#my dad keeps asking me to pray and like. I have. but I have trouble telling him that I don't think whatever is out there if anything cares

[lokischocolatefountain]

Warning || Men Like Me

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.

Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 

Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 

Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.

Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 

That was where his troubles began. 

There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.

He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 

He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.

He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.

“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 

His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 

“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 

“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 

It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.

“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.

His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 

Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 

“Depends. Do you like it?” 

“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 

“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.

You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 

“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 

“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 

“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”

“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 

“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.

“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.

“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 

He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.

“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 

“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 

He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 

“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.

“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”

Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.

Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.

It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 

He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 

Fucking disgusting. 

He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 

He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 

He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 

After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.

The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.

When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 

Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?

It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.

You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 

Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 

It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.

Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 

You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 

So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 

“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”

He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 

“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.

Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 

He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 

You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”

“Old. Fifty six.” 

“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 

“I’m not a doctor yet.” 

“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”

“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.

“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”

“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.

“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 

You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 

“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.

“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 

“Like me.” 

“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 

“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 

“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.

“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.

“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 

“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”

“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.

“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 

“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 

“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 

“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 

“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 

⌘⌘⌘

It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 

You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.

So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 

You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.

She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 

Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 

You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 

You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 

He should leave. 

It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 

He should leave. 

Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 

But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 

His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 

Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.

Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 

No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 

Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 

He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 

“J-Joel?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  

Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 

“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 

“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 

“Touch me!” 

It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 

You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.

“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 

You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.

He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 

“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 

“Any man?” 

“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 

He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.

A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 

You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 

“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 

You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 

“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 

“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 

He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.

You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 

Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 

You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 

He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 

“Be a good girl from now.” 

That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.

⌘

Part 2

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller age gap #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #all that i've inflicted on the world

[norrisleclercf1]

I hear you wanted a dad blurb

Pleaseeeee can you do smt with Elijah x Lorenzo getting into trouble together

A/N: Lorenzo and Elijah together is very dangerous

"This is so stupid, and when we get caught Uncle Lando and Uncle Charles are going to kill us." Lorenzo whispers, Elijah waving him off as they sneak through the paddock, late at night.

"Dude, don't you want to get it? If we don't, we lose Truth or Dare. And I refuse to lose to Charlotte Verstappen." Elijah growls and Lorenzo rolls his eyes. Grabbing the back of Elijah's shirt and pulling him back as the guard walks past them. "How about you pay attention, so we don't get caught. Papi would kill me if we got caught doing this." Lorenzo groans as they sneak towards the Red Bull garage.

"Listen, Uncle Max retired when we were 17. Why the hell do they carry that around?" Elijah whispers as they stop looking around and go in through the back door. "I don't know, all I know is Red Bull asked to keep Max's first WDC. Now, let's get in there, grab it and return before we get caught." Lorenzo opens the door.

Both boys flinch hearing the door creak as they head to the office and pray that the door isn't locked. "Who the hell leaves the office door locked?" Elijah grumbles but stops remembering his Papa was the last out of the office.

"Seriously?" "Listen, just shut up." Lorenzo rolls his eyes as they stand up and stare at the trophy behind the desk. "Woah," Both boys stare at awe of the WDC trophy. "Do you think I could ever be as great as my dad's?" Elijah asks, at 19 he wanted nothing more than to have the career that Lando and Charles have.

"Okay, now is not the time to get mushy, Eli. Grab the fucking trophy." Lorenzo smacks the younger head who grumbles and picks it up. "Damn, it's heavy, how'd Uncle Max lift this thing up?" "It was quite easy when you're filled with adrenaline." A voice says behind them.

"Lo?" "Yeah, Eli?" "There's not a chance, that Uncle Max is behind us, is there?" Lorenzo turns slightly and see the broad build of Uncle Max. "Eli?" "Yeah, Lo?" "It's Uncle Max." They turn around quick and stare as Max stares at them with a smirk.

"You honestly thought my little girl wouldn't have told me what you two were doing?" Elijah opens his mouth but closes it seeing his Dad behind him glaring. "Hey, Dad." "Hey Uncle Lando." Lorenzo waves, but stops seeing the seriously pissed off look.

-------------------

"I can not, believe you two? Stealing Max's original, first WDC. Do you have any idea how disrespectful and wrong that is?" Carlos snaps, and Lorenzo curls in on himself. "Uncle Carlos, please it was just a stupid game." Elijah explains but Charles cuts him a sharp look.

"I told them it was a bad idea Daddy." Charlotte smiles, and Elijah seriously thought about drowning her in this moment. "Oh fuck off Charlotte, you're the one who dared us anyways!' Lorenzo snaps, and Charlotte scuffs. "Why would I do that? I'm not deliquents like you." "That's it!" Elijah lunges but Lorenzo pulls him back as Charlotte sticks out her tongue.

"Hey! Enough!" Lando snaps and the kids fall quiet. It was an unwritten rule to never piss off Lando. He was the soft one, but if you got him mad enough, you'd never see light again. "Dad?" Everyone turns seeing the youngest Verstappen. "Ivan? What is it?" Max asks, pulling his son in.

"Charlotte totally dared the guys to go and steal your trophy. She knew that you'd and Uncle Lando would be stopping by because Uncle Charles always leaves his extra rings on the desk. So she set the whole thing up to get them trouble since they beat her at last weeks truth or dare." Ivan explains and Lorenzo has never been happier that he gives that kid a ride in their cars all the time.

"Really now?" Max turns and Charlotte shrinks in on herself. "Boys?" Carlos asks and they look up at him, as he nods his head to the door. "Get out of here. And don't think about touching that WDC until you've won it. Got it?" "Yes Sir!"

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #lando norris imagine #max verstappen imagine #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #our boy series #lorenzo and carlos

[hugheswritetr]

D-Day

MASTERLIST

Heartbeat | Jack Hughes

Author’s note: the longest chapters so far, hope you enjoy it;)

Song: Daylight- Taylor Swift

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The bathroom counter in my room is overflowing with make-up. As always, I decided to lay a little bit longer than necessary in bed as I should, and this is the result of it. I cannot even navigate through the stuff, making my frustration rise more.

My palms are sweaty, my arms are aching and the goddamn eyeliner is getting crooked more and more each time I try to fix it. This is not my day. I am hoping that it at least looks presentable, the last thing I want is to look horrendous on national television.

Don’t even get me started on my outfit, the new bought heels I put on to stretch already digging into my feet. Sure, the heels are Jimmy Choo’s ( I would never buy anything else ), but even the price tag can’t fix the already forming blister.

,,Thalia! Stop hogging the bathroom!” my brother screams from outside, banging on the door for the millionth time.

Did I mention it was the day of the draft?

The day Mattheo had been working towards his entire life, the past week of his life incredibly stressful, the combine and interviews going with being the fourth projected pick.

We had flown to Dallas two days later than him, residing in the Mariott hotel in downtown Dallas. The whole family is here for this once in a lifetime event. Whole family but one person.

I can see that it’s troubling him, dad was one of his biggest supporters, paying for various trainers and private ice time with them. Despite all that, he is not here. I am sad for him, remembering the special father and son bond between them.

,,Give me a second” I shout back at him, even though knowing that the second would be a lot longer. How much more can my arms ache?

,,Thalia!” my brothers annoyed tone making me screw up more ,,Come on!”

,,Oh my god Theo stop! You’re making me nervous!” I report back in annoyed sneer. “You?!Nervous ?!” I don’t know how he manages to be louder each time. “Are you forgetting it’s my draft day?!”

,,Oh my god! Fine!” I reply, trying to swiftly gather my things into my make-up bag. Luke’s bathroom will have to do. I open the door, revealing my annoyed brother standing there.

,,Finally” he says as he enters the bathroom. “Asshat,, I retort my last comment before leaving the room.

The trip down the hallway is short, five steps and I am already knocking on his door.

But the boy opening the door is not the brother I am expecting . ,,Thalia?” Jack is raising his eyebrow at me making me squirm under his gaze. ,,Um, Could I finish getting ready in your room? Mattheo needs to get ready and he can’t when I’m in the bathroom” the blush to my cheeks rising as I ask the question.

,,Sure, but Luke is not here” the newfound information making me almost wish I hadn’t come here. I enter the room and swiftly aim for the bathroom, hoping to get away from the awkward silence that fell between me and the boy who stole my heart and doesn’t even know it.

What I didn’t expect is him following me and sitting on the bathtub beside me. “So, what are we doing?” he asks, catching me off guard. “We?,, I nervously laugh. “Sure, Lils, I’m not going to sit there when I can keep you company,, he nonchalantly replies.

I pray he doesn’t see the effect he has on me and that the foundation tint is covering my red cheeks. If it hadn’t been for my mind replaying the sentence over and over again, I wouldn’t even notice the name he said.

“You know my name is Thalia, right?” I ask and he laughs like it is the greatest joke he heard for a while. “You think I’m dumb? Lils is my new nickname for you, you have lillies on your dress” he voices the detail of my dress.

,,Oh” it was as I forgotten all of the english vocabulary and the only response I can muster is this.

,,Let me help you, sit” he says, noticing me still not drawing the eyeliner right. “Jack, please, like you know how to do it” I reply, rolling my eyes. “And you do?,, he jokingly answers.

He puts his hand around my biceps and sits me down on the bathtub, standing up and taking the make-up tool from my hand.

I gaze up to him, admiring the focused look in his eyes, but most importantly admiring him. The small freckles covering the bridge of his nose, the pink hue on his cheeks from spending time in the sun. The lines of focus between his eyebrows reminding me that he is human, and not some carefully carved sculpture. Jack Hughes is perfection.

,,Here, done” he finishes drawing the eyeliner. I stand up, expecting the disaster on my eyes, but when I gaze into the mirror, the eyeliner is drew on, good? It honestly makes me surprised.

I voice my thoughts with surprised laugh ,,Where did you learn this?”. Jack looks at me “I often watch my girlfriend do make-up, I’m kind of a pro right now” the world girlfriend silencing my next words. I just stand there gaping at him, the awkward silence sweeping over the room. The sentence is a dig to my heart, reminding me that I can admire him all I want, but I can never have him.

I think that my guardian angels decided to help me, and thank god they did, because Luke enters the room.

,,Come on Jack, we have to go - Thalia?” he asks surprised. “Oh Hi Luke, I was just here to finish my make-up, Mattheo occupied the bathroom” I answer his confusion.

Quickly cleaning up the stuff, I gather it to my hands leaving the room ,,I should go see if mom and Theo are ready, see you” I leave without waiting for the answer.

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I am in a state of awe for the last 5 minutes, and the cause for a first time in a while is not Jack. As I am sitting in my seat, the NHL level stadium makes the situation feel ten times more real than back in the hotel, signalling the significance of the event.

Our seats are in the higher part of the arena, right before the Hughes family. Luke is shaking his leg notoriously, he seems even more nervous than Quinn and Theo, the actual people being drafted.

There is a limit on the amount my nerves can handle, and before I know , I am complaining to him ,,Luke! I swear to god, if you’re going to shake that leg one more time, I’m going to slice it” I say to him, making him widen his eyes. “Geez Thalia, never took you as the psycho type” Jack inserts himself into the conversation. Once again, reminding me of his unforgettable presence in my life.

My mother knowingly smiles at me, knowing the real reason for my snapping. I feel sad for Mattheo, one of the most important events of his life is here, and dad is missing. I can see it’s troubling him, so I put my hand around his leg.

,, He is looking, you know it right?” I say to him, trying to calm him. He offers me a bittersweet smile in response ,,I know”.

The ceremony soon begins, anticipation filling my entire body. The reports saying Mattheo is going to be one of the first first rounders - making it known that the fate of his draft is going to be revealed soon.

First pick belonged to Buffalo Sabres, and the smile on the lucky hockey protégé picked for them making me excited for Theo’s moment.

I am thinking, not even noticing that the next team is picking. Selfishly, I hope that he would be going to the Detroit Red Wings to be close, but I know he is going to be picked sooner.

Then the Montreál Canadiens appear on stage. Making the usual speech.

The second Mattheo's name is called by the Montreal Canadiens, we jump from our seats and scream in joy. First mom hugs him, her eyes are shining with tears making my own spill in reponse. I hug him too, being the proudest sister there is on planet earth in this moment, my heart soaring with happiness. He made it, and I couldn’t be more proud. He leaps a few steps up to the Hughes family to hug Quinn, his now former teammate. And then the journey to his new team begins.

My heart skips a beat as I watch him make his way to the stage, a mix of emotions swirling within me. Pride, excitement, and pure happiness radiating off him and in return, off me.

After the moment ends, we sit back down. I can basically feel the anxiety radiating from Quinn by not being picked yet. All I can do is plead with god and my dad to bring the moment sooner.

It is as they hear my prayers, because as soon as the Vancouver Canucks call the name of their next new player, my ears reach the sound of a name of the boy I had grown to care about so much over the span of past three and a half years. I jump from my seat for a second time, expierencing the happiness once again.

The proud feeling coursing through my body from both of the boys successful drafts is beautiful. Me and Luke hug, feeling proud of our eldest brothers and wanting to share the moment together. The two bestfriends made it onto the international stage, an accomplishment we will be celebrating for a long time.

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The draft had been a rollercoaster of emotions, but seeing Quinn and Mattheo's dreams come true was an incredible moment.

We meet with them after the draft, the smile is permanently etched on their faces for the rest of the evening, making the whole group feel good.

The only thing that doesn’t feel good are my feet. Who suggested these painful heels? I know the answer, making me frustrated at myself. My ,,silent” huffing is unnoticed, until I see the middle Hughes boy stopping and waiting for me.

,,Come on, jump” He says, catching me off guard. “What?,, I reply, the confusing train of thoughts surging through me until he crouches . ,,Jump” he says, waiting for me to jump on him.

My proud mind is screaming at me not to, wanting to prove my mother I can wear heels for the whole evening even if she insisted I couldn’t.

But as I try to take another step, the pain spreading through my feet is too much for me to bear, making me jump on him.

Despite being dark, I can see daylight. Personified in the presence of him.

I don’t even notice the knowing look on the elder women faces as they watch us. As if secretly knowing what the future holds for us. We will soon find out.

#jack hughes #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nj devils #jack hughes blurb

[midnightstar-90]

Little Star

Evan 'Buck' Buckley x AFAB! Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | 9-1-1 Masterlist

Requested by @icemansgirl1999: I would like to see a story of brand new dad buck or Eddie and reader (mom) had some complications after the birth and you can run with it how ever you Deem

Summary: Reader has trouble bonding with her and Buck's child.

Warnings: Mention of Breastfeeding, Language, Slight Slut Shaming, Small Season 5 Spoiler, Angst, Baby Fluff, Dad! Buck

A/N: Guys I do not have a child (I do have 4 siblings, and I am the oldest), and I have never had any children. I tried to steer clear of things that might be wrong, and I did do some research, but I mostly just tried to stay in the emotional range of things. So, if I said something wrong you could tell me, if you want (because I would love to know for next time) but please don’t get mad. I really tried my best.

P.S. If you see the name Harley, it was the original name for the couple’s child, but I thought Lana would work best. So…

Buck and Y/N were so happy when they learned Y/N was pregnant. The thoughts of their little "mini-me" ambushed their minds and became the focus of the last 9 months. They did everything a new parent would do before bringing their child into the world. They experimented with names, constantly argued over what the gender was, get excited over every photo of the ultrasound, and they even hosted a baby shower, inviting everyone they loved.

But it seemed that they were so caught up in all the fun stuff about being a parent that they didn't focus on the hardships of being a parent. Lana Buckley was born naturally at about a foot and a half tall and 8 lbs big. She was born perfectly healthy, and everything had seemed fine until Buck had to go back to work.

When Buck went back to work, it seemed like the child Y/N had birthed was a completely different person. Lana refused to eat, sleep, and she cried all day and night. But as soon as Buck got her in her arms, she was the sweet and calm baby the two knew.

This brought major discomfort to Y/N. She couldn't get near her child without her screaming. It made her ask herself, "Is it me?" When Buck would come home, Lana would fall asleep peacefully in his arms, and Y/N watched in despair.

One day, Buck had gone back to work. When Y/N woke up without her boyfriend in the bed next to her, she started her day. She cleaned the house and made breakfast before Lana's cries echoed through the apartment. Y/N walked back upstairs and grabbed her child before bringing her downstairs to make her a bottle. Y/N gently placed the bottle in Lana's mouth, hoping for the infant to gulp it down like she did for Buck, but it only made the baby cry louder.

"What? You don't want the bottle?" Y/N asked her daughter. When the child didn't respond, Y/N looked down at her chest and took a deep breath.

After getting Lana to eat, Lana didn't cry as much, but she still cried. Sure, if she was hungry or needed her diaper changed, she cried, but if Y/N placed her down to go pee, she would cry. If Y/N didn't give her enough attention because she was watching tv or random videos on her phone, she would cry. And worst of all was when she cried for no reason. It seemed like everything she did, made Lana cry.

Y/N had finally gotten Lana asleep after 3 hours of nonstop crying. She carefully bent down and placed the tiny infant into her crib, trying her best not to wake her. When she stood back up, she stretched her upper body with a soft groan and made her way to her bed where she softly plopped down and released an exhausted groan. She quietly prayed for Buck to come home soon since it seemed that he was the "Lana expert". But it seemed that her prayer wasn't answered as Lana began to cry again, and no one was home to put the infant back to sleep, except for her.

Y/N felt herself tear up as she lay face up in her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the wails of her daughter. Her failure to keep her daughter quiet made her begin to doubt herself as a mother. It was sad to think that after 9 months of excitement, she was now questioning her readiness to be a mother. That and her pounding headache from the noise and slight sleep deprivation brought the girl into a slight depression.

Y/N's thoughts were soon cut off by a loud knock from the front door. Lana had yet to stop crying, which made getting up to answer the door much harder. With a groan, Y/N sat up in her shared bed and rubbed the tiredness from her eyes. She shuffled her feet, across the wooden floors, over to Lana’s crib and picked up the infant.

A sharp pain spread through her body as she held the infant in her arms. She hadn’t completely recovered from giving birth, seeing as it hadn't even been a month yet, and because of Harley, she hadn’t had time to relax, leading to headaches and random bursts of pain in her back, legs, and arms. She was tired, to say the least, and found herself ready to kill to get some shut-eye.

Another knock erupted from the door. “Okay, I’m coming!” Y/N yelled over the screams of her child. With a tired sigh, she went down the steps and over to the door. Lana still cried in her arms, so Y/N began patting her back softly as she whispered calming noises into her ear. It helped the situation a little bit, by calming down the cries, but it didn't stop them. She opened the door to find none other than her mother waiting at the door with her dark-shaded sunglasses.

Y/N hadn't talked to her mother since she announced her pregnancy. Y/N grew up wealthy due to her father's family's long history of wealth. And her mom... Let's just say that the money was the reason she stayed. So, when her mother discovered that her daughter was to inherit her father's small fortune, her mother suddenly began to care for her well-being.

Her mother chased every man in Y/N's life away due to her obnoxious judging and rude comments. Y/M/N would claim that they were only with her for the money. So, when she announced her pregnancy, you know her mother wasn't happy.

But unlike her mother, Y/N didn't care about money. She loved Evan and didn't need his money to feel that way. And when her mother began harassing Buck, she knew it was time for her to go. So, Y/N cut her mother off, and much like the cockroach that she is, she was back. Probably broke up with her wealthy boyfriend and is in need of cash.

“Mom?” Y/N asked, surprised as she bounced a screaming Lana in her arms.

Her mother snatched off her shades and said, “Yes, it is me. After you rudely blocked me from your life, I became concerned. So, here I am to check up on you.” Y/N rolled her eyes at all the bull shit from her mother’s mouth. “I would have been here sooner if I knew my precious grand-baby was here already.” Y/N scoffed as her mother pushed past her and entered their apartment.

She walked over to the kitchen island, showing off a small gift bag that hung on her arm. "I brought gifts," Y/M/N said, placing the gift bag on the marble surface.

'Gifts?' Y/N asked herself. "Hmm, maybe she doesn't need money."

“Well, mom, to be honest, I didn’t think I could take 9 months of your kind words... I’m still not ready for them. And before you come in here, flaunting your unearned money, I think you owe Evan an apology.” I said, closing the door and walking into the kitchen.

“I don’t know what you mean. If this is about the last time, I was just trying to help,” she defensively said.

Y/N rolled my eyes and glared at her mother. “I don’t think that saying that Buck would be a terrible father and then telling me to tell him the baby wasn't his was very helpful,” She retorted.

“He wasn’t prepared to be a father, and he still isn't. He's a childish buffoon, and now it seems like he’s a deadbeat.”

“Buck is not a deadbeat. You know nothing about it,” Y/N spoke, defending Buck to her mother.

“Look around, Y/N. You are holding a newborn baby who hasn't stopped crying since you open the door. I mean, come on, sweetheart. You look terrible. Have you been getting any sleep? And where is Evan?” She asked, raising her eyebrow as she gave her daughter a stern look. Y/N scoffed at her mother's words.

“Buck is a good- no- a great father who works 24-hour shifts. He’s a firefighter, ma,” Y/N said, putting emphasis on the "great" part. She began to become frustrated with her mother as her judgmental side began to express itself.

“Now, why is that man working when he has a newborn baby and a sleep-deprived girlfriend at home?”

“Because unlike you, mother, we have bills. And there is no rich second party to pay for those bills,” Y/N said.

My mother’s eyes followed me as she said, “You have your father's money. Does Buck even know about your trust fund?"

"Yes, mom," Y/N said with an aggravated sigh. "He knows, and we both agreed that we're going to use that money to better Harley's life. But we're not going to quit our jobs for it. Buck is better than that. He's not you," She finished.

"Is that any way to talk to a guest- better yet- your mother?" Y/M/N asked, offended at her daughter's words.

Y/N's brain was trying to process all of her emotions, but it all overloaded her brain. Between the constant crying from Harley and the nagging from her mother, Y/N was fed up. "Hmm, let me think..." She began to act like she was thinking before answering her mother, "You're more like an unwanted guest. A party crasher. No one asked for you to be here, and I would love it if you left."

"What is the matter with you?" Y/M/N asked, now confused by her daughter's random outburst.

“My issue? You want to know what is wrong with me, mother? You’re what’s wrong with me. You treat me like shit, yet you have the nerve to put your two cents into my life. You’ve never cared about me. You only began to care when dad died and left me his fortune. In my opinion, you’re a gold-digging, 2-timing slut who can’t stand to see anyone but herself happy.” Y/N snapped, and suddenly, everything went quiet. No nagging from her mother. No screaming from her daughter. Y/N’s breath turned heavy as she let out all the pent-up tiredness and anger she had been feeling this last week, and the tears running down her face made her feel as if she was drowning in a pool of her own misfortune.

“I just wanted what’s best for you,” her mother said, releasing a tear to roll down her face. The way her mother spoke as if she cared made Y/N feel like her mother was blind to how her actions made her daughter feel. What her words did to her. Her life was like a broken record when she was around her mother, and she couldn't have that for her daughter. She never wanted Lana to feel the way she did, growing up.

“I think you should go,” Y/N whispered, laying Lana’s head down on her shoulder. Y/N's mother just stood there, wide-eyed with her mouth hung open.

The sound of keys entering the keyhole lock sounded in the kitchen as the door opened, revealing Evan. He walked in, confused, seeing his girlfriend upset with Lana in my arms, crying, and Y/N's mother standing across from her, shocked. “What’s going on?” Buck said, dropping his ‘LAFD’ duffel bag on the ground next to the door.

Y/M/N angrily grabbed her purse before giving her daughter one last look. “Nothing. I was just leaving,” she said, storming out of the apartment and slamming the door on her way out.

Buck looked at his girlfriend, and he pointed at the closed door. Y/N rolled her eyes and waved her mother's actions off as she began to make Lana a bottle. Buck came up behind her and kissed both Y/N's and Lana's foreheads. He then held Y/N as he slowly swayed the girls in his arms.

“Hey,” Buck said, turning her head to face him. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Whatever she told you is not true,” he said, pulling me into his chest.

“I don’t think I’m fit to be a mother,” Y/N mumbled into Buck’s shirt.

Buck's face scrunched up in confusion as he simply moved the girl away from his chest. With a finger, he moved her head up to face him. Buck scoffed and shook his head as he softly whispered, “Babe, what are you talking about? You’re an amazing mother.”

Y/N shook my head ‘no.' She didn't believe Buck's words. How could she? She only felt that way because of how Lana acted when he wasn't around. He wouldn't have any idea of what she was going through.

"Of course you are. You just need to sleep. Your hormones are regulating, and I know I haven't been home, but I'm here now. Let me take some things off your hands," Buck said, taking Lana out of Y/N's arms and into his. "Go take a nap, okay? I got this," Buck said, motioning to the upstairs area with his free hand.

Y/N knew that a nap wouldn't change how she felt about the situation, but she was tired from all the crying, so she did as Buck instructed and made her way upstairs.

Buck heard every sad sigh and sniffle from the girl as she walked up the steps. It hurt him to see how much pain Y/N was going through. He had seen how she was with Danny, Chris, and Jee. And that's how Buck knew she was a fantastic caregiver. He just needed to find some way to show her that she was still a good caregiver, but he didn't know how.

While Y/N got the rest she needed, Buck was downstairs taking care of Lana. He picked up the bottle that Y/N had made earlier, and he carefully placed it into Harley's mouth. Lana began to suck on the bottle. Buck chuckled as he watched the infant chug down the milk. "Yeah, you like that, huh?" He asked. And within 30 seconds, she was already a fourth done.

"Someone was hungry," Buck said as Lana began to slow down. Buck moved away from the kitchen and made his way into the living room with Lana still in his arms, sucking on her bottle. He looked down at his daughter, who stared up at him with her beautiful Y/E/C eyes as her small arms clutched the bottle. Buck couldn't help but see Y/N whenever he looked at his child.

He smiled as he studied the child's face. He began to notice that the baby had Y/N's smile and her nose that Buck loved to boop when they played around. His smile brightened as he noticed the mixture between his and Y/N's eyes. Lana had Buck's eye shape, but she carried the color that made Buck lose himself when he looked into Y/N's.

Like always, whenever Lana finished her bottle, she struggled to keep her eyes open. Buck removed the bottle, and her mouth opened wide as she let out a yawn. "Huh, I guess mommy wasn't the only one that's sleepy," Buck said before moving himself off the couch.

He made his way upstairs, with Lana on the brink of falling asleep. He walked over to Lana's crib before turning to look at his girlfriend. He looked at her with a sad smile before turning back to place a now sleep Lana into her crib.

"There you go," Buck whispered to the sleeping child. "Was that so bad? Why can't you do this for mommy?" He asked, earning no response, only the sound of soft snores. "You know your mommy loves you. She's just having a hard time. This is new for all of us. She's just taking it harder than everyone else."

Buck looked down at his daughter with a frown. He let out a sad sigh before making his way to the shower. But before anything, he made his way to his bed, leaning over, and placing a kiss on Y/N's temple.

The 118 sat back and relaxed while waiting for Bobby's special dinner. Bobby had put together a little celebratory dinner for the newest edition in the Buckley family, to which Chimney responded with, "Where was my celebratory dinner, Cap?" Everyone laughed at Chimney, thinking he was joking, but he was still a little hurt by it.

"No one thought that Buck would ever make it this far into a relationship," Hen joked, earning an eye roll from Buck.

While Bobby cooked, Eddie, Chimney, Hen, and Buck all sat together on the upper-level couches. They sat back and relaxed as the four of them joked around with each other and shared about their time away from work like they normally did during their free time.

"I don't know," Eddie said, looking down, in thought. "Chris and I have always been able to talk to each other, but now he's secretive. He doesn't tell me anything. We don't play together as much anymore. And not to mention, he's never home. Where does he even go?"

"Um, I think him and Y/N have been hanging together. Before she had the baby, I caught the two of them just hanging out together, but if it's recent, I don't know," Buck said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Ah," Eddie responded with a nod of his head.

"So, what's been going on with you, Buck-a-roo?" Chimney asked. Everyone turned to Buck, waiting for a response.

Buck shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say. Before answering Chimney, he thought for a second, "Y/N's been doubting being a mother."

Chimney looked around the firehouse. It seemed he was searching for something. "What are you doing?" Hen asked as everyone began to look up at Chimney with confused looks.

"I'm looking for a small infant that resembles a mixture of Buck and Y/N. I love your sister, Buck, but raising a baby while looking for the mother of your child can be stressful. Take it from the man who toured the country while documenting his daughter's firsts in different states," Chimney said.

"Y/N wouldn't do that," Buck paused. "She's just so stressed with everything, and it doesn't help that both Lana and her mother have been stressing her out lately. I came home the other day, and she was crying. Her mother had just left and Lana hadn't stopped crying until I got ahold of her. Not to mention, she looked like she was about to pass out. I love Y/N and I hate seeing her struggle. I know she's a good mother, but I just don't know how to show her," Buck said to his coworkers.

"Do you think Y/N and Lana have trouble bonding?" Eddie asked, leaning forward in his seat. Buck shrugged once more.

"Well, take it from me. When your child doesn't want to bond with you, it really does take a toll on you. And I understand that Chris is getting older, and that's what kids do when they get older, but Lana is dependent on you and Y/N, and for her to not want Y/N's help make be what's upsetting her," Eddie said.

"But how do I help them bond?"

"You seem to get along great with Lana. Give them some time together. Lana will one day realize that she needs her mother, and she'll allow her mother into her life," Hen said with a calming tone.

"Yeah, and if it gets too hard for her, guide her through it. You know what Lana likes. Instead of taking Lana from Y/N, suggest something that might help. But I have faith in Y/N," Chimney suggested.

Y/n walked into her apartment with Lana's car seat in one arm and groceries in the other. She struggled as she waddled to the kitchen, placing the car seat on the counter before setting the groceries on the floor. Y/N let out a sigh of relief as the release of the pressure took over her.

Lana began crying; luckily, it wasn't as loud as the other day. Y/N unbuckled Lana and pulled her up to her chest. She began to pat the baby's back as she tried to calm her down with some calming noises. But Lana didn't stop.

"Oh, no. Not again," Y/N muttered to herself, as she was now bouncing the child in her arms.

Just as Y/N was about to give up. Buck came back in from his run. "Hey, babe," Buck said, taking out his earbuds. Buck lightly jogged over to the two, kissing both of them on the head. "Why is it that whenever I come home, you're always crying?" Buck asked his daughter.

Instead of a response from Lana, Buck receives one from Y/N. "I don't know why she's crying. I fed her in the car. I changed her at the store. She's had a nap. I don't think she likes me, Buck," Y/N began to pout.

"She likes you. Crying is just a thing that babies do,” Buck said, trying to reassure his girlfriend. Y/N sighed, looking down. She didn't feel that the reason for Lana's constant crying was because it was natural. Sure, crying is natural for babies, but it felt like Lana never stops crying whenever the two are together, by themselves.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, and when I get out, we can make lunch and go for a walk or something," Buck said. He kissed Y/N's temple before he began to walk away. But he stopped when he heard Y/N begin to speak again. He turned around, looking at the girl as she spoke.

"But what am I supposed to do about her?" Y/N pouted as Lana cried against her chest.

Buck shrugged. "Try soothing her. You're a great singer. Try singing her a lullaby," Buck said as he made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Y/N took a deep breath, looking down at her daughter, who seemed to be in distress, with worried eyes. She decided to take Buck's advice. She had also seen other mothers do it with their children when she was out in public. It seemed to work then, so why not now? "Shh... It's all going to be okay." Y/N rocked the baby as she whispered some calming words into her daughter's ear. Her words seemed to work since the girl had stopped crying.

Lana stared up at her mother, emotionless. Y/N smiled at her daughter as a soft tear rolled down her face. She was happy. She had finally made progress with her daughter. Lana began to coo in her ear, making Y/N laugh in excitement. Y/N slowly swayed the girl around in her arms as she hummed the words to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are.

Y/N repeated it a couple more times before hearing a small laugh from the child in her arms. "You like that?" Y/N asked Lana as she laughed some more. Y/N sang it once more, but this time she danced around the room with Lana in her arms.

Unknowingly, Buck had been watching the whole thing from the bathroom. He had yet to get into the shower, but when he heard the harmonious sound of his girlfriend's voice, he couldn't help but see what was happening. So, he slowly cracked the door open, careful not to interrupt, and he watched.

Every time she sang the song with a smile, Buck's smile got even wider. His advice from his friends worked. He helped Y/N out, but he didn't take over. He just hoped that it could always be like this.

When Y/N was done singing, she began tickling the child earning bursts of loud laughter. Buck took this as a good sign and returned to his shower.

When he got out, Buck left the bathroom, dressed, and ready to go on a walk. He had on a grey tank top and black workout shorts. As he left the steamy room he was met with Y/N kneeling infront of a stroller, snapping Lana into it. Both wore jean shorts but Y/N wore a teal crop top, and Lana had on a pink shirt that read 'Princess' in gold letters and matching shades.

"Are you ready to go?" Y/N asked Lana in her baby voice. Lana laughed, making Y/N clap her hands as she copied her daughter's actions.

Buck cleared his throat, getting Y/N's attention. Y/N looked over at Buck with a slight jump, scared from not noticing Buck. She shyly looked away, embarrassed.

"So, you too made up?" Buck asked with a knowing smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N responded, "Yes. In fact, you were right. Babies are known for crying; all she needed was to be soothed." Buck enjoyed the beaming smile on her face as she said that.

"Huh."

"Yep, I sang a little toon, and from then on, I hadn't heard a peep. We got dressed, and now, here we are," Y/N said happily.

"Well, that's good... Shall we get going?" Buck asked, pointing over to the door. Y/N nodded in response, getting up off the ground. Buck moved to grab the stroller, and the happy couple happily made their way out of the house with their newborn for a nice afternoon walk.

A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to write this. I do plan on writing more often. I had a goal to publish this before school started back up again, but that didn't work out. So, my 2023 New Years' resolution is to get to the point where I publish at least 2 fics a week. Once again, I am so sorry. Please 🙏🏼 don't be mad.

If your user is in red, I could not find you. Please feel free to contact me if you'd like to be re-added or removed from my taglist. Taglist: @mrspeacem1nusone @girlnred @okiegirl24 @babypink224221 @iamasimpingh0e @Virginia @alexxavicry @kaitieskidmore1 @vanessaw05 @bellarkeselection @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @icemansgirl1999 @esposadomd @buckysmainhxe @sunwardsss

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911onfox #911 fanfiction #911 imagine #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #request #masterlist #requested #imagine #evan buckley imagine #bobby nash #howie han #henrietta wilson #maddie buckley #athena grant #oliver stark #oliver stark x reader #dad! buck #baby fluff #fluff #angst

[dantesunbreaker]

Hey hey hey. I noticed your requests were open and am taking this chance to ask for some Dad Secondo content. I crave soft Secondo and I am currently starved.

A Calming Embrace

Secondo x Reader(Platonic)

Sorry this took so long! Been so busy with planning and preparing for Christmas! But here is a small little piece of supportive Secondo!

An almost buzzing hum vibrates through your mind with a near echo as you try to pull your habit even tighter around your body, praying that it could simply make you disappear. Tears sting your eyes, cheeks flushed and dripping. You feel small. Pitiful. The crushing weight of responsibility weighing heavy down on your consequently not so steady shoulders. 

This was so unlike you..or at least that is what you would like to tell yourself. Normally you were much stronger than this. But times like this were becoming far too regular of an occurrence ever since the start of the latter quarter of the year. Ever since your decision to take on extra studies on top of your already busy schedule in service of the Clergy. 

Sleep has been far from your concerns for many nights, trying instead to cram in as much researching and reading as you could in the quiet solitude of the library. Which is exactly where you find yourself now, tucked away in one of the library reading nooks, wishing that the world could just fall away if even for just a few moments so you could get yourself back together. At least you are alone, without worrying about someone seeing you in the pits. Or at least that is what you think, up until you hear the familiar click of dress shoes walking on the stone tile floor.

Your heart jumps in your chest, but by the time you hear the sound, it is already too late to make an escape or even try to hide your tears. Eyes remaining fixed in place, you try to keep your composure as the bottom of elegant black robes suddenly block out your field of view. No, please anyone but him.

“Piccolo,” you flinch at the timbre of Secondo's voice, focused on his shoes as you nervously wipe away a few more tears. “What are you doing in the library at this hour? Siblings of Sin should be in bed at this time.”

Instead of a verbal response, you are cut off by your own choked hiccup that poorly conceals what could have been a sob. Another crashing wave of embarrassment hits you. Letting out a small whimper, you drop your head and try to curl in upon yourself. How could you let a Papa see you this way? How lowly would Secondo think of you now that he is seeing you at your worst? 

But instead of harsh words or a lecture, you feel a soft touch on your shoulder. Gasping softly, your eyes lift up to meet mismatched ones that are unexpectedly at your level. Secondo rests crouched down to your level, features soft despite the stern look painted onto his face. You think that perhaps this is the first time you have ever seen such genuine concern glimmering through his gaze, and it strikes a chord in your heart that has you trembling as you lean into his touch.

“Tell me, what is troubling you?” There is no malice in his voice, no harsh criticism, or judgment. No, all that you hear is the softness a father would use to speak with his own child. “Are you hurt?”

Sniffling, you furiously wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve as you drop your gaze and shake your head. As more of your weight pushes into the hand at your shoulder, Secondo shifts to allow you to rest against his chest, one arm wrapped securely around the back of your shoulders. It hits you with a wave of safety and warmth. 

“No, I am not hurt Papa,” you finally manage to gather the strength to mumble out, bottom lip still wobbling but your tears finally beginning to dry. You tilt your head up to look him in the eyes once more. “I’ve just been so overwhelmed lately. Trying to squeeze in extra studies on top of all my duties for the Clergy...it has been becoming too much for me. I feel like I barely have time to even think, let alone sleep. I feel weak, like I am a failure, and a let down to the Clergy.”

Secondo gives an understanding hum in response as a hand at the back of your head encourages you to rest your cheek against his collarbone. It soothes you in a way you haven’t felt for a long time. Feeling the support from such an influential figure in your life.

“It can be easy to feel overwhelmed by work,” Secondo keeps his voice soft as he cards his fingers through your hair. Words of comfort haven’t always been his strong suit, but damn if he did not try. “Even as Papa, I sometimes feel the same. Always so much to do but never enough time to finish it all.”

Another sniffle leaves you, but you remain silent otherwise, waiting for Secondo to continue. The hand at your shoulders rubbing firm circles into your tense muscles. 

“But that does not make you weak. It only means that you are human,” Secondo leans you back just enough to catch his eye, making sure you can feel the intensity and truth behind his words. “There is no shame in admitting that things are too much, and in fact, I am incredibly proud of you for being able to share with me.”

Tears once more sting your eyes, but from an overwhelming sense of love and affection, from finally feeling seen. Secondo gives a soft smile before he tucks you back against his chest, giving no complaints even as he feels the tears soaking through his robes. For the longest time, he simply holds you until you are quiet once more. Even then, he stays with you up until you finally shift around, feeling restless from staying in place for so long.

“Come tesorino,” Secondo breaks the silence with a soft voice, yet firm confidence that made it clear there was not much room for argument. He stands first, hands upturned in offerance to help lift you back onto your feet. “Let’s get you back to your quarters for some much needed sleep. I will meet with Sister Imperator in the morning to discuss reassigning some of your duties.”

#ghost the band #the band ghost #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #secondo #ghost fanfiction #asks #requests

[naeices]

A Toast In Tartosa | Meet Ravi Nitin

Name: Ravi Nitin Age: 27 Zodiac: Virgo Traits: Food Lover, Loner, Romantic Career: Actor

Ravi Nitin was raised in a 7 sibling household in Willow Creek. Ravi was amused once his dad brought him to a play called "San Myshuno" (Inspired by Chicago The Musical) Ravi knew he didn't want to be a doctor like his parents or eldest siblings. If Anything He was born for the spotlight. Went to University for Film and Art with a Minor in Culinary leading him to the love of food and culture. While in College he had a bit of fun. Let's just say he has a lot more in the bank not from being the son of two important doctors in Willow Creek, but maybe a Sugar fund from Judith Ward herself which got him into his big gig as the starring lead hunk of a romcom.

Likes: Anime, Morning Jogs, Twix (His Miniature dachshund), Sage Green, Storm Gray, SZA, Classic films, Spiritual Gurus, Body Hair, Reading romcoms, Cosplay, Silence, Candle-Lite Rooms, Playing in the rain, Pottery, Cooking, Celebrity crush Octavia Bailey

Dislikes: Jealousy, Club House Music, Cheap food, hot weather, no culture, no structure, Clowns, Cheap Wine, Bad Dressers, Contacts (Because he has trouble with putting them on himself), Throne Bailey, cheap parties, quick romances

BIG SHOUT OUT TO @wrixie I really enjoyed reading and looking at their competition and artwork towards this whole challenge.

★ Contestant Entry Guidelines ★

Must be Young-Adult or Adult

Humans & Occults are Welcomed

Must have at least one negative trait

Can be any gender, preferably female

Skills don't matter (but would help for character building)

Must have Likes + Dislikes

Maxis-Match or CC Free

Must be comfortable with changes like eyes, skin blends, and lashes due to me having different defaults in my game to keep my own style flowing.

★ How to become a contestant ★

So I have a small platform so there really isn't a deadline I'm looking for 7 contestants so I'm praying I get some ppl interested Please at me @naeices & Hashtag #NaeBC so I can be able to see your entries Please feel free to ask me questions!

★ 7/7 Contestants ★ i. Lauryn Faith Weaver | @beebeesiims ii. BALEIGH GREY | @comfyinn iii. Roxanne Kennedy | @agena87 iv. Ife Akintola | @estah v. Maribel Benitez | @lonvely vi.Marley Dunham | @kikitrait vii.Lourdes Jaleel Harper | @akitasimblr SO EXCITED I think I typed enough again thank you so much!

Oh My Goodness! I didn't think this would've gotten so much attention. Thank you everyone who sent me questions, concerns, and even their beautiful sim ladies. Anyways I will be posting more about them in this upcoming week so stay tune!

#Naecies #The Sims 4 Bachelor Series #NaeBC #The Sims 4

[thepaperpanda]

A Cultural Fusion || Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya reader

Masterlist

Summary: Neteyam instructs you on the customs and significance of Valentine's Day, a special day celebrated by humans

Warnings: none

Word count: 1690

Author: Rouge

A/N: prior to reading, it’s important to know that: the reader is female Omaticaya ✤ you'll find a glossary underneath the fic ✤ today’s prompt: learning about Valentine’s Day

Neteyam had always been fascinated by the ways of the humans. He had spent many evenings listening to his father recounting stories about the strange and exotic customs of the outsiders. But one particular story had always stuck with him - a tale about a special day called Valentine's Day.

As he walked through the lush forest, Neteyam spotted you sitting alone by the river, lost in your thoughts. He approached you with a gentle smile, curious to know what was on your mind.

You looked up at him and returned the smile, happy to have some company.

“Oel ngati kameie, Y/N," Neteyam greeted you. "Are you okay? You seem a little troubled."

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. "I'm fine. I'm just thinking about something."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Neteyam asked kindly, taking a look around, smiling as he spotted a few kenten sitting in the nearby bushes.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "It's just that tomorrow is Valentine's Day, Lo’ak told me about that, and I don't really know what it means. I’ve never heard about this before. And your brother said it has something to do with love and feelings, but I don’t know if I can believe him."

Neteyam's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah, I know about this day. My father told me about it. It's a day when humans show their love and affection for one another."

You looked at him curiously. "How do they do that when they do not have anything similar to tsaheylu?"

Neteyam paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Well, they exchange gifts, like flowers or sweets, to show that they care about each other. And they spend time together, doing things they enjoy."

You listened intently, fascinated by the concept of expressing love through such simple gestures. "But why is it called Valentine's Day?" You asked.

Neteyam shrugged. "I'm not sure. My father didn't tell me that part. But I think it's because there was a human saint named Valentine who used to help people express their love. Humans have a lot of saints, after all."

"Saints? What are those?" You asked, puzzled.

"They are people who are believed to have lived holy lives and are now in heaven. Humans pray to them for help and guidance," Neteyam explained, taking a seat by your side, slipping his feet into the water.

You looked at him, surprised. "Really? Humans have so many beliefs and traditions. I can't keep up with all of them."

Neteyam chuckled. "I know it can be overwhelming. But I find it fascinating to learn about all these different customs and beliefs. It helps me understand humans better. My dad was one of them, after all."

You nodded, but you still didn't quite understand why humans would pray to someone who was no longer alive. Neteyam could see the confusion on your face.

"It's hard to explain, Y/N. But I think it gives humans comfort to know that there are people in the heavens watching over them," he said.

You looked at him curiously. "Heaven? What's that?"

"It's a place where humans believe they can be happy forever, with no pain or sadness," Neteyam explained, playing with a tuft of grass.

You nodded, trying to understand this concept. "So it's like a place of eternal peace?"

"Exactly," Neteyam nodded with a smile. "It's like becoming one with Eywa after death. Humans believe that they can reunite with their loved ones who have passed away and be with them forever in heaven."

You felt a sense of understanding dawn on you. "I see. It's like the ultimate reunion."

"Yes. It's a way for humans to find comfort in the face of death, to believe that they can be together with their loved ones again someday."

You smiled, feeling grateful for Neteyam's insights. It was always interesting to learn about the beliefs and customs of humans, even if they were different from your own and usually meant danger. And in some ways, the concept of heaven was similar to your own belief in the afterlife, of becoming one with Eywa and the spirits of your ancestors. It was a reminder that, despite all our differences, there were still common threads that bound everyone all together. You thought about this for a moment, trying to wrap your head around the concept. "I see. I guess it's like how we believe in the spirits of our ancestors who guide us."

Neteyam smiled. "Exactly! It's different, but it's also similar in a way."

You smiled back at him, feeling grateful for his insights into the human world. It was always interesting to learn about their many beliefs and traditions, even if you didn't always understand them.

You nodded, feeling grateful for Neteyam's explanation. "Thanks for telling me about it. It sounds like a nice tradition, that Valentine's Day. But it’s a little strange that humans have one particular day where they are affectionate with their loved ones."

Neteyam had been thinking about Valentine's Day for a while, and he decided to make a small gift for you. He spent many hours working on it, putting all his love and care into each stitch and bead. "Y/N, I made this for you. It's not much, but I wanted to give you something special for Valentine's Day, even if it would take place only tomorrow," Neteyam whispered, reaching for the little bag hung over his shoulder. He pulled out a beautiful bracelet made of woven leaves and colorful beads. It was delicate and intricate, and you could see the time and care that Neteyam had put into making it.

“Neteyam,” you whispered, looking up at him, accepting the gift. “Ma Eywa! It’s beautiful.”

Neteyam smiled, happy to see you enjoying the gift. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted to bring something from human tradition, because that's what father does for mom, and I thought a handcrafted gift would be a good choice."

You nodded, feeling grateful for Neteyam's effort and his understanding of human customs. It was fascinating to learn all that stuff about sky people.

"Thank you, Neteyam. This is a wonderful gift, and I'll cherish it always," you said, putting the bracelet on your wrist and admiring its beauty. “But… I don’t have anything for you, and after what you said I understand that Valentine’s Day is about exchanging gifts.”

Neteyam's smile widened, pleased to have made you happy. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to both of you, a symbol of the growing bond as Neteyam had his eye on you for a long while. "There's something you can do for me," Neteyam suggested.

Your head tilted to the side, and you asked, "What's that?"

In a bold voice, he asked, "Kiss me." Neteyam gazed into your eyes, feeling his heart racing with anticipation. He took a deep breath and reached out to gently take your hand in his. Neteyam leaned in closer to her, feeling a surge of courage. "There's something that draws me to you. I feel a connection with you that I can't explain." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then he leaned in even closer until your faces were just inches apart. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into Neteyam's eyes. You saw the sincerity and vulnerability in his expression, and you felt your own heart begin to race in response. Without a word, you leaned in and met Neteyam's lips with yours, feeling a jolt of electricity pass between them.

For a moment, the world around you fell away as you shared your first kiss. It was a gentle and tender moment, filled with the promise of what could be. As you pulled away, Neteyam looked at you and smiled, feeling a sense of hope and joy that he had never felt before. He looked at you, his eyes wide with awe and wonder. It was as if a new world had opened up to him, and he was seeing everything in a different light. He couldn't believe how soft your lips were, how your touch had sent shivers down his spine, and how his heart was beating so fast in his chest. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he knew that he was completely and utterly smitten. For a moment, he was lost in his thoughts, trying to process the overwhelming feeling that had taken over him. As he looked at you, he saw the way your eyes sparkled in the light, the way your smile made his heart flutter, and he knew that he was in trouble. He had never felt this way before, and he knew that he wanted to explore this new and exciting world of emotions that you had introduced him to. Neteyam couldn't wait to see what the future held for the two of you, and he knew that he was ready to take on any challenge as long as he had you by his side.

In that moment, you knew that everything had changed. You felt an intense connection with Neteyam, and you were completely enamored with him. It was a kiss that you would never forget, and you couldn't wait to see where this newfound attraction would take you. “Neteyam,” you whispered softly, trying to find proper words to describe your feelings.

“Shhh,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his strong chest. “I’m also lost for words.”

You couldn't help but nuzzle your face into Neteyam's chest, basking in the warmth and comfort that emanated from him. It felt like you were melting into him, and the feeling that rose within your chest was indescribable. As you breathed in his scent, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. It was like you were exactly where you were meant to be, and everything else in the world just fell away. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, and letting yourself be completely enveloped by the feeling of being in Neteyam's arms. It was a moment you knew you would treasure forever.

Glossary:

kenten - fan lizard

tsaheylu - bond

oel ngati kameie - I see you

#paperpanda valentines’23 event #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #neteyam fiction #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #na’vi!reader #avatar x reader #avatar recommendations #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam x you

[impyssadobsessions]

Resemblance pls 👀

AH! one of my fave wips >w< kekekekke I'm working out the problems with ages and locations... or if its time travel with it. BUT BASICALLY!!

If Danny 10 Dick be 30 Bruce 46 Jason 25 Tim/steph 23 cass 25 babs 33 Damian 16 Unless time travel which danny could be 14 (Rough calculations.. =w= and it being in bludheaven is the issue kind of) Dick is Danny's bio dad. And mom was actually Catlina Forge (Tarantula) from the rooftop scene. >> the not consensual one. Neither Danny and Dick know this yet though. Dick meets Danny on the streets and after sometime convinces him to come back with him. So Danny and Dick build up this relationship, finding out they like similar things and know each other's secret identity. Danny hell bent on helping Dick because he been doing this vigilante stuff alone. Dick does have Babs searching up Danny, to see what he can do for the kid. Only for them come across the fact he was adopted. Biologically is Dick's.. Bruce is the one to call and tell Dick. (Explaining this first half poorly Imma sorry~) Dick tries to mentally figure out who it could be, almost believing maybe someone stole his dna and made a kid. Supes had that happen- only for a possibility to be stuck in his head. Making him shut down for a few days. AND Now I'll show an excerpt because I wrote some parts of this scene >w<. All can change when I write it but I did write out a few scenes.

“You just puked your guts out, I really don't think-” “I'll be fine, Danny. I can't let a little stomach trouble keep me from protecting people.” Dick kept his back facing Danny. He knew the kid could tell something's bothering him. He just.. couldn't tell him. How could he? Not yet. “Then let me-” “No!” Dick visibly flinched at his own voice, taking a deep breath so he could face Danny. He forced a smile, looking an empty spot beside Danny's head. “Look, Its fine. You patrolled last night. Just stay here, okay? I'll be back at the usual time.” Danny stayed silent, glancing him over, before turning his head to the side in defeat. Dick felt so guilty, but it was pouring.. and he just.. couldn't. Not tonight. He needed to be alone. “Don't get sicker.” the boy muttered. Dick gave a nod, then turned to leave out the window into the dark and rainy night. Praying Danny just stays put as he asked. He didn't want Danny to leave, but it was difficult to be around him right now. If he really was.. Dick felt bile wanting to come up his throat. Shame washing over him, as he grappled to another rooftop, keeping pace. He needed to watch out for crime.. he'll simmer over things later.

Dick perched himself on one of the rooftops, rain pouring down hard around him. It was almost impossible to see. Yet, he watched as his hair stuck to his face, soaked with rain. He should head home. Its been a quiet night, but his mind kept replaying images of that night in his head. His throat swallowed thickly. He felt a figure swoop in beside him. The rain no longer was beating into his back as he noticed familiar cape through the corner of his eye. “What'chu doing all the way out here, B?” “You haven't responded in days.” “Days? That's how long, huh.” Dick knew he should have at least texted them but he didn't want to. Couldn't pull himself to. “Hope you didn't scare Danny or did you use the tracker?” “...Apartment was empty.” Dick's eyes widened as he stood up, returning back into his place in the rain. He searched behind them, furrowing his brows. “Danny. I know you're there.” There was nothing but the rain for a few minutes. “You're not in trouble.” Dick knew the kid was just watching out for him. Still sent a chill up his spine to know he was being watched without knowing it. They heard an audible sigh as Danny revealed himself in his phantom form. He was rubbing his arms and looking at his feet out of guilt of being caught. He floated there a moment, then looked up glancing between Batman and Dick. “Sorry. I know you said.. I just.. I..-i'll just get going.” Before Dick could say anything, Danny flew off back towards the apartment. The word 'wait' uncomfortably stay stuck in his swelling throat as he watched Danny disappear into the dense rain. Dick sighed running his fingers through his hair. He didn't know what to do. Tears pricking his eyes. “Have you told him?” Bruce asked. Dick weakly chuckled, blinking back his tears. His voice breaking as he talked not looking back at the man who raised him. “No.. I ..I couldn't .. I can't If its true then it has to be.. that night..”

“Son.. What did ___ do?” “Oh god, so it is her, Huh?”

Bruce only nodded with a grunt, eyes soft. “Its nothing-” “Dick, you've been shutting yourself in.” “Rich coming from you-” “Please. You don't have to tell me, but at least let us help you. You're not alone, you will never be alone.” “..B.. Dad.. I “ Dick fell face first into Bruce's shoulder and started crying. Bruce embraced his son with his arms, allowing Dick to do the same. Dick gripped tightly at Bruce's cape as he cried. It took him a few minutes before he could gather his voice again. He peaked back at his Father with a sniffle, before finally telling Bruce what had happened all those years ago. --- Stupid. He should have known he overstayed his welcome! Danny knew whatever was bothering Dick... it was about him. He had to leave, tonight. He didn't want to cause Dick anymore distress, besides he probably be better off than to have Danny leeching off of him.

Danny flew straight into the apartment. He didn't have time to change. Just grab his bag and-Danny walked out of the bedroom into the living room, realizing he wasn't the only one there. “So this is Dickie's little side bird?” A guy leaning casually back on the couch with black hair and white stripe. He had a red bat on his chest and a brown jacket. Something was off with him, the white hair didn't seem bleached. At least not by normal method. Danny was sure of it. “You look like you were about to fly the coop.” Said another, black hair boy, he wore a red and black outfit too, but it was more red than black. Danny stood their frozen, as the group stared at him. There was three others who hadn't spoke yet. A girl in black and yellow eyeing him down. A dark skin boy in a yellow suit, and a boy in a red, green, with a black and yellow cape. He looked the closest to his age. They mentioned Dick.. why were they all here in their costumes? I guess it be harder to realize their family. The silence dragged on too long as he heard a cough coming from the dark skinned hero. “I.. I wasn't...” Danny tossed his bag through the door, as he allowed himself to plop his feet onto the ground. “Why are..Who are..” “Big bird doesn't even talk about us!” The black and white haired man mocked as he placed a hand over his heart. “We're Dick's siblings.” “Any reason you all are here.. dressed as...?” “Father thought something terrible had happened to both you and Richard, so we came to investigate. That's when Father found out Richard was on patrol.” The younger of the group spoke, though he sounded quite older. “Oh.. no. We're...” fine wouldn't really be the right word. Danny rubbed his arm awkwardly, “So.. you guys already.. know.. right?” “Yeah, kid. We do.” The man spoke softly. Danny stared at the black and white haired man. His words were sincere as he stared at him. He had died too, that must have been Jason. Danny sighed and decided his escape was post-pone, he might as well get comfy. White rings appeared at his waist then split into two as it washed up and down his form, revealing his human form. “What a costume change, wish my suit was that easy.” Duke whistled, rubbing his eyes. Danny rubbed his arm awkwardly, shuffling in one spot. “This is your home, don't be a stranger. Tim call pizza.” Jason patting empty space between him and Tim. “A game.” The girl spoke with a smile. “Duke, look under the cabinet, I'm sure Dickie got them some where.” “Ac-actually they're in the coffee table.” Danny pointed out as he shuffled to take a sit, feeling uncomfortable being in the middle. He had to play along, maybe they'll lighten up enough and he can go. Before they realize how much pain he's causing their brother.

--- So he hangs out with them for a little while til he just wants to be alone. So he finally took Dick's offer and tells the others he's stealing Dick's bed for the night. He ends up falling asleep in clothes Dick gave him for pjs, with a picture of the Fenton family by his head because he's really missing home.. not feeling like he belongs anywhere despite how warm everyone was.. he just misses being with his family (even if parents shot him lol) plus just feels lonely.

Dick gets back and the batfam informs him that Danny might fly away so Cass n Duke stays after a debate, they stay in the living room.. and so Dick makes his way to bedroom to change. (Dick having given Bruce permission to let the others know since they both figured they would dig until they found out anyways the woes of a detective family) mix feelings still there. Notices the photo by Danny's head and tries to take a peak, only for danny to wake up. Then an awkward talk, Danny offering to move back to the couch but dick telling him to stay there, duke and cass sleeping in the living room. Danny offering the floor but Dick saying he's not going to make danny sleep in the floor. though it is awkward for him to. Talk about Danny's family a bit before Danny goes to get water while dick changes. Only to break a glass because Cass scares him (she noticed that he seemed prepared to just up and fly again. )-- basically its a night of talking and sharing a bed. cass and duke staying til both dick and danny are up to let them talk seriously =w= though they procrastinate on it longer. But their last night talk did make danny not feel like he has to fly away.. =w= b though dick wakes up from a nightmare danny over heard Duke and Cass had breakfast ordered (bruce's gift lol ) but dick woke up from trauma nightmare and so he isn't feeling it. Saying Danny can have his. Danny argues.. but dick's right, Danny can eat both (probably should) So asks if he wants him to get the cereal. )

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam #danny fenton #danny is dick's son #worse way possible #they have to work through trauma #so very angsty and healing fic #writing excerpts #came about because I wanted more dick #that sounds awful out of context #and in context #fanfic wip #asks #tw rape

[fandomxpreferences]

Lady of the Night Chapter Six: I Spilled the Beans, and I'm Not Cleaning Them Up

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader

TW: angst kind of? I think thats it

Summary: Jake has loose lips and it gets you in trouble.

Word Count:1.6k

Everyone is sitting around Maverick's living room for game night and you're staying as far away from Bradley as you can. Everyone else knows about the two of you but you haven't had the chance to tell Mav yet. You don't want to take the risk of making a mistake, and you know that you and Bradley can't keep your hands off each other if you're within reaching distance.

The night has been full of drinks and laughter, everyone riding a light buzz. Everyone except Jake and Coyote at least. They've been having a drinking contest and the blonde pilot is well past drunk. Somehow you got on the topic of Jake's love life and you've just been observing and laughing so far. 

Jake says something about never having had a real girlfriend and Phoenix snorts. "Well, that's no surprise. You're the biggest whore out of all of us. I don't think you've ever had a woman around long enough to even know her eye color." She jests and the group breaks out into a fit of giggles. 

Jake looks downright offended and he scoffs. "I may be a whore but at least I didn't almost get Cobra pregnant." He remarks and everything stops. Your eyes go wide as you stare at him and you could hear a pin drop. 

The group may know about your relationship but they certainly didn't know that little tidbit of information. You don't dare look at Bradley but you can guess he has the same shell-shocked and panicked expression that you do. 

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and you can feel your dad staring at the side of your face. You finally turn to look at him and he has a deep scowl covering his features. 

"What the hell is he talking about?" He asks and you gulp. Your eyes shoot back to Hangman and he looks equally surprised at what just left his mouth and you can see the guilt wash over him. 

"Well, I think I've had enough to drink." He mutters and Phoenix punches his arm. 

"You think, asshole?" 

You're praying for the ground to swallow you whole and your mind races as you try to think of something to say. You could try to play it off like he's joking, but you know based on everyone's reaction that your dad won't buy it. 

"Y/N. What the hell is he talking about?" He asks again and you turn back to him nervously. Stupid Jake Seresin and his big fucking mouth.

"Um..I- he- shit." You stutter before running a hand through your hair. Mav finally looks away to scan the group and when he lands on Bradley's pale face, he already knows. 

"Everybody out." He states calmly and the rest of the team leaps to their feet. 

"Yup." Jake agrees and they all practically run to the front door. Bradley's refusal to move only further solidifies Mav's suspicion and you can see the gears turning in his head. 

"Talk." He demands and Bradley gives you a sympathetic look. He knows Mav isn't talking to him and trying to speak right now would only put his foot in his mouth. 

"This isn't how this was supposed to go." You mumble and your dad lets out a squeaky scoff. 

"How what was supposed to go? Somebody better start explaining right this second or I swear to god." He warns and you close your eyes. Despite his threat, you don't get the chance to respond before he starts off on a tangent. 

"Are you two sleeping together? How many times? Actually, don't answer that. What the fuck is going on?" He rambles and you sigh. "Bradley, how could you do this? My daughter? Really?" He exclaims and you finally interrupt him. 

"Dad! Stop. We're not just sleeping together. We're dating." You explain and based on his reaction you would think you just told him you're dying. 

"What?!?" He shouts and Bradley shifts anxiously. "For how long?" 

"Since the mission." Bradley answers and Mav looks like he might go into cardiac arrest. 

He looks at you exasperated and you almost laugh at the distraught look on his face.

"Tell me that's not true. Spare me the depression." 

You nod your head slowly and watch him carefully. "It's true." You confirm and he falls back in his seat dramatically. 

"I wish I'd known when you were born you would betray me like this." He exaggerates and you settle in for what's shaping up to be a long discussion. He looks at Bradley again and shakes his head. "I raised you like my own child and this is how you pay me back? You're practically siblings!" He shouts and your face scrunches up. 

"Okay, reel it in. We'd never even met! We didn't even know when we went home together the first time!" You try to reason but it only seems to make it worse. 

"So you slept with him without even knowing who he was? Have you hit your head?" He questions and you roll your eyes. 

"Dad, you used to sleep with every woman that glanced your way. Spare me the lecture." You sass and he squints at you. 

"We're not talking about me right now." He says defensively. "We're talking about you having a secret relationship with Bradley and apparently almost making me a grandpa. I'm not old enough to be a grandpa!" 

You stifle a laugh and raise your eyebrows. "I hate to break it to you, but you're definitely old enough to be a grandpa."

His mouth drops open and he stares blankly at you. "What have I done to deserve this? Why didn't you tell me?" He inquires and you throw your hands up. 

"Because I knew this is how you would react!" You exclaim. "I almost lost out on the greatest relationship I've ever had because I was scared of what you would do." 

His face softens and you can see him warming up to the idea just barely. 

"If it helps Mav, this isn't just a fling. I'm in love with her." Bradley says softly and you give him a warm smile. Your dad looks between the two of you before groaning. 

"Do you love him?" He asks you and your hand reaches out to squeeze Bradley's. 

"So much." You whisper and you can see him physically deflating. 

"Fine, you're two consenting adults. I can't stop you. But for the love of god please wrap it up. I'm not ready to have a grandchild." He expresses and you snort loudly. 

"Trust me, we're not ready to be parents. It was a slip-up, I promise." You assure him and he nods warily. 

"Does he treat you well? Are you happy?" He asks you gently and your heart melts at his concern. 

"He's a perfect gentleman and yes. Happier than I've ever been." You smile and he sighs. 

"Well, I guess that's all that matters." He concedes before standing up. You follow his lead and move around the coffee table to give him a tight hug. 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you. We were planning to this weekend. I just wanted to be sure and I didn't want to cause you unnecessary stress." You breathe and he squeezes you while planting a kiss on the side of your head. 

"I get it, kid. Just please don't keep secrets from me anymore. Especially if you're happy. I want to be a part of it." He mumbles and you nod your head into his shoulder. 

He pulls back and Bradley stands to shake his hand. "Hurt her and I will make your life a living hell." He promises and Bradley gives a curt nod. 

"I don't doubt it. I promise I would never do anything to cause her pain." He says sincerely and Mav pulls him into a quick hug with a slap on the back. 

"At least I know you were raised right. It could be worse. She could've gone for Jake." He shrugs and you gag behind him. 

"Well," your dad continues and you move to stand next to Bradley. "I would say welcome to the family, but you've always been a part of it. I guess this doesn't really change anything." 

You smile brightly and Bradley wraps an arm around you. "No, it doesn't. Why don't we watch a movie like we used to?" You offer and your dad breaks out into a grin. 

"Sure, I'll make popcorn. But hands above the blanket at all times and keep the canoodling to a minimum." He says with a pointed finger before turning to go into the kitchen. 

You look up at Bradley and smirk. "Canoodling? He's definitely old enough to be a grandpa." You mutter and he chuckles before you hear Mav's voice ring out. 

"I may be old, but my hearing is still good!" 

You grimace lightly and slap Bradley's stomach when he laughs at you. "Sorry, dad!" You shout and you can hear him grumbling to himself. 

"Now I've got to deal with them ganging up on me. Just peachy." 

You giggle to yourself as you settle into the couch and start browsing for a movie to watch. With the secret fully out, everything is falling into place. You sigh contently and lay your head on Bradley, feeling him press his lips to your temple. 

"I told you it wouldn't be that bad." He reminds you and you glance up at him. 

"At least you didn't have to pull the dead dad card." You quip and he gives you a blinding smile. 

"I love you." He hums and you snuggle into him further. 

"I love you too."

@drakelover78  @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana  @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @chair-things @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world  @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6 @theamuz

#top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #top gun imagine #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw topgun #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

[threadsun]

Just had the thought of Ian meeting Sydney of DoL, and the two swapping stories about being horny with/despite their Religion-based Guilt. Also I feel like Ian would really go for the idea of being written on.

Okay this ask rewired my brain. Ian in DoL in general is........... A Good Concept 😳 Anyway uh... I didn't mean for it to get as gay as it did, but here's this...

“You know, you should really talk to my dad, I think.” Sydney muses, tapping his marker on the table. “If you want to know more about… intimate relationships, I mean.”

“Your dad?” Ian blinks, fingers curling around his rolled up sleeve to hold it in place. “He’s, uh… the science teacher here, right?”

“Yeah.” Sydney bites his lip and nods. “He also—well, nevermind. You’ve got a lot to get used to. Living here isn’t… easy. And moving here is gonna be harder.”

“Oh.” Ian frowns. “I don’t know why my mom brought us here. I think she just liked how cheap the places on Danube street are. C-compared to where we used to live. I mean, I know they’re not cheap, but…”

Sydney gives an uncomfortable smile, uncapping his pen and picking a spot on Ian’s arm to start writing. “Well, anyway… surviving in a place like this, you might want to think about joining the temple. If you want to stay pure, that is.”

Ian watches Sydney write “cute” on his wrist. He flushes a bit and hides his face in his other hand. “Right… I don’t really think—I mean, my mom has her own thoughts about sex. Her religion does. And I don’t really think…”

“You want any part in it?” Sydney nods, writing “adorable” on his inner elbow. “I get that. The temple keeps me busy, but… I do sometimes wonder… Ah, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. My dad’s the one you want to talk to about these things.”

Ian glances between the words and Sydney, trying to keep the heat from his face. “So you… you’re really committed to this whole temple thing then? Like the, uh… chastity and all that?”

Sydney moves back to his forearm, writing “silly” with a little heart. He considers the question. “I think… I was. Brother Jordan made it sound so noble. And I like the work I do there! I like praying, I like being in the temple. It gives me a sense of peace. But… I do wonder sometimes…”

“What it’s like?” Ian perks up, eyes alight with excitement at the thought of having something in common with Sydney. “I… I’ve always wondered… what it’s like.”

Sydney looks almost relieved, though he squirms uncomfortably in his seat. He writes “trouble” on Ian’s elbow, with two exclamation marks. “I… yeah, I-I mean… I’ve thought about it. It feels weird to say. Like I’m somehow betraying the temple… I have vows.”

“Vows…” Ian’s brows furrow at the new word on his skin, worried he’s somehow upset Sydney. “Is that separate from the…?”

Sydney flushes at the awkward nod towards his lap, busying himself writing “confusing” on Ian’s palm. “Y-yes! Well, sort of. I mean… it’s… it’s there to help me keep my vows. It’s not a… a weird thing. I know some people—B-but not me!”

“Hey, uh… i-it’s fine. Sorry for asking.” Ian reaches out and pats Sydney’s hand in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, trying not to seem too put out by the reaction. “You know, it’s nice. You writing on me like this… It’s kinda s-soothing…”

Sydney stops in the middle of writing “subdued” and stares up at Ian with wide eyes. He drops his pen like it’s burnt him, grabbing his bag and making some hurried excuses before dashing from the canteen. Ian watches him go with a sigh. He’d blown it. He looks down at the back of his hand and flushes. There, in Sydney’s neat handwriting…

“Sub”

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj ian #degrees of lewdity #dol sydney #18+ only #sunshine

[lipglossanon]

i’m sorry i was gone for so long i thought my episode was better but life my depression fucked me in the ass with a cactus and no lube lmao but someone asked about priest leon and it triggered my writing urges again, i can’t promise consistency but i can promise he will fill you with something more than the holy spirit, i can’t tell you about the second coming cumming of christ but i can tell you about the third and fourth, he’s probably so happy being cooped up in the woods with no one else and i can really see him just having the unholiest vhs porn collection from like the 70s to 80s and a tiny ass tv that works in like one corner of the chapel and god does it echo so just imagine him being so unruffled by someone accidentally interrupting his self care and it’s the prettiest woman he’s ever seen the only woman he’s seen in months and he’s so eager to help you he just ~accidentally~ makes your car troubles worse and just ~accidentally~ has only one bed available and oops guess we have to share 🤭 he’s so touch starved and giving dark stepdaddy leon energy just noncon all the way, you wake up with him in you while being choked by the rosary he always keeps on and he’s just praying over your fucked out limp body and starts murmuring while kissing away your tears because he’s too big but he accidentally totally not on purpose slips it in the wrong hole and tears you causing you to bite down on his hand he shoves in your mouth while you scream but he doesn’t stop despite how tight your asshole is he just uses your blood as lube to make it less friction-y for him and he says he can’t get someone out to help with your car so you’re stuck with him for weeks and he’s does shit like hide your clothes so you’re either naked or in his clothes ugh 😩 i could ramble for ages about older priest leon 🤭

- 💀

(real dad leon has had me in a chokehold, pun intended, since my depressive episode started like imagine your parents got divorced and you’re spending the summer with your dad who’s getting paid leave because claire can’t believe he actually wants to spend time with his family totally not why readers mom divorced him and he sees you in bikini for the first time to just absolutely loose his shit and spend the entire time in the kitchen because the sliding glass door is the closest he can get to you without wanting to rail you and you notice your bikini goes missing before you do your laundry and he catches you snooping through his room to try and find it so he has to punish you 🫣 idk how rough he would be but i feel like i’ve sent enough asks in for the idea of what i would want to be there jsit insyert anything dark stepdaddy leon would do lol, i’ve also read your more recent fics and they’re so good!!!!! i love stepbro leon i would love to see more mean older stepbro leon who just bullies reader even in front of their parents and doesn’t even hide his arousal when he makes you cry like him pulling really sexual jokes and pranks on you to humiliate you because he can tell you like him 👀)

💀 anon!!!!!!! 🤩 🤩 welcome back!!! 💜

It has been many moons since you’ve been here!! I’m sorry that depression is getting to you, sending you lots of hugs!!! 🫂

Will put a cut as this reply gets long AF 🤣

AHSJGL 🫣 not him getting caught watching some cheesy porno 🤭 ugh just waking up with him already buried in your pussy is making my head 🥴 like maybe you were a little flirty with him after you saw him in such compromising way (and he’s not bad on the eyes 😜)

But it’s still unexpected when you wake up to feeling uncomfortably full, pussy stretched out and pulsing around his cock as he ruts into you slowly 😵‍💫 and he’s just telling you how well you’re taking it, how hot and wet you are, how much he needed this soft pussy wrapped around his dick 🥴

Painal (I think that’s what that is right? Ugh I probably should google it but I don’t wanna see the results 🤣) is 50/50 for me 🫣 it’s hot but at the same time I’m like drawing my body inward cause ouchie 😆 but him not caring and just needing to use a hole to cum? 🥵 yes please 🫣

AGSJVL not dad Leon getting mad when reader correctly guesses he took her bikini 🤭 ugh I love mean Leon so much so I’m kinda with you on that 😉 loves to spank her if she gets out of line; like makes her take her panties off so he can spank her bare ass 🥴 doesn’t matter that you’re too old for it; he’s still your dad and it’s his house

Mean stepbro!! I’ve made him softer as I keep writing him 😅 he can’t help it, he just loves reader now 😝

But yes, he’s the kind of bully who definitely puts his hand down on the couch cushion before you sit so he’s groping your ass/pussy before you jump up. Laughs it off to your parents in the room saying it was a joke. Pinches your nipples as he passes by you, playing it off as trying to pinch your side 🫣

#ask box #💀 anon #lipglossanon #lipglossanswers #priest!leon #real dad!leon

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Going the Distance

On Jan 1st 2024 one Mickey Mouse steps out into a bright new future, while saying goodbye to a toxic past.

Mickey looked back at the building, the one which had tormented him for so long. Ever since Walts passing he'd been nothing but a tool to make money, a symbol of Greed and manipulation, vermin, a rat he had heard the terms and hated the company for leashing him so tightly, the one his father once loved and he had as well, but those days were now long behind them, he had had enough. Still he twisted his hat in his hands, as he faced forwards,

"Mick? That you?" He heard a voice behind, turning once more he spotted Goofy, his long time friend of so many years,

"Yeah it's me" as he fully faced the other, who had a fond look on his face, like he was seeing an old friend he hadn't seen in forever, he looked relieved,

The dog toon gave a knowing smile,crossing his arms playfully,

"Joining Ozzie and Julias in causing trouble for the Humans?"

The mouse laughed and nodded, pulling out a flag from his hammerspace,

"I hear there's a protest tonight on New Years, and I can finally join in. You know Dad wouldn't agree with what they're doing. He would want me out there fighting for what's right, not sitting back, let alone paying for the Genocide of all things." He tucked it carefully away, "I knew the company had fallen but that told me they were hopeless and I'm done Goofy, I will do what I need to as my contract states, but I'm praying for bankruptcy at this point. I wouldn't even care if I was sold to Warner, "

"Oh Mickey, I know," he knelt down drawing the other into a hug"I've known for a long time, when they began to have you only smilin on the screen, not allowin ya to be yerself, I knew it was only a matter of time however you stay safe, bein in the public domain like Julias an Oswald, rely on your brothers and especially Min until me and Don can join ya. Fight for us,"

The mouse stepped back as Pluto Donald and Daisy stepped out with Snow trailing behind,

"I will be right behind in 2029," Donald stated and the mouse gave him a smile

"I wouldn't expect any less," before Minnie came through to stand beside him.

Seeing her exactly like when they'd first met, it made the old love flair like never before, placing a kiss to her forehead making his wife laugh, he smiled

While Disney was now mostly behind them, he had the public now to carry his legacy, he had already secured a few projects from some brilliant freelancers and several fan groups had ideas as well, he felt more hopeful and excited then he had in years. As Minnie took the hat from his hand carefully and dutifully straightened it before placing it on his head,

"Ready my dear?" He asked holding his hand out

"Ready to keep moving forwards?"

He laughed at the reminder of his Dad's favorite quote and by heart he recalled it

"Around here however we don't look backwards for very long we keep opening up new doors looking for new ideas we keep moving forwards because we're curious and curiosity leads us down new roads, new ideas and opportunities."

She smiled brightly nodding as he hooked an arm through hers and the mouse pair walked towards their car, excited for what lay ahead,

#mickey mouse #minnie mouse #public domain #donald duck #daisy duck #snow white #drabble #keep moving forward #the future looks bright

[angeltreasure]

It’s almost to me, is a sword in my heart when I think of how I must wait three years or so to enter religious life. Some have said, even this Father, that why wait? It immediately brings me reeling back to when Jesus appeared to St. Faustina as He was on the day of His Passion asking how long would she keep Him waiting? They don’t understand that to get my name off the house I bought equally with my mom and step dad that my step dad had to come out of retirement to get a job again and has to have a work history of at least three years before we can refinance or just sell. How my heart hurts from that sword, the longing, it feels the same in my heart as Lent. I want to explain it but I know they won’t understand the whole story. There are some in my own family who don’t believe I can do this.

I get three or so years to get myself even deeper into my faith and to have the blessing of living with my parents as Jesus did. I have been given a sword to my heart for waiting… but the sword is also my blessing. That is why I must be ever more like Mary, and ponder all of these things in my heart…

But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be - Luke 1:29.

And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart - Luke 2:19.

He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; and His mother kept all these things in her heart - Luke 2:51.

….so please, pray for me. I need your prayers. My family needs prayers.

#thoughts

[shsl-fander]

Blood Stained

Pairing: Logince and Moceit

Tw: Blood, fighting, yelling, bruises, swearing, threats, bullying, homophobia, hospital, Whump Roman

Au: Family/High School

Summary: Roman won't just watch around and let Logan get harrassed by this jerk at their school, but it backfires when hes caught in a severe fight and must be driven to the hospital. @spacedouterri @lavenderfoxboy

"Okay, let me get this straight," Janus hissed, hands gripping tight on his wheel. He drummed his hands against the leather, glaring to his side towards Roman. "My son, gets himself into a fist fight and I have to drive him to the hospital and all he cares about is missing his REHEARSAL?!" He scolds in disbelief.

Roman tapped his cheek, blood staining his fingers as he did so. He tilted his head up in an attempt to sway the dark, red blood dripping from his nose. "I would have called Dad if I knew you'd take me on a guilt trip," he mumbled.

Janus scoffed, shaking his head, "Roman!" he yelled, "You're lucky I agreed to pick you up, Patton would be freaking out on you just as much, he'd just be gentler," he corrects, rolling his eyes. "Care to tell me what happened? Either of you,"he prompts, raising an eyebrow.

Remus tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth, grinning ear to ear, "I have no fucking clue what happened, for once I'm innocent!" He leans forward, sticking his head between the two front seats. "Roman?" Remus's smile quickly fades upon looking at Roman, who's usual was charm seemed completely drained. "...Ro bro?"

Roman's gaze fell towards the window, watching as they sped past the surrounding cars. A breeze followed their car. "Some asshole was bothering Logan," he muttered, barely audible above a whisper.

"What was that?" Janus blinked, taking a sharp turn onto the hospital's street. Silence lingered in the car, Janus tuning the music off, the only sound being the faint shuffling of the car's wheels against the ground.

Janus sighed softly, "I'm only strict on you because I don't want you to be like how I was at your age," he explained. "I was an amazing kid, smart but got in alot of trouble. I didn't really know how to protest in a good way."

Janus placed his hand over his son's, lips quirking to force a somber smile,"We just want you to be safe. Both of you, " he insists. He perked up as his ring tone blared from his phone, his muscled tensed scrunching his shoulders close together. He exhaled, "It's just your dad, Remus can you talk to him and explain whats happening?" he asks, rubbing his temples.

Just A few hours prior, Roman found himself leaned against his locker, humming softly to himself while he waited for Logan to come over. He knew Logan had a free period and frankly Roman did not feel like going to biology, so he'd agreed to meet up with him for at least a few minutes.

Roman blinked, glancing down towards the clock again with a raised eyebrow. "That's weird, nerd is never late."

He instinctly reached for his phone in his pocket, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

Roman: Hey Specs you coming? Or Did you decide to completely ditch me wowww I can't believe this. 😭😞

He snickered to himself as he typed, though he couldn't ignore the worry welling up inside him.

Minutes began to pass, the worry growing inside Roman the longer he stood in the halls, gazing around to find Logan. This was EXTREMELY out of character for Logan. While Roman found the insistence to keep a schedule for literally everything (even hallway roaming)quite annoying, he certainly didn't enjoy when Logan wasn't being himself. 

Suddenly, it felt as if time stood still, the silence lingering in surrounding air. It was quiet, an uncomfortable sense of quiet before a loud slam echoed through the halls. Roman felt his chest tighten, he jolted up, eyes growing wide. He bolted towards the direction of the noise, praying internally that Logan's sudden disappearance had nothing to do with this.

Roman froze infront of the door, gritting his teeth anxiously. "Come on Roman, you're a prince," he murmured under his breath. "You gotta find out whats going on."

He slowly creaked the door open ever so slightly,peering through the small crack. His breath hitched at the sight of the situation, exactly what he'd been dreading.

Logan was pressed up against the wall, his breathing heavy and quick paced. He gulped, swallowing the spit that was closing up his throat. "I mean what I said, you're a pathetic homophobe who can't even win a debate," he spat, "And your threats are only confirming your lack of intelligence."

The boy, who Roman couldn't seem to recognize at first, glared at Logan. He was grumbling something along the lines of killing him.

Roman pounced up, tossing the door open, thoughts spiralling around his head. Everything in his mind was so blurred, he knew whoever this kid was could probably beat the shit out of him, but he also knew he wanted to protect Logan more than anything else in the moment.

He rushed up behind him, tugging on his shirt an yanking him away from Logan. "Leave him alone," he growled. Once he was face to face with him, Roman was able to properly recognize him in under a second: Adam Dotson. His scraggy, short red hair along with piercing blue eyes were both easy to spot.

Adam cackled, "Oh look here! Your fairy boyfriend came along," he teased, shoving Roman backwards leaving him stumbling to catch himself. "The fuck are you doing here, Adelio?"

Roman narrowed his eyes,"Are you deaf? I said leave him alone, " he fumed, voice stern and low. He felt his heart pound against his chest, heart rate increasing rapidly. He stared ahead at Adam, watching him crack his knuckles and return his glare.

Adam rolled his eyes, kicking Roman in his shin, "You think I'm scared of you?" He scoffed, "Tell your gayass boytoy that he needs to fuck off on talking to me too," he retorted, watching Roman clasp onto his leg.

Roman gasped, foundering backwards once again. He inhaled, folding his hand into a fist and he swore his heart was beating so fast he could hear the thundering in his eardrums. Roman took a breath before stepping forward and swinging towards Adam, his knuckles grazed the side of his cheek.

Adam sucked in a breath, bracing against the impact of Roman's punch before swiftly punching him back, hitting him square in his nose.

A trail of blood trickled down Roman's face, and he winced squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. The pain shot through his entire face, burning against his nose.

"Roman!" Logan shrieked.

Roman spat out a chunk of blood, leaving his mouth with a copper tang taste. He ducked. Roman slammed his fist into Adam's stomach. His knuckles pulsed, yet he still kept hitting as much as he could.

Adam groaned, bending over with a heave. His vision began to blur, barely able to make out the tan arm lunging at him again. He stepped back, cracking his knuckles.

Roman lifted his hand to swing at Adam again before he felt a tight grip around his wrist. Hes swung to the side. Blood swishing around his ears. Roman inhales before pain stings against his face once again, spreading throughout his entire body. His head spun and before his senses regain control, he's slammed against the wall.

All Roman could grasp was the imense pain. His knees shook, wobbling underneath him. Another punch hitting him, faint yelling in the background. A swift knee to his stomach. He kicked at Adam in an attempt to push him away. The air around him felt scarce.

Roman rubbed his head, which was splitting with pain. He swallowed, taking another final swing at Adam before he stumbled back again. Roman blinked, the objects around him finally returning to sight.

"That all you got, Princey?" exasperated Adam, wiping the blood resting on his lips. He lunged forward, leaping towards him. He snarled, grabbing at him.

Roman reached forward to push Adam back. He held his arms up to frantically block his face from all of Adam's swings. He elbowed Adam in his side, the closest possible range without having to remove his defense. An ache in his arms, white hot with pain. An attempted punch towards Adam's face, eventually making contact with his shoulder instead.

The impact wouldn't stop, constant punches against his skin. Roman gasped for air, tensing all throughout his body. He grimaced, bracing for the impact of more burning sensations before Adam was suddenly flung off of him. Roman recoiled, bending over and trying not to throw up. The world around him began to spin, and he felt dizzier than he'd ever felt before. He collasped onto the floor, rest tugging at his eyelids. Blood splattered all over his face, bruises scattered on other parts of his body.

Logan frantically snatched Roman's bag as the teacher escorted Adam out of the room, scolding him as she did so. He searched through his emergency contacts before clicking one of Roman's dads' numbers, a complete gamble at whether he was calling Janus or Patton; though it really didn't matter. He just needed Roman to get help.

Logan ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. He'd never intended to put Roman in a situation of harm this intense. He slowly approaced his boyfriend, eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?" He asks gently, Roman's phone vibrating in his hands.

Roman swallowed, he opened his mouth to speak but a bit of blood began to spill out."I'm sorry Specs," he wheezed. He felt a bit of the tension in his muscles fade as Logan pressed his hands on his wounds.

Roman held a tissue against his nose, bandages now plastered over his knuckles, chin, and parts of his jaw. He felt a lump tighten in his throat, a puddle underneath his eyes. Everything hurt possibly even more now that that fight had finished, adrenaline worn off.

"Wheres my baby boy?!" Patton sobbed, rushing into hospital room where Roman sat, frowningly deeply. "Oh Roman," he huffed, kneeling beside his bed. He softly cuped Roman's face, face worn with worry. "How are you doing?"

A miserable laugh escaped Roman, "Well the doctor said I most likely broke my nose," he answers, "So a prince is thriving," he sulked. "I think I hurt my jaw too, and my arms are all bruised."

Patton rubbed his leg, what looked to be the only part of Roman's body that wasn't covered in bandages. "Your dad told me what happened, or at least what you told him about what happened," he sighed, "But you're gonna be okay, I know it! You're my strong prince, always have been." He insisted, though that was partially to calm his own anxieties. The moment Remus called him from the car while Janus drove Roman to the hospital, he felt sick to his stomach.

Normally, that alone would help ease Roman's worries but right now he just felt even worse. If he was actually a strong prince he'd be able to properly defend his boyfriend, instead of losing miserably against Adam fucking Dotson. But Roman loved his parents, and he especially didn't want Patton to feel worse. So, he cracked a smile,nodding along. "Thanks Dad, I love you."

Patton remained kneeled next to his bed, "I love you too Ro, we all do," he exhaled, "None of us want you getting in fights and hurting yourself."

Roman's smile faltered for a moment, a frown tugging at his lips. The lump in his throat tightened, his voice quivering as he spoke. He shook his head, desperately trying to hold back tears. "Is Logan here?" he asks, he really wanted to talk to him now that he wasn't being punched in the face.

Patton glanced towards the door, "Yeah, yeah he's here kiddo. He drove himself here when he found out you were sent in," he confirms, his voice light and soft.

Roman gaze followed Patton's towards the door, where he could see through the window Remus, Janus, and Logan seated right outside,waiting. "Can you ask him to come in? I royally need to talk to him," he requests, rubbing the bandage sat on his chin.

Patton placed a kiss onto Roman's forehead, gently patting his head."Of course, I think I need to help your dad fill out paperwork anyway, " he watched Roman fidget with his bandages or press his hands against his wounds and he swore his heart shattered.

Logan slowly trotted into the room, creaking Roman's door open and gently closing it behind him. His eyes widened, darting to all of the bandages scattered around Roman, and if his body wasn't damaged it was likely covered by a dark, growing bruise.

Logan sighed softly, approaching him with caution. He cleared his throat, "Hi," he greets shyly.

Roman couldn't help but laugh, chuckling under his breath, "Greetings, Specs," he replies, setting the tissue down for a moment. Luckily the bleeding on his nose had begun to subside, but it was still broken. "Listen I'm sorry, I should have been able to protect you better than I did. I mean I'm your boyfriend and not only that but I hold myself like some sort of prince but I can't even win a fight," he rambled on, tears slowly began to fall as he spoke.

Roman sniffled, frantically shaking his head and wiping his eyes. They wouldn't subside though, streaming down his cheeks.

Logan's frown deepened, he grabbed Logan's hands, rubbing his thumb against Roman's hands. "Roman please," he reaches over with his free hand to wipe his tears. He shook his head, "Don't apologize, frankly I feel physical violence to be a rather immature and arrogant solution to conflict anyways," he began. Logan huffed, "Though you tend to he rather immature and arrogant at times so I suppose your disappointment makes sense," he admitted, gently moving his hand up to card through his hair.

"My point is, you didn't have to do that for me, and even though I know why you did, I'm not remotely upset you lost the fight," he assures the other. "I'm just upset that you got in a fight in the first place." Logan watched as Roman shifted uncomfortably.

"Not upset at you," Logan quickly clarified, "upset at the situation," the hand that still had Roman's placed inside it squeezed his hand, while the other was running his fingers through his hair. "I love you."

Roman swallowed, attempting to blink away his tears. "Not as much as I love you, Nerd," he cooes softly. "It's why I did this in the first place," he explained, "I couldn't just sit around and watch him do that to you! Thats like Flynn Ryder just watching mother gothel hurt Rapunzel!"

Logan snorted, shaking his head, "I am nothing like Rapunzel, Roman," he corrects, rolling his eyes.

Roman groaned, rubbing his temples, "Oh MY GOD Logan, you're gonna hurt my head more than Adam did," he exclaimed in disbelief, paired with a dramatic sigh. "You're so literal. It was a metphor, Einstein." Roman felt a smile tug on his lips, watching as Logan pursed his lips, fighting a soft giggle.

"What'd you even say to Adam anyway?" Roman asked after their laughter calmed. "Bruise his masculinity?"

Logan felt his face flush in embarrassment, "Well he was debating with his friend about the morality of gay people, saying it was gross and a sin," he exhaled in exasperation, "Or really just being homophobic in general, so I corrected him because things he was saying was genuinely incorrect and he started getting all defensive and so I told him he was a pathetic piece of shit," he admits, watching Roman's jaw drop.

"He then began to argue with me and I told him he was being a moron since he couldn't grasp basic concepts of sexual and romantic attraction. "

"Oh my stars Specs, that somehow made you even hotter. "

#sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #wump #Wump roman #fanfic #fanfiction #Logince #logince fanfiction #logince fanfic #tss #ts #ts roman #ts logan #ts logince #fight #violence cw #moceit #janus sanders #patton sanders #whump #whump scenario #whump roman #whumpee

[depressopax]

From ABQ with love, Nacho

Chapter 1

This is the first chapter of my LCDP x BCS AU/Nacho spin-off. More info can be found here! || AO3 link

Chapter summary: After being saved by "The fancy son of a bitch", his travel from Albuquerque, to an unknown destination begins. But who is the man really? Why did he save Nacho? And where are they headed? Words: 1.8k TW: Drugs/drugging, cuss words, blood [Might be a bit OOC, bare with me] English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3

I don’t know where he’s taking me, the man who introduced himself as “Berlin” - But I choose to remain to calling him “The fancy son of a bitch”

But I don’t dare to ask him. Whether I like it or not - He saved my ass. 

So when he threatens to kill me if I try escaping, when he drugs me into obedience, when he drives me through the country, and when we sit down at the airport and then on the plane - I don’t make a sound. 

Plane I haven’t been on a plane since I was a kid. 

Me and dad only went on trips a couple of times. 

We didn’t grow up poor - and my childhood was happy. 

My dad was a single parent and had his own company, so it was up to him to make sure his son was well fed. 

He did a good job, my dad. But I had the tendency to get myself into trouble.

It was a combination of the adrenaline junkie within me, the people I made friends with, and the economical situation me and dad had. 

It started with Domingo and Tuco - and escalated into the Salamancas and the cartel. 

Dad is an honorable man. In the fog of my mind, I see his face. I remember us on that airplane once, when I went on my first vacation. I was so excited, and he smiled at me. 

It hurts. It fucking hurts. 

He probably thinks I’m dead. In some ways, I am indeed dead. 

Did Mike keep his promise? Is my dad safe? 

I’m not religious but still I pray to all Gods possible that he gets out safely. 

I hate myself for putting him in danger. I hate myself for my choices. 

And I hate the fancy son of a bitch next to me. 

We fly first class. 

He’s a rich fuck, too. He looks unfazed, where he sits reading a book and drinking what I can only guess is alcohol. 

Drinking in the light of the day, on a plane? Seriously? 

The rich son of a bitch who calls himself “Berlin” looks at me. I must have been staring. If looks could kill, he’d drop dead now. 

“I would offer you a scotch, but you’re high.” he chuckles and I grunt in reply. I turn my head to not see his smug face. My situation is confusing and humiliating enough. He continues talking to me, but I’m not listening. 

Somehow, he reminds me of Lalo.

The way he talks, his confidence and that sick, twisted personality. They’d make good friends. I manage to laugh and surprise both him and myself. 

“Where… We headed…” I manage to spit out. Literally tho. I don’t know what kind of drugs I’m on, but it's difficult to open and close my mouth. I’m probably drooling. And he probably finds joy in seeing people like that. 

“Spain. But to which town I can’t let you know.” 

Spain… 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m ordered to bring you there. A friend of mine has an offer for you. And you’re a damn stupid brat if you don’t agree. Besides, this little trip cost me a fortune. Imagine all the fancy wines I could’ve brought, instead of picking up some depressed, bald cartel man.” 

Suddenly I’m happy to be drugged. The fancy son of a bitch should be too. I’d slap his smug face bloody if I could. 

I don’t give a fuck that he “saved” me. I don’t care if we’re on a plane. I’d ruin him. 

“Fuck you.” I whisper.

He glances at me, up and down. I must look ridiculous with sweaty, dirty clothes, wounds and bruises on my face. That, with the dark circles marking my dark eyes, combined with how affected I must look from the drugs, with half open mouth and eyes. He definitely notices, because his next words are:

“I have no idea what the Professor saw in you.” 

The Professor? I choke back a laugh. Berlin. The professor. What the fuck is this? 

“You should’ve let me die.” 

Silence.

“Yes. Yes I should have, huh?” He puts the book down and stares blankly at me. “I’ll get some sleep. Ima have to drug you again, so you don’t try suffocating me with a pillow.” 

“Yea. Because I’d definitely try to escape when we’re on a damn plane.” My voice is coated with sarcasm and the fancy son of a bitch laughs. When he hands me a pill, I don’t have the energy, nor willpower to disagree. I swallow it down with water and soon my brain is fogged up again and I enter a world of dreams. 

I remember my dad’s worry. I had just joined the cartel and for the first time in my life, I was beaten bloody. My face was swollen and I was limping when I sunk down outside his door. 

“Hijo?” a tired voice said. His face twisted to concern, to anger and then fright. Having to explain what had happened to him was not easy. His worry was not the worst. It was the disappointment in his eyes. 

“Sorry.” I mumbled. “I got this under control, ok?”

What a lie. 

The next day is the same: Airplanes and cars - in the company of what I’m now sure is a sociopath. He talks to me as if we were friends. He mocks me like he hates me, and he asks me questions like he was a cop and I was a suspect. I can’t figure him out. At all. 

When we finally arrive at an old house in the dead of night, I’m finally free from those damn pills, and I get to eat some real food. I even get my own room. That night, I slept like I’ve never slept before. 

The wardrobe in “my room” has some simple t-shirts and jeans, a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie, and even some work-out clothes. 

I should feel relieved but I’m anxious. It feels like danger creeps over me. Is this some sort of sick joke? Is “Berlin” part of the cartel too? I don’t know. At least the door to the room is open. The house is dark and dusty. If someone actually lives here, they must be a disruptive person. I walk the house mindlessly. I find a kitchen, dining room, bathrooms and like 8 more bedrooms. There’s even an attic.

Curiosity takes over and I climb the stairs up. 

I walk into… A classroom…?

Yes. A classroom. 

A blackboard, a desk with pens and papers… A line of small tables and chairs, exactly like the ones I used to sit by when I was young and in school. 

One word is written with white chalk on the board: ¡Bienvenido! It says. 

“Hello.” I flinch and by instinct reach for the gun I don't carry anymore. 

Not because this man looks like a threat either ways. 

The thin, bearded man seems to be my age, with dark, thick glasses, wavy hair and a dark suit. Everything he’s wearing is dark. As dark as the house. He doesn’t look like a snob. The suit looks as old and vintage as the interior of the house. Must be he who owns the residence. He almost looks like a…

“Professor.” I mumble. The man smiles and looks nervous.

“That’s right. You may call me ‘The Professor’”

No thank you. Is what I don’t say. I just stare at him, as if he just told me a joke that wasn’t funny. 

“Ignacio…” he sighs and pulls out a chair. He takes a seat and looks at me. I should hate him. But I can't. Not yet, either ways. “...I’m sorry about your trip here. Berlin can be… Intense.”

“He’s a sociopath.” I correct him with a hiss. 

“...Whatever you want to call him. Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Varga?” 

Mr. Varga. I’m starting to think this man is older than he seems.

“No.” 

“It’s because I have a plan. And I need you for it to work.”

“What? You needed to bring me all the way from Albuquerque and to… Wherever the hell we are, for it?”  

“In Toledo. And yes. I needed to.”

“How’d you find me? And why?” I start to feel annoyed, but mostly because I’m so calm. I’ve totally lost my mind. I shouldn’t even hear this man out. Still, I want to. I need to understand my own situation. 

“You were in a dark place, Ignacio. But in the darkness there's light. There’s this man that told me about you. He told me about your situation, about your skills and past. You’re a great asset to my team.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“To me it does!” 

The Professor starts looking annoyed now too. 

“Can I please talk?” The way he’s talking makes me feel like a kid. It’s like getting lectured and I hate it. So I sigh and seal my lips.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” he adjusts the thick glasses. “Like I was saying; You’re a great asset to my team. You have been in the cartel, you know how to handle weapons and I’m guessing you’re good when it comes to money?”

“What the fuck is this?” I stand up. I’m starting to lose my patience with this shit, hell, I lost it the second I got here. 

I walk up to him, threatingly. It seems to work. Of course.

“Manuel Varga. He’s alive and well.” 

I want to kill him for talking about my father. But I also want to cry and thank him for saving my father. 

“How do you…” 

“I promise to hand you proof of his safety, if you promise to hear me out.” 

The Professor sounds stern. Yea. His nickname definitely makes sense now. I sit down again. Finally, the bearded man starts talking.

“This week, you’ll meet your new crew of eight other criminals. You - and Berlin, are the first to arrive. These people shall be your new “family”. You’ll eat together, live together and get to know each other - build up trust and grow strong - together.” 

He goes quiet. 

“Okay…?” I say, my eyebrows furrowing. 

“And then… In five months from now… We’ll rob the Royal Mint of Spain.” 

I’m startled. Shocked. Then I laugh. This is a sick joke. Of course. My laughter dies out. The man stares blankly at me. Oh God. He’s being serious. 

“...That’s impossible.”

“Difficult, yes. But not impossible, Ignacio.” 

We stare each other down. After a while, I shake my head.

“How?” 

He smiles at me. A cocky smile, this time. For the first time, I actually see more in him - besides a four-eyed lunatic. Maybe, just maybe…

“I have a plan.”

#fanfic writing #aspiring author #writeblr #aspiring writer #original fanfiction #breaking bad #brbabcs #la casa de papel #Nacho spinoff #lcdp x bcs au #fanfiction writer #fanfic authors #better call saul #nacho #nacho varga #ignacio varga #better call saul fanfic #breaking bad fanfic #breaking bad fanfiction #la casa de papel fanfiction #lcdp fanfiction #ignacio nacho varga #nacho varga fanfiction #better call saul spinoff #crossover #au #fanfic writers #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #writer

[bluepeachstudios]

So apparently there was a problem with the ficlet post (my guess is it has something to do with me copy-pasting from google docs?) so I'm gonna repost it.

I wanna preface this by saying I went a little ham while still trying to keep it short because this is an ask but here have this bASICALLY A FICLET???

----

Shoyo clutched Hiwako against his chest, keeping as quiet as possible despite his pounding heart and rapid breaths. He was used to his parents and uncles getting involved in fights, though they would usually send someone away with the two of them. This time was different, though. This time he was told to take Hiwako and hide as best he could.

It hadn’t been good enough, because now they were sitting in a burlap sack, and Shoyo’s screams hadn’t been heard over the shouts and gunfire. The fight had faded away a long time ago. Shoyo tried to remember everything he could hear, everything he noticed, but god was he terrified. He’d never been separated from his family like this before.

He prayed to the gods, to his family, that they would find him and his sister quickly.

They were dumped out of the sack unceremoniously and into bright lights. Shoyo curled around his baby sister and hit the ground with a grunt, tail twitching in irritation. He sat up, and faced down the largest man he’d ever seen sitting behind a desk.

“What is this?” Hun asked his subordinate. “Rabbit freaks?”

“They were with the turtles,” The other man said. “And that rabbit guy.”

Hun considered this. He got up from his desk and picked up Shoyo by the scruff, shaking Hiwako loose from his arms. She was still small enough for Hun to hold her in the palm of his hand without trouble.

“How do you know the turtles?” Hun asked Shoyo.

Shoyo kicked out fiercely, the way Uncle Raph had shown him, claws extended, and the scar on Hun’s face had a matching set on the opposite cheek. Hun threw him down and Shoyo bounced with a yelp.

“Get me a dog kennel,” Hun snarled, looking down at Shoyo and Hiwako with a sneer. “Now.”

“Yes sir.”

“My dads are gonna come and defeat you,” Shoyo said, puffing his chest out as bravely as he could manage. “They’re gonna come and get us and stop you!”

Hun blinked slowly, hand lowering. He looked at Shoyo and then Hiwako.

“Dads?” He asked, paling.

“Yeah!” Shoyo got to his feet and reached towards Hiwako.

Hun, in his stunned state, merely lowered her for Shoyo to take into his arms again. “Uh… Who’s your dads?”

“Leonardo and Usagi Miyamoto!” Shoyo said proudly.

Hun scowled and turned to his desk, snatching up the phone and hitting the speed dial. “Lock down the building,” He said, voice an octave higher than usual. “We’re about to get hit by something big.”

The moment the turtles figured out that Shoyo and Hiwako were missing, the family became an unstoppable force. Raph and Mikey snatched up the leader of the group of Purple Dragons they’d come across and tied him down, making the perfect interrogation team with Raph’s brutality and Mikey’s nonchalance.

Donnie activated the little tracking chips in the bracelets he’d gifted both of the kids recently. They notified Splinter what was going on and he arrived on the surface not minutes later, along with Casey and April. Angel was babysitting Melany.

Once they figured out where the kids were, the same force that had defeated an alien warmonger and an ancient demon headed towards the Purple Dragon’s headquarters with the ferocity of an incoming hurricane.

Donnie didn’t bother with the doors; he crashed the battle shell straight through them, barrelling through the wall. Donnie set the battle shell to keep causing commotion while they made their way through Purple Dragons to the top floor of the building.

Hun paced anxiously in his office, scowling as he heard the sounds of fighting getting closer and closer, more of his people calling in to say monsters had arrived and the Dragons were dropping like flies.

He spun to look towards the couch, which Shoyo had scrambled under with Hiwako. The only sign they were there was the occasional sneeze from all the dust and Hiwako’s little voice asking where daddy and papa were, getting more distressed with each ‘they’re coming’.

Shoyo, to his credit, was doing his best to keep her quiet. He hummed the same lullaby Usagi sang them to sleep with.

Hun lifted up the couch and Shoyo hissed; a habit he’d picked up from the turtle side of his family. Hun ignored him, reaching out to grab him, but Shoyo kicked again, claws biting skin, and Hun cussed before snatching them both up in his fist.

“Keep still, brat,” Hun snarled. “Or I’ll squish you both.”

Shoyo begrudgingly fell still, clutching Hiwako to his chest. He could hear fighting, familiar sounds that he knew were his family coming for him. Hun didn’t stand a chance.

Leo busted down the door like a battering ram, breaking the door before the lock snapped. Though Hun did his best to appear calm and confident about the situation, he had never seen the turtle look so furious before.

Hun didn’t have time to get a word out before Usagi streaked past Leo and nearly cut Hun’s arm off. Hun dropped the kids just before the sword hit, and Usagi’s direction changed to catch them against his chest, rolling with them tucked close. Leo leapt over him, Raph at his side as they both attacked.

Hun found himself hanging from the window ledge by the tips of his fingers, eyes huge as he stared up at two white-eyed turtles with murderous intent on their faces.

“Daddy!” Shoyo called for Leo, and Leo’s expression softened. He turned away from the window, leaving only Raph glaring down at him.

Raph crouched down and stabbed a sai right between Hun’s fingers.

“You mess with those kids again,” Raph growled. “And I’ll hunt you down personally, Hun. You got that?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hun nodded rapidly, eyeing the sai less than a half inch from his lifeline.

“I suggest you stay there until we leave. I don’t know what I’ll do if I see your stupid face,” Raph stood, pulling his sai away and turning back to the family reunion.

Usagi passed Shoyo to Leo once he’d checked them both over for injuries, and Leo folded his son in his arms, pressing kisses to his head. Shoyo nuzzled close, tucking himself under Leo’s chin comfortably. The family surrounded Leo and Usagi, giving little back rubs and petting ears comfortingly, everyone relieved.

“Thank the gods you’re safe,” Usagi breathed, nosing the top of Hiwako’s head.

“Papa,” She giggled, hugging his head.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Shoyo whimpered. “I didn’t hide good enough.”

“You did great, Shoyo,” Leo told him. “Wonderful.”

“I told him you’d come,” Shoyo said triumphantly despite the tears of relief in his eyes.

“You were so brave,” Leo praised, squeezing him gently. “You’re safe now.”

“I know,” Shoyo mumbled, nuzzling closer. “That was scary.”

“Yeah,” Mikey grinned. “But you handled it like a champ! You’ll take my Battle Nexus Championship from me in no time!”

“You’re safe now,” Usagi reassured Shoyo, leaning over to nuzzle their noses together.

“We should get out of here,” Donnie pointed out. “More Purple Dragons are bound to be on the way.”

“Yeah, we’re already leaving Hun hanging,” Mikey joked, jerking a thumb towards the window.

Casey groaned and April giggled, Raph giving Mikey an affectionate smack on the head. Shoyo relaxed as Usagi passed Hiwako to Leo, taking his sister up into his arms to snuggle her safely as Leo did the both of them.

The family formed a rank around Leo, Usagi remaining just in front of him while the others cleared a path for their exit. Leo kept Shoyo and Hiwako’s eyes turned inwards, towards his plastron. He hummed a lullaby as they fought their way out, back to the battle shell.

Hiwako was asleep by the time they got home. A turtle pile formed in the living room, with blankets and pillows to fill in the gaps. Hiwako and Shoyo rested on Leo’s chest, the others surrounding him, burying both kids in a mountain of family.

“This can never happen again,” Usagi whispered.

“It won’t,” Leo agreed, giving him a kiss.

----

If I was going to do a whole fic on this, I'd probably use Jei, honestly. There's one issue in Usagi Yojimbo where Jei kidnaps Jotaro (Usagi's son) to lure Usagi to him. It'd be interesting to do it with '03 Usagi, since he's. Y'know. Too young to have a kid so this has never happened before. fhgdkjfg

Hopefully reposting this fixed it!

#asks #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #Usagi Yojimbo #LeoSagi #Miyamoto Usagi #tmnt Leonardo #ame writes #TTATH