#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!!!

[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.

[kentopedia]

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.” 

[moonlightsolo]

i see you.

summary: being the product of a secret relationship between a human scientist and a na’vi comes with its perks. one of them being neteyam sully.

pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi/human reader

warnings: heavvyyyyyyy smooching, angry jake, mention of parent dying/leaving, also things get a lil spicy, one use of y/n.

note: tell a friend to tell a friend she’s baaaaaack !!!!! i haven’t written something in so long so my grammar is kinda shit, so if you see something that doesn’t make sense ignore it! anyway- reader & neteyam are aged up to twenty years old. also reader is 6ft since she’s na’vi/human, but she’s still small compared to him since he’s like 8’2. 

part two | part three | part four | part five

no one knew how it happened- how you happened. how a human scientist and na’vi mated; it should have been impossible, but somehow they made it possible. 

your mother travelled from earth to pandora to study the native species of the omaticaya clan. during her studies, one particular na’vi caught her eye, and sooner than later they developed a secret relationship and fell deeply in love. 

they were inseparable- he taught her the ways of the forest and showed her how the na’vi live day to day. while your mother brought him along to collect samples of the environment around her, and he kept her safe as they explored.

the battle between the sky people and the na’vi, unfortunately ended with your father dying at the hands of your mothers colleagues. the omaticaya finally won, but when the rest of the human soldiers were sent back to earth, your mother was stuck. 

she was unable to travel in cryosleep while carrying you, so she was forced to stay on pandora and live out the rest of her pregnancy on the foreign planet. 

the only person who knew the identity of your father, was your mother and grace. everyone else assumed some soldier knocked up your mom, but boy, were they wrong. 

when you were born, your eye shape and color of your skin resembled your mothers, but the color of your irises were a deep amber, almost glowing yellow. darkened skin-colored stripes decorate your body head to toe, and white freckles adorn your facial features. 

the secret was out- you’re half na’vi, and half human. 

once the clan found out the scientists child is part na’vi, they took you under their wing to teach you their ways. your mother became extremely jealous, knowing that she could never be accepted by them like you have.

at the mere age of four, your mother left the base to travel back to earth without you. leaving you under the care of norm, max, jake and the rest of the clan.

thankfully being part na’vi and human, you’re able to breathe both types of air. mo’at became your motherly figure once your mom disappeared, quickly helping you adapt to their lifestyle in the forest.

over the years, you started to realize that you were different from the other na’vi children. you’re shorter in height, aren’t as fast, and you didn’t have their azure-colored skin. but somehow, you still felt as if you were a part of them. 

you became close to neytiri and jake’s kids, mostly kiri. you grew up with her and neteyam, but as you blossomed into a woman you wouldn’t dare to look him in the eyes. 

fearing that he’d realize your true feelings for him if he stared into them too long. 

throughout your teen years, you casually dated a few na’vi boys, but none of them were neteyam sully. nobody could compare, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

even now as a young adult, those old feelings can’t be choked down anymore. the same feelings you had about the eldest sully boy when you were younger. 

“stop drooling.” kiri teases you under her breath as her hands work to weave a basket. 

you’re knocked out of your trance, head whipping to face her. “no! i am not drooling.” you scoff and shake your head as you continue tucking leaves into the correct shape. you can feel your cheeks burning hot from her catching you staring at her older brother. 

you glance up from your working hands, admiring how neteyam effortlessly spears a fish in the water that he’s standing ankle-deep in. he lets out a triumphant laugh as lo’ak hollers proudly at him from the grass. 

“yeah, bro! get that fiiiiiish!” the younger boy whoops happily with his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound.

the older brother turns his head to see who else could have noticed the catch, barely making eye contact with you before your eyes drop back down to your hands. 

swiftly, you busy yourself with tucking the leaves into each other. your pointed ears twitch slightly when you notice the sound of rustling water growing closer. 

kiri nudges your arm with her shoulder which confirms your suspicions.

he’s walking up to you. why is he walking up to you? you didn’t say anything to him. you didn’t even get a good look at him. there’s no reason for him to come over here.

from your peripheral vision, you can see his feet stop right in front of you in the glittering water. “hey guys.” he speaks softly, almost out of breath.

“hey, neteyam!” kiri quips at him, eyeing you from the corner of her eye with an evil grin.

the sound of his panting voice makes your heart  skip a beat and your abdomen constrict your breathing. you push the basket away from your nervous hands to rest them on your knees. your eyes carefully drag up the lanky expanse of his body, meeting his eyes with your own.

“oh hey, neteyam. how’s… um- the fishing going?” you hum nervously, chewing on your bottom lip out of a nervous habit. 

you can’t help but notice his hands are resting on his slender hips with his infamous bright smile on his face. 

“it was good. caught a few big ones…” he huffs out another strained breath. the sound makes you want to fall over, “what are you guys doing?” his eyes dart over to the trees for a split second before squatting down in front of you and kiri. 

his big round eyes look over your unfinished baskets, reaching out to touch yours gently. 

“hey! don’t touch. you’ll ruin it.” kiri swats at his grabby hands, making him raise his arms in surrender. “okay, okay!” he laughs. 

the sound of rustling leaves distracts you from the boy in front of you, making you and kiri turn to look behind your backs. before you could even make it halfway, his hands wrap around your wrists to yank you forward. 

“shit!!” you yelp before you face-plant into the chilly water, gurgling under the surface before lifting your head up, taking a sharp breath.

muffled laughter fills your ears as you sit up in the pond, pushing your soaked hair out of your face and off of your ears so you could hear. 

neteyam is sitting in the pond directly in front of you, hand laying across his abdomen as he belly laughs along with lo’ak. 

kiri is already climbing out of the water, grumbling under her breath and wringing out her hair. “screw you guys.” she calls back, flipping her middle finger before disappearing into the thick forest towards home. 

you look back at neteyam and lo’ak who are slightly calming down between their fits of laughter. “you… should… see… your… face… right… now!” neteyam cackles, throwing his head back in the air. 

“best idea, bro.” lo’ak reaches over to high five his brothers shoulder and to use him to pull himself out of the water. he grabs neteyam’s hand to help him up next, both of them still giggling.

“this was your idea?” you stare up at neteyam with squinted eyes and a scowl on your face. 

the boy audibly gulps when he notices your changed demeanor, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck. “uuhh, yeah… maybe?” he clears his throat, darting his eyes away from you. 

for a moment, you keep the angry facade before your arm winds back and you send your hand through the water to splash the older boy. 

“woah!” neteyam blocks the water with one of his hands, a surprised smile instantly forming on his perfect lips.

he swoops down towards the water, sending a wave directly into your face. “hey!” your eyebrows furrow, quickly getting onto your knees to send another burst of water towards him. 

lo’ak watches the scene unfolding in front of him, noticing that the rest of the fish swam away from the commotion. “guess we’re done fishing today.” he sighs in defeat and climbs out of the pond without either of you noticing. he follows kiri’s footsteps into the forest with the basket of fish over his shoulder.

you and neteyam continue battling it out, which ends in both of you completely soaked head to toe. “truce! truce!” you yell out in exasperation, falling back into the water. 

“my stomach hurts from laughing. i can’t anymore.” you continue to giggle as neteyam helps you up from your position in the water. he slowly trails behind you as you trudge back towards land, his tall stature towers over you from behind. he reaches out to grip your hips to lift you onto the plush grass. 

the feeling of his hands resting on your body makes your blood run hot, cheeks flaring with heat. 

“we’re drenched. what are we going to tell everyone?” he breathes out heavily with a soft chuckle. 

“we slipped and fell into the water?” you suggest and look up at him.

“we just happened to both slip and fall into the water together?” his eyebrows raise, and his cheeks puff out air in attempt to not laugh.

unfortunately, neteyam decides to look down at you which makes both of you burst into laughter again, “that idea is so stupid.” he choked out, pressing his fist to his mouth to stifle his little laughs. 

“let’s go back. we can figure it out on the way.” you sputter out, hunching over slightly as you walk forward in attempt to stop your giggles.

“hey, wait!” neteyam’s voice is suddenly serious, and you can’t feel his height looming behind you anymore.

you turn around at the sound of his voice, seeing he’s still in the same spot he was standing in. “i don’t want to go back yet.” he admits, his big round eyes darting down to his feet. 

you can feel your heartbeat grow faster, pattering against your chest like a jackhammer. “why not? you okay?” you take a hesitant step forward to stand underneath him, looking up in attempt to read his facial features.

by now, the sun is starting to set. the foliage around you both is slowly changing over, the white freckles in each others skin sparkling under the moonlight. 

his yellow eyes shyly look into yours, a timid smile twitching up onto the corner of his lips. 

“m’fine, i promise. i just want to stay here for a little longer. i don’t want to go back just yet.” he mumbles softly, a puff of his breath fans over your face from your close proximity. 

you can’t help but feel giddy from his words, unable to stop yourself from reaching your hand out to rest on his waist. your thumb absentmindedly rubs circles against his soft skin, “do you mind if i stay with you?” 

“do i mind?” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, throwing his head back with an over-exaggerated sigh. 

embarrassment floods your body, making your ears ring from the blood rushing through your head. out of fear he’s angry with you, your hand pulls away from him, “oh i’m sorry. i’ll go then.” you start to turn the opposite way but he grabs your hips to keep you in place. 

“are you serious? you really don’t get it do you?” he almost laughs out of amusement, but you can’t help but feel even more confused. 

“i want you to stay here with me. i want you.” one of his hands come up from his side, bending down slightly to carefully tuck your hair behind one of your ears. 

your face stays emotionless as your eyes dart from his eyes to lips and back. “say something. anything?” he begs and shakes his head at you with an amused smile. 

“‘teyam…” you breathe out, a big smile beaming across your face, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks; something you could’ve only dreamed of doing. “i can’t tell if you’re being serious.” you whisper softly in the small amount of space between your faces.

“i’m gonna kiss you now to show you how serious i am.” he looks directly into your eyes before they flutter shut and he leans forward. 

the feeling of his lips on yours makes your knees go weak. neteyam sully is really kissing you right now. your arms wrap around his waist tightly to hold yourself up, which he quickly notices. 

his large hands drag down your sides and over your butt to grip the back of your thighs to hoist you up to his height. your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, ankles locking against his lower back. 

the new position allows him to deepen the kiss even more by gently wiggling his tongue against yours. he stumbles forward to a nearby tree, pressing your back against the trunk of it. 

it’s not like he’s having trouble carrying you, you’re equivalent to a feather for him. he just wants you closer. 

one of his braids falls in your face, swinging and tapping your cheek whenever your lips would connect.

“your hair…” you giggle against his lips, bringing your hand up to his face to tuck it back behind his ear. 

“sorry, they have a mind of their own, ya know.” his husky voice mumbles deeply into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your skin. 

your eyes flutter open to be met with the glowing forest, neon colors lighting up the vegetation around you both. you’ve been on this planet for twenty years and it still surprises you every day. 

neteyam pulls back to look you in the eyes, letting you admire his face for a moment. his blue skin seems brighter under the bioluminescent foliage. especially with the gleaming freckles that paint his skin. 

“ma neteyam, you’re so pretty.” your hand cups his soft cheek which he nuzzles into your palm almost instantaneously.

“no, you’re the pretty one, my girl.” he leans forward to peck your lips once more. the little nickname makes your stomach do somersaults in your belly. his tail flicks up happily against your ankle, tickling your lower leg.

neteyam takes the time to gently kiss down your neck and over your collarbone, “i want you to be mine.” he almost whimpers. his nose nuzzles against your pulse point as his lips continue litter your neck with kisses. 

“will your parents approve?” your voice slightly quivers, “you’re next in line to become eytukan. i’m not a full-blood. i don’t think-.” your rambling is paused by his lips pressing against the tip of your nose. 

“i don’t care what they think. plus, you know my dad likes you.” he gives you a reassuring smile, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. you can’t help but take note that his palm and fingers cover the entire side of your head. 

“yeah, but your mom…” you trail off, not wanting to seem rude by talking about his mother, but you know that she has a problem with humans. you’ve seen the way she looks at spider. 

“look, i’m half-blood too. i don’t think my mom is going to care, plus you’ve been around our family for years. she likes you, i promise.” 

“i’m not one of you. i’m different, neteyam.” you let out shakily, “i’m small and not as fast, i can’t keep up with you.” your eyes dart to the side as you chew on the skin of your lip. 

“look, i know she can be tough, but i promise you, i don’t care what she thinks. since i was a teenager, i realized that i wanted you. i wasn’t brave enough to tell you that until now, but i don’t give a shit about our differences.” his hand grips your jaw with his hand, turning your face towards him so he can look into your watery eyes. 

“i see you, y/n.” his doe-like eyes flicker over your face, trying to read your expression. his eyes are full of adoration and love for the girl in his arms. 

your breath gets caught in your throat, “and i see you.” both of your hands slide up from his chest to rest on either side of his face, pulling him in for another kiss. 

on the way up, you accidentally brush against the voice comm device on his necklace. not knowing it would activate and relay sound through his father’s, mothers, and lo’ak’s ear piece. 

you both gasp into each others mouth when he ruts his hips against your center, the pressure pins your hips to the tree behind you. 

“what is that sound? who has their comm on?”you hear a low muffled voice coming from somewhere. 

neteyam instantly pulls away from the heated kiss, eyes wide with terror and embarrassment. your lips parting lets off a loud suction noise when he pulls away, now making it obvious what the sounds were coming from.

neteyam holds you up with one arm while he uses the other to click on a button on his necklace to turn it off, “it’s my dad.” 

“it’s just neteyam sucking face.” you hear lo’aks voice come through clearly in his ear piece. 

the boys head falls forward to rest on your chest, letting out the loudest over-exaggerated groan of annoyance. the puff of his hot breath against your damp skin makes a shiver shoot down your spine.

you can’t help but giggle and gently pet the top of his head in attempt to console him, “i’m never going to live this down.” he speaks against your skin, grumbling obscenities under his breath. 

“neteyam! where are you, boy?” jake shouts into his ear. 

he taps your thigh to signal you to release your grip from around his waist. he gently lowers you back down to the ground before answering him, “i’m here, dad. i’m here.” 

you can’t help but lean your head on his elbow since that’s the only place you can reach. you grab one of his hands, bringing it to your face to examine it. 

you thread your fingers through his much larger ones, squeezing his hand with your own. you almost laugh at how his hand engulfs yours. 

“yeah, mmmhmm. yeah, okay. i hear you. lo’ak shut up. i got it. we’ll be there soon.” neteyam responds to whoever is talking in his ear. 

“is everything okay?” you mumble quietly, peering up at him through your eyelashes. 

“they want us to come back, but i think everything is okay.” he smiles down at you, pulling you into his side while still holding your hand. 

neteyam leads you through the thick brush of the forest to his ikran. the banshee chirps at the sight of it’s owner, fluttering it’s wings in excitement. “hey, buddy.” neteyam hums and rubs it’s head. 

he reaches around his back for his braid, bringing it forward to make bond with the animal. neteyam effortlessly mounts onto the bird, reaching a hand out for you to take.

you step forward to slide your hand into his so he could help you on and get situated. “hold on tight.” he peers down at you from behind his shoulder with a smirk before the ikran nosedives off of the tree branch. 

“oooohhhhh my god!” you screech as your arms desperately flail around his waist, holding onto him as tightly as you can. 

he can’t help but laugh at your scream once he levels out, now coasting through the sky through the floating mountains. one of his hands reaches back to grip your thigh to pull you even closer to him. 

you hesitantly open your eyes, looking down into the glowing scenery beneath you. “beautiful, right?” his voice raises over the loud whooshing of the wind. 

“i love it.” you squeeze his torso tight, snuggling your temple into the crook of his back as you coast through the air. 

the ikran dips down slightly, making you gasp and tighten around his body. neteyam chuckles, his hand rests on your leg to slowly rub gentle circles into your skin to calm you. 

“hold on, we’re gonna descend.” he leans forward with the ikran, plunging downwards toward the ground once again. you squeal loudly, wriggling behind him in attempt to get closer to him. 

neteyam chuckles, shaking his head as he weaves and bobs between trees to make it back home. the ikran vertically swoops up into the large crevasse in the cave floor, landing on the rocky floor. 

neteyam hops easily off the ikran, disconnecting tsaheylu before his hands grip your waist to lift your body up to place you on the ground next to him.

“what were you guys thinking staying out past curfew?” jake storms up to you both, obviously angry. 

“i know, but i can handle myself. i know how to fight.” neteyam grumbles back, making jake even angrier with his son. if steam could shoot out of his ears at this moment, it would. 

“i know that you know how to fight, son. but the rda, they could be roaming anywhere. it’s dangerous, especially putting her in that situation.” he looks down at you, then turns his attention back to his son.

before jake could lecture him even more, you decide to intervene, “i’m sorry, sir. it’s all my fault we stayed out. i persuaded him to stay… to uh- fly around,” you glance up at neteyam through the corner of your eye, “i take full responsibility.” you nod at jake, gulping down your nervousness. 

jake sighs as he rubs his temples with one of his hands, “so then what’s the reason why both of you are soaked?” he points out, making you instantly freeze from not knowing what to say. 

neteyam’s hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, “to be honest, we were wrestling in the water.” 

your eyes blow wide from his words, turning to him to stare daggers into the side of his face. 

“wrestling… in the water?” jake almost laughs, “look i didn’t need to know that much. you couldn’t come up with a better excuse than that?” 

“oh shit.” neteyam whispers under his breath, “no, dad, it’s not like that at all. i meant… we were just splashing each other after fishing. it wasn’t anything like that.” 

“look, you two just be safe and keep it on the down-low. and next time, please take off your comm, ‘kay?” jake lowers his voice before shaking his head in disbelief and turning on his heel to head back. 

“so he thinks we had sex then, huh?” you breathe out defeat, looking up at neteyam. the boy lets out a huff of air as he watches his father walk away, “yeah i guess so.” his voice has a slight tinge of humor to it. 

the hand resting on your shoulder pulls you into his side with a little chuckle. he starts walking with you toward the pod where the scientists sleep. 

he follows you up the steps to the door, pausing a few steps down before you could open it. his face now parallel to yours since you’re higher on the stairs. 

you smile down at him, reaching out to gently pinch his chin to pull his face forward. you press your lips against his softly, as if he was a delicate flower petal. “i had fun tonight.” you mumble with a smile against his lips before pulling back. 

neteyam presses forward to chase your lips with his, trying to breathe in as much of you as he could. “don’t wanna let you go yet… wanna kiss you more.” he desperately pulls you forward to kiss you again, sucking in a sharp breath. 

your arms lazily drape over his shoulders to kiss him slowly, and tantalizingly. he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, gently nibbling the skin before making his way down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. 

“gotta go to bed before my mother has me by my throat.” his words make you laugh as you twirl one of his braids between your fingers. 

“tomorrow i wanna take you somewhere. will you let me?” he pulls back with a smile, thumb rubbing the skin of your outer thigh. 

“of course, i would love to. but where though?” you question with your fingers still busy messing with his hair. 

“it’s a surprise.” he hums playfully making your eyebrows furrow from curiosity of where it could be. 

“i love surprises.” you grin, leaning forward to peck his lips once more before attempting to completely pull away. neteyam groans from the warmth of your body leaving him, his arms wrap around your legs to keep you in place. 

“don’t leaaaaave.” he whines, resting his chin on your chest to look up at you. 

“i need to shower and clean up before bed. plus your mother is going to have your throat, ya know.” you poke his little pink nose, making his face scrunch up cutely.

“you’re right, you’re right.” he grumbles sadly, patting your outer thigh before he completely pulls back and stands up straight. he leans forward to swiftly peck your lips, “just needed one more, m’sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow.” he turns around to climb down the rest of the steps. 

“goodnight, neteyam!” you shout at him as you unlatch the metal door. 

he turns around at the sound of your voice, “goodnight.” he whisper-yells back at you as he slowly walks backwards to watch you slip inside. 

neteyam’s smile on his face doesn’t falter, not even for one second. the only thing on his mind is you. he never would have imagined that his day would have ended like this. confessing his feelings to you, and kissing you goodnight. it’s almost as if he’s living through a fantasy his younger self dreamed of. 

the excitement of you makes him toss and turn throughout the night; it makes him nervous, knowing that he is already head over heels for you and in too deep- but all he can worry about now, is seeing you tomorrow. 

-

tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah

[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.

[pedgito]

hi! would u ever be comfortable writing about eddie's uncut cock? if not, it's totally fine. hope ur having a great day! <3

author’s note: funny you ask, because yes, absolutely. and look, i know people have varying opinions but let me be a whore in peace with my own nsfw headcanons, i don’t care what others think about eddie’s dick because this is just what sits in my brain. this was meant to be a small blurb so ignore the lack of form that i usually keep.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) obviously lots of dick talk what else do you expect, talks of self-exploration/masturbation, eddie dealing with some body issues pertaining to the topic in the ask, handjobs, oral (m receiving), i don’t apologize for any of this.

word count: 1.4k

eddie doesn't realize how uncommon it is until the reactions become the same and frequent, eventually forcing eddie to hate any kind of sexual interaction outside of himself for a while—he knows it's not a big deal, but the judgey looks and offhanded comments about how weird it was didn't make him impenetrable. it was always there in the back of his mind.

but eddie has always been about self-exploration, maybe to an unhealthy degree as he got older, interacted with girls less, buried himself into hellfire club and his side business of dealing—he usually kept interaction to a minimum, which wasn't hard when most of the school despised him.

and he can't imagine how anything could be better, his dick laying heavy against his belly as his fingers dragged up under his balls, touching delicately, almost teasing in a way before he gripped himself forcefully, tugging down until the head peeks past the skin in all of it's glistening glory, precum smeared over the slit as he slides back up, squeezing the head between his thumb and forefinger under the foreskin.

he thought being this sensitive was normal, but he was proven wrong time and time again. he's learned over time and through a lot of experience how to hold himself back, squeeze himself at the base to keep himself from coming too early or letting go completely, occasionally trying the tactic of squeezing the head until the feeling fades, it works wonders, but still, it doesn’t prepare him for the real thing—he's embarrassed when he's coming in the hands of some beautiful girl he sat next to in english class at the beginning of his first senior year, only some unrhythmic strokes of her hand and her thumb rubbing over the head of his cock before he's there, spilling over her hand without warning.

and when he’s really eager and seeking the relief, he's quick, knowing just the ways to touch himself, how sensitive the head of his cock can get under the skin and he's there before he can even process, groaning through clenched teeth.

he meets you somewhere between the beginning of his hopefully last year of school and the few weeks before then end of '85—he doesn't understand how you came into his life, telling himself how he surely manifested you, that there's no possible way you were real.

regardless, eddie's is riddled with nerves the first time you touch him, making some off-handed comment about how not pretty his dick is, hoping it isn't a total deal breaker.

you can't help but look at him, eyes wide but your gaze scewed, confused on why any of that would matter. you can't remember the last time you've found that to be a dealbreaker.

when you finally get his pants down, sneaking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers until his dick springs free, you realize just how dramatic eddie was being about the whole thing, having been fed some idea that uncut dicks weren't as acceptable as the contrary and it's a shame, because if it isn't the prettiest dick you've ever seen, arguing his earlier statement with a quick quip that has eddie laughing through his nervous blush.

"eddie—i don't say this to too many guys, none actually," you glance up at him briefly before trailing your fingers along the hard ridge of his abdomen, barely grazing him, "your dick is very pretty."

"careful," eddie warns with a grin, teeth peeking through slightly, "you'll give me an ego."

eddie watches you wearily, your eyes taking in the full sight of him as your fingers wrap around the shaft, the soft velvety texture of his skin pressing against your palm and fingertips.

his thick, not so much that it's intimidating but he fills out your hand in the best way and somewhere between seven and eight inches, the head of his cock a deep pink that slightly contrast the softer shade of his skin and you're pulling the skin back to rub your thumb over the tip, earning a hiss from eddie in response.

"sensitive?" you ask teasingly, smiling at eddie's reaction before you repeat your previous movements, circling his head with a torturous pressure that has eddie gripping the pillowcase above his head, chin tilting down slightly against his chest to look at you, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily as the feeling becomes too much.

"okay, okay," he rushes out, "maybe ease up on that unless you want—want this to be over in the next five seconds."

he's right, so you relent, continuing the slow drag of your hand as you gauge his reactions, the easy glide that the skin creates until you're leaning forward to lick a stripe along the underside of his dick, tracing along the faint vein that ran there before you’re practically drooling over him, the mix of your spit and his own precome making it more overwhelming before you're closing your mouth over him completely, keeping the same pace of your hand as your mouth hollows out around the tip.

eddie feels like he might die, but he's fully accepting it.

"oh fuck—shit, that's so much better than—" eddie rambles mindlessly, "never—never had anyone suck my dick before."

which is a shame, because it's easily becoming your favorite thing.

"can't see how," you reply as your bottom lip drags along the ridge of his blushed tip, “but i guess that makes me lucky.”

“just—girls always looked at me strange, said it was weird,” eddie comments, “like i have any control over that, guess my parents have always been destined to fuck me over, even from birth.”

you laugh along with him, his rambling thoughts slipping past his lips and filling the quiet lull of the air.

you were so thankful eddie wasn’t the type to stay quiet, because while his sounds were torture, the way his voice cracked with every few words was even better. you let him talk as much as he pleased until he physically couldn’t, his fingers slipping over the top of your head and into your hair, squeezing lightly as your shifted your hand up, skin slipping back over the head as you pressed your tongue over the small glimpse of his slit that was still visible, moaning softly as he tugged a little harsher, mumbling something under his breath you couldn’t make out.

“can’t wait to have you inside me,” you confess, his eyes lighting up as they connected with yours, “don’t ever want you thinking anything negative about yourself again, either—it’s not true.”

eddie nods slightly, “fuck—can’t say stuff like that with my dick in your mouth, sweetheart.”

you prod further, breath ghosting over his dick as you spoke, “why?”

eddie groans quietly, speaking through gritted teeth, “really need you to stop unless you’re okay with me coming in your mouth—i’d hate—hate to do that without asking.”

your teeth drag along your bottom lip, biting at the skin briefly.

“is that you asking?” you giggle softly, stopping briefly with skin pulled back to take him into your fully and fast, earning a choked gasp from eddie.

eddie nods again, more needy, “uh huh—yes, yes—god, please—“ and it’s only a few seconds later that he’s spilling into your mouth, his own hand wrapping around his shaft to pump it quickly, swatting your own hand away, salty slick pooling over your tongue in spurts, the warm liquid wouldn’t be as enticing if it wasn’t for it being from eddie—and you wouldn’t dare let a man come in your mouth like this, but eddie had earned that right.

you pull back slowly, swallowing for show as eddie squeezed at his dick, thumb rubbing over the head tenderly as his body jerked slightly with aftershocks.

“i’ve never—“ eddie sighs heavily, catching his breath, “never came that hard, holy fuck. i’ve always been sensitive but jesus—“

“i guess that’s quite the perk then,” you tease, crawling back up the slowly until your clothes cunt is pressed over his slowly soften dick, “amongst others.”

“you sure it doesn’t gross you out?” eddie asks curiously, having been programmed to always think it does, needing to hear the words for reassurance.

you grind the soft fabric cover your hips over his cock, feeling the subtle pressure it applies and watching eddie wince from the overstimulation, chucking weakly.

“positive.” you smile, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against his lips, quickly turned dirty from eddie’s obvious impatience, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste a mix of you and himself, the tanginess strange but welcoming as you moaned into his mouth openly.

“about being inside you—“ eddie starts, speaking softly against your lips, “can i take you up on that?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

and it’s safe to say that eddie never doubts himself again, learning just how beautiful every piece of him is.

[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.

[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.

[hauntedwitch04]

Neighbor

Steve Harrington x reader

Words: about 0.8k words

Warnings: smut, possessive!Steve, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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If you like my works, consider to buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 13: Caught masturbation

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Steve Harrington and you have been neighbors since you were born. When you were younger you spent hours and hours playing in the backyard, and when your parents forced you into the house, you kept playing in your rooms, since your windows were in front of each other. You used to spend hours looking out, imagining adventures and exploits of the older heroes, playing at being big, not knowing that after all, you grow up too fast.

You and Steve remained very good friends until high school, when he decided that you were not popular enough to be seen with him and that he needed to find new, "cooler" friends to really be somebody. This of course had made you feel very bad, but fortunately you had met other people, better than King Steve, who had become your friends, like Robyn, a skinny blond girl who played in the school band and was a real genius as well as being a very good friend. You and Steve didn't even say hello to each other anymore when you walked past each other to go to your rooms Those windows that used to be portals into each other's world were now nothing more than what they really are: cold pieces of glass, allowing each other to peek into the other person's life hoping it would be worse than their own.

Everything had remained that way until this evening.

Steve recently returned from yet another party; he doesn't even know how he managed to get home to tell the truth, since he doesn't even remember getting into the car.

The boy is lying on the bed, still looking at the ceiling and wondering how many drinks he has had, when he realizes that your bedroom window is open, which is not so strange since it is the middle of summer and the muggy heat is unbearable at night, but usually the curtain was always drawn so that no one could see your little piece of heaven.

Steve, confused by alcohol does not realize what he is doing, and so in the dark, he sits on the bed and starts looking at you, trying to figure out what you were doing.

Your room has not changed that much since you were children, but some posters and books now adorn those walls that little you had so insisted on, being your favorite color. The desk is covered with open school books and notes, while on the floor was a pile of clothes, probably dirty, among which Steve could make out some clothing you had worn in the past few days.

The boy's eyes roam all over the room, trying to absorb the details of your life, looking and hoping to recognize deep down the little girl he was in love with as a child. All until he sees you.

You're lying in bed, in semi-darkness, but somehow Steve can see you, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of summer shorts, hoping to fight the heat; but it's not how you're dressed that shocks the boy, but what you're doing.

Your eyes are closed, while your head is resting on the pillow. Your right hand squeezes your right breast, since you are not wearing a bra, from above your shirt, while your left hand is in your shorts. Your mouth is ajar as you let muted moans slip from your lips as you chase your pleasure.

Steve freezes for a second looking at you knowing it is wrong what he is doing, yet he cannot shake his eyes off you. He feels his erection growing in his pants, to the point that it hurts so much that he can no longer avoid touching himself, first from above the fabric, then in desperation, he unzips the zipper of the jeans he is wearing and pulls out his member, beginning to lightly massage it. All this without ever taking his eyes off you, as if you were a magnet.

She watches as your fingers continue to circle your most sensitive spot, faster and faster and hungrier. Your breathing becomes labored and uneven, until a few minutes later you reach orgasm. Slowly your fingers stop moving, and you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed and you can't see in the house in front of you, your neighbor masturbating at the sight of you climax.

Steve also comes to orgasm, a couple of minutes after you do, thus making time to hide well in the shadows, when you open your eyes, looking around as if you have the feeling you are being watched. He watches you settle down for a moment, before getting up to go to the bathroom, and at that moment Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High School, decides something.

The next orgasm you have will be at his hands.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval @imaraccoon @CaptainsBaby @titinkaaa @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626

[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)

[bloodyquillink-blog]

White at Your Wedding, Ghosts HC’s

Prompt: How the Ghosts would react to someone wearing white at your wedding.

A/N🪶: Hello again. To anyone who may have been keeping up with my fic “Sugar and Lemon”, I’m sorry I haven’t been writing. Between creative juices for the fic running out as well as school, I haven’t been as motivated. However, I do want to continue it. I just need to find the right time. I’m doing summer classes otherwise I probably would be working on it now. It’s just overwhelming at this point. But I still want to give y’all something with the Ghosts since I know a lot of people in that part of the fandom don’t usually get a lot unless it’s with (typically) Keegan. Nothing wrong with that, I just want to include more of them, especially more underrated characters like Ajax and David/Hesh. Thanks for reading this blurb <3

HC Note/TW: May include descriptions/mentions of weapons, violence/violent intentions, shitty people, harassment. Please note: I’m gonna make this AU style where Rorke wasn’t turned and no one was killed because I said so. Reader is gn so their groomsmen/bridesmaids will just be referred to as your “friends on the side”. 

I made a separate one for David because I love him, find that here

Storyline:

He was almost done getting ready. Today was finally that day, that beautiful day that he never thought would happen. Between the world gradually being broken down each time it was nearly put back up, he had expected to be killed in action like everyone else. But perhaps fate was on his side for now. He knew better than to expect everything to run smoothly, though. 

With two different people from two different families, someone was bound to have some opinions. It was just a matter of whether or not they voiced it. Of course, he had made plans just in case. He was getting married to you and there was no way in hell, heaven or on this Earth someone was going to stop that. They could interrupt the wedding all they wanted to, however they pleased. They could set the whole damn thing on fire, but he’d still marry you. 

He tried not to think about how beautiful you’d look, lest he start blushing. It didn’t work but the attempt was worth it, despite the pestering the other Ghosts would no doubt lay upon him. 

The time came and he stood on the slightly elevated stage, groomsmen and best man at his side. Normally, he doesn’t wear white but this is a wedding… his wedding… his and yours wedding. His back was to the hallway you would walk out of, so he kept looking to the faces of his friends and family for any indication. His heart beat was relatively controlled… and then the music began playing… and they smiled… and the officiant gave him the look to turn around. So he did.

And by God, you were ethereal. He couldn’t tell if his heart stopped or was beating so fast he could no longer feel it. His brain was short-circuiting. You had made your way up to the stage, your friends on the side smiling. He just stared, had he been smiling since he saw you? His cheeks were hurting already. You looked up at him, your smile like the sun, he couldn’t care less about going blind if it meant the image of you would be imprinted in his eyes.

Logan Walker

This man would be trying so hard not to panic.

He almost gets whiplash from how fast his head turned to David who, alongside Merrick, would pipe up and tell off the person.

Logan would have been prepared in a rather classy way. 

See… There’s a thing where, if someone wears white at a wedding, especially a dress, the bridesmaids can take wine and pour it on them, effectively ruining the dress.

Logan absolutely has heard of this and got your friends the cheapest wine possible.

Logan looks at your friends and signals to them to get the wine. 

One of them moves around closer to them so their attention is away from the friends with the wine.

David and Merrick tell them that they need to leave.

As they get up to get in their face, wine is poured on them.

They yell and fuss, claiming you and Logan are going to pay for their outfit as they stomp out of the room. 

You, not having expected this, stand there. Your hands are held by Logans and your mouth hangs open.

Your friends smile at you, David and Merrick chuckling to themselves as they all come back to their original positions.

You struggle to form coherent words.

“Did you- when did- where’d the wine come from?! Was that planned?!”

And the wedding continues, the smell of wine and the sound of laughter flowing through the air.

Elias T. “Scarecrow” Walker'

You know this man would be willing to drag out the guilty party himself. 

I fully believe he’d pick them up and carry them outside. 

Otherwise he’d probably set up his other comrades to be guards so people don’t try to get in.

I could imagine it being an old ex or probably a family member he hates. None of the soldiers he knows would dare do that to someone like him, he’s garnered so much respect from them over the years.

Any one of his friends, whether groomsmen or guests, I know they’d all stick up for him as he just watches with a smile.

Thomas A. Merrick

Roasts the ever loving shit out of whoever is wearing white.

“If you’re gonna wear white, at least pick an outfit that fits you right.”

“Did you get that from Walmart? I think I saw that when I went last week.”

“That would look better on Riley, but hey, who am I to judge?”

I know the person would willingly walk out without having to be escorted, due to embarrassment.

Gabriel T. Rorke

I can’t see him having a very public wedding. There is a very short list of people allowed and if there’s someone he doesn’t know, he’s meeting them beforehand.

If someone dared to wear white, well…

As all eyes are on them as they stand, showing off the color that was only meant for the two of you, he takes the opportunity since everyone is distracted.

He slowly reaches and shifts his white suit jacket, lifting just the edge, enough for the offender to see the gun, or other weapon, he has tucked away.

He lets go so he looks normal again, while the person is left with wide eyes, suddenly nervous.

They leave with minimal issue and everything resumes, people are left confused but eventually shrug it off as Rorke having intimidated them with his presence alone.

Keegan P. Russ

Keegan would be the type where, prior to the wedding, he expects everyone to show what they are planning on wearing.

He makes sure the two of you set guidelines so it is absolutely clear that if anyone tries to come in wearing white, they will be thrown out and not allowed back in. 

This man does not leave room for error. 

He takes advantage of having your friends/family’s (bridesmaids/groomsmen) contact info so he can keep an eye on everything.

Would absolutely sweet talk your grandparents or parents into keeping him informed whenever possible, especially if there’s gossip (Keegan loves gossip and you can’t tell me otherwise).

Alex V. “Ajax” Johnson

He wouldn’t bring weapons like Rorke or make snide comments like Merrick.

This is a man of respect, and while he’d be annoyed, he’d be prepared.

As people turned around and gasped and gossiped, he’d remain calm and relaxed despite his comrades wanting to push the person out.

He’d want them to be politely escorted out and you wouldn’t have to do anything.

Naturally, he’s fuming but this is your wedding after all. He maintains his composure.

If the person speaks up, they’ll be escorted out. If not, I can imagine him letting them stay, not wanting to waste time and probably continuing to marry you out of spite and right before the dinner, they suddenly aren’t allowed in.

They’re edited out of any photos they may have forced their way into, everyone basically ignores them. 

I love you, Ajax <3

Kick

This guy is just getting married privately.

Mostly just because regular weddings are so hectic and frankly, he isn’t much of a people person but he still wants to marry you.

[sushiwriterhere]

in a heartbeat

summary: "Maybe he just didn’t need the fanfare, maybe he needed to ditch the plans and just hand the rock to you over Chinese takeout and let that be it."  rating: explicit (no minors!) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 3.9k warnings: very fluffy, PiV (unprotected), no use of y/n.  notes: this is my first fic in a while and im fighting writers block something awful. this is not proofread :( pls lmk what you think <3! my other works are here part of the coming home to you universe

four days before.

“I’m gonna go out for drinks with the girls Saturday.”

“Uhhh, you can’t.”

Did he need to loop your coworkers into the proposal plan too? Phoenix having dragged it out of him so they could all help was bad enough. Bradley could feel his headache building behind his eyes. He tried to avert eye contact to make the conversation feel natural, instead focusing his gaze on the onion he was trying to caramelize. 

“I can’t?”

Bradley’s never been controlling, never tried to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with, and certainly never with that particular tone in his voice. He heard the mail you were inspecting drop onto the granite countertop as you turned your full attention on him.

“Why?”

Fuck.

He could hear the way your eyes were narrowed from the uncharacteristically steady tone of your voice, the way one eyebrow was raised expectantly. 

In the back of his mind, Bradley also saw the picnic blanket, candles, and bottle of your favorite wine stashed at Mav’s. There were the flowers he had to pick up and arrange on Friday while you were working, the homemade meal Javy promised him that he needed to grab on Saturday around midday. 

“I made dinner reservations at this new place down by the beach, and the only time they had was Saturday evening.”

“And you forgot to tell me until now?”

Bradley didn’t forget. Not about these types of things. Ever since your first date, Bradley had been nothing but proactive. He planned dates, cooked meals, doted on you. Forgetting just wasn’t like him. 

“Made the reservation this morning and you seemed busy.” He finally met your eyes and he watched as your gaze softened and you turned back to the stack of mail.

“Bradley Bradshaw you are a sap.”

And the moment passed. 

You and Bradley had talked about marriage, you have. You’d talked about it enough for him to know what kind of ring you wanted, that you wanted a small, intimate ceremony, and that you’d lost more than enough sleep over whether to invite your parents. You’d talked enough to know Bradley would probably have the Dagger Squad as best men (people?) and that he’d let Phoenix be part of your bridal party if you wanted, that he wanted Mav right there next to him, and that there would be an empty chair for Goose and Carole. That was one thing. 

Getting down on one knee and actually going over that line? That was another. 

The rational part of his brain had always insisted that you would say yes, that you also knew from very early on, if not the beginning. The unhelpful part of his brain kept telling him the ring was the wrong size or that a seagull would swoop down and steal the shiny thing right from his fingertips before you could even say no.

three days before.

Bradley’s checked the ring at least six times since he, Javy, and the other guys came into the shop. The sound of the velvet clicking back against itself then sliding open again was starting to grate on his nerves, but he wanted to give Bradley the benefit of the doubt. He remembered what it was like, that lump in your throat, the way his brain tended to keep him up about every disagreement, every time he should’ve apologized instead of stewing on his anger. 

Javy, instead, choose peace. He watched calmly as Bradley opened the box again, and brought a finger up to trace the gems before deciding against it.

Doesn’t want to smudge it.

There was clearly something on his mind, because the ring had been paid for months ago and the re-sizing and adjustments were included in the price. But there Bradley was, stuck to the shop floor, looking like he was trying to decide between getting sick right there and maybe saving it for the trees outside the shop’s doors.

“What’cha thinkin’ about there, Rooster?” Jake sidled up to Bradley’s side, voice a low murmur, as if trying not to startle the man. 

Regardless, Bradley jumped slightly, jostling the open box and the sound of the box snapping shut echoed harshly around the showroom. Bradley looked like he might’ve decided on getting sick inside. 

“Should I get a second one? What if she doesn’t like this one?” 

Across the room, a sales associate perked up just slightly, clearly looking to score on another guy so nervous he looked like a ghost. Vultures.

“Bradley, my man, we’ve been over this a thousand times. Phoenix got her Pinterest, it’s all a certain style, and it’s definitely the perfect ring.” 

Jake and Bradley had begun to get along, rather begrudgingly at first, then very amicably, after the mission and Jake saved Bradley’s life. Seeing him comfort Bradley was something else though, Javy acknowledged. It was kind of nice to have that tension dissipate from within their team.

“But what if I need another perfect one?” 

“Are you gonna propose to her twice?” Bob had popped up on Bradley’s other side, silent as ever. “Usually there’s a second one for the wedding, but I’m here for a bit of a new tradition.”

At that, Bradley deflated a bit. The box in his hands clicked open, then shut again.

“No, no new tradition.” He murmured, before slipping the box into his pocket.

two days before.

Bradley knew Mav loved him, but he wasn’t sure how much he would after this whole ordeal. They must’ve run over the schedule at least a thousand times, forward and backward, even while flying over their comms. At this point, Bradley was sure he had the entire Dagger Squad reciting the plan in their sleep. He hoped he at least wasn’t, he didn’t need you to be clued into anything. 

“Nothing has moved since the last time you were here. Go home, Bradley.” Mav’s voice carried through the house as Bradley unceremoniously burst through the door. 

He’d started leaving work fifteen minutes early last week, just to double check that everything was in its place, that nothing had broken or spontaneously combusted. It was just enough time for him to stop at Mav’s place on the way home, do his round, and make it home around the same time as usual so as not to rouse suspicion. 

“I’m just–”

“Just checking yeah, get outta my house Bradley and go be with your fiance.” Mav had rounded the corner into his back room, all bathed in sunlight and a picture-perfect reminder of why people loved living in California. 

He was the picture of relaxed domesticity, dish towel over his shoulder, spatula in one hand that he was clearly thinking about hitting Bradley with as he paced the room and ticked things off on his fingers as he murmured to himself. 

“You’re gonna wear a hole in my carpet, and I happen to really like that rug.” Bradley stopped walking but the way his fingers twitched at his sides clued Mav into the way he was clearly still running through the run of show in his mind. 

“She’s not my fiance yet.”

“And she never will be if I murder you for breaking into my house and giving my wife a heart attack.”

“Penny’s not even home at this hour.” 

Mav had never seen Bradley like this. He’d missed graduations and recitals and all the shit you don’t get to see as an estranged god-father, but he’d done enough wondering about what he was like in those moments to have come up with this scenario. Bradley truly was the perfect mix of Goose and Carole–all Goose’s easy romantic energy, ever creative, ever attentive, and just as much of Carole’s eye for detail and desire for things to go right. 

“Bradley.”

Mav watched as the fight eased out of Bradley’s shoulders and his hands relaxed at his sides, “Right. Sorry.”

“Look son, you don’t have to be sorry for wanting this to go right. And you’ve only got a little of sorry to be about starting to drive me insane.” At that, Bradley cracked half a smile and Mav considered that a small success. “You like this at home?”

A sharp laugh echoed around the wood-paneled room, “Oh absolutely not. She’d know in a heartbeat.”

“Well, then you have your answer.” The gears were turning at a million miles an hour as Bradley tried to decipher what he meant. “She knows you in a heartbeat, which means she knows how she feels about you. And we both know what that means for Saturday.”

Bradley nodded, the picture of relaxation and ease all at once. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

one day before.

Bradley was starting to think the gash on his finger was some sort of awful omen, something terrible that had been awaiting to reveal itself until the last moment. He’d arranged flowers for you probably a million times at this point, had even done it blindfolded (only cheating a bit so he didn’t lose a finger) just to amuse you. Now, as he stared at the blood bubbing up from his middle left finger where he’d just stabbed himself with the scissors, the entire thing felt like some sort of cosmic joke.

He’d never doubted that he wanted to marry you, not even when you’d argued or insisted on shoving your ice cold fingers and toes up against him in the dead of night. Not once had he wavered since that initial thought in his brain, and he was even more sure when he went to open that fucking bank account that he’d been diligently adding a sizeable portion of his paycheck to. (What? He wanted to be sure he could afford exactly what you wanted, DeBeers advertising campaign be damned.)

Maybe he just didn’t need the fanfare, maybe he needed to ditch the plans and just hand the rock to you over Chinese takeout and let that be it. 

The only thing keeping him going despite all his nerves, aside from his deep love for you, was the way you’d once leaned against him when the two of you were spending a week away in the mountains. Overlooking something that felt like it was right from a postcard, you’d told him exactly how all the little romantic things he did made you feel. 

“Every time you buy me flowers, I get this little feeling in my chest, like something curling around my heart.” Bradley remembered keeping himself from making a joke, something about heart attacks, trying not to break the moment as the fog hung low over the trees. 

“From the moment you picked me up for our first date and insisted on opening the car door, bringing me flowers, they all make me get that little squirmy feeling that no one’s ever given me before.” You had pressed yourself to his side but not met his eyes, as if your confession was too powerful, too heavy to make when looking at him, “And some of it’s because I’m a sap at heart and you somehow know what I want before I do, but some of it’s just because it’s you Bradley. Always has been, always will be.”

The words said next would keep him going in his darkest moments, kept him together on long deployments, kept him pushing through every moment of doubt in the planning process.

“So if you ever decide to propose to me, even if it’s just you asking me over coffee, just know I’ll get that feeling, just because it’s you.” 

At that, you’d turned to face him, shifting so you could hook your chin over his shoulder where he turned his face to yours. He could see every lash, every spot on your face that he loved to press his lips to when you were too sleepy to protest. You’d graced him with a tiny smile, somehow just a bit melancholy, but all too loving. 

Bradley shook his head, clearing the memory as he scrambled to keep his blood from spattering on the countertop. He was going to have to grit his teeth through the pain of using a liquid bandaid so the pictures weren’t ruined by a regular bandaid. 

You’d compromised on drinks being Friday, so he had the evening to himself. All the time in the world for flowers, for a barbecue at Javy’s (home cooked meal to be picked up that night instead of Saturday morning), and for waiting up for you to text that you were ready to go home. 

the day of.

Bradley thought he’d be blinded by panic, or doubt, now that he was counting down hours and minutes in place of days or weeks. Instead, all he felt was a sense of serenity, almost like he was floating through the motions. 

The day started like every Saturday he’d had since you moved in and he’d been granted a relatively permanent station at Top Gun with Mav and the rest–you pressed up against him, your hair tickling some part of his bare skin, and the type of bone deep satisfaction with life that came with going to bed with a full belly and the love of his life at his side. He stared up at the ceiling fan as it made its lazy rotations and thought about how today was marking the difference between two parts of his life. 

After today, there would always be a time before the proposal, and after. 

The morning was lazy as you insisted you didn’t have a hangover but let Bradley cook you a plate full of turkey bacon, gently scrambled eggs, and a few hashbrowns. He knew you would be fine by afternoon, and after that excited to hang out at the beach before dinner. 

He was sort of counting on it. 

Apparently he’d underestimated your ability to bounce back because the way you draped yourself across his bare back was a little less than innocent as your hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his stomach. He slowed the way he was chewing the last of his hashbrown as you pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot under his ear. 

“Good morning, Bradley,” You crooned lowly.

“Mornin’.” 

His stomach jumped as you ran a nail over one of his nipples, and kissed at his shoulder. Tilting his head to the side to give you more room to work with, he took a slow drink of his water. 

Maybe he wanted you to work for it just a little, what with how badly he’d been stressing these last few weeks. 

And work for it you did. The light drag of your nails just barely there on his stomach and arms had him getting hard faster than he thought was humanly possible. But there was just something about the warmth of your chest at his back, the thinness of some shirt you’d stolen from him doing little to hide the swell of your breasts, that did it for him. Hell, it was really just that it was you that got him going. 

“I missed you last night.” You whined, just a bit, as he finally turned around on the barstool and gathered you into his lap. 

You could definitely feel the way he was hard against the soft give of your thighs, but somehow in that moment, all he wanted was you near. Sensing that somehow the moment had maybe passed, you curled in his lap and stretched your arms around his shoulders, apparently just content to be touching him.

“I missed you too.”

The way your lips met his was almost as natural as breathing, and then the moment wasn’t so innocent anymore. Your lips slotted against his as you kneaded at his arm muscles and part of Bradley was incredibly satisfied that you were enjoying just how much effort he put in at the gym. Sure, he had to be fit for his physical, but how hard he went on his biceps and shoulders was purely for your benefit. 

When the two of you finally stumbled back into the bedroom, Bradley thought he might pass out from how hard he was. Everything about you was amplified somehow. Your skin was softer and the gentle scent of whatever perfume you’d worn last night filled his nose. The give of your hips and thighs was easier and all he wanted was to sink his teeth into you and never let go. You might even let him.

Sprawled underneath him you looked like a goddess, bathed in the rising morning sun, nipples gently peaked as your chest rose and fell. 

“I love you.” 

It was so tender in comparison to the way you sat up and worked a hand inside Bradley’s boxers to grab firmly at his cock. He groaned as you shoved at the little clothing the two of you were wearing and in a moment, your skin was a beautiful contrast to the crisp white of the sheets. 

Bradley made to go down on you but you kept his face in your hands, “Been ready to go since I watched you scramble those eggs.”

He couldn’t hold back the way he barked out a laugh, that one was new. “The way the white and yolk were combined really do it for you?”

You smacked at his chest indignantly as he propped one of your thighs over the crook of his elbow, “Your back and arms look nice when you whisk, you asshole.”

You weren’t so huffy as he slid into you, gentle as ever. Bradley knew he wasn’t the biggest ever, but he also knew he wasn’t anything to scoff at either. He kissed away any discomfort he could see on your features til you rocked your hips up against his insistently.

“Give it to me like you mean it, babe,” Grinning all cheerfully, Bradley cursed under his breath as he felt you bear down on him.

After that, there was little to be said beyond whispers of I love you and the occasional swear word. Sometimes sex between the two of you was raunchy and heated, and other times it rounded out his Saturday mornings in a way that left him sated like nothing else. Sometimes he thought it might be better than flying. 

You came first, digging your nails into his shoulders and breathing his name in repeat. The feeling of you squeezing around him did little to keep him from coming and besides, the way you scraped your nails down his chest and begged him to let go definitely did him in. 

Clean up was quiet kisses and gentle shoves in the direction of the en-suite bathroom, Bradley making sure the water wasn’t too cold for you as you peed. (It was the little things.)

-

Fuck what Bradley had thought earlier about being serene, he thought he was going to crawl out of his skin. Holding your hand as the two of you made your way down the beachfront towards the space behind the Hard Deck, you were chattering on about some coworker’s baby shower and Bradley was focusing way too hard on not absolutely eating shit with the way the sand was shifting under his feet. 

In the distance, he could see the candles and the picnic blanket like a homing beacon. He couldn’t see Mav or Javy or anyone else, but he knew they were all hiding somewhere, ready to burst from the shadows in excitement. Harvard was also brandishing a camera even though Bradley couldn’t see any hint that he was around–turns out he was a more-than-amatuer photographer and had volunteered to capture the moment. 

“Bradley, what’s all this?” Your voice reached a winded sort of pitch as the two of you finally reached the set up.

It was perfect, and part of Bradley finally exhaled. The picnic blanket from your fourth date, the little tea candles doting the beach, and the bouquet of flowers resting at the corner of the blanket, right within Bradley’s reach.

Gently dropping your hand, Bradley picked up the flowers and pressed them into your hands. By now, you’d clearly caught on that something was happening because your eyes were wide and slightly teary, and there was a ghost of a wobble in your lower lip. 

Tan suit be damned, Bradley dropped to one knee and pulled out the velvet box that had been burning a hole in his pocket since before the two of you had gone out to dinner. (The dinner reservation had actually been real, to his credit.)

“Oh my god,” you whispered, bringing a hand to your mouth in a way that betrayed the way your hands were shaking. 

Bradley inhaled deeply, before popping open the lid of the box and letting his eyes flick down to where the ring was sitting, nestled right where it was supposed to be.

As if unable to stop yourself, you opened your mouth and blurted, “If you’re about to ask me what I think you are, the answer is yes. A thousand times yes.” 

Blinking up at you, Bradley didn’t move a muscle as you kept going, “Oh my god wait you probably have a whole speech, I’m so sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

Distantly, Bradley heard a shutter clicking but neither of you broke eye contact as his face broke into a huge smile. He kept going according to his plan, the unspoken understanding passing between the two of you that you’d never live that down.

He said your first name like a prayer, before launching into the speech he’d rehearsed for months now, “I have loved you since I met you. I love every part of you–your laugh, the way you’re passionate about your work, the way you love everyone around you with such intensity. I love you when we argue, I love you when we’re together and apart. You consume my every waking thought, and grace me with your presence when I dream. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. I want to bicker about how we go through junk mail, the right way to parallel park, and what show we’re going to watch on Thursdays for however long you’ll let me. I want you by my side for the good, the bad, in sickness, and in health.” He said your name again, before asking the question he already knew the answer to, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my god yes.” 

Miraculously, Bradley slipped the ring on your finger without incident, then gathered you up into his arms and pressed your lips together. His cheeks were wet with your tears. 

“I love you so much, Bradley Bradshaw, you are my everything,” You choked out when he set you down unable to stop yourself from sticking your hand out in front of you and crying harder when you saw the ring of your dreams adorning your hand. 

“I can’t believe you said yes before I asked,” He breathed before pulling you into him to kiss you fiercely one more time.

-

“She said yes before I even opened my mouth,” Bradley chuckled as you giggled by his side, hands never leaving the new ring on your finger.

“That’s not nearly as bad as you were for the last three months,” Javy crowed, and the crowd was in uproar as Bradley attempted to defend himself. 

Above all the noise and the lighthearted teasing, Bradley knew one thing–he was happy. And you had said yes.

----

tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @kmc1989 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts @theharddeck @wkndwlff @waklman @blue-aconite @thedroneranger @bibitches-r-us @sunlightmurdock @laracrofted @jupitercomet - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are luv <r bradley. pls lmk if you'd like to be added/removed

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #21

Best of Wish

This is way more intense of a Rock-Paper-Scissors competition than I expected. I love how the stakes in this show are kid-themed, but still flashy enough to be engaging.

For some reason, even though I know Dev's surname is Dimmadome, it's still funny to hear a kid be announced like that. For years, that's been an "old man name" burned into my mind.

Are they allowed to do that?? Does apple beat worm?

He's just a little guy! You wouldn't beat a little guy at Rock, Paper, Scissors, c'mon!!

Time of his life.

Dev: I cheated! And you're supposed to be SAD now! That's the whole point!!

Dev is having a very hard time dealing with his emotions. I am definitely enjoying him screaming about how he cheated to win and that means Hazel should be miserable now. You can just TELL the words he's throwing out reflect how he feels and he's super confused as to why she congratulated him on his win.

-> Gives me similar vibes to Foop in "Blue Angel" screaming about how it wasn't fair that Chloe kept forgiving him despite his best efforts to tear her apart, although I think the emotions are being played better in this set-up.

-> With Foop, even though he also has a messed-up past (37 years of solitary confinement from the day he was born according to my frozen timestream notes), he was born with murderous rage, and his culture definitely leans in the direction of encouraging that.

With Dev, you know he's lashing out with things that would hurt him specifically and that he's having a really rough go of things. I like that.

If I'm feeling like Dev reminds me of Foop, that kind of implies Dev and Peri are supposed to me a good match that balance each other out. I like that.

That checks out- Peri has doting parents and wants LESS attention, and Dev can't keep his dad's focus and wants MORE attention. Peri's the one who keeps trying to rein Dev in and Dev is always trying to get Peri to go further.

Agency knew what they were doing when they assigned this pair, huh?

/war flashbacks to Foop being distraught that his parents left him alone for spring break back in the day.

THERE HE IS!!

Irep implying he didn't have a choice in his name change? I wonder what the reasoning was, since he even says it's "Harder to pronounce" than Foop? Curious...

As much as he hated his name when he was born (Season 7), he was very attached to it by "Love Triangle" (Season 8), correcting Goldie every time she got it wrong until he finally snapped and screamed at her about how "It's not that difficult!"

Goldie got Fairy names right, AND every character in the school play right, but never bothered to learn her one Anti-Fairy classmate's name despite all the time they spent rehearsing for the play and him making it very clear he wanted her to say it right. Big yikes.

He's very proud of his name in later episodes (announcing himself often) and has his business cards. I mean... Sure, he's allowed to change it- It just surprises me that he's heavily implying it was against his will since his attachment to his name was such a big part of his character in my memory.

He's developed an entirely new identity, lmao. Who are you?

Potentially setting up a plot about how he's mad he has to copy Peri, but I feel like there would've been easier ways to do that?

I assume the logic here is that it needs to be clear to Hazel and/or viewers that they're opposites (We got the info here, but he'll probably appear in future episodes where it needs to be clear to prevent confusion for people just tuning in), but if that's the goal...

W... why would he not just change his name to Anti-Peri?

Plot twist of the century: They bring back Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda, but their names are Osmoc and Adnaw now and we all suffer for it.

/record scratch

Hey, um. Why did they give Irep body language that was pretty much exclusive to Foop's alternate personality??

You're really gonna play me like this??

Straight out of the GATE!?

Okay, I just rewound to his first appearance of this episode and I do see the Foop-exclusive body language in Irep too, but... ???

Just really caught me off guard to see two poses I've burned into my memory as "alt personality things" back to back in like, 10 seconds, but okay. I don't care if this is a tangent; the actual episode can wait. It's important to me...

All right, the context:

So, OG Foop does fists when he's frustrated / scheming / cackling / nervous (usually above his head or down by his sides).

His alter does upturned fists when he's praising / cheerful. That's always been one of their switch cues, from the alter's debut in "Playdate of Doom" (Season 7) up through the last implied switch in "Return of the L.O.S.E.R.S." (Season 10).

Even the very first onscreen switch in Season 7 ("Playdate") depicts the alter holding his fists like that, before the double eye highlights were introduced in "Spellementary School"-

-and he does the fists several times throughout his first episode.

Other body language habits include big, flat hands lifted towards the mouth, plus clasped hands. In other words, the alter is more "dainty" and "gushy" compared to Foop- I've always imagined him "doing everything over-the-top and unironically."

Don't confuse that with him being the nicest person, though. He's very funny; I like in the OG series when he's totally down to butt heads with Poof and coos "Does Mr. Popular want to fight~?"

Like. Logically, I know that is just a weird coincidence. There's no way the storyboard folks studied that, and there's no way they're planning to bring the alter back, because if they were, I'm sure he would've been blatant in this episode.

Foop's not using his high-pitched voice here and we can't use his eye highlights as a faithful signal since that's on-model for this show, but...

I mean... He's talking about Da Rules when he does the upturned fists. That does fit the "grumpy / scheming" energy which is correct for Foop (although he usually pumps his fists above his head or clenches them down by his sides instead of upturning them like this), but... ???

Wow, that is not a pose I'm used to seeing on Foop instead of his alter. I've written this little guy in 'fic a bunch of times; I know his body language pretty well and it was a switch cue for 3 seasons??

I'm okay. It's fine.

Also, here's a video showcasing their switches. Volume warning:

I just found out I missed one switch in "Terrible Twosome" when Poof gives him chocolate (even before his Terrific Twos kicked in), and I was always unclear on the full diner scene in "When L.O.S.E.R.S. Attack" (though I don't remember why; maybe because the voice is deep despite the highlights and I'm only rethinking it 6 years later), but... Them.

-> I do count "Terrible Twosome" as essentially the alter because the eye highlights, voice change, music change, and clenched fists all match the standard, but I'd accept arguments to the contrary since it's confirmed all Anti-Fairies have some version of Terrific Twos, and this is the only one we have for reference.

I was today years old watching this old compilation when I realized the music consistently zigzags between super cheery and dark when they switch, even outside "Terrible Twosome," which was where I remembered it. No... It's been there since "Playdate of Doom." Huh.

Okay, so... This is actually really interesting. When they switch, the music does too, but their music doesn't overlap. It's a very clear, jarring switch. There's often, though not always, a pause before this switch (such as their very rapid back-and-forth in "Playdate of Doom"). I've learned something new. Huh.

... Wait a sec.

They wouldn't...

...

Hey, uh ???

why does the tense music in "Best of Luck" cut off immediately before Irep temples his hands, drop to silence, and then switch the thumping part of the music to the cheery part underneath it and put the thumping part underneath the cheery bit instead?

I already used my one video for this post, but I can post the audio. It's subjective; I'm sure it's not supposed to indicate anything, so just bear with me...

- Okay, so we have this dark "BUM-bum, BUM-bum, BUM-bum" pattern. That goes for 12 seconds into this clip before fading out. - Note that you can hear, like... a scale underneath, like a swish, 4 or 5 seconds in. Right as 12 seconds turns to 13, there's a "sparkle noise". - And then we drop. And silence. So, that's the exact moment before Irep temples his hands.

- NOW the cheery scale in the music is louder and the thumps are very faded in the background, but definitely still there. - So, the stings are no longer "always switching, but never overlapping" the way they were in the OG series, apparently.

- Irep clasps his hands and says a couple more words, then drops his hands on "quitting." - RIGHT THEN, his music switches back to loud tension.

What the fliiiippp... what the fliiiiiippp?

?? I said I could see Foop-exclusive body language in him too earlier in this episode. Are they together again? Is that why they're sharing the music sting!?

SURELY that is not intentional. That HAS to be coincidence. I cannot imagine a world where that is on purpose. I'm losing my mind.

I... I don't really know where to go from here. I gotta lie down.

Bonus notes about the fists I moved down here due to length:

Okay, upon review, there are several ambiguous moments in the OG series where Foop himself makes potentially joyful fists instead of scheming fists, such as:

- When trying to fool Jorgen into thinking he's rehabilitated in "Playdate of Doom" (and Jorgen clocks him as lying) - When he's trying to sweet-talk Poof in "Two and a Half Babies" (and Poof also clocks him as lying) - Both times he's brownnosing up to Crocker in "School of Crock" (and Crocker clocks him for it) AND when he's sweet-talking the principal to trick him into activating his door trap. He also makes the fists when he's mimicking Poof in his first scene, so... he pretty much does it anytime he's "not being Foop," lol. -> In that case, it's funny he makes those fists when telling Poof in the closing scene that he's "sorry for trying to annihilate him." That said, he DOES switch a few seconds later while gushing over how Sammy Sweetsparkle is "kind of a bad boy." -> Clasped hands (also a thing his alter does a lot) is ALSO something Foop does when he's blatantly lying (The last of the Snow Wanda scene in "Fairly Odd Fairy Tales" is a good example, but I saw other episodes too). - Continuing with ambiguity talk, he does the joyful fists both times he enters the pet shop in "Man's Worst Friend," (a scene where he seems to switch multiple times, so it's clearly a place that affects him, but he doesn't have eye highlights when he first enters the building) - When the Anti-Fairy Council names him a scary godparent in "Fairy Godcouple" and he grins and says "Bring it on!" (though I can see that as scheming about what he can do with this power) - At the end of "Fairly Odd Fairy Tales" when he's trying to coax Timmy into eating his food and Wanda hands him a treat, interrupting his scheme (and he leaves his fists in the air while expressing interest in the treat) - The first time he meets Vicky during "When L.O.S.E.R.S. Attack" (when she joins the team's plan to get Timmy, so... arguably scheming, though the alt personality is known for crushes - and had eye highlights when asking Crocker if the mystery person he wanted to bring in was single - so I'd accept that as an answer).

Yes, I did drop everything to rewatch every Foop episode for this. hey man how's it going.