layers.

You moan, sinking down onto him until he’s fully inside of you. Your walls flutter around him, and you whimper his name. Your hands caress his chest, admiring the tattoo he has etched into his skin. “Feel so good.” You pant and lift your hips, starting a slow pace to ride his cock.

The view is different without that display from his helmet. The colors are more brilliant and without any of the information coming up on the screen. He just…watches. You’re gorgeous as you gallop on his cock, using him for your own pleasure and giving him more than he ever dreamed possible. Making him try to move with you, chasing the heat of your cunt when you lift off of him.

You love how his fingers will leave bruises, how you’ll know he was inside of you tomorrow with every move you make. “Oh Maker. You- you feel so good.” You pant and rock your hips, leaning forward to press your chest against his, your lips seeking his with an eagerness you’ve never felt.

Din jerks his head back on instinct and then lunges forward to kiss you. Most often someone coming towards his face was either trying to remove his helmet or head butt him. Not with you though. Your tongue slides into his mouth again and he twitches deep inside you. Moaning into your mouth as he sloppily tries to copy the flicks of your tongue.

You don’t care that he seems inexperienced, you love being able to take control, to show him what to do. His tongue flicks against yours and you grind back onto him. “Fuck.” You pant into his mouth when the new angle has his pelvis grinding into your clit and his cock angled against that spot inside of you that makes you cry out against his mouth.

The second that Din feels you clench around him, he knows that this is the angle that is going to make you cum. Grabbing the back of your neck, he angles his hips to keep pressure on your clit, loving how you grind down on him. You’re more enthusiastic and responsive than any other person he’s fucked. Making him want to make you scream his name. A memory he can take with him when he leaves.

You squeal, letting him position you, and you frantically grind back onto him. You’re so close. You pant, eyes squeezed shut, until you’re crying out against his jaw. “Fuck!” You wail, clamping down on his cock, thighs shaking and you can’t seem to move anymore, your body freezing as you clamp down on his cock and soak him.

“Dank ferik!” Din wraps his arms around you, thankful that the water had hard packed the sand right where he is laying. Letting him thrust up into you when you seem incapable of moving. Loving how your moans pitch up in octave every time he fills you to the hilt. Every nerve ending in his body alight with need as he chases his own release.

“I- I have an implant. Cum inside of me. Please. Cum inside of me.” You plead, letting him use your body and extend your orgasm. “Please Din.” You ramble, pressing your lips to his, loving how he’s holding you close.

“Fuck, Mesh’la.” Din gasps against your lips and his hips work even harder, pistoning up as hard as he can. Tightening his hold on you while the loud squelch of your cunt is all he can hear along with the roaring thunder starting to build in his blood. “Gonna- fuck, gonna fill you uuuuuuup!” He cries out, body tightening as he pulls you down in his cock one last time and stays buried inside you, pumping you full of his cum.

You collapse against him, head pressed against his as his cock pulses inside of you, and you sigh against his chin. “Fuck.” You pant, out of breath, and when his cock finally stops pulsing, you kiss his jaw. You’re exhausted and boneless but in an incredible way. “Maker. That was - wow.” You giggle, amazed that he made you cum so hard. No other lover has made you feel like this.

Din hums, closing his eyes and panting as he tries to catch his breath. Stroking your back lazily because he’s unable to stop touching you. “Very…wow.” He agrees, more relaxed than he’s ever been in his life. The water laps at his feet gently and the breeze cools his heated skin. It’s paradise and he’s reluctant to move from this spot.

You kiss him softly, glad he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and you are about to slide your tongue into his mouth when you hear a coo. You pull back, looking up to see a small creature with big eyes and even bigger ears staring at you and Din. “Maker!” You shriek, shifting off of Din and you grab your towel to cover yourself up.

“Grogu.” Din had rolled over, about to face whatever danger was coming bare assed, only to be faced with his son. He drops his head slightly as the baby starts toddling over. “This is- this is my son.” Din explains. “I care for him.” Reaching out as soon as the baby toddles close enough, he snatches him up. Watching as the large black eyes get even wider and he coos as he reaches a three fingered claw out to touch Din’s face. “Sorry, he was still asleep.” He tells you. “You know you’re supposed to stay with the ship.” He scolds Grogu lightly, aware the child does what he wants.

You step closer now you know it’s his son. “He looks just like you.” You tease and Din snorts. You reach out to gently caress his ear and he coos at you, reaching up to press his claw to your face, his other hand still pressed to Din’s. You feel a surge of electricity run through you and you gasp, your eyes meeting Din’s. “What was that?” You ask, eyes wide and Din sets Grogu down to grab a towel. 

“Nothing.” Din rushes out and you are confused by his change in demeanor. 

“I will see you tomorrow?” You ask and he nods, picking Grogu up again. “Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.” You wave at the child who coos and offers you a toothy smile.

“You can’t do that.” Din scolds as he walks back to the cave where his armor is hidden. “Your Jedi powers shouldn’t be used on everyone.” Grogu coos up at him and Din sighs, knowing the child is hungry “yes, we’ll get you something to eat.” He tells him, wondering if he will see you tomorrow. 

****

“Dank ferik.” Din moans, sitting up this time with you in his lap, his cock buried inside you as he bites along your shoulder. “So fucking good, don’t want to leave.”

“Don’t.” You beg breathlessly, rocking your hips and your hands grip his shoulders, “don’t leave. I don’t want you to go.” You confess, pressing your lips to his, sliding your tongue into his mouth. Your hips rock against his, nails scratching his skin.

He doesn’t want to go, he wants to stay here with you, but the Darksaber is in his possession. He was the leader of Mandalore. He needed to unite his people and more importantly, he needed to redeem himself in the Living Waters of Mandalore. “Have to.” He gasps when the kiss is broken. “Have to- to move on.”

You hate that he has to go. Certain you could love him. You’ve talked, in the aftermath of your lovemaking, you talk about the galaxy and your family, and he tells you what he can but you can sense he’s holding back. “Stay.” You plead, wishing you could convince him even though you can tell he has to go. You cup his cheeks, pressing your lips to his, and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass.

Din groans, wishing that he could, leaning in and kissing you harshly. Biting your bottom lip and then soothing it with his tongue as he rocks his hips up. “I would.” He gasps out. “If-if things were different. I would stay.” He imagines it, staying and raising Grogu here and marrying you. Having children with you and raising them without his helmet.

You feel tears sting in your eyes, knowing that this man will be leaving tomorrow. It makes your heart break. You have fallen for him and you know it’s going to hurt you to watch him go when you could so easily picture spending the rest of your life with him. You don’t say another word as you focus on how he feels inside of you, wanting to memorize the smallest detail, down to his breathing and the way he smells, his scars and the way his hands caress your skin. “Oh Maker.” You pant, feeling yourself getting close and you whimper, not wanting to cum because when you do, he will and you know he will leave you.

There’s a desperation in the way you move together. The week spent swimming and fucking meaning more to him that he could ever explain. Feeling closer to you than anyone, ever. Din holds you close, rocking his hips up and mumbling words into your skin. Praises, words in Mando'a. Telling you how he feels without voicing the words. His grip bruising and his kisses desperate.

You don’t recognize what he is murmuring into your skin, words like “mesh’la” and “cyar’ika” and “riduur.” You don’t know what they mean but the way he says them has you clinging to him. “Oh fuck. Din. Im going to -” You grind down on top of him and stop, not wanting to cum just yet. 

“Come on baby.” He murmurs, grabbing your ass to help you move and you let him drag you down and lift you on his cock. 

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Fu-” You choke, burying your face in his neck as you clamp down on his cock.

Din groans out your name, cumming right behind you. Holding you tight as he rolls his hips up and empties himself into you. Loving how you take every drop of his cum and whine as his seed coats your walls. Holding onto you and wrapping himself around you as both ride out your high.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, and you feel his heart beating as fast as yours. You don’t say a word, just breathe him in, and you savor these last moments you’ll have with him before you return him. You’re not sure you could ever come to this beach again to swim after he leaves, he will haunt you here.

“This has been the best time of my life, mesh’la.” Din murmurs softly, his hands splayed across your back as he holds you against him. Not wanting to break the contact because it will be the last time he touches you like this. Skin to skin. He pulls back and stares into your eyes. “I’ll never forget it.” He can’t promise to come back, he doesn’t know what will happen, and he doesn’t want you to wait for a ghost.

You kiss him, soft and sweet, and you delay his departure back to his ship for as long as possible, memorizing those dark brown eyes, tracing his tattoo and the way he smiles when you run your finger along his nose. When the breeze turns cold, you shiver and he lifts you off of his lap, “come on, cyar'ika. Let’s get dressed.” He grunts as he stands up, reaching for your clothes, and you slowly dress. 

Once you’re dressed, you reach up to cup his cheek, “goodbye Din. May the force be with you.” You murmur, recognizing the force in Grogu and you haven’t asked him any questions but you assume that his son is part of the reason he has to leave.

“May…the force be with you.” Din murmurs, trying to school his face so the shock isn’t obvious. Reaching for you one last time, he pulls you close and kisses you tenderly, not a kiss of passion but one of love. “Take care of yourself, cyar'ika.” He begs softly, letting you go and turning around so he can walk to the caves to get dressed for the last time on this planet.

****

It’s been a restless night, tossing and turning when you think of Din leaving you in the morning and you know you can’t let him go. You’ll follow him across the galaxy, no questions asked. You wake up as the sun rises, rushing to get ready and gather a pack full of things. You say goodbye to your family, acting like it’s another day, and rush to the place you know his ship is parked. “Din! Din!” You shout, rushing up to the only ship in the clearing and you pant to try and catch your breath. A few months later, a man clad in armor appears and your heart stops, making you backup a little. “I- I’m looking for Din Djarin.”

Underneath the mask, Din had broken out into a smile before he appeared in front of you. Happy to hear your voice and hoping that you were going to tell him that you would come with him. That you wanted to be with him wherever he had to go. Until he steps out and your face changes. He sees the fear fill your eyes and you step back from him, wary of the man in front of you. Mando. The same reaction he gets from most. Instead of removing his helmet, Din shakes his head, lowering his voice through the modulator. “He left.” He tells you curtly, heart aching because he knows that he loves you. It’s for the best though, you are scared of the beskar, scared of who he really is. Din Djarin is just an illusion.

Your heart breaks at the news that Din has already left. The Mandalorian looks like he could snap you in two and you know he won’t want you sobbing in front of him. “Oh, uh, okay. If - if you happen to see him, can you tell him I wanted to come with him? If you see him…tell him I love him.” You tell the Mandalorian even though you know he would likely never see Din, you felt like you had to tell someone. Even if it was the imposing beskar clad Mando.

He doesn’t trust himself to answer, instead he just nods once. Watching you and memorizing your face. It’s different through the HUD and he doesn’t like it as much as looking up at your face without the separation. The news that you loved him fills his heart with joy and sorrow, hating that he can’t have what he wants. After staring for a long minute, Din turns around and starts to finish closing up the panels on the star fighter to get it ready for take off.

You stand there, watching the star fighter engines start and you swallow as the tears start to stream down your cheeks, mourning the future you could’ve had with Din. You’re not sure why you watch the Mandalorian go but just as he lifts up from the ground, your eyes widen. “Grogu?” You gasp, seeing Din’s son pop up in the back seat and you glance back at the Mando, putting two and two together. “Wait! Wait!” You shout as the starfighter lifts higher. “Din! Stop!” You scream, begging him to hear you but the engines are too loud and he doesn’t look down at you. You’re helpless, unable to do anything except watch him disappear into the sky and off into the galaxy. 

“Goodbye Din Djarin.” You sob, sinking down to the ground to cry your heart out. You’ll never forget him, the man known to the rest of the galaxy as a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian, the Mand’alor. To you, he was simply Din Djarin.

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #mando x f!reader #mando x you #mando x reader #mando smut #mando fanfiction #mando fanfic #mando imagine #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian imagines #din dijarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfic

[stevesbestgirl]

It is so damn cute watching the other littlest look after the little baby reader.

Like the one with the football game. How little Peter looks after her. That was adorable!!! I couldn’t stop smiling.

I do like how they regress to a younger age.

Would love to see more little baby reader with more cute scenes with her daddies but also the other littles and caretakers.

Headphones put on her when it gets loud. Maybe at a gala and telling a loud douche to be quiet. (Badarse scary protective mom Nat).

Please please would you write more protective badarse stucky.

How would all the avengers especially stucky and maybe even the other littlest react if the baby reader was taken? After all the others are littles but still heroes while baby doesn’t have any powers (or does she) ;) 😂. Seriously though imagine the littles all finding out baby has been taken and then the door where the others are opens and the littles are no long littles but pissed off Loki. Scarlett witch , Spider-Man etc.

So sorry for writing so much. Just really love your fics. Can’t wait for any more you write. I hope you have a lovely day 🌸

Ohmygosh, this is so sweet, please don't apologize! I love hearing what people like about Their Girl 🥰🥰

I don't usually do requests, but your ideas are great and I got a little inspired ❤️

Safe

Daddy!Stucky x little!f!reader

2989 Words

Warnings: brief swearing, crybaby reader (as always), sfw age regression

In the early days, you never left the compound; your daddies were protective. They didn't want anything bad to happen to you- or for you to run into someone who might recognize you; that could be just as damaging to all the work they'd done to make you happy.

But eventually, as trust built, they started taking you out in public. First the zoo, like they'd promised, and then other places. Soon, you were allowed to tag along when they went grocery shopping and trips to the park become normal. You even had a special day at the mall with Steve.

You trusted all of the adults to keep you safe while out and about; you remembered one of Tony's fancy parties where a man had drank so much that he was shouting, despite the soft music and low hum of chatter in the room. Bucky had only agreed to bring you to that party because Tony promised it would be quiet. But the man was determined to be heard by the pretty girl he was talking to, though she didn't seem to want to talk to him.

You knew your daddies were close by, so you tried to be brave, politely tugging on his jacket and asking him to use his inside voice. But the girl saw her opportunity to leave, disappearing while his back was turned and then he got annoyed.

"Who brought a fuckin' kid to this party?" he called out to the room, making you shrivel beneath all the attention he was drawing. "Honestly, can't a guy even get laid-"

It wasn't Bucky, or even Steve, who marched over and put themselves between the two of you, it was Natasha. "You need to tone it down."

The man had smirked, giving her an obvious look up and down, "That's not the only thing that could stand to go down." He clearly thought himself quite smooth.

When she didn't fall down at his feet, he added, "Why? This yours?" He tipped his chin derisively at you, scorn plain in his tone. You winced; you didn't understand why he was being so mean, but you knew he was.

"She's not the problem here." You knew Natasha's warning voice well enough to recognize it, but this man was either too drunk, too stupid, or too distracted by her pretty face to notice.

"She's a problem for me." He reached in your direction, like he was going to push you away, drawing a resigned sigh from Nat.

Natasha caught his arm, twisting it to a funny angle and making the man cry out, "Then I guess I'm your problem too."

By then, Steve had noticed, steering you away and shielding you from the ruckus, but you peeked out just in time to see Nat take the man down, not even mussing her hair. Steve stayed close for the rest of the night, thinking you were traumatized, but you were really in awe of Natasha. Looking at your daddies, it was obvious they could protect you. But Natasha was much tougher than she looked and she hadn't hesitated to step in to keep you safe.

You had murmured a shy thank you to her later in the evening, to which she smiled, "Of course, dovey. We take care of our kids, don't we?" She'd kissed your forehead and you realized that you were part of their family; they would all take care of you, just like they did their own babies.

The adults had collectively decided that taking more than one baby out at a time warranted at least two caregivers. They weren't taking risks with such precious cargo after all.

Generally, things went smoothly. Surprisingly, Loki was the one who tended to get into trouble when out and about, but you were still very grateful to be allowed; you weren't about to rock the boat now. Not that good intentions would keep you out of trouble.

You hadn't meant to wander off in the store, but it wasn't like you went out often- you'd forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in the crowd. Especially with Thor and Tony as chaperones; Thor's supervision wasn't quite as comprehensive as many of the others and Tony tended to get distracted by Peter. It wasn't until you were shuffled away from the group, distracted by the pretty backpacks on display, that you realized they were gone.

Looking up from a sequined one you'd been admiring, you realized you were all alone. You'd always heard that you should stay put when you were lost, but that seemed kind of silly. After all, you knew you'd been with the group back by the clothing, so you shouldered the backpack you wanted and made your way back there.

But there was no sign of any of them. And now you were a little scared; when was the last time you were alone outside the compound? Just asking yourself the question unearthed the faint memory of your nightmares, which hadn't plagued you for quite a while now.

With a whimper, you climbed inside the clothing rack; it was stuffed full and provided excellent cover for someone who didn't want to get grabbed by a stranger. You camped out among the clothes for a few minutes- only long enough to realize that if someone had come back to look for you, they wouldn't know you were here. So you cautiously climbed out, keeping an eye out for any kidnappers.

You waited again, but what if they'd come to check for you while you were hiding? You might have missed them. Or what if they hadn't even noticed you were gone? What if they left without you?

You knew you shouldn't go out in the parking lot alone; you were supposed to hold someone's hand. You weren't even sure you remembered where the van was parked. But the little voice in your head insisted that if you weren't by the car when they came out, they would leave you behind.

Looking carefully both ways, you took a step into the lot, but you were quickly pulled back, an unfamiliar voice barking, "Where do you think you're going?"

Wheeling around, you were gazing at a grumpy-looking security guard whose badge read "Bennett." Locating your voice, however muted, you answered, "I got lost."

"Mm. And I take it you were going to pay for that bag too?" He didn't sound particularly accommodating.

"I don't have any money, but-"

"I thought so," he grunted. "Come with me."

Far be it from you to argue with a security guard; your daddies had told you to be wary of strangers, but there were no other grown ups around. So you tearfully followed Officer Bennett back inside and through a set of double doors. Behind those, everything was gray and dirty- it wasn't pretty like the rest of the store. But he kept walking, towing you firmly by the arm until you were in a tiny security office.

Entranced by the wall of TVs, you forgot you were in trouble until he snapped his fingers, "Sit down." You dropped into the chair against the wall.

He stood while you sat, hands planted on his hips, looking down his nose at you; he thought you were a thief. But nothing you said made a difference; he had an answer to everything, a way you could have been lying. He started asking for your information: your name, your birthday, where you lived. But you knew you weren't supposed to tell him those. So you told him that.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

His face twisted into a mocking sneer, "You've got to be kidding me."

Missing the sarcasm, you shook your head earnestly, "I promise I wasn't tryin' to steal-"

"I don't want to hear it. Unless you're going to tell me your name, I don't want to hear a peep out of you."

Intimidated by his bad attitude and his badge, you went quiet. You sat in the uncomfy, wooden chair, kicking your feet and watching the security cameras. You were compliantly quiet, at least until you saw a familiar face on one of the many screens. "Wanda!"

"That your name?"

"No, but-"

"Don't care then."

"But-"

"Shut up."

Surprised, you replied again, voice thick, "That's mean."

"Don't care." He turned back to his computer, making a pointed effort to ignore your sniffles and hiccups as they became more and more pronounced.

You debated about running away, but you weren't super like everyone else; you couldn't do anything. The small amount of relief granted by the knowledge that they hadn't left you behind- at least, not yet- didn't comfort you in the face of utter helplessness.

You tried to stay quiet while you cried, finding Wanda on the cameras again. You could at least keep an eye on her. Wanda looked right into the camera and you wanted to believe that she saw you, but you knew that wasn't how cameras worked. You watched her lean over and mutter something to Peter, who, in turn, whispered something in Loki's ear. You couldn't see Tony or Thor on the screen anywhere.

You did a quick scan of the other monitors for the grown ups and when you returned to Wanda's, she was gone and so were the others. You'd lost them.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat before speaking, "What's gonna happen to me?"

"Don't know."

"Am I goin' to jail?" Would Steve and Bucky be able to find you if you got arrested?

"Maybe." He sounded like he was entertaining the idea.

That prompted you to cry in earnest- you didn't want to go to jail. You could usually admit when you'd done something wrong, but everything that had happened today was an accident. You were a good girl.

Your internal monologue cut short at a knock on the door. With a heavy grunt, Officer Bennett heaved himself out of his chair and opened it, positioning himself between you and the other side, so you couldn't see past him. Whatever he saw on the other side gave him pause, then he slipped through the gap in the door and closed it behind him.

You were alone in the security office. And Officer Bennett had left his cell phone on the desk.

You scrambled over and were amazed that he didn't have a passcode on it. You remembered Steve complaining about how tedious it was to change that setting. Figuring it was an old man thing, you thanked your lucky stars and managed to open a text chat.

It had been a long time since you used a cell phone for anything other than games or taking pictures and even those typically had Steve or Bucky over your shoulder, telling you what to do. The last time you'd owned a cell phone, holo-screen tech didn't even exist.

You did, however, know your daddies' phone numbers by heart. They were now well versed in positive reinforcement. So you'd gotten a canopy for your bed in return for reeling off their phone numbers without any mistakes after weeks of practice and positive encouragement.

You dialed those numbers with shaky fingers, glancing over your shoulder to make sure the door was still closed. You weren't good at texting, though you dimly remembered being good at it once.

You typed out, "Help." "Scared." You wanted to type "officer," but you couldn't spell it, so you backpedaled, breaths coming faster as fear of being caught settled over your shoulders. You typed the name of the store instead and sent it, even though you knew you'd spelled it wrong.

And then you remembered to send your name as the doorknob rattled, so you only typed half and hit send before tossing the phone back down on the desk and getting back in your chair. You were barely seated when the door opened and an irritated-looking Officer Bennett shuffled back in, still carefully blocking your view. Once the door was closed, he clicked the lock.

He turned around to sit back down and noticed his phone- not even close to where he left it. Slowly turning his head to face you, he asked low, "Did you-"

You were trembling in your seat, but he cut off sharply, head turning to stare at the doorknob, which had started glowing with odd, red light. You were close enough that you could hear the faint clicking of metal on metal.

He looked at you, "What are you doing?" His face paled further as an eerie green glow seemed to seep in through the cracks around the door, "S-stop!"

He shrieked and you ducked your head as the door burst open and hit the wall with a crash. You suspected it had cracked the cement wall behind it.

Tentatively peeking out from under your hands, you squinted at the dust that had come loose at the impact floating through the air. Then Loki stumbled inside, closely followed by Peter and Wanda.

Loki ignored the terrified Officer Bennett, straightening indignantly, "Don't push."

Wanda rolled her eyes, "You were the one who had to be first." She smirked at him, "Feels good to save the day, doesn't it?"

"Why don't you-"

"Guys?" You finally found your voice, though it was still thin and trembling.

"We came to save you," Peter piped up.

"By the gods, what you have you three done?" Thor's voice echoed over Wanda's shoulder, just out of your sight.

Then Tony's voice, "It's bad enough I have to pay these insurance premiums when there's a crisis, now I can't even do my shopping without something getting broken?" You couldn't tell if he was serious or joking.

Tony ushered the others out, extending an arm to you, still in your seat, "C'mon kid, let me sort this out." You hesitantly stood, waiting for the guard to stop you, but it seemed like Officer Bennett was in shock because only Tony spoke, "That's it, come on. Let's get you out of there."

He steered you out of the office and back into the main store with Thor, who hoisted you off the ground and onto his hip, "Trouble always seems to find you, doesn't it, little one?"

You stared at him, suddenly nervous, "Am I in trouble?"

"No, you aren't in trouble. Don't worry, the grown ups are handling it."

Ten minutes later, you were all back in the car. Your backpack had been paid for and was in the trunk with the other bags. Your carseat was in the back row, as Peter's occupied the middle. Loki was in the backseat with you and Wanda in the middle with Peter.

You kept your voice low, hoping Tony and Thor wouldn't hear over the classic rock playing on the radio, "Thanks for saving me." You left a pause before admitting, "I was really scared."

Wanda surprised you by rolling her eyes, "Of course we would never let anyone take you away. You're our friend."

"We love you, pretty girl," Peter added, the only one who was very free with that particular word.

You glanced at Loki, who looked almost guilty, giving you a reluctant nod, his cheeks flushed silver.

You smiled and nodded, settling back into your seat and contemplating a nap. But Tony pulled off the highway early, stopping at a little diner. You were allowed to unbuckle yourself, so you climbed out of the van with the others, staying close by while Tony got Peter out too.

"Uncle Tony, are we having dinner?" Wanda chirped.

"I was thinking about it, but if you guys aren't hungry-"

Wanda took the bait, "I am! But what about Mommy?"

"You can bring something back for her, sound fair?"

You tugged on Tony's sleeve, "Me too?"

"You want to bring something back to Natasha?"

"Uh-uh, for my daddies."

"No need, squirt." He pointed behind you and you saw Steve and Bucky coming up the sidewalk from Steve's car parked a few spaces down.

"Papa!" You took care to get on the sidewalk before running over to them and jumping into Steve; you weren’t taking any chances on getting in trouble for running in a parking lot. But you hadn't realized how badly you needed to see them after something like that until they were there to make it better. You were safe with your friends, but things were better with your daddies around.

Steve held you like he'd had a scary afternoon too, pressing a frantic kiss to your forehead and holding your head tightly into the crook of his neck while he hugged you, "My sweet girl, are you alright?"

You nodded, "It was scary, but Wanda and Peter and Loki saved me."

Steve buried another kiss in your cheek, "Lucky for that security guard they did, or he would've had to deal with me-"

"Steve, it's done. Tony handled it," Bucky reminded him.

Steve grunted his understanding, a sure sign he disagreed but couldn't be bothered to argue; he had his baby back now.

Bucky leaned in to kiss your forehead too, "Let's get you something to eat, hm? Being a felon is hungry work- I'd know."

Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky grinned. Peter chimed in, reminding the three of you that everyone else was waiting, "We can get lots of food, my daddy is paying."

Thor cheered, which prompted Wanda and Peter to copy him, drawing a laugh from Steve.

"You know Pete, I'm starting to think you're only here for my money."

Peter's indignant reply was the beginning of another tangent, leading to more teasing and more laughter. And as you sat in a too-small booth, sitting on Steve's lap and blowing straw wrappers at Wanda and Loki, you realized that your bad day, as with all the bad days that had come before it, wasn't worth remembering because you were the happiest you could ever remember being.

#daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #little!reader #soft!daddy!stucky #soft!dark!daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky fluff #agere #sfw agere

[nerves-nebula]

Uh. Thought I'd try my hand at writing fics for you because I had this idea in class where the "good" and "bad" timeline Leos meet. It gets a little uhhhhhh intense. Hope you like it.

The Leonardo who let them go huffed furiously, keeping a white-knuckle grip on his beaten-up katanas. He'd been chasing her for a while now, claiming she was an "imposter" sent by some mystic foe.

The Leonardo who broke his brother's arm fought the urge to collapse. She smoothed back the skin of her skull with an aggravated groan. "Look, I'm just trying to get back home- alright? One of Don's expirements went wrong and-"

"Keep that traitor's name out of your fucking mouth," the other growled, raising a sword to point at him, "And stop acting like you're me."

She dragged a hand down her face. "Can you stop it with this whole 'macho hero man' shtick, already?" Was he really this annoying as a kid? No wonder her brothers hated him, "Yes, I am you- though, from the looks of it, this is the 'everything goes to shit' timeline. Like that one episode of Space Heroes where Captain Grant becomes a villain."

Then the feral idiot was running at him again. He groaned and dodged, as he'd come to do around this horrific version of herself. It seemed that in the other version's time with Splinter, he'd only managed to get sloppier as pent-up emotions took control over years of training and abuse. The one who broke her brother's arm, however, had been an unofficial defender of the Hidden City for quite the fucking while.

With a quick twist to the angry one's wrist and a knee into his plastron, he took one of his attacker's swords and sent her other self collapsing onto the ground.

She slowly pointed the stolen sword to his head. "Look, I just need you to tell me where Donnie is. Maybe he can send me home so I can never see your stupid, fugly face ever again."

The other Leonardo simply started to laugh. It didn't seem too insincere, if he was reading it right. Like he was laughing at a stupid pun or something.

Finally, Leonardo gave into the temptation that crawled into the corners of his mind and slammed a foot down on her counterpart's chest, knocking the wind out of him. "What is so fucking funny, here?" He growled.

"Whoever made you did a really bad job," The other slider purred in response, "I haven't seen that fucking coward in years. Besides, look at you-" He made a vague gesture toward her, "-As if I'd ever be such a fucking sissy to tie up my mask in a bow. What? Did your 'brothers' infect you? Did their fruitiness rub off on you after living with you for so long?" He cackled, "Guess I was always right about little Don and Raphie being fucking pansies after all!"

Something rose up inside him. A blaze of anger scorching through her brain. Digging up old feelings and arguments and- "Does Splinter still like the noises you make?"

The one who let them go went still at that, eyes wide and somewhat panicked. Deep down, she knew it would be wrong to keep pressing with this for her own sick self-indulgence.

"Do you still like it when he pulls your tail?" He needed to stop. This was wrong. Why was she doing this anyway?

The terrified look on his face was intoxicating. He was being put in his fucking place.

"Does it hurt your feewings that they left you alone with him?" He cooed, "Do you still think that daddy is the only one who'll ever understand you?"

"Shut up," The other hissed, panic evident in his voice, "You don't know what the hell you're even talking about."

"I know you had a box of dresses from April hidden under your bed when you were fifteen," She said with an evil grin, "I know that he beat the shit out of you when he found out. No trannies allowed here, no sirree."

"Stop it."

"I know he raped you in one of them. Told you if you wanted to be a girl so bad, he'd fucking treat you like one."

"Stop it."

"I know you couldn't leave him if you tried. No, you're too good a daddy's boy. It's not like anyone would take you in, anyway. We both know that there's no fucking hope for some shithead lowlife who can only take-"

"I SAID, STOP IT!!" He screeched, interrupting his rant.

The one who broke his brother's arm briefly came to her senses. There was something wet on her face, making his mask cling to her cheek uncomfortably. He looked down to his other self. The slider was crying, digging his palms around the rusted edge of his own sword in an attempt to push her back. He'd been so lost in it she'd barely noticed the resistance.

"You- You don't-" the abused man fumbled, "You don't know me! You're- You're just some stupid, defective clone making shit up to get a rise outta me!"

Leonardo took her foot off the other's chest and took a small step back. The spider's hands slid off the blade with a sharp shing. Clumps of blood and torn skin dripped onto his stomach. Too much blood. Too much blood too much blood too much

"Where does your Donnie live? Or... or do you at least know where he works?" He asked. It came out much quieter than he meant to, but he feared if he raised his voice it would crack.

"Big Mama," He breathed, "He works for Big Mama."

She gave a small nod and softly set down his counterpart's sword. The other Leonardo regarded him with great suspicion and lingering fear. "If- If I hear anything about him dying, I- I'll kill you."

Wouldn't be the first time she tried to kill herself.

She took a few steps toward the ledge and stayed there for a moment. He readjusted his things and sighed.

"It's easier for them to want to help you when you try to be nice," He gulped, "But uh... Don't treat them like Father. They get weirded out by that."

There was a clank and a shuffle from behind. He was going to try and attack him again, wasn't he?

"And uh... if you meet a rabbit guy that looks weirdly like the samurai from that old Usagi show," The noises behind him stopped for a moment, "Maybe don't bring up the toy."

wanted to make u some art about how much i liked this <<33 its 1 AM i am. so tired. anyway i really liked the line "do you still like it when he pulls your tail" its so fucked up. she honestly coulda stopped there, woulda had him foaming like a rabid dog.

#nnstuff #nnart #neglected art #teenage mutant neglected turtles #tmnt leo #leos no good timeline #sa tw #incest tw #csa tw #rape tw #misogyny tw #transphobia tw #violence tw #abuse tw #this one really went hard on the tw's huh #neglected fic #tmnt comic