#people kept getting him wrong in my notes the other day can you tell it annoyed me

[youngpettyqueen]

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

For DS9 <3

cracks my knuckles

alright so ive kinda covered the infantilization of Julian Bashir in my last answer and this is somewhat related because when people do this with him they also tend to make him out to be a lot more insecure than he is in canon, and in relation to that they also make him a total doormat who just lets people walk all over him which is. absolutely not what he's like. at all

Julian does have some degree of self-loathing and imposter syndrome but I think its vitally important to understand this as his anger and loathing being directed towards what was done to him. its not as simple as him hating himself- he hates what was done to him, so while there is a degree of self-loathing, that anger is also directed outwards at his parents and every doctor who had a part in augmenting him

I think takes where Julian is deeply insecure about being, like, really talkative are just incorrect. I dont read that from him at all. Julian is very unapologetically and loudly himself and he doesnt apologize for any of it. his confidence in himself is one of his defining character traits. ive seen takes that all of that is a front and I just dont agree with those takes. I agree that he has some degree of insecurity and that is related to his augmentations and some imposter syndrome based on that, but when it comes to things like how much he talks, his difficulties with reading social cues, I dont think he's particularly insecure. again, this is in relation to the very popular headcanon that Julian is autistic, and people take the traits he has that are common autistic traits, and make him insecure about them, and that tends to lead straight into takes I see where people make him out to be a doormat who cant stand up for himself

I genuinely have no idea where the fanon version of Julian that is incapable of sticking up for himself comes from. ive seen it in some fics, and in some headcanons, and it makes me wonder if we watched the same show. I dont think Julian cares all that much about jokes made at his expense about how chatty he is or how childish he can be. the one time I can think of that we see him get even slightly upset by jokes of that nature is when everyone is ganging up on him for his holosuite programs, and even then, he's not insecure about it he's annoyed cause he's being ganged up on by multiple people. Miles makes a lot of jokes at his expense and thats their general banter- Julian gives it back as good as he gets. same with Garak. ive seen people act like Miles telling Julian the Changeling was better was a horrible heartless thing and sure, it wasn't a great thing to say, but thats just. how they talk to each other. the cornerstone of their dynamic is them ribbing each other. same with how Miles and especially Garak will joke about Julian's augmentations- ive seen people act like this is horrible on their ends, while I read it as its their way of normalizing it for Julian and showing their acceptance of it. and if Julian really didnt like it, he would say something. he's not shy!

idk I feel like some of that might come from The Wire in how Julian sits back and takes Garak's yelling at him and attacking him, but to me thats just Julian being really good at handling a crisis situation. as someone who deals with crisis situations as part of my job, what Julian is doing is just trying to de-escalate the situation. he's keeping himself very neutral and letting Garak rant- if he were to snap back in that moment, it would only escalate things further, which he was trying to avoid. this is exactly what youre supposed to do when faced with someone in crisis. its also worth mentioning that Garak was going through agonizing withdrawals, so I doubt Julian was taking anything Garak was saying to heart. he responds to him like he's taking him seriously, for the purpose of de-escalating the situation and trying to calm Garak down. thats not an indication that Julian is incapable of standing up for himself and will just let himself be walked over, but rather that he just. knows how to handle a crisis

the infantilized oh-so-innocent deeply insecure eternally bullied Julian Bashir that I see exist in some fanon circles is just. so bizarre to me. it takes so much of nuance away from his character and im not sure what for? ive seen it used in some fics to bolster Garak up as this protector for him and im not a fan of twisting their dynamic to be like that, it takes a lot of the intricacies of their dynamic away in favour of loading them up with tropes. I think people forget that Julian very successfully kept his augmentations hidden for over half his life and would've continued to keep them hidden if his parents hadn't fucked it all up. I also think people forget that Julian is perfectly capable of and WILL stick up for himself, and that a lot of his anger at his situation is directed outward. turning him into this weird version of himself that is very woe-is-me just does nothing for me and is very divorced from how he actually is. he's snappy and rude as hell when he wants to be, he's not taking shit lying down, doesnt matter who it comes from

also a smaller thing but it annoys me every time cause I get it in notes on my posts. when people say Julian's self-sacrificing tendencies come from his need to be useful I wanna whack them with a rolled up newspaper. its because he wants to SAVE PEOPLE it is explicitly about SAVING PEOPLE he isnt trying to die to be useful his goal when he runs through fire is to help and to save because he is, at his core, a doctor and a healer!! its about the preservation of life and doing everything he can!! its not about this weird complex fanon gives him where he needs to be useful or die trying to justify his existence or whatever I dont read that at all from him. he's just that determined to save lives

hope you enjoyed this ramble I have many thoughts and feelings on this

[snowballseal]

Tipsy Tricks

Sylus X Reader

Summary: You and Sylus agree to focus on work for a little bit, meaning you don't have time to see each other. That is...until you get a panicked call from the twins saying their boss is drunk and needs someone to cuddle with.

Word Count: 1836

Note: FLUFF - Sylus is drunk, but honestly, I feel like he can handle his alcohol well so he does a bit of acting. It's all just to get your attention and he's a little more clingy. Also, Luke and Kieran my beloveds.

---

“Miss, we need your help!”

You blink at the sudden shout that comes through your phone the moment you answer it.

“Luke?”

“Please Miss! Boss is not acting himself!”

“Kieran? Wait- hold on, just-”

“Ah! We’re too late!”

“Please Miss, come save us!”

You blink again as the call ends just as abruptly.

What the-?

You stare at the now dark screen for a long moment, just trying to process what happened. It’s late, late enough that you’re already dressed in your pajamas and winding down in bed. The last thing you were expecting was to get such a panicked call from Luke and Kieran.

What were they even talking about? Why do they need saving? Is something wrong with Sylus?

The thought wedges into your chest like a thorn, sharp and uncomfortable. You hadn’t heard from the Onychinus leader - your lover - in a few days due to his busy schedule. Neither of you liked it, but you agreed it was best he just focus on work, and you’d do the same to keep yourself occupied.

Getting a call like this only makes your anxiety skyrocket.

You don’t even bother wasting the time to change, throwing a coat over your pajamas and snatching your keys as you hurdle out the door. 

---

“Miss!!! Oh you’ve come to save us, thank you!”

Luke and Kieran throw the door open before your knuckles even touch it. You jump back, chest heaving from having run all the way from the transport station. They look just as frazzled, well, as frazzled as two men in masks can look. 

“What’s wrong? Is Sylus okay? Why are you guys freaking out?” You shoot out questions quickly, grabbing one of the twins by the shoulders. “You guys were infuriatingly cryptic over the phone! Seriously, who calls in the middle of the night like that?”

“We’re sorry,” Luke leans in, trying to rescue his brother from your vicious grip, “We just didn’t know what to do. Boss hardly ever gets like this!”

“He kept talking about you so we figured you could help us,” Kieran insists, ducking away with the help of his brother.

“Okay, but what’s wrong? Is he hurt?” You press for more details, concern only growing. “What happened to make him act weird?”

“He’s drunk.”

…

Your jaw shuts with an audible click, going tense as you stare at them incredulously. Seriously? All of this, all of the panic, the urgency, because Sylus got drunk? You take a deep, slow breath, trying to ease the immediate desire to knock their heads together.

“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you called me. In the middle of the night. After I had settled down for bed. Screaming bloody murder over the phone. Because Sylus had too much to drink?”

“...yes.”

“That’s right.”

You close your eyes. Another deep breath. Slowly, the panic that had washed over you recedes, leaving a sliver of irritation and amusement. You really should expect nothing less from them.

“Okay,” you sigh and prop your hands on your hips. The two seem to relax, like they had actually expected you to smack them. Which you might have, if they hadn’t sounded truly distressed earlier. “So why is this such a bad thing? Sylus is an adult, he can handle being a little drunk, but you two are acting like the world is ending. Why?”

“Well you see-”

“Boss gets incredibly physical when he’s drunk-”

“Not in a violent way-”

“Unless he’s around people he doesn’t like.”

“Right.”

You blink slowly at them, “...so?”

“It’s scary!” Kieran crows.

“It’s like having a kodiak bear trying to give you a hug!” Luke adds, curling his fingers in a gesture you’re sure is meant to mimic said bear.

“We love the boss, but we can’t handle him like this.”

“And he kept asking for you! So we called.”

Ah.

You take a moment to really process all of it. Sylus is drunk. Sylus is a touchy drunk…

It’s too good to pass up on

“Alright, boys,” you hum, an excited grin slowly spreading across your lips. You clap both of them gently on the shoulder. “I’ll take it from here. You can go hide wherever you usually do.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“We knew calling you was the right decision. Please take care of our boss.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The twins skitter off as soon as you let them go, leaving you alone in the foyer. You quietly slip your coat off, hanging it up properly before making your way further into the base. Not knowing exactly where Sylus could be, you check all the obvious places. The bar. His bedroom. The kitchen. All of which are empty.

Finally you come to the den. Each step makes your heart race a little quicker, the thick silence putting you on edge. A drunk person shouldn’t be so hard to find. But as you step into the room, looking over every nook and cranny (despite how large the man in question is), you once again find it empty.

Where on earth could he be?

“My, my, a kitten’s wandered into my home.” You nearly jump out of your skin when an arm curls around your waist, drawing you back against a solid chest. The familiar warmth of his touch is like a balm to your nerves. You glance over your shoulder, gaze meeting a pair of sleepy vermillion eyes, their depths hazy and dark. “You broke our agreement, sweetie.”

You bite back a smile, “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to if a certain someone hadn’t gotten tipsy and scared the boys.”

Sylus huffs, his face dipping to nuzzle into the crook of your neck in an uncharacteristically soft show of affection. His breath is dizzyingly warm against your skin, his nose tracing featherlight along the column of your throat, like he’s breathing you in. It makes you feel dizzy. You clutch onto his arm to anchor yourself, breath hitching when his lips press tenderly against your racing pulse. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

The words are a mere whisper, the sound rumbling through his chest, so deep you can feel it with how his body leans into yours. You let out a shuddering breath, eyes flickering shut.

“I missed you too, Sy.”

So much. You didn’t want to admit to yourself just how much his absence had been wearing you down. Little by little until you could feel the gaping emptiness, like a stream carving a canyon. You were homesick. And it makes your heart flutter to know he felt the same.

“How about we sit, huh?” You suggest softly, and his arms tighten. Turning your head, despite the awkward angle, you press a reassuring kiss to his silvery locks, “I’m not going anywhere, love. I can’t support your weight much longer, though.”

Seemingly appeased, Sylus lets out an understanding hum. In a puff of black smoke, you find yourself settled on the couch, your back pressed into the soft leather with Sylus laying on top of you, his arms still curled around your waist, head resting on your chest. He nuzzles into you like a cat, letting out a long, drawn out sigh.

It’s adorable really. And jarring. While Sylus has never shied away from being affectionate, it’s always been in his rough, teasing way. This feels tender. Vulnerable. While you were originally planning to tease him to no end, you find yourself overwhelmed with a gentle kind of adoration for the man, your fingers softly fussing with his hair.

“You know, I think I like this side of you.”

“Hmmm, is that so?” Sylus mumbles sleepily, his eyes barely open as he gazes up at your face.

“Yah,” you breathe, tracing the relaxed line of his brow, fingers skimming down his cheek to brush the corner of his lips, “You’re acting so cute and docile. Maybe I should start calling you kitten.”

Even sleepy Sylus won’t let that stand. The second your fingers graze his lips, he nips at them, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you snatch them back, inhaling sharply. Heat curls in your chest, matching the heat burning behind his gaze as he flashes you that lazy yet dangerous smile.

“Don’t mistake my affection for passivity, sweetie,” he rumbles, pushing himself up just enough to graze his lips against yours, the smell of expensive alcohol and his rich cologne clouding your senses. “You should be more wary of a man when his restraints are loose. There’s no telling what he might do once you fall for his trap.”

Ah. You hold back a giggle, eyes narrowing up at him with mirth. So that’s what this was all about.

“Trap, huh? Is that what this was? Did you get tipsy and scare the twins on purpose so they’d call me?”

Sylus doesn’t look ashamed for even a second, offering a nonchalant shrug. The way his ears go red, though, tells you that you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Aw, you did all that just cause you missed me?” Reaching up, you loop your arms around Sylus’ shoulders and draw him even closer. Your lips brush his as you murmur, “You could have just called, pretty bird.”

“And what fun would that be?” Sylus tilts his head, eyes flickering down to your lips. 

He wants to kiss you breathless, the sensation of your lips ghosting against his driving his already muddled thoughts wild. The way you look under him, hair a mess, dressed in such cute pajamas, is a perfectly tempting image, but it’s the fact that he can’t quite think straight that makes him hold back. While getting drunk was certainly a good way to get you here, it was not conducive to anything else he might want.

And simply having you by his side is enough.

You sigh as Sylus presses a sweet kiss to your lips. Unlike most of your kisses, this one isn’t about passion or hunger. Intense, yes, but intense in a way that feels like devotion. It’s reverent and slow, leaving a lingering hum under your skin as he draws away.

“Will you stay?”

Fondly, you rub your nose against his ever so slightly, “Of course.”

“Good.”

Sylus lowers himself back into you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Your arms loop around him, fingers going back to his hair. The silence that envelops you is comforting, the only sound being that of your mingled breath. His warmth covers you so completely, you can’t help but relax, eyelids growing heavier with each second that ticks by. Sylus’ breathing steadily grows deeper, lulling you further and further into sleep. Until you slip under, your lips pressed to his temple as you fall asleep.

And that’s how Luke and Kieran find you the next morning. Cuddled up, with their boss curled around you protectively, like two lounging cats.

You wake up to a notification on your phone.

The picture immediately becomes your new background.

(And secretly, Sylus also makes it his, too.)

---

Hope you enjoyed, my lovely fishies!!!

[whoreforsexymen]

The VIP Booth | Vander Smut Oneshot 🫗🤎

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairings: Husband!Vander x Wife!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked! 🤺

Word Count: 3.1k (whoops. got carried away with storybuilding)

Tags: Cunnilingus, Fingering, Face Fucking, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Established Relationship, etc.

Summary: You coax your husband into eating you out in the only private area The Last Drop has to offer.

Notes: AAAA!! Idk if this idea is ANY GOOD but it came to me in a moment of delusion. The last bit was probably a little rushed, too. SORRYYYY. I’ll make it up to yall later.

Also, tell me I’m wrong when I say that Vander will go to any length to eat some pussy. Do it, cowards. I dare you. YOU KNOW JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT THIS MAN WOULD HAPPILY DIE WITH HIS FACE IN BETWEEN A PAIR OF THIGHS.

Asks/Request fics are coming soon, as well as a few more special treats for y’all!! Enjoy, my lovelies, & stay tuned. 🤍

(I can see you, minors!! Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)

Inside the walls of The Last Drop, there was one booth unlike any other—a private, exclusive spot tucked away behind the bustling central room. It was a booth reserved for those willing to pay for top-tier service, offering a secluded escape from the usual chaos of the bar’s environment. But as co-owner of The Last Drop—and wife to the main owner—you didn’t need to fork out any cash to reserve it. Especially not on a night like this. No—tonight, luck was on your side. The booth had gone unclaimed by any paying customer.

Truthfully, the undeniably significant feature were its curtains. The enormous maroon tapestries that enveloped the entrance ensured complete privacy, shielding it from prying eyes. After all, that’s what made it the VIP booth—an oasis of solitude amidst the drunken chaos of the crowd.

With the booth left unreserved, its privacy ensuring a rare moment of seclusion, and the crowd blissfully distracted by their own drunken revelry, the opportunity was simply too perfect to pass up. You had concocted a devilish plan—one that had been simmering in your mind all night. It wasn’t just about messing with your husband—it was about messing around with him.

Your overwhelming desire for your husband was impossible to ignore on any given day, but tonight, it seemed even more intense—an insatiable hunger that gnawed at you, its cause elusive and beyond your comprehension. Whatever the reason, it gripped you with a force you couldn't obstruct, leaving you restless and consumed by pure unadulterated lust.

This, naturally, allowed your plan to unfold effortlessly, as if guided by an invisible hand, bringing it closer to fruition.

To carry out your devious plan, you had carefully cultivated the trust of one of the few individuals who worked for you and Vander. They weren’t exactly employees in the traditional sense, but rather a handful of people you kept on the fringes, offering a few coins in exchange for their occasional assistance. Their loyalty was fleeting, bought with small tokens, but it was enough to serve your purpose. Especially in a moment such as this. A seemingly crucial one—at that.

You kept things vague, framing your request as though it were purely concerning a business discussion needing to be had. You asked your employee to discreetly inform your husband that someone was calling him from behind the velvet curtains of the VIP booth. You also made it clear that the employee should mirror your discretion, avoiding any mention of your name or your connection to him.

The employee appeared curious, even somewhat uneasy, at first. That was, however, prior to you slipping a generous cash bonus their way, eliciting their cooperation without room for protest.

"Go on, please," you plead with your unsuspecting employee, your voice laced with a blend of urgency and excitement. "But remember—don’t tell him it’s me."

As the employee slips into the bustling crowd, you struggle to contain the surge of excitement building within you, all while fighting to maintain a sultry—yet composed, demeanor. You adjust your hair, breasts, and clothing, making subtle moves to enhance your allure and mystery. Every gesture is deliberate, designed to keep you as collected and captivating as possible, cultivating an air of intrigue about you as you desperately await the arrival of your beloved husband.

They fulfilled your agreement as you waited—approaching their boss and informing him that someone had entered the VIP booth, insisting on speaking with him directly.

"VIP booth? Thought nobody booked it tonight," Vander remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to process the information. Normally, you were the one who handled the VIP booth, and he’d have gladly passed this task off to you—if the employee hadn’t mentioned that the VIP “customer” specifically requested Vander. Looks like he’d have to put on a more hospitable facade and give them what they wanted.

If only he knew just what this "customer" truly wanted from him.

After a series of grunts, groans, and huffs, Vander finally made his way to the booth. After forcing a welcoming smile onto his face, he slowly pushed aside the curtains.

"Sorry for the wait. You wanted to speak to the owner—"

His voice faltered, trailing off faster than it had taken him to summon the words.

You feel your own response threaten to catch in your throat, but you won’t cave. You abandon your nerves.

"Why yes, I did. Although..." you drawl, your tone laced with playful mischief, "...'speak' isn’t exactly at the top of the list of things I want to do to the owner."

Your sultry gaze locks onto his, deliciously teasing. Vander, already an imposing figure, looms even larger from your vantage point in the booth. Seated as you are, you find yourself craning your neck significantly just to meet his eyes, the angle only amplifying his commanding presence.

A slew of unidentifiable emotions cross his face in a mere flash before fading into a singularly—equally mischievous to yours—-expression.

“Well. Seein’ as how you are the VIP patron of the night, how can I oblige you?” He queries, his eyebrow raising once more.

Your heart stutters beneath your breast as his expression shifts, his eyes darkening with a lust-filled intensity that sends a shiver through you. The chemistry between you two never failing to baffle you.

"...Serve me," you murmur, your voice soft yet determined to keep the air thick with seduction.

"And what, if I may be so bold to ask, can I serve you with?" he inquires, his voice dipping low, the provocative edge in his gaze unwavering.

"Your body." you quip, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves stirring in your gut, desperate to make it quiver.

Vander eyes you carefully for a moment, savoring the way your confidence wavers. He deliberately toys with the knowledge of how easily he can unsettle you, his gaze lingering as if relishing every flicker of hesitation you try to hide. A smirk slowly spreads across his mouth—the very one you ached for—his eyes glinting with an all-knowing, deviously sexy twinge. He nods softly, his hand rising to casually caress his beard as he watches you, the tension thick in the air.

“Mmhmm. I see," he murmurs, his tone laced with teasing amusement. "Who am I, if not a man willing to care for his loyal customers?" He phrases simply, the words carrying a heavy, unspoken promise before he moves, gracefully lowering himself to his knees across from you. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before he slowly begins to push himself beneath the table that had kept you both apart.

You don’t dare look beneath the table, almost afraid to meet his gaze at this moment, unsure of what you might see on his face now that the situation has shifted. The tension coils tighter, each passing second amplifying the anticipation that overwhelmed your senses.

You practically jump at the brush of his shoulders against your shins as he crawls to them, the rush of anticipation making every nerve in your body jolt. The aching desperation pulling through you draws attention to your core as you feel his strong hands gently caress your legs, the heat of his touch settling on your knees, sending a shiver through you. The way your teeth begin to tug at your bottom lip seemed like the only way you could physically process your eagerness.

Vander remains silent, his hands moving deliberately in opposite directions, the gesture designed to spread your legs—yet he did so with enough force to split you down the middle if he hadn’t been careful enough. It isn’t until he successfully parts them that he speaks again.

“No bottoms? My. What a dirty girl you are, my dear customer. What if someone else had walked in here, hmm? Did you plan on flashing your bits to any bloke who popped his head in?” He teases, practically groaning some of his words, the guttural tone an unintentional yet instinctual reaction to the sight of you so bare—-so clearly prepared for whatever scenario it was you anticipated happening in this little corner of the establishment.

It was obvious to your husband, from the way you were reacting, that the possibility of him crawling under the table to bury his face between your thighs hadn’t even crossed your mind. The surprise and hesitation in your twitches and subtle movements told him everything he needed to know.

The distant, familiar chatter of real customers beyond the thin barrier tightened the knot in your stomach, throwing you into the reality of the moment. It became an unrelenting presence, grounding you in the tension that hung in the air. Meanwhile, the hot, damp breath of your husband seethed against the cold slickness seeping from your cunt, a stark contrast that deepened the unease coursing through you.

A shiver ran up your spine, your body trembling as nervous spasms raked through your bones when he edged even closer—his hair grazing your skin in that familiar way you knew so well. It wasn’t uncommon for your husband to spend most of his time down here, yet no matter how often it happened, the anxiety it stirred within you never waned.

You had an even harder time controlling how your body writhed as you felt the warmth of his tongue flush itself against your sopping heat. Your nails pressed into the soft wood of the table, digging in as you braced yourself, your body jerking. The spasms faltered for a moment, your body going rigid once he started violently lapping his tongue against your aching clit. The abrasing way his beard rubbed against the skin of your thighs sent you into a spiral.

You had expected him to fuck you directly on the table, to take you in the way you were used to—but instead, he toyed with you from beneath it, the unanticipated choice leaving you bewildered. You had been aching for what felt like ages, the desperation almost unbearable. It was a struggle to keep your mouth from parting—your head tilting back, eyes closing as your husband began to ease the tension that had gripped you for so long.

All you wanted was to whimper, to cry out for him, but you couldn’t—not with the patrons so close, just beyond the curtains. If he had only fucked you as you’d expected, he would’ve easily pressed a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, as he had in similar situations before. But this time, you knew he had chosen this path deliberately, testing whether you could hold your composure.

It was his unspoken way of making you atone for the ploy you used to get him here. He was a patient lover, understanding that even though you had pulled him away from his work—which he didn’t mind as much as he let on—you were just too eager to be patient. Always attuned to your needs, he was more than willing to satisfy the cravings of his most cherished wife, finding joy in fulfilling your desires—no matter the time or place. The absence of his familiar presence behind the bar, and the slight potential for upsetting customers, felt like a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to fully indulge in you. To unravel and claim you in ways only he could.

His tongue was relentless. He sloppily sucked and licked at your needy clit, his nose rubbing against the mound of flesh above as he devoured you. His hands were as equally hungry as his mouth, and in need of something to grab. He manhandles your legs, draping them roughly over his shoulders, his fingers gripping at your plush thighs as he curls his arms around them. In doing so, he pulled you closer, your back slipping against the booth as he guided you down, drawing you nearer to him with a purposeful force. His cock was begging to be set free from its cloth prison as he sunk his tongue deep into the void of your cunt. The rhythmic, wet sounds became a melody more captivating than any song he'd ever heard, especially when paired with the soft mewls of you struggling to stay collected—and most importantly—silent.

You can both hear and feel his laugh against you, a deep, low chuckle that carries a mix of arousal and amusement, vibrating through you with every huff. He found the way he could make you squirm incredibly sexy, the reaction sparking a deep sense of pride within him. There was something about the ease with which he could unsettle you that thrilled him, and he took great satisfaction in knowing how little effort it took. He knew all too well that it only took something as simple as a certain look to have you coming undone—and right now, he was determined to make you come undone. All over his tongue.

Vander knows just how wild his fingers can make you on their own— yet especially so when paired with the mastery of his expertly quick and thoughtful tongue.

He wasted no time in combining the two, intent on making you crack under the pressure. While Vander didn’t particularly want to be caught by patrons, either—or, for that matter, by one of your employees—his desire to make you scream was always his top priority.

He grips your thighs with more gusto than before, continuing to pull them further apart in hopes of expanding his ‘workspace’. He releases one of them, the fingers of that hand moving to replace the tongue that was working its familiar magic inside you. He doesn’t give you so much as a single moment to collect your thoughts as he makes the exchange, effortlessly ramming and curling two up into your cunt as his tongue continues its prior attack on your clit.

You swore you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, your grip on the table faltering just like your efforts to stay in control. You couldn't even attempt to cover your mouth, not with the relentless—yet unintentional—way your hands found their way under the table, tangling in his hair and gripping with enough force to pull some strands loose.

You greedily buck your hips down to meet the thrusting of his digits, pulling his head as far into your cunt as possible. He doesn’t complain. He never would. Maybe it was his own type of preferred masochism, but he’d consider suffocating and perishing in between your legs in this way, a noble death.

Your toes ache from the force with which you’re curling them, your legs clutching and winding around his shoulders and neck like a python.

By now, you had abandoned all caution, hope, and effort to moan quietly. You were practically screaming over the deliciously knowing way he prodded his thick fingers into your cunt. He had long forgotten to move them in and out. He knew exactly what spot drove you mad, and he made his most conscious effort to curl them into it as rapidly and frequently as possible.

As much as Vander adored your cries, they were truly becoming far too loud. He really didn’t want any curious folks to come wandering in to spoil the moment when you were so close to your inevitable peak. He has no choice but to silence you. With the hand that remained on your other thigh, he removed it from its resting place, reaching up from beneath the table as he gazes up at you. With a smirk against your cunt, and his eyes studying how your head was still thrown back against the booth, eyes shut tighter than a steel trap—-he shoves two of his free fingers into your mouth. Your eyes shoot open. You look down at him, earning a wink from your husband as he smirks harder against your cunt. The eye contact was filthy, in the most erotic way possible. It always made you feel slightly awkward, in an oddly arousing way, when you made such a type of contact with him in the heat of a moment like this.

You willingly sucked on his fingers, now understanding the purpose for his actions after a thoughtful moment. He groans against your cunt, luckily the sound being muffled by how much his mouth was buried into it. Your tongue swirls itself rapaciously around the digits, drool falling from your mouth as you did so. Vander simply can’t tear his eyes away from such a sight. He groans more as you lower your own gaze, your expression deadly with seduction. He was almost pissy that both of his hands were occupied at the moment. He was anxious to palm at his cock, desperate to find friction of his own now.

His tongue and lips were still working their relentless job on your clit, suckling every few seconds amidst the slurping. The way his facial hair brushes against it every now and then almost sends you into hysterics—bordering on a full blown frenzy.

Your legs are quaking, twitching and spasming with every harsh lick to your clit. It was so sensitive, you couldn’t help how it shocked your nerves, causing them all to fire simultaneously. Electricity burned in your veins, desperate to chase your orgasm as it made your hips flick against his mouth faster than he could lap at you.

Your orgasm burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach, commanding you to follow it down to your cunt.

It didn’t take much longer for you to keel over the edge of your impending climax. It burst through you, your legs clamping shut around his face—a move which Vander was used to by now—-hips mindlessly gyrating against his face as you brutally cum around his fingers. Vander can feel your walls clenching and relaxing back to back with each additional thrust he gave, your voice begging to slip past his fingers as you come undone. He thought you had been dripping wet at the start of this—but he had been sorely mistaken. Your arousal was seeping out of you despite his fingers plugging you up.

“Attagirl..” He whispers against you, giving your clit a few final licks before reluctantly pulling away. The grip on his hair finally loosened as your body went almost completely limp. Your breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, just as desperate as Vander, himself, now was. His cock was so hard, it felt like it was being choked by his trousers. But he had the patience of a saint. He could wait as long as needed for you to collect yourself once again.

“So, was the service to your liking?” he asks, his tone teasing—and entirely rhetorical—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The fingers that had been in your mouth slide free as he takes a moment to compose himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, clearly amused by how speechless you’ve become.

“Just don’t forget to tip your server..” He teases, alluding to the painfully obvious fact, that this situation is far from over.

[cafem3wcuryy]

౨ৎ ━━━ HALLWAY CRUSH !

req from anon: hii!! :3 do you think you could do another version of the hallway crush with some other characters? i was thinking about Tendou specifically but tsukishima and kenma would be super cool!! <3

continuation to this

━ characters: kageyama, tsukishima, kenma, akaashi, tendou

━ sum: bumping into their (hallway) crushes, then finally confessing.

━ tw: fem!reader, unestablished relationship

lowercase intended

m.list

━━━ KAGEYAMA TOBIO

⤷ kageyama first saw you in his class and thought you were really pretty, making him intimidated of you because of your beauty.

⤷ kageyama would try to talk to you face to face, but would backout last minute, making you confused every time he would call your name and just walk away without saying anything else.

⤷ kageyama would instead pass you notes during class.

hi

hi :) shouldnt u be paying attention?

ya but got bored :p

understandable btw y do u keep calling for my attention but then just walk away?

i get nervous sorry.

⤷ kageyama would continue to pass notes to you during class, then one day you got tired of sending notes all the time, so you asked him for his number and he started freaking out mid lesson.

⤷ kageyama wouldn't talk to you much during school, but whenever there is study hall or partner projects, he would look at you immediately with round eyes and softly furrowed eyebrows.

⤷ kageyama was hanging out with hinata one day during lunch, and you passed by, making kageyama freeze up when you waved and smiled at him, resulting in hinata to start freaking out and tell the team.

⤷ kageyama wouldn't even be the one to confess to you, hinata would accidentally say it out loud when he and kageyama saw you in the hallways.

"HEY! aren't you the one who kageyama has a crush on?!" hinata point at you.

"c-crush?"

"HINATA, YOU DUMBASS!"

⤷ kageyama would start to avoid you, wanting to avoid rejection and started freaking out when you texted him to meet you before volleyball practice.

"are you avoiding me?" you asked, a slight pout on your features.

"n-no?"

"well, i guess i there's no point in me telling you that i like you, too, because you want to keep ignoring me."

"W-WHAT???"

⤷ kageyama's cheeks were still bright red when he got to practice, making tsukishima and hinata to start teasing him throughout the entire practice.

━━━ TSUKISHIMA KEI

⤷ tsukishima was assigned as you tutor for math, marking the day he first saw you and thought you were cute, but he felt like you were going to be a nuisance.

⤷ at first, tsukishima thought you were annoying and thought you didn't care about school and you only cared about your looks or friends, but was proved wrong when you were actually trying to understand.

⤷ tsukishima would lowkey feel bad for thinking you were annoying, and as he kept tutoring you, he saw that you were nothing like he assumed you'd be, and his feelings began to grow for you.

⤷ tsukishima would rather die than to let people (ahem, the volleyball team) know that he has a crush on you, so whenever he sees you throughout the hallways, he'll look at you with a slight nod that you would return with a smile.

⤷ tsukishima would start to lowkey flirt with you, but the way he flirts is to tease you.

"you really do prove that not all pretty girls can be smart."

"excuse me?"

"i guess your stupidity can be overlooked because you're cute."

"is this your way of flirting or..?"

⤷ tsukishima would start asking you after your math sessions if you need help with any other subjects, and claiming that he has nothing better to do.

⤷ tsukishima would slowly start texting you, asking if you understood your homework and if you need help, you can just call him whenever and he's help a "poor soul" like you.

stinkyshima Did you do your homework?

[name] yes teacher 😒

stinkyshima You're an idiot.

[name] ur idiot <3

stinkyshima Good night.

[name] JUST SAY U HATE ME STUPIDSHIMA :(

⤷ tsukishima wouldn't want to tell you he has a crush on you because he has low self-esteem and is trying to avoid rejection, thinking you're too pretty for him.

⤷ tsukishima soon got tired of keeping his feelings in, so during one of your study sessions, he slid you a note as he looked away from you.

"read it." he muttered.

it's annoying keeping this to myself, i like you.

⤷ tsukishima would let out a quiet sigh of relief when you told him you like him too.

"okay, now finish."

"yeah, yeah."

━━━ KOZUME KENMA

⤷ kenma has the fattest crush on you since his first year, now in his second year, you're still is hallway crush.

⤷ kenma being the introvert, he never spoke to you, only keeping his eyes on you, unnoticed, every time you walked by him with your friends he would look discreetly, but it never went unnoticed with kuroo.

"what are you looking at, hm?" kuroo teased, as he followed kenma's line of sight.

"nothing."

"now that i think about it, you're always looking when she walks by."

⤷ kenma didn't know if he should be scared, happy or anxious when you came into the gym during practice and coach nekomata introducing you as the new manager.

⤷ kenma avoided you like the plague, why? idk introvert things.

⤷ kenma thought he was genuinely going to faint when you began talking to him after practice ended and he was playing on his psp.

"what are you playing?"

"?!"

"oh, i'm sorry for scaring you," you nervously laughed. "i just like playing video games too, but i'm not very good."

⤷ kenma was lowkey so jealous when any of the guys talked to you so easily, when he couldn't even go near you without being so nervous, he was mostly jealous of kuroo and lev because he didn't know if you liked tall guys more.

⤷ kenma almost never responded to you the first time you texted him outside of school because he was so nervous and scared.

xxx-xxx-xxxx hey! its [name] i rmbr u saying u play league i was wondering if you wanted to play w me? (07:29 pm)

[name] it's okay if u dont want too srry for bothering :) (10:56 pm)

kenma if u still want we can play (11:48 pm)

⤷ kenma wouldn't be the one to confess, let's be real, you were the one who confessed first, which then kenma told you he likes you too ever since his first year.

"i was scared you liked kuroo or lev..."

"what the-? why?"

"i thought you liked taller guys..."

⤷ kenma later made you a minecraft world, confessing to you a second time, saying he wanted you to feel special, too, because he was too much of a coward to confess first.

━━━ AKAASHI KEIJI

⤷ akaashi had first seen you walking out of your club one day with your teammates, and after that you were suddenly everywhere he was. (you guys have the same hall, he just never noticed you)

⤷ whenever akaashi saw you, he thought you always looked happy, no matter day, season, weather, you always had a small smile on your face whenever you were speaking to someone or just walking alone.

⤷ akaashi gained his crush on you after one day you and him locked eyes, and smiled at him.

⤷ akaashi decided to finally talk to you after that, and asked if you ever wanted to hang out with him during school or after clubs when you weren't busy.

"i should be free saturday if that works with you." you hummed, talking to akaashi on the phone.

"i'm free whenever you want me too be."

⤷ akaashi would be so whipped for you and he's such a gentleman, even though you guys weren't together (yet) he would open the door for you, pull your chair out for you, he even follows the sidewalk rule bro IM whipped.

⤷ after your hang out, akaashi would start calling you after clubs, asking how your day is, and what made your day, he just wants to listen to you talk.

⤷ you and akaashi would then start a routine where every saturday, you and akaashi meet up somewhere (wherever yo choose) and just hang out and talk.

⤷ akaashi thought he was slick with his crush on you with his teammates, but one day he went to practice and everyone started asking him questions, especially bokuto.

"you got a girlfriend now, akaashi?" konoha asks.

"what makes you say that?"

"I SAW YOU WITH A GIRL AT (cafe name) ON SATURDAY!!"

"were you spying on me...?"

"AKAASHIIII! I'M NOT WEIRD LIKE THAT!"

"mhm."

⤷ akaashi one day brought you to practice because bokuto kept asking him to introduce you to the team, even though akaashi told him you guys are just friends, he insisted.

⤷ akaashi decided to tell you about his feelings for you during one of your saturday 'hang outs'.

⤷ akaashi told you he was taking you to a park for a picnic and that's when he confessed.

"[name]."

"hm?" you look a him.

"i have feelings for you."

⤷ akaashi thought he was going to pass out when you flashed him the smile you first gave to him, even more so when you told him you had feelings for him too.

━━━ TENDOU SATORI

⤷ tendou first noticed you when you walked into the gym, asking for semi, he thought you were really pretty.

"soooo who was that semi-semi?" tendou coo'd.

"my classmate, why?"

⤷ tendou began looking for your face throughout the halls, wanting to just see you, and he that would literally just make his day.

⤷ tendou never approached you or spoke to you because he was scared you were going to think he was weird or you would get scared of him and how he looked. (the bullying took such a toll on him bro, i will fight for tendou)

⤷ tendou was SHOCKED when you came to the gym asking for HIM, he thought that this was the end and his heart was going to be SHATTERED.

⤷ imagine to his SHOCK when you asked tendou if he wanted to help you make some chocolates for a school fundraiser, and how you kept you smiling as you spoke to him.

"the counselor told me you wanted to become a chocolatier when you graduate and i thought you would be the perfect person for this!"

"r-really?"

⤷ tendou was lowkey so nervous when he got to the school's kitchen and it was just the two of you guys in there, so nervous that he didn't talk to you the first few days.

⤷ tendou tried so hard to mask the ever growing smile on his features when you started asking him some ice breakers, he went home so giddy, his parents were so happy seeing him happy like that.

⤷ on the last day of making chocolates together, tendou gained the courage to ask you if you wanted to exchange phone numbers, which you happily obliged. (i mean cmon he's so cutie patootie)

⤷ tendou never texted you first, he didn't want to come off as desperate or anything, so he waited patiently for you to text him, and after a few days went by with no text back, he was ready to give up, but! you eventually texted him, much to his relief.

[name] hey! sorry for not texting sooner, i was really busy with the fundraiser

(he forgot that you were part of the fundraiser bro)

⤷ as you guessed, tendou would never be caught confessing first, so when you confessed to him with chocolates on valentine's day, he almost cried, he also began to rapid fire questions at you, begging it isn't a sick joke.

"no! i would never joke about that!"

"you swear?"

"i swear."

sniffles.

"a-are you crying?"

"no. not yet."

notes:

lightly proofread bcs its 4 am ALSO IGNORE THE FUCK ASS COLOR SCHEME I CANT BE BOTHERED RN

YUR I DID THAT, reqs are opennn

[cherryxbooo]

Hey 😊 I love your writing sooo much !

Would you maybe write a Tim Bradford imagine where you're also a TO and you're having feelings for each other but you both try to ignore them, not to let them get in your way during the job. One time that changes as like in the episodes where Lucy gets kidnapped, it's you instead of her after a date gone wrong. Tim is on the edge the whole time till they find you. And when he sees you in that barrel, barely alive, his world crashes. Of course you can be saved and he stays at the hospital all the time. When you get home he also insists on taking care of you and there he also finds the courage to tell you his feelings properly, how much he loves you and that he'll always be there to protect you. I hope that's okay with you 💗🫶🏼

I’m not going anywhere

Summary: Tim and Y/N, both tough and dedicated TOs, struggle to suppress their growing feelings for each other. When Y/N is abducted after a date goes wrong, Tim refuses to back down, risking everything to find her.

Note: I'm so glad you enjoy my stories, love! 🫶 Thank you for this amazing request, I absolutely love the idea! I decided to give it my own spin to keep it unique and fresh instead of copying the entire episode. I hope you enjoy it! 🤍

Reader x Tim Bradford

Genre: fluff/angst

Being a Training Officer was never easy. You were expected to mold rookies into dependable cops, but it was also your job to keep them alive.

Every shift brought challenges that tested your patience and skills, especially when you worked alongside someone like Tim Bradford.

Tim was a force of nature. His bluntness could crush egos, his discipline was unmatched, and his loyalty ran deeper than any badge.

As a fellow TO, I admired him more than I cared to admit. But admiration had morphed into something more, something complicated.

I had feelings for him. And it was maddening.

Tim was infuriating. He challenged me at every turn, pushed me to my limits, and managed to crawl under my skin like no one else ever had.

But then there were the moments that made my heart ache:

the quiet glances when he thought no one was watching, the softness in his voice when he checked on me after a tough day, the way he never let anyone, rookie or otherwise, disrespect me.

We would also text each other back and forth to check in on one another.

It got to the point where if one of us didn’t respond within an hour, we assumed something was wrong.

That’s what normal colleagues do, right? Checking up on one another, or am I just fooling myself?

For months, I’d buried those feelings, telling myself that they were a distraction I couldn’t afford.

This job was dangerous enough without the added complication of being in love with my colleague.

Still, there were moments when I wondered if he felt the same.

I mean, someone like Tim Bradford wouldn’t just know my favorite coffee order for no reason, right?

The station was already filled with people when I arrived, the smell of burnt coffee and stale paperwork filling the air.

I was halfway to my desk when I heard Tim’s voice behind me.

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” he said, stepping beside me.

“Good morning to you too, Bradford,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“I’m serious,” he said, giving me a once-over and putting the coffee he got me down on my desk.

“Late night?”

“Something like that,” I muttered, collapsing into my chair.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Work-related?”

“No.”

He didn’t ask further, but the tension in his jaw told me he wanted to.

The truth was, I’d been on another date last night.

For weeks, I’d been trying to distract myself from my feelings for Tim by going out with guys I barely knew.

The dates were always the same, awkward conversations, forced laughter, and a growing sense that I was wasting my time.

But I kept trying, convinced that if I could just find someone else, I’d stop thinking about Tim every second of every day.

“How’s the rookie?” I asked, steering the conversation away from myself.

Tim sighed. “Still green, but they’ll get there.”

Before he could say more, Angela appeared, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, if it isn’t the dream team,” she teased, leaning against my desk.

“What do you want, Lopez?” Tim asked, crossing his arms.

“Nothing,” she said innocently.

“Just enjoying the sight of you two pretending you’re not completely into each other.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “Excuse me?”

Angela smirked. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious to everyone but you two.”

Tim’s ears turned red, and he muttered something under his breath before walking off.

“You really need to do something about that tension,” Angela said, winking at me.

I glared at her. “There is no tension. Besides, I'm going on a date later tonight." I added to make her shut up.

“Sure, but we both know the real reason why you're going on that date,” she said, walking away with a laugh.

I glanced at Tim, who was now at the other end of the room, barking orders at a rookie.

For a moment, our eyes met, and my heart did that stupid fluttering thing I hated so much.

Angela might have been onto something.

That evening after my shift, I found myself sitting across from Eric, my date for the night.

He was tall, dark-haired, and charming in a way that felt almost too polished.

We’d met at a coffee shop a week ago, and while I hadn’t been particularly interested, I’d agreed to go out with him.

“So, what made you say yes?” Eric asked, flashing me a grin.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” I admitted, sipping my drink.

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

I nodded, but my mind wasn’t really on him. As he talked about his job in finance, I found myself comparing him to Tim.

Eric was nice, but he didn’t have Tim’s sharp wit or his quiet strength.

“You’re distracted,” Eric said suddenly, his voice breaking into my thoughts.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Long day.”

“Let’s fix that,” he said, signaling the bartender for another round. “How about we go somewhere quieter after this?”

I hesitated, knowing I shouldn't agree to go with a stranger but I wanted to forget about Tim.

His charm had a rehearsed quality, and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about Eric felt... off.

But I pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to my overactive imagination.

“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile

Eric’s apartment was in a run-down building on the outskirts of the city.

The moment I stepped inside, unease crept up my spine.

The place was sparse, too sparse, and smelled faintly of chemicals.

“Nice place,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

“Thanks,” Eric replied, locking the door behind us.

When I turned to face him, his expression had changed. The easy smile was gone, replaced by something darker.

“You’re a cop, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

I froze. Not understanding why that was important. “What?”

“I saw your badge the other night,” he said, stepping closer.

My heart raced. “Eric, I think you’re confused—”

Before I could finish, he grabbed my arm, his grip bruising.

“You cops think you’re so smart,” he snarled. “Always sticking your noses where they don’t belong.”

“Let go of me,” I said, trying to pull away.

He didn’t. Instead, he shoved me against the wall, his hand clamping over my mouth.

“You’re going to regret this,” he hissed.

Panic surged through me as he dragged me toward a side door. My mind raced, searching for an escape, but he was too strong.

The last thing I saw before everything went black was the glint of a syringe in his hand.

When I woke up, my head throbbed, and my body felt heavy. I was in a dark, cold room, my hands bound and my mouth gagged.

Eric stood over me, a twisted smile on his face.

“Slept well, officer?” he taunted.

I glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“You thought you could mess with me?” he continued, pacing. “Well, now you’re going to see what happens when people cross me.”

He opened a barrel in the corner of the room, the metallic smell making my stomach churn.

“No one’s coming for you,” he said, lifting me effortlessly and shoving me inside.

As the lid closed, plunging me into darkness, I fought to stay calm. I couldn’t die here. Not like this.

Meanwhile, Tim paced through the station, his instincts churning. Something was wrong.

He couldn't explain it, but the nagging feeling in his gut had only grown stronger since Y/N hadn’t responded to his messages.

It wasn’t like her to leave him hanging, and she always checked in after her shifts or when she went out.

He tried to push the thought aside, she was a grown woman, capable and strong, but it wouldn’t leave him.

Tim knew her routines, and her habits, and something didn’t add up. He checked his phone again.

Nothing.

“Where is she?” he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling over.

Back at his desk, Tim pulled out his phone and shot her another text:

“You home safe?”

The minutes ticked by, and there was no response.

He told himself she was probably asleep or didn’t hear her phone. She always replied, though. Always.

Another text: “Y/N, call me when you get this.”

Tim stared at the screen, waiting, the worry clawing at him now. He scrolled through their recent messages, trying to reassure himself.

Her last text had been earlier in the evening: “Heading out now. Have fun working your long shift!”

It sounded normal. Casual. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He stepped out into the hallway and called her phone. It rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“Y/N, it’s me. Call me back when you get this, alright? Just… let me know you’re okay.”

He hung up, his chest tightening. Something was definitely wrong.

Tim called her again, then again, but there was no answer.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth.

He decided to start with the basics. Heading to Grey’s office, Tim knocked and stepped in without waiting for an answer.

“Bradford, what can I do for you?” Grey asked, looking up from his paperwork.

“Have you seen Y/L/N? She didn’t come back to the station tonight, did she?” Tim asked, keeping his tone steady, though his mind was racing.

Grey shook his head. “No, she clocked out on time. Why?”

Tim hesitated. “No reason just hadn’t heard from her. Thought she might’ve stayed late.”

“Everything okay?” Grey’s perceptive gaze lingered.

“Yeah. I’m sure it’s fine.” Tim turned and left the office, though his gut told him otherwise.

Tim strode into the bullpen, where Angela Lopez and Nyla Harper were deep in conversation over their laptops.

“Have either of you heard from Y/N?” Tim asked abruptly.

Angela looked up, frowning. “Not since this morning. Didn’t she have a date tonight?”

The word date hit Tim like a punch. “Do you know where?”

Angela shook her head. “She didn’t say much, just that it was someone new she met online. Why?”

Tim’s jaw tightened. “She’s not answering her phone.”

Nyla set her coffee down, her sharp instincts immediately kicking in. “How long has it been?”

“Hours,” Tim admitted, his frustration evident. “She always checks in. This isn’t like her.”

Angela exchanged a glance with Nyla.

“Alright,” Nyla said, standing up.

“Let’s figure this out. You said she had a date, does she use any apps? Maybe tech can pull her messages.”

Angela nodded. “She mentioned using something, but I don’t remember the name. Let’s get tech on it.”

Angela grabbed her phone, calling tech support while Nyla placed a calming hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“We’ll find her, Bradford,” she said firmly. “You know Y/N, she’s tough. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.”

Tim didn’t respond, his jaw clenched tightly.

The bullpen was full of people and their voices, but to Tim, the noise was a distant hum.

His focus was razor-sharp, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth ached.

He loomed behind the tech analyst’s desk, the tension radiating off him making the others keep their distance.

Angela and Nyla exchanged concerned glances nearby, but no one dared to interrupt him.

“Anything yet?” he barked, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.

The analyst flinched slightly but kept typing. “I’m pulling her dating app data now. It’s just taking a moment to decrypt the server.”

Tim’s fists clenched at his sides. Every second felt like a lifetime.

Y/N was out there, somewhere, and the thought of her being in danger gnawed at him like a vice around his chest.

Finally, the analyst straightened. “Got something!”

Tim surged forward, leaning over the desk as the analyst brought up a profile on the screen.

“She was messaging a guy named Eric Dawson,” the analyst explained, scrolling through the messages.

“They had arranged to meet at a bar in Eagle Rock.”

Tim’s heart pounded. “What bar?”

“Solana’s Tavern,” the analyst replied.

Nyla crossed her arms, her brow furrowed.

“That area’s rough. Not exactly where you take someone on a first date.”

Tim’s chest tightened further. “Pull traffic cams from outside the bar. I need to know if she made it there and if she left.”

The analyst nodded and got to work, typing furiously. The tension in the room was suffocating as everyone watched the screen in silence.

Tim paced behind the desk, every step heavy with barely restrained anxiety.

“Tim,” Angela said softly, approaching him.

“Maybe you should take a beat. Let us handle this.”

He spun around, his eyes blazing. “No. She’s counting on me. I’m not sitting this one out.”

Angela held up her hands in surrender, backing off.

“Got it!” the analyst said, breaking the silence.

Footage from a traffic camera outside the bar flickered onto the screen.

They watched as Y/N appeared, her expression hesitant as she walked into the bar.

“There she is,” Angela said, pointing at the screen.

Tim leaned closer, his eyes locked on the image of Y/N.

He barely noticed how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the desk.

The analyst fast-forwarded the footage, scanning for her exit. About an hour later, Y/N appeared again, walking out with a man.

The guy had his hand on her arm, his grip firm, his body language all wrong.

“She doesn’t look comfortable,” Nyla said, her voice low.

“He’s leading her. She’s not willingly going with him.”

Tim’s stomach churned. “Run his plates,” he snapped, his tone sharp.

The analyst zoomed in on the car the man guided Y/N towards, pulling up the plate number.

Seconds later, the vehicle’s registration information appeared.

“The car is registered to an address just outside the city,” the analyst said.

“A warehouse on the outskirts of town.”

“That’s it,” Tim said, already moving.

He grabbed his vest and radio. “Gear up. We’re heading there now.”

“Tim,” Grey’s voice called, cutting through the chaos.

Tim stopped but didn’t turn around.

“You need to stay focused,” Grey said firmly, stepping closer.

“I know how much this means to you, but if you’re too emotional, you’ll compromise the operation.”

Tim turned, his eyes hard. “With all due respect sir but again, I’m not sitting this one out.”

Grey studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. But keep your head on straight. She’s counting on you, and I can't afford to lose one of my best officers.”

Tim nodded sharply, strapping on his vest.

“Let’s move,” he said to Angela and Nyla, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With the rest of the team following behind.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, a decrepit shell of concrete and rust that felt suffocating even from the outside.

Tim’s heart pounded in his chest as he and the team moved in silently, weapons drawn.

Every instinct screamed at him to hurry, but he forced himself to stay focused.

This wasn’t just another rescue mission. This was Y/N. His Y/N.

And he was barely holding it together.

They moved through the darkened halls, their flashlights sweeping over scattered debris and abandoned machinery.

The air was thick with the smell of oil and mildew, but there was something else, a faint metallic tang that Tim couldn’t quite place.

It turned his stomach.

“Clear,” Angela said, her voice steady as they swept one room after another.

Tim’s jaw clenched. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and with each empty room, the knot in his chest tightened.

“Over here!” Nolan’s voice cut through the tense silence.

Tim turned, his flashlight catching the glint of something metallic in the corner of the room. A row of barrels.

“No...” he whispered, his legs moving before his brain could catch up.

The closer he got, the stronger the smell became, an acrid mix of chemicals and fear.

He dropped to his knees in front of the nearest barrel, his hands trembling as he pried the lid off.

Empty.

He moved to the next one, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Bradford,” Angela said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No!” he snapped, shaking her off. “I’m not stopping.”

The third barrel was heavier. He could feel it as he pulled at the lid, his muscles straining. And then it came loose.

Tim’s flashlight illuminated the inside, and his entire world shattered.

It was her.

Y/N was curled inside, her body limp, her skin pale and clammy. Her wrists were bound, the rope digging so deeply into her skin that blood had dried in angry, red streaks.

Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling so faintly he almost missed it.

“Y/N!” he choked, dropping his flashlight and reaching in to pull her out.

“Get a medic!” Angela yelled, her voice distant as Tim focused solely on Y/N.

He cradled her against his chest, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. It was there, but weak.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stay with me.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. But then her lips parted, and a barely audible whisper escaped.

“Tim...”

Relief surged through him, hot and overwhelming.

“I’m here,” he said, brushing the hair from her face. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Her head lolled against his chest, and he tightened his grip, as if holding her closer could somehow shield her from everything she’d been through.

The paramedics arrived moments later, but to Tim, it felt like hours.

He reluctantly let them take her, his hands still hovering as if afraid she’d disappear if he didn’t keep touching her.

As they loaded her into the ambulance, Angela placed a hand on his shoulder again. This time, he didn’t shrug it off.

“You did good,” she said softly.

He didn’t answer. All he could think about was the sight of her in that barrel, the life nearly drained out of her.

And how he never wanted to feel that kind of fear again.

The first thing I felt was pain, dull, throbbing, and constant pain.

It was everywhere, but especially in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe deeply without it stabbing me from the inside.

My eyes fluttered open, and I was greeted by a blinding white light that made me squeeze them shut again.

I tried to move, but my body protested. My throat was dry, my lips cracked.

“Y/N?”

The voice was soft, deep, and familiar. I forced my eyes open again, squinting, and slowly turned my head toward the sound.

“Tim…” I croaked, barely above a whisper.

He was right there, leaning forward in the stiff hospital chair like he’d been glued to it for hours.

His hands were gripping mine tightly, and his face was a mixture of relief and worry.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice rough and unsteady.

His eyes softened as they roamed over my face like he couldn’t believe I was actually there.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“You’re in the hospital,” he said, sitting up straighter. “You’re safe now. We found you.”

The memories started flooding back. The date. The man. Everything.

My heart rate spiked, and the beeping from the monitor beside me quickened.

“The barrel…” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Tears stung my eyes as I remembered the cold, the suffocating darkness, and the terror that had gripped me when I thought I’d never get out.

Tim’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me.

“It’s over. He can’t hurt you anymore,” he said firmly, his voice laced with a quiet rage.

“I thought… I thought I was going to die,” I admitted, my voice trembling.

Tim’s jaw tightened, and he leaned closer. “You didn’t. You fought, Y/N. You held on long enough for us to get to you. And I swear, nothing like this will ever happen to you again. I won’t let it.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I looked at him.

His face etched with so much emotion that it was hard to believe this was the same Tim Bradford who kept his feelings so close to his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Don’t thank me. Just… promise me you’ll be more careful. No more dates with guys like that.”

I let out a weak laugh that quickly turned into a wince. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade.

The drive back to my place was quiet. Tim insisted on taking me home himself after I got discharged.

I didn’t have the energy to argue. My ribs ached with every bump in the road, and the painkillers they’d given me at the hospital were starting to wear off.

When we got to my place, I reached for the door handle, but Tim was faster.

He was already out of the car and opening my door before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt.

“You don’t have to hover, you know,” I said, trying to inject some humor into my voice.

“You’ve barely been out of the hospital for a day,” he shot back, ignoring my attempt to downplay things.

“I’m not taking any chances.”

I didn’t argue. Honestly, I didn’t want to be alone.

Inside, Tim helped me settle on the couch, propping me up with pillows and making sure I had everything within arm’s reach: water, my phone, and even the remote for the TV.

“Comfortable?” he asked, standing in front of me with his arms crossed.

“Yes, officer Bradford,” I teased, giving him a tired smile.

He smirked but didn’t respond. Instead, he disappeared into the kitchen, and I heard the faint clatter of dishes.

A few minutes later, he returned with a cup of tea.

“Here,” he said, handing it to me carefully. “Drink. Doctor’s orders.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you become so domestic?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, sitting down in the armchair across from me.

We sat in silence for a while, the tension between us thick and unspoken.

I sipped my tea, glancing at him occasionally, and each time I did, I caught him staring at me like he was afraid I might disappear.

“You know,” I said finally, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

Tim frowned. “I’m not going anywhere. End of discussion.”

There was a finality in his tone that told me arguing would be pointless. Still, I couldn’t help but ask,

“Why?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest.

“Because I need to make sure you’re okay,” he said quietly.

Something in his voice made my chest tighten. “Tim…”

“I thought I lost you,” he said, cutting me off.

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, all the walls he kept so carefully constructed were gone.

“Do you know what it felt like, finding you like that? You were barely breathing, Y/N. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things on this job, but nothing ever scared me like that.”

I set the cup down, my hands trembling. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. But I can’t—” He stopped, his voice breaking.

“I can’t go through that again.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, my heart aching at the raw emotion in his voice.

“I’m still here, Tim,” I said softly.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded. “Yeah. You are.”

Later that evening,

The room was quiet, the soft hum of the TV filling the background.

I was cocooned in a blanket, my body still aching, but the dull pain was nothing compared to the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

Tim was sitting close, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his presence steady and comforting.

Without thinking, I shifted closer, leaning my head against his shoulder.

It wasn’t intentional, or maybe it was, but it felt natural like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Tim didn’t move. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel him tense slightly under my touch.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

I lifted my head, glancing at him in confusion. “For what?”

“For everything.” His eyes were fixed on the TV, but he wasn’t really watching it.

“For not seeing the signs. For not protecting you. For letting this happen to you.”

“Tim…” I reached out, placing my hand lightly on his arm.

“You couldn’t have known. It wasn’t your fault.”

He finally turned to look at me, his blue eyes swirling with guilt, and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite put into words.

“That’s not all I’m sorry for.”

A knot formed in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

Tim hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was debating whether or not to say what was on his mind.

Then, he shifted, turning his body toward me fully. “I’ve been holding something back. Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

My heart began to race. I swallowed hard. “Tim…”

He shook his head, cutting me off gently. “Just… let me finish.” He took a deep breath.

“When I saw you in that barrel, when I thought I might lose you, I realized how much I’ve been lying to myself. About you. About us.”

His words hit me like a freight train, and I struggled to find my voice. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He paused, his voice soft but steady.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for months. And I’ve been too much of a coward to say it because I thought it would mess everything up. The job. Us. But after what happened…”

His voice cracked slightly, his vulnerability breaking through. “I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t lose you without you knowing how I feel.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding so hard it drowned out the noise of the TV, of the world.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and before I could stop myself, I let out a shaky laugh.

“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” I whispered.

Tim’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” I took a deep breath, the words spilling out before I could overthink them.

“I’ve been going on those dates to forget about you.”

His eyes widened, shock flickering across his face. “What?”

“I thought…” My voice cracked, and I looked down at my hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“I thought you’d never feel the same way. I thought if I distracted myself and forced myself to move on, I could stop feeling this way about you. But it never worked. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Tim.”

Silence settled between us, heavy and charged. Then, Tim let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “You should’ve told me.”

“I was scared,” I admitted, finally looking up at him.

“Scared of ruining what we have. Scared of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

He reached up, his hand gently cupping my cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“Not now. Not ever.”

I leaned into his touch, my heart swelling with relief, with joy, with everything I’d been holding back for so long.

“You mean that?”

“Every word,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.

Slowly, he leaned in, and my breath caught in my throat.

He gave me every opportunity to pull away, to stop him, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to.

When his lips finally met mine, it was soft and tentative at first, as if we were both still testing the waters.

But then it deepened, carrying months of unspoken emotions, of longing, of everything we’d tried so hard to ignore.

When we finally pulled apart, I let out a breathless laugh, leaning my forehead against his.

“That was a long time coming.”

“You’re telling me,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I pulled back slightly to look at him, my expression turning serious. “What happens now?”

He smiled softly, his eyes warm and filled with a rare tenderness.

“Now, we take it one day at a time. No rush. No pressure. But I promise you this: I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears stung my eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief, of happiness.

I smiled, leaning into his embrace as his arms wrapped securely around me.

“I think I can live with that,” I murmured, my voice muffled against his chest.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I felt more at peace than I had in weeks.

Maybe even months. No matter what challenges lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain:

We’d face them together.

The end

[darnell-la]

can i request older logan with reader who’s a crybaby… reader who cries over little things and older logan who can’t help but get hard and coddle her. wiping away tears during sex!!!

note: older Logan wouldn’t take y/n’s crying session seriously. Usually, they’d all be because of work, something he’s told her a thousand times he didn’t want her to do, so a part of him didn’t care. Instead, he loved how much she cried, taking advantage of it whenever he could.

———

“How was work today, Bub?” Logan asked, eyes glued to the newspaper he had picked up in front of the door earlier this morning. Y/n hadn’t said anything. She tried thinking of what exactly she should say, but he had spoken first.

“Bub? What up?” Logan asked, eyes looking over his reading glasses as she slipped off her shoes and hung her things up. “I-I — You know,” y/n said, but Logan in fact did not know.

“I know what?” He asked, setting his paper aside as he felt something wrong with her. “Work today — It was just exhausting,” she said as she went into the kitchen to grab a glass of any alcohol Logan bought for himself, and she drank occasionally.

“What happened?” Logan asked as she got up, listening closely to her story of the day. The more she talked, the more cracks he heard in her house.

“A-And the boss said maybe he’d fire me if I kept snapping back at the customers, but they always start it! Every day, it’s the same s-shit!”

“Baby, baby,” Logan said as he came up behind the young lady before she could pick up the glass she had just filled. “Don’t need you drinkin’ your problems away. It ain’t good for you,”

“I know, but — I just need something, Logan. This is so stressful,” she said as he turned her around to take a look at her face, and like he knew it, she was crying. Eyes glossy and puffy as always.

“Baby,” Logan tilted his head with a sigh, upset that she’s always stressed and taking in everything people say to her. He wished she could just move on with life, and stay happy with a big smile.

“Look at me, Bub,” Logan said as he lifted her head after she tried turning her head. “You need to relax — Stop letting these people get to your head,” Logan said as he wiped her tears.

“I know, but-“ y/n tried saying, but the man shushed her. “Don’t speak, Bub, just relax. And no drinking either,” Logan said as he moved the glass she filled to the side.

“You’re too pretty to be cryin’ all the time, baby,” Logan said as his faves nuzzled hers. “I-It’s just so much,” y/n cried as his hands rubbed her body, trying to calm her down a bit.

“I know, baby, and what did I tell you? Told you I’d take that easy lumberjack job, right? Get us double what an average human man could make workin’ for ‘em and put that money towards our cabin,” Logan reminded her.

“Baby, I don’t want you to work though,” y/n said as his hands tracked up her shirt. “And why can’t I? I’m the man, and you’re my pretty girl. I’m tired of being a housewife. That’s your job, or at least let me do it all. You can relax the rest of your pretty life,” Logan said in the crook of her neck.

“You’re gonna take my offer, bub. Ian askin,” Logan’s hand dug into her jeans to rub at her cunt until she squealed. “I-I don’t know,” she still cried, upset at herself for being this sensitive and also hit by the instant pleasure Logan was giving her.

“What did I say, baby? This ain’t askin,” Logan said before he ripped y/n’s jeans off of her. She gasped as he picked her up and placed her on the counter, spreading her legs as he pulled himself out of his jeans.

“You should be waitin’ at home for him to come back and give it up. Not the other way around, baby,”

Logan pushed into the weeping girl, making her hands fly up to grip shi shoulder. “Logan,” y/n sobbed, feeling his cock run through her walls in all of the right ways. He always made her forget why she cried in the first place.

“Ssh, baby — Just enjoy me. Cunts beggin’ for it,” Logan said as he cupped her face, wiping all of the tears that streamed down her face. “Mhm hmm,” he groaned as his free arm hooked under one of her legs to get a good new angle to pound her in.

“L-Lo,” y/n cried out, loving the way his body smacked against hers. “That’s it, baby — Let it all out,” Logan pulled her into his body, pounding so hard, that the countertop began shifting.

“Cry on my cock, baby — Look so good like this. So fuckin’ good,” Logan couldn’t lie as his eyes could barely stay open and tears still streamed from them. He was Jauch a crybaby, but his crybaby.

[lunajay33]

Why Me?

•🤎🐺🪵🍂🌑•

Summary: Bella and Y/n are twins but when Bella and Renee moved away you stayed with Charlie always growing closer with the people around La push, but when Bella comes back it’s like everything is flipped around, Bella becomes distant obsessed with the cullens, you find solace with the guys at the beach but things change after the first year and suddenly you’re all alone, will anyone come back, will Paul your best friend, your forever crush come save you from depression

Pairing: Paul Lahote x f!reader

Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts

Part.2

•Masterlist•

It was a simple life in forks but I loved it this is where I’m meant to be, I can’t explain it but it calls to me, the rainy weather, the cool breeze, the calm beach at La push, even my group of friends made my life feel complete

Plus I had dad or as Bella called him, Charlie, after mom and Bella left when I was only 4 it was usually just the two of us, suppers out at the cafe or cozy nights at Jacob’s as they watched the game, I kept him a float after the devastating heart break even thought I was young, mom tried to take me with them the night everything happened but I held on to dad screaming for him to keep me, and here we are today just me and him it was perfect everything was exactly how it should be, then we got the call Bella was moving back I was nervous at first I haven’t seen her since she stopped visiting years ago

“I’ll be back later, be safe and if you go out leave a note okay sweetie?” Dad stated as he picked up the keys to his police cruiser

“Okay dad! Drive safe” we shared a hug before he left leaving me alone and anytime I was free I’d either walk through the forest behind my house or hang out at the beach with Paul or Jacob

I pulled on a coat and hiking boots heading to the over grown trees lining the backyard, the weather is not too cold but it’s still over cast, the trees are lined with a thick moss the ground littered with pine cones and varying animals tracks

Sometimes I’d find Paul trying to blow off steam out here so hopefully I’ll come across him today needing my best friend right now with all the stress I’ve been feeling about Bella’s return

After a bit more walking I heard groaning as I approached the cliff we sometimes would hang out on, I rounded a tree and saw Paul sitting there huffing and puffing, he’s always had anger issues growing up but I was always there for him and for some reason I was the only one to calm him down

Silently I sat next to him laying my head on his shoulder his arm instinctly wrapping around my waist quickly finding comfort in each others company

“Remember when we were nine and you were so angry that Jacob took my ice cream, you pushed him into a puddle and got me a new ice cream and I had to keep you calm away from Jake the rest of my party” I stated laughing remember how cute he was and that’s the day my crush on him started which grew over the years but I’d never tell him that, I can’t risk what I have with him

He sighed squeezing my hip his breathing calming down

“I couldn’t help it you were so excited all day for your ice cream and that look in your face when he took it mad me so mad, you know I hate seeing you upset”

“Don’t get soft on me Lahote” he huffed out a laugh

“What’s wrong Paul? Anything I can do to help?” I asked finally looking up at him

He looked hesitant his eyes looking anywhere but me, I drew my hand through his long beautiful black hair trying to ease his worries

“Just a lot lately, things with the older tribe members don’t worry about it, how about you Bella’s coming today you still nervous?”

“Yeah what if we’re not like how we were as kids, what if she doesn’t like me anymore I mean I know I can be a burden sometimes but I just want my sister”

“Hey what did I tell you about talking about yourself like that, she’s gonna love you and you’re not a burden why do you think the guys and everyone around you loves you?”

Sometimes when he’d get sweet talking like this it only made me love him more, feeling the blush spread across my cheeks I pushed his arm playfully trying to hide my feelings

“You’ll always be here for me right Paul, even when we both have stuff going on you’ll be here?” My hands fiddling together

“Always”

It’s been a week since Bella’s moved back and it’s been nice, we reconnected and talked before bed most nights just catching up on everything, and it was nice to have a friend at school now, I never really had friend at the forks school, I tried but no one ever bothered, plus all my friends down at La push is better than anyone here

Sitting at my usual lunch table by the windows I glance over seeing Bella with her whole new table of friends, she said she’d sit with me if it bothered me to be alone but I didn’t want to get in the way of her making new friends plus I saw how she’d rather be with them it was the perfect spot to look at the cullens, who she’d make goggly eyes at every lunch

But the day dragged on as usual but when that final bell rang I was free, I ran out the door heading straight to where Paul usually parked to pick me up but he wasn’t there which was strange he was never late

“Hey y/n do you need a ride?” Bella called from a few spots down waiting at her truck

“Oh ummm no I should be fine maybe he’s just running late” I waved her off just hoping he was okay

I sat on the stairs watching as the cars emptied the parking lot one by one till there was no one but me and the setting sun

I sighed realizing he wasn’t coming so I started walking home, once I got through the door I dialed Paul on the house phone my heart beating anxiously

The tones rang one after another but no answer so I called Jacob instead and of course he answered immediately

“Hello Black residence” his chipper voice always made me smile he was such a sweet guy

“Hi Jake it’s y/n Paul didn’t pick me up today and I was wondering do you know if he’s okay?”

“Oh no I haven’t heard…..” I heard a mumbled voice behind him then the voice changed

“Who is this?” And I recognized that voice it was Sam Uley

“Hey Sam it’s me y/n swan! Ummm sorry if I interrupted something I was just calling worried about Paul, have you seen him around?”

“Oh he’s gonna be under the weather for a while he’s caught a stomach bug, we don’t wanna risk you getting sick too”

“Can I visit just to drop off soup or something?” My heart ached knowing what he’d say

“I’m sorry honey not yet, it’ll be awhile just give him time”

“But……but he’s my best friend” my voice wavered haven’t never being apart from him for a long period of time there was this pull to him I always felt so being apart felt…….wrong

“Just give it time honey, I’ve gotta go, goodnight” and with that he hung up the phone felt heavy in my hand

I’ve seen Paul every day since he got his licence, he’s a year older so when he got it he promised to pick me up everyday to make sure I was safe, Bella can drive me now but it’s not the same after a long day I’d get in his truck and cuddle up to his side and drive down to the beach and relax

“Sweetie why are you crying?” Dad broke me out of my thoughts as he hung up the phone

“Oh it’s nothing just….pauls sick I’m just worried”

“That kid is strong he’ll be just fine” he smiled patting my shoulder before he got a soda from the fridge

The days dragged on and I thought he’d atleast pick up the phone when I called or even call me but nothing, not a word and now a month has gone by I thought I’d have Bella but she quickly became all involved with Edward Cullen, the older member of the tribe weren’t quite fond of their family they told me stories but I thought it was all just legends never thinking too much about them

So now without Bella and Paul I was alone, my world felt flipped upside down, everything use tk be perfect but now I felt ripped of who I was, I fell hollow, drained, the all crushing depression, I can’t sleep evident by the dark circles under my eyes, I can barely eat shown by the hollows covering my body and the clothes that hung on my body, I felt like I’m dying, I’m fading

I’ve never been through a break up but this can’t be how it feels this has to be something different, something more painful

School was like hell, even worse than before, Bella convinced me some days to sit with her and the cullens and Alice was always trying to cheer me up but nothing was ever permanent

I picked at my rice as Emmett bragged about how he beat Edward in a baseball game

“Still not feeling well?” Jasper asked next to me, the first time I’ve ever heard him speak

“I think somethings wrong with me, I think I’m dying” everyone stopped what they were talking about and eyes were on me but I didn’t care anymore

“Why would you say that y/n?” Alice spoke

I sighed excusing myself from the table walking away, they couldn’t understand but maybe the elders could, I called dad and he said he’d be at the school to pick me up seeing as work was going slow

A few minutes later the cruiser pulled up and I got in the front seat

“Sick again?” He asked worry written all over his face

I’ve been calling him to pick me up from school a lot, either from spells of nausea throwing up or just the overwhelming depression

“Can you take me to Emily’s?” She was like a aunt to me always so sweet and that’s what I needed right now

“Of course sweetie” the drive was silent until we pulled into the gravel drive way seeing Sam and Emily step out

“Try and relax okay, I’ll pick you up whenever you’d like just call” I managed a smile and got out seeing him drive away

I walked up the porch steps straight into Emily’s arms

“Oh honey what’s happened we haven’t seen you in so long” she said stepping back taking in my clearly broken and sick appearance, the baggy brown hoodie that use to fit relative tight and some ratty sweat pants, my hair pulled into two messy braids

“Somethings wrong Emily, I didn’t know who else to ask” finally letting the tears stream down my face, she squeezed my hands giving Sam a desperate look as she led me inside

I sat on the couch as she dropped a fluffy blanket over my legs telling Sam to make me a hot chocolate

“What’re you feeling hun? How did all this start” her voice always soothed me

“I can’t eat or sleep, I can’t feel it’s like I’m hollow inside and it hurts, not just emotionally I physically get sick all the time, dad brought me to the doctors and they say nothing is medically wrong” Sam placed the drink on the table infront of me and sat next to Emily on the couch across from me

“When did this all start?” He asked

“The day Paul left me, I know it sounds crazy but…….its likes a piece of me died when he stopped coming around” they looked at eachother with knowing looks

“You’re not crazy”

“Then what? Do you know what’s wrong with me?” I ask almost pleading

“I might, how about you and Emily catch up and rest, I’ll be back soon” and with that he left leaving me confused

The sun started setting and I didn’t want to bother Emily more that needed

“I think I’m gonna head home, thanks for having me today” I said pulling on my coat at the door

“Do you want me to call Charlie it’s a long walk hun”

“Oh no I’m…..I need some air I’ll be fine”

“Okay but be safe and call me when you get home so I know everything okay?”

“Okay Em” I faked a smile and left feeling the cool breeze hit me, but I lied theres no going home this time, I’m going to where I last had him, the cliffs

The walk was long and cold but when I finally made it the moon was shining bright over head, dropping to my knees I cried and cried until there was no more tears left

What was the point anymore he’s never coming back so this pain will never go away I feel like I’m fading away anyways

Standing up I neared the cliff edge the sea breeze blowing up from far below

“Maybe in another life I’ll find you Paul” then a quick breeze whooshed past my body opening my eyes I wasn’t at the cliff anymore but in the deep forest

Emmett Cullen right infront of me, confused and upset I step away crossing my arms over my chest

“Emmett why would you stop me, what’re you even doing here” I sigh wanting to just scream

“What the hell were you thinking, why would you try to kill yourself what about Bella what about Charlie?”

“It hurts so much Emmett can you just make it go away, I wanna be okay again”

“This isn’t suppose to happen to you, you’re suppose to be Bella’s sweet shy sister” he sighs pulling me into a tight cold hug, nothing like how it felt with Paul

“Not anymore Em”

“Do you wanna come over I can make you anything you want and I can make a cozy spot for you infront of the fire place”

“Oh I couldn’t impose like that”

“If Bella’s family now so are you” before I could agree a growl rumbled through the trees

Turning a grey wolf the size of a mini van emerged from the trees its eyes piercing at Emmett

“Emmett what do we do?” I ask scared gripping his arm

“Calm down you’ll be okay just trust me okay”

“O…okay” and the next second he was gone in the blink of an eye

He left me, I turn back to the wolf that no longer growled but was whining, getting closer it laid down infront of me nudging my leg with its snout, suddenly the fear dissapeared

I lean down and cautiously rubbed my hand through its soft fur hearing it grumble, sitting in front of it it moved forward laying its head across my lap completely covering it

“You’re quite beautiful, like a gentle giant” rubbing its fur helped sooth me bringing me back to reality of what I almost did tonight

“I can’t believe I almost ended it all tonight, he’ll come back to me soon right? I’ll be happy again someday won’t I?”

I licked at my hand whining

“He promised he wouldn’t leave me, he always said he’d protect me and he always made me happy I don’t know what to do without him”

The wolf got up motioning to get on it back and for some reason I didn’t think twice about it, hopping on I held onto its next as it made its way down the path back the way I came

Right back to Emily’s house

Part.2

Taglist: @lilredcamaro14 @cvmtitss @larissa01-blog2

[cheriecoke]

seeds of doubt

ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

summary — you don't feel like you’re good enough for them

contents — they comfort you when you’re feeling insecure about your relationship, sfw !!

notes — my other dazai wip is taking a while, so i decided to finish this one! i started it a few wks ago but since i’ve been feeling a lil down lately, i decided it was time for a comfort piece!

₊˚⊹♡ DAZAI

when you'd come home from work that evening, dazai had already known something was wrong. your usually bright smile didn't quite reach your eyes, your shoulders slumping the moment you crossed the threshold of your home.

dazai hadn't pushed you, but he had drawn you up tight in his arms, held you close when you breathed heavily into his shoulder, releasing all the tension in your body. his fingertips were soothing along your neck, massaging small, relaxing circles.

for the past hour, though it was nearing dinnertime, you'd found yourself buried in blankets, so warmly entangled with him, even when all of your hypercritical thoughts threatened to chill you to the core.

dazai spoke to you softly, asking you questions about your day for a while, ones that you refused to answer. you kept your eyes glued to the screen, watching mindlessly as a movie played, one that neither of you were paying any attention to.

that continued on for as long as he could stand it.

finally, with a sigh, dazai paused the film. he shifted, turning so that you were both face to face, his long limbs twisting around your own. limbs that were always so solid and warm, despite the iciness of his hands.

"kunikida told me what you said."

hesitantly, you stared back with wide eyes, jaw clenching. already, you knew what dazai was talking about. it was something that you'd told kunikida in confidence, because of all the members of the agency, you'd been certain that he was the least likely to spill your true feelings.

you stared back at him blankly, your shoulders stiffening. "hm? we talked a lot today. i'm not sure i know—"

though you pretended not to remember, dazai didn't let you run away from the question.

his lips fell into a frown, unamused. he drew your name out on an exhale, before running his palm over your cheek, across your chin, dipping his fingers into your hair. "don't bother. he's already mad enough at himself for telling me, but he hated how upset you were about it."

"osamu," you began. "i don't—"

"why did you tell him that you think you're not good enough for me?"

the seriousness in his deep brown eyes was so different than his usual playfulness, and you almost withdrew from them, curving deeper into yourself.

though, alongside the stoicism of his expression was something so melancholy, you found yourself offering your unfiltered emotions instead.

a long pause ensued. you breathed.

"because it's true," you finally whispered, your words wispy. "i'm not good enough for you, osamu." you swallowed when his face fell even further. "you're so smart, so handsome. you make me laugh all the time." your eyes grew hot as you felt tears at the edges of them. "i'm so plain compared to you."

"plain?" he repeated back, so wildly upset that you found yourself at a loss for words. "how can you say that, any of that, when i'm the one that's not good enough for you?"

despite yourself, you cracked a smile at his overzealous need to change the narrative. "don't say that just to make me feel better.”

"i'm not.” he frowned, his lips puckering as he held your cheeks, elongating each of the letters. "you're beautiful. inside and out. in a way that i can never be." he kissed the tip of your nose, smiling as you swatting him away. "i'm certainly not funny to everyone, either. i make you laugh only because i love you, and i want to see you smile." he kissed you between the eyebrows, then, this time laughing when the skin wrinkled there. "and i'm smart because i have to be, because i don't want to see the people i care about get hurt if i can do something to stop it." his expression softened at your glossy eyes, the way you slowly melted under his touch.

you let the words sink in, each one slowly chipping away at the doubt that had clouded you. dazai had never looked at you with anything but adoration in his eyes, something he spared for you and you alone, even when you felt unworthy of it.

"you could have anyone you wanted, osamu,” you said, the honest truth twisting something deep within you. “anyone at all.”

"funny," he said, tilting his head as he studied you carefully. "i've always thought the same thing about you."

₊˚⊹♡ CHUUYA

“i’m home,” you heard chuuya shout down the hall. he was always careful to alert you of his presence every time he returned, never wanting you to fear that his enemies had found his home, leaving you vulnerable.

you sniffed, some form of acknowledgement as you swirled the alcohol in the glass, pouring it down your throat. it burned on the way down, a buzz already at the edge of your mind, your thoughts slowing as you it sank into your bloodstream.

chuuya didn’t say anything more as he came into the room, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his hat and coat. there was a healed cut running down his left arm, a cluster of bruises on his left.

even though he’d gone on a dangerous mission earlier, he’d come home relatively unscathed.

despite your endless relief, it only did more to fuel your insecurities, the knowledge that compared to all his infinite glory, you were a lackluster, powerless no one.

you poured another glass, unbeknownst to the fact that chuuya was speaking to you at all.

“what?” you turned, the word slurring; you weren’t even sure what set of syllables had left your lips at all.

chuuya made a face as your head plopped down on the table, your eyes red from the tears you'd expelled. “is something wrong? it’s a little early for this, isn’t it?”

you stared at him, and though he was amused, you turned away, feeling the sour emotion of doubt lodge deep in your chest. “no,” you said in a small voice, turning away from chuuya.

he paused for a moment, his expression sobering before he took the seat next to you. chuuya held out a gloved hand, one that you could only see from your peripheral vision. “you expect me to believe that?”

“nothing’s wrong, chuuya,” you muttered, as sharply as you could in your current state. your arm grew numb under the weight of your head, throat sore from your earlier sobs. “i’m fine.”

chuuya sighed and took the bottle from you. even as you protested, every inch of his expression was so caring and delicate.

“that’s how i know you’re not fine.” he ran a hand over your hair, flattening it as you looked up at him from under wet eyelashes. “please tell me what’s wrong. i don’t like to see you sad, baby.”

though you wanted desperately to keep your mouth shut, you were too drunk to hold in the words. you leaned into his touch, letting the tears roll down your cheeks once more as panic grew in chuuya's eyes.

“i just think you deserve someone better than me, chuuya."

his brow wrinkled, and he blinked twice before shaking his head, puzzled. “what?”

you buried your head further into your forearms, unable to look at him any longer. despite your embarrassment, your lips didn't stop moving, releasing every little secret you'd bottled up since you'd met him

“you deserve someone you don’t have to worry about every time you’re away." you swallowed. "i’m not strong like you, chuuya, i don’t have any special ability that can save me from enemies." you thought of all the people he worked with, all of the ability users in the city that could compliment him so perfectly. "someone out there is a perfect match for you… i just don't think it's me.” you looked back at him, with teary, red eyes, right into his own sullen ones.

he scoffed, but his expression was gentle, open, fingers curling delicately around your wrist. "well, you're certainly wrong about that."

you curled yourself into a ball, resisting him, looking down at his knees instead of his eyes.

“none of that matters to me. i love you just the way you are. even if you were the strongest in the whole world, i'd still do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you rubbed your cheeks, frowning as chuuya began reeling you in, grabbing you by the wrist to tug you onto his lap. “chuuya..." you said, hesitating as he planted you on his thighs, lips pulled tight in complete sincerity as he spoke his next words.

“i don’t care about anyone else. they could have all the power in the world, and it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t be you." he held you steady, one hand on your hip as he let the other caress your cheek gently. "i'll never want anyone else, okay?"

you nodded, though the sadness didn't dispel so easily from your face.

chuuya sighed, offering you as much of a smile as he could, even though he knew it wouldn't be a magic solution to cheer you up. "i'll remind you every day if i have to."

₊˚⊹♡ FYODOR

your hands curled in the water, tracing patterns throughout the soap and bubbles as your thoughts consumed you. it was just after midnight, but you'd woken up alone in your bed, full of thoughts that seemed determined to convince you that you'd never be enough.

though you'd gotten better at dispelling those dismal emotions, they dug their claws in deep this time. you'd crawled out of the cold sheets and drawn yourself a bath, hopeful that it would clear your mind.

fyodor had disappeared, and you weren't sure if he was in another room or if he had left your home completely.

it was quiet, but that told you little; he was always so silent, sneaking up on you with footsteps that never made a sound.

the door creaked open not a moment later, as if he had heard your thoughts. you didn't look over at him, but he sat beside the tub, his slender fingers curling over the porcelain.

"is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft in the dim bathroom, illuminated only by candles and moonlight. "it's late."

you hummed, and contemplated voicing your thoughts at all. but you were half asleep, drowsy, and it didn't seem to matter what you said. the feelings would still be there, whether you voiced them or not.

still, you hesitated. "am i enough for you?"

you spared him a glance, and his eyes were wide, surprised by your simple question. a brief pause, before he answered, almost gently. "have i made you feel that you are not?"

you leaned your head against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, the cracks in the paint, the uneven texture.

"i sometimes wonder if i'm just a hindrance to your plans." you breathed, thoughtful as he waited for you to finish. "i feel that maybe you'd be better off without me."

fyodor said nothing as you laid in the water, the temperature dropping with each passing minute. quietly, he discarded his clothes, keeping his eyes on you as he climbed into the tub to sit across from you.

he whispered your name once, but you remained silent, breathing in and out, trying to calm your mind.

"would you look at me?” fyodor asked, and the softness in his words was enough.

you sat up, pulling your legs closer to make space for him, even though he held your calf, drew himself towards you instead.

"you know that i do not make decisions lightly, and yet, i decided to share my heart and soul with you." he caressed your knee before letting his hand fall into the water, tracing patterns around your shin. you shivered. "do you really think i would have devoted my time to you if i ever intended on letting you go? if i didn't need you?"

"i know." you frowned, fully aware that it was true, to the deepest part of your soul. still, there was an ache in your mind, one that wouldn’t just go away with his pretty words. "but i can't help the way i sometimes feel."

fyodor smiled, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners. "i know," he said, and when he had you close, he dipped his head to kiss your bare shoulder. "but you do not need to hide that from me. i am here for you, always." he squeezed your hand. "i apologize if i am not always the best at showing that."

his touch was cold in the exposed bathroom air. "and when you achieve your goals, what will become of me? will you dispose of me, along with everyone else who stops being of used to you?"

"of course not." a laugh escaped him, like your question was unfathomable. "even then, you will be right by my side." he held your jaw tenderly as he forced you to look deep into his eyes. "you are mine forever, don't you understand? just as i am yours.”

dash is a teensy bit dead rn, but i want to let this one go so i can focus on my other wips <3. this was so nice to write though :))

[andvys]

Hi!

Could I please request a virgin-Eddie cumming just from eating reader out. Maybe she complains to him that no guy is able to do it right and he's like "well, teach me and I'll do it right for you!" and it ends with him cumming because he enjoys it so much :)

You can have my everything E.M.

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! smut, virgin!Eddie, cunnilingus, idiots in love, friends to lovers

Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Note: I know that there's a few virgin!Eddie imagines out there, I haven't read many but if this one is any close or similar to another one, please let me know and I'll change it right away

Word count: 3.5k+

stranger things masterlist

-

Eddie had noticed that there was something off about you lately, after yet another unsuccessful date a few weeks back, you finally gave up on trying to find the right guy. As much as he hates seeing you so sad and unhappy, he can’t help but feel relieved that you did. He always hated it, having to see you get all excited about the dates, having to watch you get ready, even helping you get ready, helping you pick out outfits for dates with other guys, when he wants it to be him.

You tell him about the dates, he gets every detail– well, not every single one. There are barely any secrets between the two of you but there still are certain things that you don't share with each other. His feelings for you are the biggest secret he kept from you and he doesn't plan on ever revealing them, he would never risk losing you.

There are things you don’t tell him, you don’t tell him about what you do with the guys, you don’t tell him whether you kissed them or not, you don’t tell him if you have slept with them or not– he doesn’t know why, but he does wonder -- do you not tell him because you secretly know about his feelings and want to spare him of the things that might break his heart or is it because you are too embarrassed to talk about these things, feeling scared that he might judge you? Another part of him wonders if you do anything with these guys at all– he hopes you don’t but the hickeys he saw on your neck before, proved otherwise. It filled him with jealousy and rage, it made his skin burn and his eyes too. He hated them, he hated every one of those guys that could touch you.

He knows he could treat you better than any of those pricks ever could, even with his lack of experience, he could do so much better than them. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he finally shuts his notebook and throws it on his bed.

You look up at him from your magazine, raising your brows at him, “hm?” 

“What’s wrong?” He repeats as he scoots closer to you, “you’ve been weird for days now.” 

You furrow your brows a little, glancing down at the magazine, you press your lips together into a straight line, for a moment you are silent as you get lost in your thoughts. Eddie uses your distraction to admire you.

Here you are, sitting on his bed, wearing his shirt, like you do every weekend when you stay over, like you’re his girl. 

“You’ve been really frustrated and snappy lately,” he adds as he thinks about all the times you have snapped at anyone who even looked at you the wrong way– usually it were people like Jason and his friends or some of the mean girls from the cheer squad. 

“Snappy?” You ask, looking up, your eyes meet his again.

“Yeah, which is fine, I guess you’re going through some stuff right now,” he shrugs, “but I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything.” 

You know you can but there are things that you can’t talk to him about. For some reason, it feels wrong. 

“I-I know,” you mumble nervously. 

Eddie furrows his brows, he tilts his head a little as he takes in the sight of your flustered expression. You finally close the magazine and place it on the nightstand. 

“Did something happen on the last date you went on?” He asks, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice, “did he hurt you?” 

You shake your head and pull your knees up to your chest, “no, he didn’t hurt me.” 

He nods, relaxing a little. Eddie might be jealous whenever you go on dates but he is also worried about you, what if you get hurt? He doesn’t know what he would do if you did get hurt.

“Was he mean?” 

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head as you grow even more flustered. You want to tell him but then you would step into new territories and the first moments would definitely be awkward and it’s Eddie, your best friend, your ‘partner in crime’ as he likes to call it, he is your childhood friend but he is also more than that. Eddie is the one you want, Eddie is the one you love. 

You know that he doesn’t feel the same, that’s why you would never bother telling him about your feelings. And that is why you have been trying to get over him, trying desperately but nothing works, you can’t get him out of your mind and you never will but you know that someday, you will have to watch him fall in love with someone that isn’t you, you will have to hear stories about his successful dates and just the thought of it is enough to shatter your fragile heart. 

Eddie keeps pestering you about the date that you went on weeks ago, he keeps asking questions, he keeps pushing you as though you aren’t frustrated enough already, frustrated in every way. 

As he keeps poking your side and joking around, asking you the silliest questions, you finally snap. 

“None of them make me feel good!” You exclaim, interrupting him, “none of them know how to touch me right! None of them know how to make me…. come,” you whisper the last word as you start blushing. 

His eyes widen and he instantly shuts his mouth, his cheeks grow red as he processes your words. First he gets jealous after finally getting the confirmation that you do have sex with them, then he gets mad, how dare they touch you and not make you feel good? Then he gets curious. 

“You fuck them?” He asks you bluntly. 

You give him a side eye, not feeling brave enough to look into his eyes yet, “no, just hands and mouth stuff.” 

He clenches his jaw, humming as he nods. 

“A-And none of them made you… you know, cum?” He asks, smirking a little when you glare at him. 

“No, no they didn’t.”

And there are two reasons for that. 

One, they are not Eddie and two, they don’t know what the hell they are doing. You are more successful when you touch yourself. 

Eddie stares at you, getting lost in his thoughts. 

He thinks about touching you, all the time. He thinks about what it would be like to feel your bare skin against his, what it would feel like to have you under him, what it would feel like to kiss your lips, to make you feel good, to taste you, to hear your beautiful moans as he makes you cum on his fingers, on his tongue, on his dick. 

“I could make you cum,” he blurts out without thinking. 

You snap your head towards him, eyes widening as you look into your best friend’s pretty eyes. His cheeks are flushed and he seems to be flustered by his own words, yet he straightens his back and looks confidently into your eyes, “I could make you feel so much better than any of them ever could.” 

“What– Eddie?” You mumble. 

Your heart starts racing as you look at him, he is nervous, you can see it but he is genuine about it, he isn’t playing with you. 

Eddie puts his hand on your bare thigh, he blinks, ignoring the racing heart in his chest, “i-if you tell me what to do, I promise, I will make you feel good.” 

Your heart flutters and so does your stomach. Eddie is everything you think about when you touch yourself at nights. Just the thought of him kissing your skin and touching you the way you’ve always dreamed about, makes you press your thighs together. 

“W-What do you mean, if I tell you to?” You ask, curiously. 

You were always convinced that he had been with other girls before, that he touched them, that he had sex with them.

Eddie isn’t embarrassed to admit it, just a little flustered, “I haven’t, you know..” he shrugs, rolling his eyes, “come on, sweetheart. You know I haven’t fucked anyone, I’m a virgin– you’d know if I wasn’t, I tell you everything.” 

Yeah, he does tell you everything but you thought that he might’ve kept that from you, just like you kept things from him. Yet the thought of Eddie being a virgin surprises you– he is so beautiful, so attractive, so sexy– who wouldn’t want him? 

But Eddie doesn’t want just anyone, he wants you. 

“You’ve never?”

He shakes his head, “no, sweetheart.” 

“Why not?” 

He shrugs, not wanting to tell you the truth, not wanting to mess it up with the girl he loves.

“Don’t ask so many questions,” he mumbles as he squeezes your thigh, “do you want me to make you feel good?” 

You nod your head slowly as you stare at him with wide eyes.

How did you both get here?

Eddie’s heart jumps in excitement when you whisper a small ‘yes’. You want it, you want him. 

“Tell me what to do,” he whispers as he bravely leans in to kiss your cheek, “so I can make you feel good.”

There was always more than just friendship between the two of you, it was so clear to everyone but the two of you. Eddie was so focused on his feelings, he never paid attention to the way you looked at him, to the way your touch always lingered, to the way you put him above everything and everyone.

You place your hand on his shoulder and look into his eyes, taking deep breaths, you move closer to him, you notice the way his breath hitches in his throat when your eyes flicker to his lips. He raises his hand to cup your cheek, placing his thumb on your bottom lip, he swallows nervously, staring at it for a long time before he looks back into your eyes. 

There have been so many moments where you have gotten this close, when you gave him a kiss on the cheek the other day, you stopped to look at his lips and he swore, his heart leaped to his throat, when you poked at his sides and started tickling him, he grabbed your waist and fell back on his bed, with you on top of him and then you both stilled and your nose bumped into his, your lips almost touched -- he was dying to feel your lips on his.

There was always a sense of longing between the two of you but neither of you were brave enough to make the first move, the fear of rejection was too big. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Eddie whispers shakily, his heart starts pounding in his chest and he knows that this might be something that you don’t want but you are about to step into new territories, things won’t be the same after this anyways– he will pretend that they are for your sake, if you want it. 

“Really?” You ask with widened eyes. 

He smiles a little, “yes.” 

“Me too.”

“C-Can I kiss you?” 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He wastes no second to connect his lips with yours, a gasp makes his way up to his throat when he finally feels your lips on his. You softly wrap your arms around him and pull him against you, chest to chest, you hold each other tightly as you experience your first kiss with each other. Eddie still holds your cheeks, humming into the kiss when you deepen it. 

Your lips feel so perfect against his, even better than he had imagined. It makes his heart flutter and his skin tingle, fire burns in his stomach and his desire for you grows bigger and bigger. 

You moan into his mouth when he grabs your waist and pulls close to him before he lays you down, without breaking the kiss, he moves on top of you. 

Years and years of yearning and pining is over, finally, he gets to feel you, he gets to feel what it’s like to kiss you, to touch you, even if just for tonight. He takes his time, opting to explore your body with his hands and lips first. 

His erection is growing, his jeans get uncomfortably tight but he pays no attention to that. He takes your shorts off after a while, sliding them down your legs slowly. 

When he hears your whine and sees the desperate look in your pretty eyes, he can’t help but wonder, is this real? He wanted this for so long and now he just got it? Just like that? 

“Eddie,” you whisper as he gets lost in your eyes while his hands grip your hips tightly, “touch me,” you plead, placing your hands on top of his and moving them up to your panties, “please.” 

This is real. Very real. 

He leans down again, pecking your lips and your cheek, making his way down to your jawline, he kisses you gently as he plays with the thin material of your black underwear. He moves your hair out of the way, attaching his lips to your neck, he begins to suck on your skin. 

You moan again, putting your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers move through his curls, “please,” you whine. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he whispers against your skin as he switches between sucking on your skin and kissing it. His other hand slides up to your chest, touching your boobs for the first time, he groans, “I can’t wait to taste you.” 

“Do it, please, Eddie!” 

How can he deny you of your wishes when you sound so pretty and desperate? 

He gives you a cocky smirk, showing you confidence as though he isn’t nervous and freaking out that the girl of his dreams is begging to be touched by him. He gives you another short kiss on the lips, he places his fingers on your clit, feeling your wetness seeping through the thin material. A moan leaves his lips and his dick twitches in his pants. He begins to move his fingers in circles, rubbing your clit over your panties. 

“T-That feels good, Eddie.” 

Pride rushes through him when he sees your face scrunching up in please. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah– oh!” 

He moves your panties to the side a little so he can touch you, properly. The truth is, he has no idea what he’s doing but he reads magazines– ones that he can learn something from, ones that teach how to touch a girl, how to make her feel good, he even bought condoms, just in case. 

Just in case you finally give him a chance. 

You are the only girl that he wants. 

Eddie ends up taking your panties off completely, throwing them on the ground next to your shorts, he keeps kissing your neck as he rubs your wet pussy, sliding his fingers through your folds, groaning and moaning at the feeling of how soaked you are, for him. He moves away from you to look at you, watching the way you take his fingers. 

He swears, he could cum just from hearing your moans but the sight of you grinding against his hand as he pushes his fingers into you for the first time does things to him, a feeling that he never felt before rushes through him. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot, sweetheart.” 

He is inexperienced, a little clumsy and unsure of his actions but he makes you feel good, nonetheless. He makes you feel something that no one ever made you feel before. Your skin is on fire, your heart is racing, your walls are clenching around his fingers, you can feel yourself dripping down on his sheets– you have never even been this wet before. 

Eddie watches you in awe, you arch your back in pleasure and look at him with big and pleading eyes before you look down at his hand, watching the way his ringed fingers slide in and out of you. 

“E-Eddie.”

“I wanna eat your pussy, baby,” he says with a whiny voice, “tell me what to do.” 

Your pussy clenches harder around his fingers, especially when you watch him settling between your legs, staring down at you in fascination. Without waiting for you to tell him what to do, he sticks his tongue out and licks your clit. 

“O-Oh my god– are you sure you need to be told what to do?” You moan, looking down at your best friend in shock. 

He nods against you, licking your clit even faster. 

“A-Ah! Shit, Eddie– keep doing that.” 

He moans at your taste and at the way you moan his name, at the way you grab his hair and pull at it. Eddie’s pants feel tighter and tighter, he gets more desperate, moaning louder against you, he sends vibrations through your body causing you to whimper. 

Your voice gets high pitched and shaky as you continue to guide him through it, telling him to replace his fingers with his tongue, he does it, he grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders as he dives his tongue into you and buries his face in your pussy, nudging your clit with his nose. 

He moans and whimpers just like you do, he enjoys this just as much as you do– if not more. He grabs your hips tightly, his cold rings, his wet fingers, dig into your skin, his curls tickle your inner thighs. Eddie drools all over you, saliva drips down his chin. 

His cheeks are flushed, he eats you out so desperately, at one point, you stop telling him what to do, he doesn’t even need to be told, Eddie is perfect. He is so lost in the pleasure, looking up at you with his pretty dark eyes, you see the smugness in them but also the desperation. 

You squeeze your thighs around his head and pull his hair tighter, he fucks you with his tongue and starts playing with your clit and as your moans get louder and you begin to see stars from the pleasure, you don’t notice that his moans got louder as well. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, goosebumps appear on your skin as you finally cum. Your body falls limply against his pillows, though you don’t loosen the grip on his hair just yet, whining at the feeling of his tongue lapping up all your juices. 

“Eddie,” you whine.

When he gently puts your legs down, he wipes the juices off his chin and smiles at your exhausted form. He crawls over you and leans down to kiss your cheek, “was that okay?” He asks as he lays down next to you, adjusting his pants uncomfortably. 

You open your eyes, still trying to catch your breath, you turn to look at him, “was that okay?” You scoff, “Eddie– no one has ever made me cum before– well except for myself.” 

His eyes widen and a smirk tugs at his lips, pride settles in his chest, “good,” he whispers, “I’d like to see you touching yourself.” 

You can’t help but giggle, though you slap his chest playfully and roll your eyes. You notice how flushed his cheeks are, how messy his curls are now from all your tugging, you finally notice the way he looks at you and the way he shifts uncomfortably, trying to adjust his pants. 

You take his hand, “c-can I suck your dick?”

The look in your eyes is so innocent, your touch is so soft– if you keep looking at him like that, his dick is gonna get hard again. 

“Uh– fuck, I would love to but uh– I kinda,” he stutters as his face grows red, “you know I–” he points to his groin. 

Your confused face transforms into one of understanding, your lips part in surprise, “y-you what? You came in your pants j-just from–”

He rolls his eyes, nodding, “yes, just from eating you out, sweetheart,” he admits. 

He enjoyed it so much, he didn't even need to be touched, just hearing you moan, tasting you and making you feel good threw him over the edge as well.

You giggle, placing your hands on his shoulders, you push him onto his back and straddle his waist, surprising him with your action. Instantly, his hands find their way to your hips and he stares up at you with big eyes. 

“That’s so hot, Eddie.” 

“I-It is?” 

You nod, “mhmm.” 

You lean down to kiss his cheek, “you’re hot,” you whisper as you brush his hair back to kiss his neck. 

His eyes flutter closed and a breathy moan falls from his puffy lips, “shit, baby,” he whimpers, “p-please tell me we can do that again.” 

Your lips are soft on his skin, your hands are on his chest, he can feel you grinding against his stomach a little as you continue to kiss him. 

“Please, that’s all I ever wanted,” you whisper. 

“R-Really?” 

“Yes.”

“You’re mine now, Eddie.” 

His heart could burst, a smile tugs at his lips. 

“Fuck yes, sweetheart,” he smiles, “I’m yours.” 

He grabs your face to make you look at him, “and you are mine.” 

You smile at him, “all yours, Eddie.” 

[bamboobooshark]

Hiiii I just found your page and omg I love your writing so much. I actually did get into an argument with my friend, and I deactivated one of my intas cuz of it (long and stupid story) but it was really comforting to read Logan wanting to coddle and comfort someone yk

You can ignore the request if it makes you uncomfortable, but do you think you can write something where the reader doesn't really know or understand what regression is or why they feel this way so they isolate when they feel childish or playful or start annoying people without realizing it and Logan who loves and cares for them starts to miss them and is like wtf and helps them.

Thank you for your writing I hope you have an amazing day.

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

𓂃 ࣪�� ִֶָ ☁️་༘ COMFORT & CONFUSION : 991 WRDS

<RATING : PG, VULENRABLE MOMENTS, CRYING>

A/N : Just a little note for Anon; I am so heavily greatful that my fic was able to bring you so much comfort. I hope you’re recovering well from what happened. Apologies for taking so long to get this out for you, I always get caught up in spilling and detailing my concepts that end up becoming full fics. I truly hope this fic is what you were hoping for <3 !!Warning for a pinch of angst and crying!!

You’ve been isolating yourself in your room since you woke up. You feel so confused with yourself, with your mind, with your feelings. You press your back against your headboard, legs crossed one on top of the other. You gently rock back and forth while struggling to understand how you’re feeling; why you’re feeling the way you do. Yeah, you’ve got a ton of energy right now. You feel like you’re letting your inner child express itself in your mind, yet you’re holding them in as best as possible. You’re terrified of annoying anyone by releasing those feelings, espically Logan. You bite and chew at your lips nervously as you rock a bit faster. Why? That’s the only question you can ask yourself right now. Over and over, your mind fills itself with nothing but confusion of why you feel like this, why you yearn to be so childish, why you’re scared of annoying Logan when he loves you unconditionally.

You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the man knocks on the door. “Everything alright in there, kid,” he asks with his face pressed to the wood. God, the way he calls you kid only makes these foreign feelings harder to suppress. You choke back your tears before responding. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feeling a little down,” you reply with a tone that’s involuntarily soft and childlike. Logan raises his brows at the way you speak to him. You’ve never kept yourself away like this, but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. You isolate yourself the moment you wake up, beg him to leave you alone, and then come out quiet and reserved. He continues to press because he misses you so damn bad. He’s willing to do absolutely anything to get you in his arms again. “Please tell me what’s wrong, bub. I promise I’m not going to be upset with you,” he pleads with the softest tone he can force out of his throat. “I mean, I’d be more upset if you didn’t trust me with whatever you’ve got going on,” he chuckles akwardly.

You wipe your tears before inviting him in. The second he realizes that you’re crying, his lips form a frown and his eyes give you a sympathetic gaze. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving, I swear,” he scrambles to reassure you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into his arms. You let your cries get thicker once you lean into his. He smells so fatherly. His large, calloused hands make your entire body shiver with comfort. Everything about him is sending an unknown, unfamiliar feeling that you’ve been yearning for. You can’t even begin to imagine what to call it, but your body allows you to relax under his touch. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. Tell me what’s up once you’re ready to,” he coos as his hands rub up and down your back. You nod against his chest, letting the thumping of his heartbeat soothe you.

You pull back from his embrace, but hold his hands in your own. His touch is what you’ve been needing. Scratch that, you’ve been needing Logan in general. You attempt to try and explain things, but you end up stammering and stuttering. “I’m sorry, Logan. I just — I don’t even know what to say,” you apologize while looking away from him. He squeezes your hands gently and sighs. “You don’t need to apologize, kid. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be. If I have to wait here for hours for you to get your thoughts together, I don’t mind. You know that, bub,” he tells you sincerely. You look at him and give him the best smile you can considering the circumstances.

You take a deep, shakey breath after a few minutes of silence before attempting to describe your feelings. “I’ve just been feeling like a child lately. I’ve had so much energy and excitement and joy for no reason. It’s so confusing and it’s scaring me Lo, it really is. I just want an answer,” you explain to him. His thumb rubs against your knuckles lovingly before he presses a silent kiss to your forehead. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. You’ve got such a big heart, kid. I need you to understand that you don’t need to be afraid to let those feelings loose around me. I’ll love you no matter what,” he promises while holding your face in his hands so you’re looking at him. You nod gently, eyes glossy and wide from the way he comforts you so paternally. “I understand,” you mumble back, letting that same childlike voice slip. Logan gives you a gentle smile, failing to hold back a snicker. “Well would you look at that. You sound so little, baby. It’s adorable,” he says while attempting to hold himself back from squeezing your face. You giggle softly and shake your head no. “It’s not adorable, Lo,” you protest. Your stomach knots as you allow yourself to slip into this pure, innocent state. As soon as Logan begins to coddle you further, that knot unties itself and becomes a flutter in your heart. “If you deny anything else I say, I’ll have to find a way to get back at you for it. You’re too damn cute to not accept that you are,” he playfully threatens. “C’mere you sweet thing,” he growls as he pulls you into his lap. “No! Let me go,” you giggle sweetly, squirming in Logan’s arms despite wanting to stay right where you are forever. “I’m not letting you go, kid. You’re mine. My sweet little thing that I’ll protect with my life,” he declares before starting to pepper your face with soft kisses. You can feel him smiling like an idiot against your skin from the sound of your giggles, the way you smile, and the warmth of your face caused by him.

[angelnthsnow]

The Party & The After Party

pairing: toto wolff x f!driver!reader

summary: after winning your first formula one race in your first year in the category, you don't think the day can get any better. fortunately, your boss has other plans for the night.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: age gap? it's never mentioned but it's there obvi, boss x employee, use of y/n, cursing.

author's note: i must say my friends have gotten me into formula one, but it's kinda hard paying attention to the cars when this man exists. i wrote this nonstop in the middle of the night, it's shorter than usual but i couldn't get the idea out of my head, so enjoy! i promise i'll post smth nfl related soon lol k bye!!

In your first year as the first female F1 driver, you had done the impossible. Standing on the 1st place of the Monaco Grand Prix podium, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you looked down at everyone who had ever doubted you. Years of resisting attacks, sexist remarks and the constant need to prove yourself, you felt like you could finally breathe. By your side, stood two of the greatest drivers the sport had ever seen, Lewis Hamilton, your teammate, in P2, and Max Verstappen, in P3.

Your eyes wandered through the vast crowd that chanted your name from below, searching for the man who had made it all possible, your boss, Torger Wolff, the first person who took you seriously. Being a woman with hopes of getting into Formula One was exhaustingly hard, but everything started to change when you won the F3 Championship, a few years ago.

Paul, your teammate at the time, had told you that a certain team principal would come to the race that day, and although you kept telling yourself to not get your hopes up, every single attempt to do so went downhill when you saw the Mercedes team principal walking through the paddock like he owned the place.

To you, Mercedes was everything. Besides being one of the most modern teams, you also realized soon enough that Toto was probably the most open-minded out of all the other TPs on the grid. It was sad, of course, having such a little percentage of people who would be happy to see a woman in a position that was so dominated by men, but still, it lit up a flame in your chest, a string of hope you clung onto whenever you felt like giving up your dream.

That day, with him on the bleachers as you drove fearlessly around Spa-Francorchamps, you won the F3 championship, putting you on a watchlist of drivers that could get into F2.

Ever since that day, the austrian had kept an eye on you.

He saw how fiercely you fought to have a place, to have a voice and to be heard in a space ever so dominated by the opposite sex, and it didn't scare him, not one bit, he admired it. When you stood on that podium earlier, he didn't even bother hiding a smile, taking pictures and videos and chanting your name with the rest of the team as Lewis and Max sprayed the ridiculously expensive champagne on your back as you laughed.

That's why today, hours after winning your first ever F1 race on your first year in the category, he still couldn't get off the high he was on. He had finally gotten the confirmation he so desperately needed, not because he didn't believe you could do it, but because he was eager to prove everyone else wrong, to rip the smugness out of every single man who told you you didn't belong there.

At least that's what he had told you earlier through the radio before the lights went out, prove them wrong. He just didn't know you fought to reprimand a sob as you tried to concentrate in the lights that stood just above the Albert 1st Boulevard.

Now, Toto's eyes scanned every single corner of Jimmy'z searching for you, only to find you on the dance floor, pornstar martini in hand as you swayed to the beats of Empire of The Sun's We Are The People.

You had a smile on your face that could lit up a whole room, and he couldn't be prouder. Soon enough, your eyes met his and you chuckled, making a peace sign to point at your eyes and then at his as the line got lost in your eyes blasted through the club's speakers.

Even at distance, you could see him rolling his eyes and chuckling at your playful gesture, but still, he came closer, until the only thing in his field of vision was the visibly drunk version of you.

"You look happy." he leans down and forward to yell in your ear, making himself heard even if though the loud music made it hard to.

You squirm at the proximity, but brush it off by taking another sip of your drink. "I'm on top of the world, Toto. I don't think I've ever been happier." You yell back and he resists the urge to fight back a smile, presenting you with his pearly whites.

As one of the neon lights hit your face, he's forced to take in all of you. The version of you you'd put up whenever he'd tell you he had an important meeting he needed you to attend, or whenever you were needed to put up a show, like today.

You wore a black strapless dress, the one you'd seen a few weeks prior to the Grand Prix at Elie Saab's display window while you were on your daily night walk through Monaco. It was mesmerizing, with a shimmery type of fabric that would definitely make sparks fly if a bright light shined over it. You had thought of buying it, for days, really, but decided against it because party dresses were never a much needed piece of clothing in your wardrobe. Well, that until you told Lewis about the dress, and when you arrived at your apartment a few hours after the race, there it was, on a hanger hanging on the curtain rods.

As much as your looks prevented Toto from thinking about anything else, he couldn't help but notice how huge your pupils were, so big that it felt like your iris' were long gone. That and the fact that your sclera had shifted from white to a more reddish color.

He shifted on his feet, unaware of how to proceed. Were you.. high? Was that even a thing between sportspersons? Deciding on it being a matter that shouldn't be handled in front of the city's most congested place as of today, he mutters a "come with me" in your ear, putting a hand on your lower back as he guided you away from the crowd.

When he finally stops, you find yourself in a more private, smaller room with a few sofas and armchairs. He then proceeds to ask you "You've taken something. What is it?"

You laugh at his sudden concern. The answer was clearly a big red yes written in all caps, but part of you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed at yourself. You had done it, yes, but now you felt sort of guilty, because the last thing you wanted was to damage his or the team's image. You shake your head, trying to to keep those thoughts away. It was just a party, a party for you, with only selected people being allowed in, it wasn't like you'd wake up to your name on the news.

"Come ooon.. don't be such a party pooper!" You slurred.

Toto was shocked by your reaction, part of him wanted you to celebrate as you wished, after all, you had just fulfilled a dream, but the other part, the responsible boss part craved an explanation, he didn't want you to cause any harm to your already fragile media image.

"Are you serious? You're the star of the entire team today! We have thrown a party just for you and you're getting off on drugs?" He says, lowering his voice on the last word as he crosses his arm.

"It's just a blunt, Toto. I swear I'm fine." Your laugh echoes throughout the small room as you grab his big arms, uncrossing them. "Don't get so serious on me." You look up at him through your lashes.

Toto gives you a stern look before a smirk creeps up on his face. The anger and seriousness fades away in an instant as he realizes the situation wasn't that serious. He sighs and looks at you with a sly, yet curious look. "How many? One, right?"

"Just one, sir." You say mischievously, holding your pinky finger up before kissing it to symbolize a promise.

Toto is taken aback as you kiss your pinky finger in a sarcastic manner, although he doesn't say anything. He looks at you with the same sly look as before. "I see... and have you done this before?"

"Who hasn't, duh?" You furrow your brows, flashing him a backward smile.

'He hasn't, of course. That's Torger Wolff we're talking about' you think to yourself as you look up at him. The soreness of your muscles and the pain of being on your feet for so long getting to you.

Sometimes it was kind of annoying having a conversation with your boss due to the fact that you had to look up the entire time, and countless were the times you found yourself with neck pain after hours of chatting. This conversation would surely be added to that imaginary countless list of yours, because even today, with high heels that could make you look six feet tall, he still looked way too big.

Toto chuckles before getting a playful look on his face. "Oh, really? I highly doubt the star of my F1 team has ever smoked a blunt before, although you do seem very knowledgeable about this." He moves closer to you, looking down at you as he speaks, his voice low and husky. You wondered if his neck ever went through the same problem yours did when you two talked, causing you to chuckle.

"I do?" You lift one eyebrow, narrowing your eyes. "Well, I must say.. the star of your precious F1 Team has done a lot, Mr. Wolff." It comes off more flirtatious than you intended, but you pay no mind to it. You try to take a step back, but end up slipping on the hem of your gown, the high getting to you later than ever.

Toto immediately rushes to you and catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"Is that so?" Toto says, his voice now raspy and face close to yours.

You exhale deeply, relief from not having made an absolute mess out of yourself filling your body. If you had fallen, your dress would probably be completely torn apart and headlines would have a field trip with it.

He is still holding you, his hands burning on your back.

"Yeah.." You close your eyes, getting away from Toto's embrace as you regain balance and straighten yourself.

Toto steps back as you do so, although he does want to reach out to hold you again. Instead, he settles for engaging on more double entendre conversations with you.

His eyes are full of admiration, your body is more visible in this dress than it has ever been, and he makes a mental note to thank Lewis for the gift. He recalls the moment you two shared a few minutes ago, the way you swayed and jumped with the music like you were the only person in that dance floor would never fail to amaze him.

"You truly do look like a notorious celebrity in this dress, don't you?" He finally says, a hint of shyness in his tone, although the look in his face is stern.

"You could thank your other driver for that." You joke, trying to hide the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach.

"I certainly will." he smiles, his gaze softening as his eyes meet yours. They're still red, but it starts to grow on him.

Looking at you like this, completely wasted, happy and carefree, he couldn't help but remember the afternoon you two had met, when he started to be so sure you'd be by his and Lewis' side on a race weekend one day.

Now, there you were, in front of him, with a trophy standing somewhere back in your apartment. "I'm so proud of you." he finally says, not because he thinks you should hear it, but because it's all he wants to say to you after today's events.

You look away from him shyly. You had heard it before, specially from him, but every single time felt like fireworks in your belly. Him being proud of you was capable of putting you on a whole another level, it was just another signal that you had made it, that you had proved you were capable, even to those who were always so sure you definitely were.

You try to hide a smile as you mutter a simple thank you, because in this state, visibly high and drunk, staring at the man who had made it all possible, it's all you manage to say.

He smiles back at you, and your mind almost short circuits when he steps closer, not stopping even when you can feel his breath close to your face. That's when you realize he's about to hug you, and you just let him.

It's genuine, simple yet abnormally meaningful. His big hands rest crossed on your lower back as he pulls you closer, making your cheeks rest on his suit covered chest. You almost feel like crying, because how could you not? You had it all now, a place in the sport you so desperately craved to have since you were a kid, a win, an amazing teammate and an even more amazing boss, who believed in you through your entire career.

"You've done it." He says quietly as if you're a wild animal that would run away at any abrupt movement or sound. "I can't even imagine how you feel."

On cloud nine, that was the most appropriate answer.

"It's like nothing I've ever felt." you say, arms hugging his chest. "Thank you for always believing in me, you have no idea how much you've done for me." you sniff, clearly on the verge of tears.

"It's nothing compared to what you deserve. You're one of the greats, Y/N. The whole world's gonna know you name." he says, causing the tears you so eagerly fought to keep off to fall rapidly on your cheeks. You sniff, opening your eyes to see that a small wet circle had formed on Toto's shirt.

"Shit, sorry." You laugh awkwardly as you take a step back, desperately trying to dry your tears with your fingers before they ruined your makeup too.

"Hey, it's fine." He steps closer again, bringing his thumb to your face as he continues your job of drying the tears you had shed. Once he's done, his hands linger there for a bit longer than they needed to, stroking your cheeks. You thank the Gods for whatever the hell he was on today. "You do look pretty when you cry, though I must say I prefer the way you look on top of a podium, with champagne drenched hair and a first place trophy in hand."

You roll your eyes, as if it was possible to fall even more in love with him. It had become stupid at this point, really. Clearly the two of you had something special, to say the least, going on, but none of you were courageous enough to come clean about this.

"You aren't a bad view from up there as well." You shoot back, earning a smile in return.

The shameless and obvious flirtation to whoever watched from outside continued for a few minutes, until Toto insisted that you should go back to your party, and although at this point you had decided to give up the celebrations to look at him for the rest of night, there he was, once again with his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd back to where he initially had seen you. Doesn't take long for you to get lost in the music, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Toto had excused himself to greet other team members and sponsors, fulfilling the ultimate boss role even at parties, and stealing glances from you every now and then while talking to someone.

A few drinks later, the club was getting more empty by the minute, the clock almost hitting 4:30 a.m. Your makeup was already lightly smudged, your black Louboutins long gone in the corner you once laughed with your friends. As you thanked the remaining people for coming, Toto showed up again, startling you as he came from behind, putting his right hand in your shoulder.

"Seems like the party has reached an end." he says, making you look up at him. His face was fairly red, and by the way he slurred his words, you could tell he was somewhat drunk. His hair was messier than earlier and the tie that was once a fancy bow was now untied, resting around his neck, a nice combination to his slightly unbuttoned shirt.

"Unfortunately. I hope you had fun, though." you reply, turning your attention to shake some of your guests' hands.

"It's always fun with you around." He says as he smiles to the same people shaking your hands.

You crookedly smile, turning around to walk to your table. As you do so, he follows.

"Do you need a ride? I saw you coming in with Bradley, but he already left," He watches you as you walk through the empty club, employees cleaning the floor of what was once the party of a lifetime. "guess parties aren't really his thing." He chuckles.

"I don't wanna make you take me home now, it's late and you're probably very tired."

"Oh, please, it's Monaco. Not like I'm going to be driving for hours." He replies, earning you a laugh. You and Toto lived pretty close to each other, but you'd drive past his building before getting to yours, so you truly didn't want him to make a huge detour just because of you.

"Fine," you smile, grabbing your sparkly clutch. "just please tell me you came with your 300sl roadster." You say and he chortles, rolling his eyes.

The Mercedes 300SL Roadster owned by Toto was probably one of your favorite cars in his collection. Hell, in anyone's collection. It's such an incredibly classy vehicle you couldn't resist its charm.

"I did." He says, and you let out a slightly loud yes! as he grabs your scarpins, laughing at your reaction. The way the smallest things were capable of making you happy always made him smile. Even after closing a multi-millionaire deal with your team, some things would never fail to make you excited, such as being driven home in a car you've always wanted.

The both of you start to walk towards Jimmy'z's exit in a different sort of haze, like the two of you were in your own little world together, laughing and exchanging inside jokes. The dry warm Monaco summer air hits you as soon as you step out, and soon the vallet comes driving Toto's car, opening the door for you to get in.

As the both of you get in, he starts driving, the sound of the car's engine echoing throughout Princesse Grace Avenue. Duke Dumont's Ocean Drive in the radio as your hair flies due to the speed in which Toto's driving. Now and then, he casually glances at you, smiling at the way you still manage to dance even when sitting on the passenger's seat.

Despite being a race weekend, the city seemed awfully quiet and empty at this time. Soon enough, he takes a turn and you're finally in Larvotto, which meant in a few seconds he'd be pulling up at your home. However, before he had the chance to, you saw the sun rising in distance, its warm light gleaming in the sea water.

"Toto, look!" you point to the horizon, and he slows the car down to follow your gaze. "It's so beautiful.."

"Indeed it is.." he says, and you can tell by his tone he's got a change of plans coming. When you realize, he's parking the car in the shore, exiting the vehicle to open the door for you. "Come on, let me give you a real after party."

You smile, because there was no way the day could get any better. You were sure you'd wake up later convincing yourself this had been a dream. Taking your hand, he pulls you out of the car, and after you close the door, he runs towards the sea, fingers intertwined with yours.

In this moment, you force yourself to forget about all of the implications and concerns that could come at you. In this moment, it was just you and Toto, not a Mercedes driver and the Mercedes' Team Principal. To anyone else who'd catch a glimpse of the scene, the both of you looked like stupid, reckless teenagers in love.

Sitting on the sand, you try to catch your breath, stomach hurting due to you not being able to stop laughing. You lay your head on his broad shoulders, hands holding his arm.

Suddenly, he feels the need to confess, "I'm always so happy when I'm around you" with the german accent getting heavier as it always did when he was drunk.

You smile, "Me too."

A beat, and then, "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

It comes lower than he intends to, but he's also never felt so nervous around someone as he does now. You thank the heavens for the fact that he's not looking at you, you look like a kid stupidly in love.

"You don't need to say that," you sigh. "you've already told me you're proud of me for today."

"I know. I'm not saying it because I feel the need for it to be said, but because I truly think that." he replies. "Ever since that day in Spa, you've proven to be an extremely fierce, fearless, wonderful driver and an even more amazing woman." You roll your eyes at his compliments. "I mean it, Y/N." He grabs your attention just by saying your name, making it all even more real. "Mercedes is extremely lucky to have you, and so am I." he looks at you, his face closer than ever as yours rest on his shoulder.

"You have me?" You say, looking at him through your lashes.

"I like to think I do. Do I?"

"Utterly." You giggle, your eyes glowing just by looking at him.

His hands go to cup your face, and the last thing you'd expect from him happens. At first, his lips brush over yours lightly, as if he's asking for permission, testing the waters to see if he's allowed to go further. When you don't protest, he deepens the kiss, sweeping you off your feet.

The both of you laugh, and you hide your now completely red face in his chest. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." you say, feeling his body hairs stand on end.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do this." he says, and you shed a tear on his partially shirt covered chest. "Are you crying?" He asks, and when he hears you sniff, he takes it as a yes. "Hey, don't cry. Look." he lifts your chin up, making you stare at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.

The sunrise looked like a piece of art, with pinkish and yellow tones coloring the sky. Toto puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You could now add having him at your list as well.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Joys of Storing | Yandere OCs

So many Yandere’s ploys work with drugging food or drinks that they offer to their love interests. But so few of them think about what their darling does when they don’t eat things immediately.

Maybe it’s because you're busy or you don’t like eating in front of people. Or maybe you cherish the food so much that you choose to save it for later. It’s such a habit that you’ll do that often so many people miss it.  It’s not bizarre that your admirer might miss it too,  that is until it interferes with their plans.

Yandere Ship || Vera 

Vera doesn’t need to drug you usually, considering he has access to hundreds of different methods to knock a human out. But with his new body plus his evolving software on his vessel, there are so many new things to try. Like finding out how many times he can get away with touching you in your sleep before you tell him to stop, you haven’t caught him yet. Or how many sips of water you’d like to have during the day and how often he can get it recorded. The point is he’d absolutely add something to a snack of yours just to see what you do. Would you blame him? Take the effects in stride? Ask for his synthetic body’s help? Sure his processors have already predicted a thousand different possibilities but he doesn’t care. It’s nothing compared to what’ll actually happen. And he’s right.

“(Y/n)...are you going to eat the dessert I personally made for you?”

“Yeah…just later.”

“Later? Later when?”

“When I’m ready!”

“Oh okay….Are you ready now?”

“No.”

Veras adores pestering you about plenty of other things and he’s terrible at being sneaky. He just gets so excited! He probably knows you are going to eat if later and he’s just glad you don’t realize how intricate his thermal cameras are. 

Yandere Witch || Rhiana

Rhiana is likely to fall prey to this little habit of yours. She’ll brew a potion something harmless to help her out. A sweet little concoction that will blend right into your drink to make you a tad less interested in your missing friend. It was just something to have you think of happy thoughts of her. But instead of drinking your drink when you came back from the bathroom, you just kept talking…and talking….and talking. Don’t get her wrong she adores the sound of your voice but she’s been waiting for you to take the first sip and it just hasn’t happened. 

“I just can’t believe these detectives have the nerve to blow me off the way they do–”

“Hmmm”

“--And I told them all of the loose ends about the case and they just wrote me off like I’m some weird asylum patient–”

“...MmmHmm yeah…”

“--I know this isn’t some thriller tv series but I can’t believe they didn’t take any of my leads into account–”

“Yeah..your drink?”

“Yeah, the straw’s cute right? Anyway how am I supposed to sleep when I know they’re not investigating–”

She’ll tiredly listen and watch you lick your lips as they dry out as you keep talking, figuring this is her only comfort to imagine wetting your lips with hers. She’ll make a mental note never to try getting you to consume something without a guarantee you’ll eat it right in front of her. She refuses to miss whatever cute faces you're going to make when the potion she put in kicks in. 

Yandere Cheerleaders + Yandere Football Team 

Both teams are great at teamwork, used to coordinating their actions to be a united front but there are still individuals. The individuals are interested in just a few pictures at your most vulnerable. Or it’s about getting more than the privilege of a shoulder to sleep on at the next party. Either way they’ve distracted the captains and the rest of the team just long enough to gift you the fated red solo cup for the night. They chat with you believing that as a participant in the social atmosphere, you’d take a sip from your drink just like they have. But you haven’t. For a football player, this gets all so nerve-wracking, in the past, they’d seen their teammates do this exact thing to kick off a night of humiliation and fun. Of course, that’s not the plan for you but you seem fairly content with just holding the cup as you lightly bop to the music. For a cheerleader they're almost tempted to outright shove the cup past your perfect+ lips. Things always go their way so it’s upsetting that you just won’t crumple right into their waiting arms.

“You haven’t drunk anything at all (Y/n)...go ahead and have a sip.”

“Oh, I’m just not thirsty.”

“You sure? One taste can’t hurt. I promise I’m a good mixer.”

“Hm, and I bet you’ll mix well with the trash in the compactor.”

“C-captains!” 

“(Y/n), how about you and I take a quick drive. This party’s about to get a whole lot more violent rowdy.”

The captains likely already knew about this little niche of yours and they’re grateful it just so happened to work in their favor this time. Usually, they’ll spend their dates trying to decide when and how is the best time to guarantee you eat their gifts right in front of them. But until they can figure it out they’ll take it upon themselves to punish everyone who isn’t aware. 

Yandere Cat Warrior || Ferrin

Ferrin as a Cat Warrior considers himself far above poisoning of any kind. He’s a warrior! He needs nothing but his sharp wit and imposing claws to seal the fate of his enemies. That being said since he’s made himself a companion of yours+ your magnificent guide he’s had quite a few urges. He really can’t help the urge to sink his canines into your neck when he’s cuddling with you in your tent. But nibbling only does so much for his feline instincts; the urge to mark his territory becomes unbearable when you turn down his more intimate advances. More often than not resulting in marking you another way Ferrin suddenly has quite an interest in cooking.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Later.”

“Later. Later? LATeR! That’s not happening!”

“I don’t want to eat now, back off. I also don’t want to put you in a chokehold again today.”

He’s just so irritating you’re not ingesting his creation…apart of him, he departed with so he could mark your existence as his own. Sure he scents you every other minute of the day but a good cat warrior should want for nothing less than the best.

[solar4seekstron]

New Recruit

TFRescue Bots!Heatwave x Cybertronian!Femme!Reader

Introduction Movie/Series Oneshot Masterlist

Content: 16+, Heatwave is a bbg in this because he’s my bbg <3

TW/Tags: Reader is adorable, mention of gender transition, couple characters ate homophobes, heatwave and reader are being school crushes to each other. Better love story then i did lol

Notes: We all know Hightide and Optimus are good friends so Heatwave is pretty young. At least in here if I’m wrong. So how cool and interesting would it be if reader was Hightides daughter but she chose to be neutral and just visited the Rescue Bots to check up on them. But ends up falling in love? Hehe. Reader is a couple inches shorter then Heatwave.

It was like any other day for the Burns. The Rescue Bots doing their usual job while Heatwave decided to one day go out on his own.

The city already knew about him and the others being alien robots.

So driving around and people waving at him when they passed by was still something he was getting used to.

So imagine his surprise when he sees a femme but.

A femme bot who had no insignia of Autobot or Decepticon. A bright smile on her dermas while giggling at what a lady with her child was saying.

Yes, he was staring at you with an open intake out of mostly shock and surprise.

You had a few good scratches in your frame. You had a long sword in the holder on your hip. Your frame is bulky but also slim at the same time.

He can tell you’re both strong and fast. Your colors a bright red mixed with green. Somehow making it work.

He stared at you from behind one of the large buildings. It was a good distance since you were at the beach.

A bright smile on your dermas even when you waved goodbye to the woman and her child.

You pulled your mouthguard and visors back on. Which made you look a little intimidating. You start to walk towards the city.

Heatwave got fully behind the building. Feeling his spark race a little.

He then looked down when he noticed a couple staring up at him. The man with his husband then chuckles before speaking.

“Don’t worry. I got scared and nervous too when I saw my first love.” The man said turning to his husband at the last word.

The husband smiling. He too speaking. “You got this buddy.”

The couple then walked away. Heatwave just watched them walk away while remaining still. He then looks forward with wide optics while his mind races.

Both were unsure of what the two meant while at the same time understanding what they meant. He got a bit lost in his helm until someone poked his cheek gently.

“Hello?” You asked casually.

Making him flinch and back up with his arms and cervos up ready to fight.

You then put your cervo to your chin. Your other cervo was on your hip while your mask and visors remained on.

S smirk of course under your mask. Heatwave then since stood a bit straighter before soon gathering himself together. Placing his cervos on his hips nervously as he cleared his throat before speaking.

Only for you to beat him to it.

”You must be the one called Heatwave. Correct? Name’s Y/N. You might’ve met my Sire Hightide already?”

You said casually. Heatwave was taken aback a little. “Uhh.”

He looked you up and down. You’re his sparkling?? He thought to himself.

You let out a soft chuckle that caught his attention once more. “My Carrier always had a taste for “larger bots” if you know what I mean?”

You continued. Before looking around then back at him.

Heatwave just blinked. You tilted your helm. “So, was I correct. Heatwave?” You were about to poke his cheek again until his cervo held your wrist.

Catching you by surprise a bit.

He cleared his throat once more before finally speaking. “Yes, I am Heatwave. And if you are Hightides er- sparkling.

How come you two look nothing alike? Besides optic colors.

He kept holding your wrist while you just stared at him. You let out another chuckle. “Well, you see heatwave.” You politely pulled your wrist away.

”It’s called a transition.” You started to walk towards the base. Already know thanks to Optimus. Heatwave realized this and started following you. Standing in front of you up to when you finished talking.

”I was once a big and bad mech just like my sire. But primus was it tiresome to just be that. It never felt right anyway. So changed up to what made me more comfortable and do what I do. Which is fight when I need to and travel to where ever boss bot needs me to go.”

Heatwave spoke. “So that’s why you….oh. I- I’m sorry I-“ You interrupted.

”Now what are you sorry about? I’d say my new look is pretty great. Wouldn’t you say?”

You said the last sentence while both your visors and mouthguard came off.

You looking at him with soft optics. Heatwave felt himself almost blush. Before turning his helm away and his cervo covering his face as he spoke. “N-nothing. Is there a reason you’re here? Like actual? I-I mean uh.”

“As usual when Prime is too busy, he’ll send a bot to come help out the Rescue bots whenever he can. Which I’m sure is a constant thing for you and the others.”

You said in a bit more of a serious tone. Heatwave responded.

“Yeah, so you just visiting or will…?” You let out a soft chuckle. Giving him a warmer smile.

“Like me already hm? We’ll see. I’ll be staying for a few days if that’s alright. Not sure if I’ll see Hightide while I’m here. But we’ll see.”

You said the last part with a bit of discomfort. Heatwave raised an optic ridge before realizing why you said it like that. You noticed and let out a deep chuckle.

“I’m a neutral. Never wished to join whomever. We’ll all end up at one place at the end of one day at some point. Something my sire wasn’t too happy to hear long ago.”

Heatwave just stared at you. Then gets an idea. Slowly he placed a cervo on your shoulder.

A small smile on his dermas. speaking once more.”Well, I’m sure the team will be happy to meet you. Even if it’s the first time.”

This made you feel a little better. You glance down at the ground for a moment before looking back at him.

A small blush appeared on his cheeks. he turned away again and let out a deep chuckle.

“We should start heading to the base now. It will be dark soon.”

You just nodded when he looked back at you.

You both walk over to the base. Getting to know each other along the way. He then helps introduce you to the others.

—————————————————————————

A couple of months have gone by since then. You’d help with missions. You and Blades got along very well. Between then when you met Heatwave.

Chase seemed to like you because you’d watch those comedy shows he likes. And Boulder..

You two were pretty chill.

One day though. While you and Heatwave were hanging out in the base as the others were out for patrol.

Both you and Heatwave sitting on the couch. Having finished speaking to Optimus on the TV earlier about your mission.

You sat casually and more like a typical lady would. Your cervos on your lap while you watched this action movie Cody wanted you both to check out.

Something about two witches becoming friends. The songs were good you’ll admit.

There was some good distance between you both. You kept watching with a smile. Not noticing the glances Heatwave would give to you.

His cervos were originally on his lap before sitting on the couch on his sides.

Your smirk grows a bit wider. Yes, you had a small crush on the guy. And thought why not give this relationship a try. Maybe he likes you back.

Casually, well as best as you can. You placed your cervo a bit close next to his own.

His optics constantly glancing from the TV back to his and your cervo. He tried thinking fast. Maybe starting up a conversation will calm his nerves.

”So uh, what do you think of Griffen rock? Pretty nice to live at.” He turned his helm towards you. You then look at him.

“Yes, I really like it here. Optimus never told me how entertaining it can be when hanging out with the bots. Along with how kind the humans of this planet are.”

You continue to glance at Heatwave. “I might even start calling this my new home. If your bots will have me?”

Heatwave rubbed the back of his helm as a small smile appeared on his dermas.

”We’d….”He hesitated. Looking at your cervo next to his. And so with a deep breath. His cervo went over your own gently. Looking into your optics once more as he said.

“We’d love to have you stay with us.”

You faced him fully. Your smile grew wider as you both just stared at each other, both with smiles on your dermas.

After what felt like minutes was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the alarm.

Causing you both to stand until you both got a call through the comm by blades.

”Sorry for the alarm guys. But uhh we have a Decepticon issue in the city.” You and Heatwave looked at each other. Heatwave then responding. “We’re on our way.!”

You both making it into the city together.

Soon you both see what appears to be a pink decepticon. Wait is that? Oh no. You thought to yourself with an annoyed expression.

Standing there fighting against the others while the humans evacuated was no other Glowstrike.

A femme you weren’t too happy to see. Your visors and a mouth guard soon on. Heatwave glanced at you while his fists were up. He then asked.

“Old pal of yours?”

”Something like that.” You responded. She was able to easily put the others down with causality. That is until she noticed you and Heatwave.

Making her way over. You then spoke, only loud enough for Heatwave to hear.

”Heatwave let me handle her. I’ll be fine but you won’t. She always has a trick up her sleeve.” He glanced at you as he responded. “Y/N what are you talking about? I can’t just leave- “

He’s interrupted by the pink femme.

”My my I’ll admit. Having all these mechs to yourself on this island makes me a bit jealous. Too bad you have them much longer femme.”

Good, she doesn’t recognize you. Heatwave was a bit confused. “Y/N we can take her, I’ve seen you fight before!”

”Y/N?” She looked at you confused. Then recognize your optics. Her expression soon turned angry. “YOU! So this is where you went?! And why do you look like that!?” You just rolled your optics.

”I got a makeover. To look better than you!” You ran throwing in the first punch. She didn’t block it in time. You then yelled telling Heatwave.

“Heatwave call for Bee. Tell him one of his Decepticons got here.” He nodded ding say while you kept Glowstrike down. Luckily her being surprised seeing you caught her off guard.

She started to yell slurs and tried to get out of your grasp. But you had a strong grip like you did before your transition.

Heatwave calls Bee while he puts her in cuffs and this neck cuff to weaken her.

You both waiting for Bee and one of his team members to come get her. You then help the other up. Boulder and Chase heading back to base.

She did hit them pretty hard. Blades shooting to stay so he can see Bee.

As your three wait. Having knocked out Glowstrike. Heatwave started speaking, his voice full with a little bit of concern.

”So..if you don’t mind me asking. How did you and this femme know each other?”

Your visors and mouth guard go back so your face shows. You then spoke to him with your sweet tone as always.

“We were uhh…exs before my transition. She too was into bigger bots..” You giggled nervously. Heatwave just stared at you with a soft smile.

”She… didn't wish to change her ways after the war.” You let out a small sigh. “Pretty much.”

G

You looked away for a moment unsure of what to say. Heatwave's smile went away as he looked away as well. Until he noticed blades with an angry expression at him.

Blades then gestured towards you for Heatwave to do or say something. Being the wingman that he is.

Heatwave took in what the humans said a deep breath. His face shows determination as he turns to face you fully.

“Y-Y/n I know it’s been only a couple of months. But I was w-well wondering if you’d.” He let out a groan. You have turned to face him as well. Your optics connect once more.

”I-I wish to ask if you’d like to.” He’s then interrupted by a booming voice. “Well, well look at who decided to come to my island!”

Hightide yells in a not-so-excited tone. Walking out of the water so casually. You, Heatwave, and Blades looking at Hightide's direction. Heatwave noticed your expression.

You were trying to keep it together as you crossed your arms.

Hightide made his way with his usual frown when he looked at you. Getting close enough once he spoke once more.

”Let me guess, Optimus sent you here to help out the Rescue Bots. Out of all the bots.” You remained silent. Hightide only got more upset. “Still giving the silent treatment. Something a part of your true self as well?-“

”That’s enough Hightide. They’re here to help us out. Is there an actual reason you’re even up here?” He stood fully next to you. You glanced at him a little surprised.

But a small smile soon formed on your dermas while Hightide then spoke.

“Just had to see how much smaller my sparkling decided to make himself. I see as small as his carrier.” His words hurt you. Though you did your best to not show it,

Heatwave only got more and more angry. Talking over Hightide with a more angry tone.

“You don’t speak to her like that! She is a femme and you should respect that!” Hightide was taken aback. “If you have such a problem with her being here with us to help out.

Then take it up with Optimus Prime!”

Hightide was confused. “I never said anything about-“ Heatwave has made his way to stand in front of Hightide. His voice was rougher showing his anger. “Take it. Up. With. Optimus.”

Hightide just stared down at him before looking at you. Then looking back at Heatwave. Letting out a huff after a moment and turns back.

Walking over back to the water without saying another word to you. You watched as Heatwave turned around and walked back to you and Blades.

Blades having a fan moment. That’s when Bee and Strongarm finally arrived to take away Glowstick.

You and Heatwave remain quiet with each other. At first, he thought you were maybe mad at him. But when he glanced at you while Bee and Blades didn’t flirt with each other.

Heatwave noticed a smile on your dermas. You were looking at him before looking back at the others with a smile.

All that’s needed is to tell Heatwave that he did good. The day carried on as it days every day after that. And that there was just a good start to your friendship taking the next step to become even more.

This was going to be a good year for you both.

This is SO fun to write. I can honestly see Heatwave being a little nervous bit and I enjoy that first love at first sight trope, sue me. I hope you guys enjoyed this sorry to Hightide fans for making him a bit of a jerk here. It just fits with the Tory.

Anyway, I hope to see you guys in the next posts, and as always a repost is always appreciated! And hope you guys have a good rest of your day! See you all Tuesday!

[luminouslywriting]

Heyy, I recently found your blog and omg I’m obsessed🫶It’s so rare seeing people that write for Band of Brothers.

Could you maybe write something about the BoB guys reaction to their new lieutenant being a woman? And they fall in love after a while and stuff. Just a fun little idea lol, have a great day!

Nonny, I adore this idea so much! Enjoy note the fact that my requests are open and I adore spam!

Cut for length, kept short and sweet since I've done some similar things to this, and please note that my requests for Dead Poets Society are also open :)

Dick Winters:

-He's stunned in the best way possible—super impressed with your credentials and your reputation already and gives you the utmost of respect.

-I think he genuinely enjoys working with you and getting to know you—it's a slowburn for sure though.

-Doesn't make a move until he's in Austria with you and you two get to talking about what'll happen at the end of the war and everything :)

Lewis Nixon:

-Laughs at first because he thinks you're joking and then very quickly has to backpedal himself out of the dog house because oh SHIT he did not mean to offend you

-Quickly becomes one of your closest friends and talks to you about a lot of his relationship issues back home—the two of you are a very much "will they, won't they" type of thing

-You probably hook up while in Austria and things just progress from there.

Ronald Speirs:

-Secretly impressed by you the entire time but is not about to share his feelings on that—but he keeps a careful eye on you and makes sure to have your back whenever you need it

-This man is out here just trying to make the men drink 'respect women' juice and that starts w/his example and he's perfectly aware of that.

-Steals a lot of stuff so that he can express his feelings to you with nice things haha

Buck Compton:

-He's pleasantly surprised and waits to make a judgement until he gets to know you—best decision of his life really

-He's out here able to talk to you about literally anything and enjoys your company as a friend first and foremost, which is important to both of you

-He absolutely writes you once he leaves the line and hopes that you come back safe

Carwood Lipton:

-Shows you nothing but the utmost respect and never steps a freakin' toe out of line. He probably isn't even trying to get close to you because he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea about him.

-Bonds with you during Bastogne and deeply admires the way that you carry yourself in hard situations

-Probably asks in a soft tone if he can write take you to a nice restaurant once all of this is over and take you on a date

Joe Liebgott:

-Simp with a capital S, and there's just no putting that any other way. This man hangs onto your every word and then pretends as if he never heard you speak. SIR, GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF.

-In all practicality though, he's probably the type to become your friend and hang out with you/help you integrate with the men

-And when he's talking to Webster about his post-war plans...yes, they involve you and no, you are not aware of them (yet, anyway haha)

Donald Malarkey:

-Also someone who is not about to step a toe out of line or show you any disrespect. He takes the time to listen to your opinions and your orders and values what you have to say.

-It's quite easy for him to fall for you, though he's not going to say anything about it until some liquid luck finds its way into his system during Austria

-Feelings are exchanged and so is a kiss :)

Eugene Roe:

-You are his favorite lieutenant—the most competent person in the world in his eyes—and one of the people he values most.

-He consistently takes the time to check in on you and makes sure that you're doing alright in your leadership position and tries to keep a wary eye out for anything that might do you harm.

-And if you kiss him after the events of Bastogne to get his head back in the game?? Well neither of you is going to kiss and tell haha

Bill Guarnere:

-Doesn't know how to feel about it at first?? He's a little confused and a little standoffish but then he sees how Sobel treats you and he's just not having it

-So the two of you become fast friends after that and integrating into the group is a lot easier with Bill on your side

-Admits that he loves you amidst a bloody and snowy ground in Bastogne and hopes that you'll write to him

Joe Toye:

-Impressed by the fact that you've made it this far and isn't about to go out of his way to make life easier or harder for you. He's just going to simply have your back.

-However, he's a great person to talk to and always will second your opinion or thoughts and add that he thinks it's a good idea.

-Also the type of person who writes you love letters after he ends up back home and hopes that things can work out between the two of you

George Luz:

-Makes a joke about it at first and then realizes that he has colossally messed up–grovels a little bit and does you a few favors before becoming your friend

-He relies on you a lot, especially during some of the heavier times for the company, and if you keep a smile on his face, he falls for you

-Would, in fact, invite you to come home and meet his family (you know, if you want haha)

[tabiito]

INEVITABILITY — OLIVER AIKU note: no warnings other than underage alcohol consumption n brief harassment, they are idiots in love and KNOW IT but just don't do anything. i needed to get this man OUT OF MY BRAIN so i can study don't @ me for getting the physics stuff wrong i've been rewatching big bang theory. can be read as a precursor to his part in dtmf

You weren't supposed to meet Oliver Aiku at seventeen.

You weren't supposed to meet him ever, really.

It was a hot summer night of your junior year, and you'd just been strong-armed into sneaking off to a seedy club with the friend whose house you'd been sleeping over at. Not only were you woefully underage, you were sure you'd alerted her dog as you scaled the gate and nearly broken the heel of the boots she'd lent you on landing.

It had been an out-of-character day for you, in retrospect. Firstly, you'd agreed to the sleepover, which you usually wouldn't, given your schoolwork, and secondly, you'd let her bitching and moaning about how you "never did anything fun and memorable" get to your head.

So there you were, three hours, two thousand yen notes slipped to the bouncer, four turned down drinks later, crawling your way to the door as she'd abandoned you in favour of a much older, sleazy looking man. (Someone had to accept the drinks, she'd argued. Otherwise it looked rude.)

Truth be told, you were shitting bricks. Unfortunately, people couldn't tell your polite taps on the shoulder apart from the more intimate contact that occurs on the dance floor, or hear your soft "excuse me's", that were instantly drowned out by the bass. So the crowd didn't move an inch, and you were attempting your best worm impression as you tried to squeeze through the sea of bodies you'd read horror stories about — in this swarm, newspapers posited there were hungry loan sharks, ready to corner desperate drunks, over-enthusiastic salarymen preying on their next one night stand and gang members scanning the vicinity for vulnerable youngsters.

You were slowly, but surely, getting to the door, and miraculously not falling over and flipping up the miniskirt (once again, lent to you) that you'd been pulling down all evening. The bouncer looked akin to an angel, and the door, the gates of Heaven as you finally made off the dance floor.

Alas, making it to Heaven wasn't in your fate. A large body blocked your view, filling up your eyeliner with a rumpled suit and breath that reeked of the cheap whiskey that they'd been serving at the bar. He slurred his words, grabbing your wrist, mumbling something or the other about one dance. Your brain was screaming at you to move, but the bead of sweat that rolled down your forehead was the only motion your body could produce as you remained glued to the floor.

His hold on your hand tightened, more insistent, as your throat ran dry, unable to comprehend what to do in this scenario. You couldn't take him in a fight, nor did you think anyone would hear you crying for help over the stupid EDM blasting.

You were sure you were toast. The next third-page column title in day after's newspaper, until you felt a warm hand snake around your waist, gently pulling you close to a body, breaking out of the other man's hold with ease.

"They're with me," a raspy baritone states firmly, and you look to your side to see a pair of mismatched eyes calmly surveying the fellow.

"Isn't that right?", he adds, and you can only manage a hasty nod as he squares his shoulders back, sizing up the drunk and giving him a once-over. Back then, though he'd hit six feet, and was in the process of filling out nicely, his hair were a swathe of well kept black and there wasn't the stubble he normally kept, so it took the salaryman a few more seconds than it would take him in the present day to decide to fuck off.

Unfortunately, Oliver's presence did less to alleviate your fears. In fact, you figured you were between a rock and a hard place, and chose to agree with him since he didn't have the foul smell liquor radiating off him. Perhaps you'd be able to reason with a sober person better.

He instantly let goes of you, and you get a better look at him, in his cheap white polyester suit (that he's still got tucked away in some part of his cupboard and you make fun of) and leopard-print shirt. Young Oliver did not have the well-honed partying panache that older Oliver had, and you were biting back a laugh at his Yakuza X Great Gatsby look. "Thank you," you'd managed to stutter, and he flashes you his trademarked charming smile that you still succumbed to, all those years later.

"You could be, by the way," he'd responded, and you'd looked at him quizzically. The line still keeps him up at night, as he cringes internally at the way his attempt at flirting never even had a chance with you.

"Be with me tonight. If you want," he'd pressed on, unabashedly giving you a once over in the outfit you later had nightmares about. The laugh you'd been holding escaped your lips, comfortably disarmed by his non-invasive, but persistent nature.

"Thank you, no," you replied, and he'd been taken aback then by the phrase you used. Of course, he later learnt that it was the more polite and apparently, correct way of declining an offer.

He'd shrugged in response, internally consoling himself with something along the lines of "missing all the shots he doesn't take." Normally, this would've been the end of his ministrations, but he doesn't miss the unsure way you eye the door, or how you eye the time.

"Let me call you a cab," he offers, and you smile appreciatively. In retrospect, you should not have trusted him, because you'd read up about cab-calling scammers too, but there was something idiotically, inherently trusting that Oliver made you feel, in his awfully put together outfit and voice that didn't quite match his face yet.

Braving the cold outside while waiting for a cab and draping his jacket that stank of overpoweringly inexpensive cologne made you throw him a bone and give him your number, veiling it with an excuse of possessing some means to reach him when you'd return his dry cleaned jacket back to him.

You were sure the jacket would never go back to him. It wasn't practically possible. You chalked up your encounter with him to a moment of good karma for you, and left it at that. You'd get his jacket to the cleaners and ask for his address, never actually going there, of course.

He was the kind of guy who felt perfectly at home in a club. You were a student who wouldn't leave the house if you had a choice. There was no way your paths would cross out of the 14,000,000 people who live in Tokyo.

Three years later, your number is his emergency contact.

You're sure it's his persistence that's kept your relationship alive. His first text didn't come until three days later, sending you some corny pick up line when he was going through a dry spell in flings. You promptly responded with a clear "No LOL", and that became your dynamic.

At first, he'd try his luck with you when he was bored, and strike out every time. Maybe that's what spurred him to keep texting you, and you were sure there was something deeply wrong with you that enabled you to keep texting him back, finding his repetitiveness endearing rather than annoying.

Fast forward a few months, you managed to piece together pictures of each other as you traded parts of your life in between banter.

Unlike your previous conception of him, he wasn't some club veteran who'd spend his days partying away. In fact, in that club, he was just as underage as you were, with his debauched lifestyle not suiting an aspiring professional footballer. Initially, you were sure he'd fail. He took great joy in proving you wrong.

His conception of you, though, was spot on. You were perpetually busy, a trend that's continued to the present, but he seemed mysteriously motivated to carve out a place for himself in your life, even if it wasn't in a romantic capacity. He chalks it up to pity, at first, assuming that your stressed homebody lifestyle needed a person to vent to, to be occasionally flattered and entertained.

Though he was right about needing someone who you could be a distraction, he's now sure it's not pity that's keeping him in your life.

His clarity is stolen from an article in a quantum theory magazine you'd raged on about in your first year of university.

In most occasions, when you'd go off on your theoretical tangents relating to your major, most of it would fly right over his head. That time, though, when you'd called him to help you move in (with "helping" mostly being you yammering away to glory and him hoisting your boxes up and down the stairs without complaint), he remembers what you said vividly, even going so far as to dispute you.

"The laws of physics are not inevitable," you'd snorted derisively, jabbing at the headline. "What a piece of nonsense," you'd added, brandishing the magazine in his face. He'd lazily skimmed through the article, ignoring most jargon-y parts and instead focused on the essence of it.

A domino needs a full turn to get back to the same place. A two of clubs needs only a half turn. And the hour hand on a clock must spin around twice before it tells the same time again.

Inevitability.

Oliver doesn't believe that he can be friends with his exes. Oliver has chased, and slept with (to put it crudely), every woman who's attempted to friendzone him, til he's no longer interested in them. He's, ironically, a dwarf compared to you in the real world, not coming anywhere close to your intellect, occasional neuroticism or humour. You've blossomed beautifully from seventeen into your twenties, no longer needing him to distract you from the stresses of academia. You have a full, stable life, complete with a doctorate and other honorary credentials that he's sure most people in their mid-twenties aren't supposed to have.

Oliver, on the other hand, is crashing and burning his way through life. You like to call him a controlled flame off the pitch, and have regularly tried to diagnose him with something on your late night FaceTimes since he exhibits both hedonism and self-sacrificing behaviour, but more often than not you have to settle for the fact that he's a scientific anomaly and call it plain idiocy.

Inevitability's made your relationship come full circle. From you ranting about college applications and dead-end research work to him, he now crawls back to you with his frustrations about Japanese football, his constantly busy schedule, each and every failed fling and situationship with that same telling grin on his face.

He's now convinced inevitability is what's keeping him in your life. You have no need for him, and he can just book a therapist with the stupid amounts of money he's earning, but Oliver can read your face as plain as day when he's rambling on about Suki or Mara, tinged with longing. He's caught his expression in the mirror far too many times when you slap on under-eye patches on him in your small bathroom to recognise it as lovesickness staring back at him to not understand that the two of you are dancing around an unspoken pact, one where his heart is already spoken for every time he steps foot into the clubs you pick him up drunk from.

It's not like he hasn't tried to speed up the process, but with you it's an immovable object vs. an unstoppable force sort of situation. Every time his lips have almost caught yours, every time you've contemplated taking him up on the offer of sleeping on his bed rather than letting him take the couch, it just feels like the wrong time with the right person.

It's unhealthy, and he knows it. You go on dates with boring, serious men that make you feel much older than you actually are, and he chases after the thrill of youth, found in cramped bathroom stalls, gambling dens and back-alleys.

Despite this, it's baffling to you how much of a contradiction he is. In all other situations, you can only attribute this self-destructing behaviour to people with no clear purpose in life, forced to engage in this lifestyle. What do you say to someone who's captaining a Serie A team?

It's one of those nights again in the offseason, where he'd already shot off a message to you that he's going to sleep over, and you'd already prepared his spot on the couch along with ordering hotpot for his hangover the next morning.

"You're so fucking stupid," you sigh, handing him a icepack for where he'd tripped on your stairs in a slightly tipsy stupor. He only cheeses lazily in response, the small bruise on his cheek lifting, as if to tease you by saying: and yet, you indulge in my stupidity.

He takes his seat on the couch as you prop up your legs in his lap. His hands ghost over your ankle, calloused and large, but just as warm as the first time they settled on your waist.

"What time's your flight tomorrow?", you ask, pulling out your phone so you can request the academic coordinator to post a message rescheduling your classes so you can drive him.

"Ten thirty. You don't need to, ah, drive," he says, wincing at the way you reach over and press the pack harder into his cheek. You respond by making a sour face, and he recognises the futility of his words: you never need to drive, and yet you do anyways.

"Are you still going to stop in Milan sometime?", he asks, tipping his head back over the edge of the worn sofa. He needs a haircut, you note.

"If I get a decent connection while on the way to Geneva, yeah," you mumble. The question's so infuriating that you've gotten used to it. You've followed him everywhere: Rome, Milan, and, if transfermarkt.co.in has it right, maybe even Spain soon. It's a given by now — if you were on your way to a conference or visiting faculty, you'd make a stop for a week wherever he was, no matter what the time of season. It's the same way he's considering no longer paying the rent for his Tokyo apartment since his toothbrush and bathrobe are perpetually parked in your toilet.

He clicks his tongue in irritation.

"C'mon, don't make it a connection. Just fly in and let me worry about how you get to Switzerland."

"I'm going to CERN, not a holiday," you grouse, and he waves you off.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Spend some time in the Sun before the Swiss suck your brain juice for what it's worth," he says dismissively. "The guys have been asking about you," he tacks on, and you roll your eyes.

"Ah yes, a team of professional footballers is interested in my measly string theory research," you intone, and Oliver cracks an eye open at you.

"Hey, don't say that. When I told Sendou you might be nominated for a Nobel on your deathbed he seemed very interested," he speaks, and you make a gagging sort of noise.

"Really? I should go from someone who got a fields medal to Sendou?", you say exasperatedly. Oliver shrugs.

"Hey, at least he'll pay for your meal instead of calculating up to the fourth decimal for how much you should split," he counters. "I've taught him well."

"Oh, so that means he'll ghost me a day later, too?", you laugh, and Oliver grins sheepishly. He's pulled you closer by your calves, you realise, since you can't feel the softness of your souvenir Ubers cushion behind you that he got for you and you keep as a tacky joke.

"Only a fool would ghost you," he says, and you mentally add this to the Wikipedia page of "things-Oliver-Aiku-has-said-sound-romantic but-because-he's-Oliver-are-actually-not"

"I guess I'm living in a noodledom then," you say matter-of-factly, and Oliver adds the word to his list of "things-you-say-that-he-has-no-idea-about-but-religiously-Googles-later-to-sound-smart-in-conversation."

"Ahh, my mother's going to send me one of her "why are you single voicemails again", you groan, flopping flat on your back onto the leather.

He chuckles. "At least you're not getting child support threats every two days."

"That's a choice you make. I'm single involuntarily," you snicker, sitting back up and noticing the way your shoulders bump given the proximity.

"Do you think we'll still be like this?", he asks, setting the icepack onto the table in front of him. "Bitching and moaning our way into our middle age?", he asks, and you make a face. Your answer, though, surprises him.

"God, I hope so. There's no way I'm staying sane if I can't complain to you about all the marriages that are coming up."

"Ha. You're assuming you're not going to drag me there with you as your plus one."

"You wound me. I never assume. I already know that's a fact," you say, dramatically laying a hand on your chest and resting your head against his shoulder. He scoots just a bit closer, and you can smell the vodka on him ever so slightly. Thankfully, he's opted for a less nasally invasive cologne.

"You're saying it's inevitable?", he questions, and you hum, nodding.

"It's just a matter of time, my dear sir," you answer, and you nestle imperceptibly closer to him. As sleep washes over you, Oliver doesn't move an inch, even though he's up for the next two hours, plagued by his own mind.

Oliver knows that on the basis of inevitability, it's just a matter of time when everything falls into place, til it becomes the right time with the right person.

You drop him off to the airport and hug him a little tighter than the last time when you say bye. He picks you up three months later and doesn't miss the way you began playing to the music he recommended. You pretend to be cordial with the Instagram model he goes out to dinner with and gets back home. He pretends to be happy for you when you show him the not-so-friendly sweet messages your coworker's sending you. You don't know how he breaks up with the girl the day after he makes his little road trip by dropping you to Geneva. He doesn't know that you say "I have a boyfriend", when you're asked out on a date by the same colleague.

You don't believe the laws of physics being inevitable, but you also didn't believe that you could know someone who's both selfless and selfish at the same time. Oliver's a contradiction, and you're scared. Time, though, is one of the few physical forces that's on his side, from seventeen to twenty three. So he doesn't mind wiling it away, and neither do you, even if it means twisting the knives in your heart just a little deeper.

You'll come around someday. And he'll be waiting.

[florencemtrash]

Wedding Invitations

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Miguel take the day to distribute wedding invitations to the Spider-Gang. But in the midst of all the congratulations they forget to tell a very important member of the wedding party...

Warnings: Fluff, Spider-Gang family dynamics, Miguel's got a touch of baby fever

Author's Note: I FINALLY got around to writing this Miguel x Reader oneshot that's been in my WIP dump for ages. This can be read on its own, or as a continuation of my Hummingbird series.

Masterlist of Masterlists

________________________

You blinked around Spidey-HQ, buzzing with excitement and armed with a stack of cream-colored envelopes. The cards within had the following words printed in lacy gold lettering:  

Miguel O’Hara and Y/n L/n Invite you to join their wedding celebration on Saturday, October 15,  2105 at 4:30pm St. Javier’s Cathedral 115 Hammond St

You’d visited Pavitr first, finding him tucked away in an alcove on the top floors where he went about carefully oiling his hair. 

“FINALLY!” He squealed, sprinting away to wash his hands before gingerly accepting the invitation like you’d just handed him a million dollars. “You’re getting married!” He snatched one hand, then the other, splaying your fingers and searching for the ring, “Where is it? Where is it? I want to see it.”

You chuckled, “Calm down, Gollum.” You reached into your shirt, pulling out the chain where you’d been hiding the ring for the past eight months. “I don’t wear it very often. Art teacher and superhero - remember?” 

It was a shame. It was a beautiful, vintage ring originally belonging to Miguel’s mother. He’d since updated it, replacing two of the missing stones with small burgundy gems that matched the color of his eyes. Even if you couldn’t wear it often, you kept it with you at all times, resting against your heart. 

Pavitr began to vibrate with excitement, bouncing on his feet. “Can I-Can I tell-?”

“Yes, you can tell people.” 

“Really?!” He brightened up.

“Yes. Miguel’s probably already sent out a general announcement by now.”

As if on cue both your watches beeped, a red notification popping up.

Announcement:  Y/n and I are getting married. Don’t get upset if you're not invited to the ceremony. There are literally thousands of you. Reception will be at Spidey HQ atrium Saturday, October 15, 2105 at 7pm. All are welcome.

“Perfect timing.” You said, smiling at the words Y/n and I are getting married. You still couldn’t believe it, even though you’d been sitting on the knowledge in silence for the past six months.

“Oh and Pavitr. Miguel will probably ask you this again later but… would you like to be a groomsman in the wedding?” 

Pavitr’s lips trembled, then broke into the widest smile imaginable, brown eyes crinkling. He surged forward, wrapping his lanky arms around you and spinning you around.

“YES! YES! A million times yes!” He gasped. You may as well have gotten on your knees and asked for his hand in marriage. “Oh my goodness this is all I've ever wanted. What are the wedding colors? I need to get a new sherwani.” He finally let you down, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you desperately, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS SOONER?!” 

You gripped his hands, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling. Pavitr's energy was unmatched and you could feel his joy rubbing off on you.

“It’s really going to be a simple ceremony. And we didn’t want to pressure any of you with the typical wedding prep stuff.” 

He looked incredulous, “So no bachelorette party? No-no manicure days or spa days or...” 

You shook your head no and his jaw dropped.

“WRONG!” He shouted, touching the tip of your nose with his finger, “Are you free next Saturday night? Yes? Good.” He shook his finger at you, “No wedding prep stuff? Really? Pah!” He threw his hands in the air, muttering as he walked away and started dialing up Gwen and Miles.

“You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Gwen asked, mouth agape. She pushed her lunch tray to the side, the excitement chasing away her appetite for the time being.

“Fuck that. You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Miles slammed the milk carton on the table, spilling a few drops, “I thought I was your favorite.” 

“Piss off, Miles.” Gwen teased, ruffling his curls. "I'm her favorite."

“One semester abroad with Hobie and you’re already sounding like a Brit.” He teased back, never moving far enough apart from her that they weren’t touching. 

She’d recently gone for a shag haircut. The tips of her dyed hair fading into a pale bubblegum blue. The new nose piercing completed the look and Miles was smitten.

You wrung your hands together. “Well I’m telling you now! And! I’m asking you to be part of the wedding party. So what do you say? Wanna be a groomsman and a bridesmaid?”

They didn’t even look at each other before saying, “Absolutely!” In perfect unison.

The rest of the day went similarly, full of excited squeals and hugs and twirls. Everyone at Spidey-HQ - minus some of the newcomers - knew who you were and didn’t hesitate to shout their joy, whooping and calling out across the atrium.

“CONGRATS, TEACH!” 

“LET’S GO! SPIDER-WEDDING!” 

“CONGRATULATIONS!” 

Hobie leaned against the window, hands shoved into the pockets of his patchwork leather jacket and flashing every color of the rainbow. 

He stuck his hand out without a word, a crooked smile on his face, “I don’t believe in state-sanctioned marriage, you know. You and Miguel are already married - have been for ages in my book.”

“You rummaged around in your bag for the last of the invitations, finally locating the envelope that had slipped into one of the inner pockets and out of sight. 

You hesitated, trying to hide your disappointment, “... so does that mean you’re not coming then?”

Hobie quickly snatched the invitation out of your hands, slinging his arm around your shoulder and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles. You laughed, shoving him away and fixing the tangles he’d made in your hair. 

“Pffft, of course I’m coming. It’s important to you.” He shoved the cream-colored paper into his pockets alongside a couple posters he hadn’t found a proper place to plaster them on yet. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He smirked, “But I hope you’re not expecting me to show up in a suit.” 

“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in.”

“And are you going to ask me to be a groomsman or something? Make a toast at dinner?” There was no contempt in his voice… If anything he seemed expectant. Happy. 

“Actually, Miguel and I were hoping you could be the flower girl with May and Benjy.” 

He brightened up, flashing a sunflower yellow and shooting off curls of newspaper print like fireworks. 

“HA! I like it. I like it.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets, opening his arms wide and sighing like he was giving up on an age-old war, “Alright, get in here, girl. I wanna hug you.” 

You giggled, scrunching up your nose in satisfied glee as Hobie finally gave into his softness. He liked to pretend he was cooler than everyone else in the room - and he usually was - but that didn’t stop him from also being the softest person you’d ever met. 

“Congratulations.” He said, propping his head up on top of your head and mussing up your hair once again.

“Thanks, Hobie.” 

You weren’t alone in spreading the news - Miguel was making his own rounds. Margo was the first one he’d told, by virtue of the fact that she was nearest to his office. 

“Hey, Margo.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. He held out the envelope, Margo’s headpiece peeling away from her sleek cornrows. Her eyes glittered purple, wide open and staring.

“Really?” She asked hesitantly, reaching out for the paper. 

“Of course, Margo. You’re family. We want you there.” 

Her eyes softened and she read through the invitation quietly.

“Y/n was also hoping you’d be a bridesmaid.” He tapped the additional paper sealed in her envelope. “Nothing fancy, but we wanted you at the front with everyone else. Miles, Gwen, Peter B, LEGO P-oof.” 

Miguel huffed as Margo all but rammed into his chest, the edges of her flickering. Who knew virtual reality bodies were so durable and dense.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice.

Margo didn’t like to talk about home, preferring the VR life she led with the Spider-Society. They were her real family now… she just liked the confirmation. 

“Anytime, kid.” 

She cleared her throat, pushing him away as quickly as she’d hugged him. “Alright, get out of here. I’m sure everyone wants to see you right now.” She turned around, wiping at her eyes in real life. Her VR body did the same. 

Miguel chuckled, rubbing his neck again. He wasn’t used to the kind of attention he’d been receiving since meeting you and learning to open up again. It was almost as if he was likable when he wasn’t acting like a complete asshole.

He was chased by compliments and congratulations all day, Spider-people stopping him to clap him on the back or to bump shoulders like they knew just how absolutely whipped he was.

Something about announcing your engagement to the world made the whole thing feel more real, like he could taste it as physically as he could taste your lips whenever he kissed you. He didn’t wear his engagement ring very often for the same reasons as you, but he slipped it on his finger halfway through the day, standing a little straighter, and looking a little prouder after doing so. 

LEGO Peter was next and he’d practically swooned when Miguel had handed him his invitation between his thumb and pointer finger. He’d printed an extra-small version for him. Then he’d fainted when Miguel asked him to be a groomsman, his brick body going rigid and toppling back with the same rattle as a teacup saucer.

“I’m taking that as a yes!” Miguel called out, slipping his head back out of the portal into his own universe.

He needed to make a home visit for Jessica, but she had a champagne bottle ready to burst when Miguel appeared into her home in a crackle of color and brushstrokes.

“AHH! HA!” She tossed her head back with glee. Her mane of pitch black hair smelled like coconut and citrus. “CONGRATULATIONS! Malcolm! Malcolm, get your ass in here. Miguel’s arrived.” 

Her husband slid across the living room entrance, a chubby three-year-old boy balanced on his hip and grabbing at his locs. 

“Miguel!” 

“Hey, Malcolm.”

“Mig!” 

“Heyyyy, Jefferson.” Miguel laughed when the little boy grabbed at him, latching onto a strand of brown hair and tugging. 

Jessica clicked her tongue, “Jeff, what have we talked about.”

“Sorry.” The boy apologized, patting Miguel’s head and slapping him in the face in the process. 

“It’s alright, kid.” 

“OOooooh. Get in here, Migs.” Jessica was grinning brighter than the sun, radiating warmth as she wound her arms around his ribs and used her strength to lift him off his feet and shake him like a rag doll.

“Careful, Jess. Can’t break the groom before his wedding.” 

“Pfffft, Miguel’s not made of glass, honey.” 

That much was obvious enough. Miguel had to keep his body crooked to avoid banging his head against the hanging ceiling lights. 

“Congratulations, man.” Malcolm hugged him next, being notably gentler than his wife. He still slapped Miguel’s back hard enough to rattle his shoulders though. 

Miguel stayed for a long while, until him and Jess had made their way through three bottles of champagne just because they could. Their bodies burned through alcohol way too quickly to get drunk - a fact that had disappointed Miles when he went off to college for the first time last year. 

Jess and Malcolm leaned towards one another like sunflowers to light, with little Jefferson splashed across both their knees and struggling to stay awake as the sun pressed against the windows and turned their pale yellow walls golden. 

That would be him someday, with you and your son.

The thought shook him to his core. First, because it was a secret hope that he’d never dared to even dream about and second, because it was now possible. Wonderfully, beautifully possible. 

His heart began to flutter, the absence of you by his side suddenly feeling like a gaping hole instead of a subtle ache. 

Jess seemed to understand that, making a show of looking at the clock and then down at her son’s open mouth drooling against Malcolm’s arm. 

“We should get this little guy to bed.” 

“On it.” 

“I’ll head out then. Thanks for everything, Jess.”

She made a noise with her tongue, brushing off his thanks with a graceful wave of her hand. “Get out of here you big sap. And tell Y/n I said congratulations too! Actually, scratch that. I’m coming in tomorrow so I’ll tell her in person.” 

Miguel chuckled, “Alright then.” 

He gave a final hug to Malcolm and Jessica. Jefferson stirred in his mother’s arms just long enough to babble something that sounded adorably close to, “I’m not… I’m not sleepy. I-” before his eyes rolled back and he slumped onto Jessica’s shoulder. 

You sat curled up in Miguel’s office chair, legs thrown over one of the armrests as you flipped through the pages of your book on the life of Aubrey Vincent Beardsley. Occasionally your eyes would flicker to the array of monitors, watching the careful web of universes as they flickered and morphed. Fluid, but stable, and in a perfect balance of chaos and order. 

Miguel drifted into the room behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and peppering the curve of your neck with kisses.

“Mi amor,” He murmured. You hummed happily, tilting your head further to give him better access. “How is everything going on with you?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

“That’s a pretty great answer.” He chuckled, finishing with a quick kiss to your lips. He came around, lifting you up with ease before sitting down in his chair and placing you in his lap, “And how are things in the Spider-Verse?”  

You made a self-satisfied hmph sound. Thank god he’d finally stopped calling it the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse. What a mouthful. 

“Holding strong and steady.” You flicked your fingers to the side, pulling up the latest day report that you’d already handed two hours ago, “B76’s Black Cat and 1805’s Venom were the only anomalies. Done and dusted with no issue. Reports are on file under Project Catalyst.”

“Perfect.” 

Miguel stretched comfortably, curling in on you and resting his head on your chest like the world’s most luxurious cat.

You snorted, blinking your book away with a snap of your fingers and running your fingers through his hair just the way he liked. He groaned softly when you lightly dragged your fingernails against his scalp. 

“Right there, babe.” He encouraged, sighing with contentment. 

You stayed like that for a long while, one of Miguel’s arms wrapped around your waist and his other hand snaking up your stomach to rub circles against your smooth skin. Unbeknownst to you, he was quietly thinking about what it might be like if you ever decided to have kids. If one day he’d be so lucky to lay like this against you and quietly talk to the little child growing in your stomach. 

He shook his head, he was getting ahead of himself.

“Everything ok, Migs?” You curled your finger beneath his chin, gently tilting his face up to look at you. His eyes softened.

“Yeah. Everything’s perfect.” 

You couldn’t help it, you blushed under the softness of his gaze. It was strange how you could get into hundreds of fist-fights, get knocked on your ass dozens of times over, and yet crumble at the sight of his auburn eyes. You didn’t mind the vulnerability though - you knew Miguel felt the same. 

You looked down at his hands, noticing the flash of silver on his finger.

"You wore it today?"

He smiled when you took his hand in yours, kissing his palm, "Felt appropriate."

You tugged the necklace out from under your shirt, carefully slipping the ring off the chain. Miguel took it wordlessly from you, gently kissing your hand before sliding the ring onto your finger. It was warm to the touch after hours pressed against your heart and Miguel felt a surge of love flood his chest seeing you wear it.

“Busy day, huh?” You asked when he settled back down, holding your hand tightly in his.

He groaned, “You could say that. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many people talk to me in my life.” 

You prodded him in the side, “That’s not saying very much.”

“Ouch.” He grinned, kissing your chest. 

“Did everyone say yes to joining the wedding party?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yup.” Your lips popped on the end of the word.

Miguel grinned wide and unabashedly leaning closer to you, “Then we got ourselves a wedding,” he said, smiling against your lips. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon. 

You chuckled, “Maybe we shouldn’t have sprung this on them so soon.”

Miguel shrugged, “We needed to tell them at some point, cariño. And it’s not like we’re doing all the extra stuff. They just need to show up to the church at this point.” 

“I know that. But Pavitr seemed to disagree. Apparently I'm going to have a bachelorette party next weekend.” 

He pouted, “No party for me?! I’m hurt.” 

“Peter didn’t bring it up with you? I thought he'd be over the moon about being Best Man.”

Miguel’s head shot up, thick brows furrowing in confusion beneath a bed of ruffled curls, “I thought you were going to tell Peter.”

You tipped your head to the side, “I thought you were going to tell to Peter?” 

“Yeah, LEGO Peter.” 

Silence, thick and full of horror fell over both of you. 

“Did… did neither of us tell Peter and MJ?” You whispered. 

Miguel closed his eyes, his face plummeting into the soft skin of your chest, “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

The double doors to Miguel’s office slid open with a groan of disappointment. Peter stood there with his legs splayed, carving out a disgruntled shape in his signature pink bathrobe that he never took off, especially with the new addition to his family. 

Mayday clung to her father’s chest, her brother’s chestnut mop poking out from behind Peter’s shoulder. Benjy’s grin was gummy and wide and he wore matching noise-canceling headphones with his sister.

“Fuck.” You repeated, your face falling flat. 

MJ leaned against the doorway and rubbed her temples with one hand, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter as Peter stalked forward, absolutely livid. 

“You MOTHERFUCK—

*cut scene*

*Alexa, play 'Blitzkrieg Bop' by The Ramones*

____________________

Author's note (again!):

Just some funny gifs I thought were appropriate for the characters:

Peter storming into the room because his best friends forgot to tell him about their engagement:

Pavitr learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

LEGO Peter learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Love,

Florence B.