#this should be what it means when people say
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how seventeen realized you were ‘the one’
scoups
when you stayed up all night for him.
seungcheol had texted you and told you to go to sleep hours ago, knowing that he was going to be home late.
but you knew that he had a rough and busy day and you wanted to unwind with him, even if you were on the brink of falling asleep.
he was even later than you both expected, but you were resilient in staying awake. you drank some coffee and moved around the house, making sure you didn’t accidentally fall asleep.
he finally walked into your apartment and was greeted with your sleepy, but still smiling, face.
when you welcomed him home with open arms after he had the worst day ever, he knew that you were it for him.
jeonghan
when you understood his personality.
jeonghan wasn’t a people pleaser by any means. which made him quite blunt.
some people said that his personality was off-putting or that he should have more of a filter.
but you never said that to him.
from the moment you two met you fit like two pieces of a puzzle, he got you and you got him.
when he said something that wasn’t received well he would always look across the room and would see you smiling back at him, at least you got him.
he knew in moments like those that you were absolutely made for him.
joshua
when you met his mother.
when joshua couldn’t make it to the airport to pick his mom up you happily volunteered.
you had never met the woman before but you wanted to get to know the mother of your boyfriend. plus a few brownie points never hurt.
you instantly hit it off with his mother and bonded quickly, spending the whole day with her even when joshua said you didn’t have to.
when he returned home after work he saw the two of you sitting on your living room couch, eating a meal and chatting away like nothing else mattered.
the two most important people in his life were getting along. he knew then and there everything was right in the world and you were positively his soulmate.
jun
when you started crying over a stray cat.
you weren’t an overly sensitive person usually.
but when it came to animals that’s when all your walls broke.
one day you and jun were on a walk when you spotted a small ball of fluff on the side of the road. being the person you were, you had to go and check on it.
when you saw how skinny and scared the little cat was it brought tears to your eyes. you looked up at jun with glassy eyes and begged him to adopt the cat with you.
of course, he couldn’t say no to you.
when he saw how gentle and loving you were it made him fall even deeper in love with you.
soonyoung
when you instantly bonded with his friends.
soonyoung was a big believer that he needed his partner and his friends to all be friends.
so he was rightfully nervous when he introduced you to his closest friends, his 12 bandmates.
he assumed that you would be a little overwhelmed, meeting 12 men at once, some of which that had very loud personalities.
what he didn’t know was that you would mesh instantly with his friends. you all talked, laughed, sang, and got to know each other. all without the help or intervention of soonyoung, he just sat back and watched with a fond smile.
he saw how you fit so perfectly into his life and it made him certain that you were meant to be in it forever.
wonwoo
when you took care of him while he was sick.
wonwoo is used to doing things on his own. he was a caretaker and he was good at it!
but on the rare occasion that he got so sick that he couldn’t do anything he would just lay in bed and wait for it to wash over him.
when you became his partner he didn’t expect you to take care of him, he wasn’t used to it and frankly he thought he didn’t want it.
but one day when he contracted that strong sickness that made him bedridden you ended up by his side all day.
despite his protests about you getting sick you stuck around, feeding him soup and medicine, keeping him company, and getting whatever he wanted.
he wasn’t used to being taken care of but being taken care of by you felt right.
jihoon
when you spent the whole day in his studio.
jihoon had hit a creative block and you volunteered to stay with him in the studio and try to help to the best of your abilities.
he reluctantly let you come. not that he didn’t want you there, he just didn’t want you to see him failing.
but on the contrary you helped him more that he could put into words.
you helped create beats, gave your input whenever he asked, and made sure he took breaks and ate food (something that he often forgot to do).
he knew he was the luckiest man in the world to have someone so kind and caring around him. that day solidified to him that he’d never let you go.
minghao
when you made him feel at home.
minghao loved living in korea, but sometimes he got homesick.
he wasn’t one to complain but whenever he got extra homesick he would drop little hints. he’d talk about how he missed his moms cooking and his childhood.
the first time he did this you immediately thought up a plan to help combat his homesickness.
the next day he came home to a plethora of classic chinese dishes made just like how his mom cooked (you called her for help).
he couldn’t believe that someone would do something so thoughtful just for him. all he could think about while you two ate together was how he couldn’t think of anyone better to spend his life with.
mingyu
when you cooked together.
everyone knows mingyu is a stellar chef.
but what he didn’t know was that you were too.
your relationship heavily involved food and cooking as a love language. you would each cook each other your favorite dishes as signs of affection.
but mingyu’s favorite thing to do was cook with you.
it felt so domestic and so right.
he even liked how you would bicker with him since you each had your own meticulous ways of cooking different meals.
while you’re stirring something on the stove he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.
he’ll watch you with the softest eyes, thinking about how lucky he is to have found someone like you.
seokmin
when you didn’t get annoyed with him.
it’s common knowledge that seokmin has quite the loud personality. it was one of the many things that you loved about him.
he knew that it could be annoying to some people, but he couldn’t help it.
but you loved when he would burst out into song for no apparent reason. so much so that you would often join him in song and even try to harmonize.
he loves that you’re never too busy to entertain him, it only makes him fall in love with you more.
now that he’s finally found someone that matches him he won’t even think of letting you go.
seungkwan
when you let him be himself.
seungkwan has always felt pressure to perform. but most times it takes up a lot of his energy.
he’ll come home after a long day of promoting with nearly zero energy yet. and he feels terrible about it.
he was sure that wasn’t what you signed up for when you started dating, so he would apologize and try to use the last of his energy to entertain you.
but you loved seungkwan no matter what. you understood what he was going through and you never pressured him.
you made sure he knew that you didn’t care if he couldn’t crack jokes all the time or be the bubbly personality that he is on camera.
you love him for him. and he loves you, so so much.
vernon
when you listen to the music he likes.
you and vernon had pretty different interests when you first started going out.
so as your relationship progressed you each began to share different parts of your lives with each other. and a big one to vernon was his music.
he didn’t know if you would even like it so he only mentioned it as an offhand comment, not thinking that you’d remember it.
but one day he came home to you dancing around the apartment, his favorite artist blasting on a speaker that you had set up.
you knew all the words to his favorite song.
he couldn’t believe that someone would take the time out of their day just to connect with him like that. in that moment he knew that you were special and he had to keep you forever.
dino
when you let him rant.
being so young and being one of the biggest names in the industry, dino always had a lot on his plate.
he was used to the fast paced life, but that didn’t mean he was always a fan of it.
some nights he would come home late and collapse on the couch, letting you settle in next to him while he went on a tangent about what went wrong that day.
most people would’ve told him to stop complaining or that things weren’t as bad as he thought.
but you didn’t do that. you let him talk and you validated his feelings. you didn’t make him feel inferior or stupid.
the weight on his shoulders always felt lighter after talking to you. when he realized this fact he realized that it was you. everything in his life was fixed with you and you were the only one out there for him.
#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#svt imagine#svt x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenario#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt scenario#svt scenarios#seventeen#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#mingyu fluff#mingyu x reader#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo x reader#hoshi x reader#hoshi fluff#woozi x reader#woozi fluff#vernon x reader#vernon fluff
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saying 'usamericans' is like referring to congolese ppl as 'democongolese'. we know what u mean when u say american its okay
last i checked there was a pair of continents called the americas and not even one called congo. what do you think should be the name of the people living in them? should that demonym get to belong to the worlds most annoying and self involved local hegemon? latinoamericans speak and write about why they do this, which also functions as a response to us hegemony in the region. i do it to annoy tedious people and you have made my day by telling me you exist.
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i love the kbd universe so so much! could you please do one where sweet little bethie (☹️) has been getting a hard time from other kids at school/nursery for being ‘weird’/‘different’ and how steve and reader would handle it?? sorry if that’s too specific my lovely! hope you’re having a good day!! 🫶
thank you!! kbd au —steve employs your help when your daughter needs a pep talk. 1.5k
“Why’s my girl so sad?”
“I’m not sad.”
Steve raises his brows at Beth. She looks especially like you when she’s down. It’s sort of sad, thinking about it, how her lips turn like yours would, how she won’t meet his gaze or hold his hand when he tries to intertwine their fingers.
“Aw, honey, don’t tell me tall tales,” he says, no actual scolding in his tone. He sees the shimmer of tears aligned on her bottom lashes and can’t abide her fibs anymore, scooping her off of the couch and into his arms. “Bethieeeee,” he whines, “tell me what’s wrong! You know I hate not knowing everything about you.”
“Dad,” she says, letting her head loll in the curve of his neck, “nothing is wrong.”
Liar, he thinks. From the kitchen he can hear you and Dove and baby Wren singing. Avery potters around in the downstairs bathroom, humming. Steve knows Beth is sad, because Beth is quiet, but she still has as much energy as the rest of her sisters when she’s home. She isn’t introverted when she’s with him, or her mother, and especially not the best big sister in the world.
“Okay,” he says. He should poke and prod. Instead, he lifts her up as high as he can, which, not to brag, is quite high. “Hi up there. How’s the weather?”
She jabs him in the chest with her foot. “It’s windy.”
Steve laughs like an idiot and brings her down for some adoring kisses. “Super windy. Babe, you get funnier and funnier everyday.”
She wraps her arms behind his head. “Thank you.”
“Ooh, you’re welcome. Should we go and sing some songs with mommy?”
Beth shakes her head. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” She sounds like a baby.
Steve sits down with an arm behind her back. He’d quite like a bit of peace and quiet. He doesn’t mind if she needs some too. “Then let’s stay right here, bub, jus’ me and you.”
Dustin once said that Steve was about as much use as a paper cup in a hurricane when it came to comforting people, but that was nearly a decade ago, and it was before he met you. You rushed into Steve’s life (by accident on both sides) and showed him how it felt to be properly looked after for the first time ever. He can’t forget how that felt. Robin loves him but she couldn’t love him like that, couldn’t kiss a bruise and fix it whole, couldn’t ease a migraine with her fingers in his hair. You touch Steve’s arm and he can lift a ten tonner.
He’s more equipped than ever to comfort someone now. He had a good teacher.
“You have a long day today, huh?” he asks.
“Not much.”
He smiles. “Not much long?” he asks.
“Dad,” she grumbles. “You know what I mean.”
“I do… so you didn’t find it too long?”
“I guess.” Beth touches under his chin. “You have sharpies.”
“My stubble? Should I shave tonight?”
“Yes,” she says emphatically. “Don’t like scratchy kisses.”
“Oh, so you wanted more kisses?” he asks. “Would that help you feel better? How about we meet in the middle and get mom to kiss you? She’s not so sharp.”
She sighs, her nose shoved into his collar. “Dad, can you rub my back?”
Steve rubs her back immediately. She makes no other request, lips firmly shut and secret upset sealed away, feeling at his stubble with gentle fingers. She loves foreign sensations like this. It’s why she likes having her back rubbed, Steve theories; the pressure of his hand on her spine is dragging, and grounding.
He shifts against the grain of a cushion behind his back.
“I want to tell you,” Bethie says finally.
“I always want to listen,” he promises.
She doesn’t sound teary, more uncomfortable as she finally forces it out, “Nobody at school likes me.”
“Babe, that’s not true at all.”
“It is true. They all think I’m weird.”
“I bet they don’t, babe.”
“Dad, they all say it.”
Steve bites his cheek as his mouth snaps shut. “Well,” he says quietly, cupping the side of her face, encouraging her head back to meet her eyes. They’re big in her little face, pupils like pearls, “that’s not very nice.”
“It’s true.”
“Not true.”
“It is true,” she says angrily.
“It’s not true, Beth, you’re not weird, and if you are weird then I’m weird, and that’s not a bad thing after all. Is it?”
Internally, it breaks his heart. Beth has been different than the other kids for a long time and in lots of ways. She’s picky, peculiar. She eats things in her own fashion, and has interests outside of her peers. Steve didn’t know she was ‘abnormal’ until people started telling him —she’s his second baby. He didn’t think they were all the same, and so didn’t question her differences, and still doesn’t care to beyond wondering what he can do to make her happy. Who cares if Beth eats two bites of sandwich for every celery stick?
The other kids. Some parents.
“I don’t want to be weird,” she says, hanging her head.
You arrive like a well-timed miracle, shimmying past the half open door with a smile. “Hi, guys. I want you to come and do karaoke, what do you think? I’m making everybody mocktails! We’re having pineapple juice and–” You lean back, hand on your hip, a slip of your stomach peaking out of your tank top, total picture of a cool mom as you cross your naked arms over your stomach. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” you ask teasingly.
Steve squeezes Beth to his neck. “Hey, none of your business!”
“No, tell me,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside them on the couch.
“You wanna tell her?” Steve asks.
Beth shakes her head. “Didn’t want to tell you, dad.”
“You did, lovely,” he says, all sympathy as you cuddle up to Steve’s side and wrap an arm around them both. “You said you wanted to tell me. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us again, though. Mommy just wants to make you feel better, right?”
“Right,” you say. When you smile at her, it’s with all the love in the world.
She’s quicker to cry in her mother’s lap. She wiggles closer to your shoulder, her voice fraught as she confesses, “Everybody at school says I’m weird,” and erupts into breathless sobbing, like she’s terrified of the idea.
Your eyes wrinkle as you close them tight, frowning into the top of her head. “Oh, my poor girl. My baby. Please don’t cry, because that’s not true. You’re not weird.”
“Everybody says I am!”
“I’m sorry,” you say, pushing Steve away accidentally as you wrap her into a proper hug. “Who says that?”
“Mom, it’s everyone. Even my friends.”
Kids can be so mean, when they aren’t trying and when they are. You mumble sweet placatives, fingers running up and down the length of Beth’s shuddering back. She cries like she’s hurting. Steve’s reminded of the time she fell down the stairs and hit her face on the baby gate, she was shocked but more urgently in pain, and she couldn’t work out why she’d fallen.
“That’s not nice, Beth,” you’re saying, “I’m so sorry they’re saying mean things about you, but you’re not weird, I don’t know why they’d say something like that. They’re just not as nice as my girl.”
“I’m different,“ she says.
“That’s not a bad thing, Beth. You’re perfect. I wouldn’t want you any other way, and neither would your dad.”
Steve jumps in. “Right! We like you like this, babe. I don’t want you to change, I don’t care what all the meanies at school say, me and mom think you’re awesome. Avery and Dove and Wren all think you’re the best sister and best friend ever. Avery’s your best friend. Has she ever called you weird?”
The baby talk is sinking in. If you used your bubbly voices on Avery it might not work anymore, but Beth is just about young enough for it to take. “No… You really think I’m not weird?” Beth asks sadly.
No kid wants to think they’re weird, even if they are, and even if that’s okay.
You sink down into your seat, taking Beth with you. Steve has to fight to cuddle you both. “I know you’re not,” you say.
For a good five minutes, you just hug her. Steve ends up laying his cheek against your temple, hand on Beth’s back so she knows he’s there. When the baby starts babbling loudly for you to come back, Steve takes the short straw and leaves you both for cuddling.
“What’s up, dad?” Avery asks, standing on a chair by the baby’s high chair, feeding her youngest sister cut up strawberries on a spoon. Dove eats her own strawberries with sliced bananas and peanut butter, the evidence of the latter staining her blue t-shirt.
Steve pats the top of Avery’s head. “Nothing much, baby. I’ve come to make you your mocktail.”
“Oh, yes! With sugar? Bethie loves the sugar.”
She doesn’t know how glad he is that she’s Beth’s big sister. “With the sugar.”
#kisses before dinner universe#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#dad!steve harrington#dad!steve harrington x reader#dad!steve harrington x mom!reader#steve harrington x afab!reader#afab!reader#mom!reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fandom#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fluff
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MILF
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that
Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things
Based on this request
“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.
Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.
Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.
You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.
Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”
“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”
Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”
Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.
“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”
“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.
“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”
You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”
“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”
Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.
“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”
“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”
You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”
Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.
You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”
You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”
Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”
Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”
You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”
The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.
After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.
You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.
Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.
You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”
Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”
You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.
“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”
You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.
Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.
Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.
You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.
“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.
You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.
“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.
Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”
No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.
You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.
***
The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.
“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.
You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”
The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.
You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.
“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.
You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”
“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.
“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”
Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”
You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”
You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.
They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.
“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”
“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.
Too smoothly.
You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.
Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”
The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.
“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.
Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”
The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.
“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”
The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.
Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”
“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”
He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.
Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”
You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”
He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.
He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.
“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”
Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”
He grins. “Proudly.”
Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.
“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.
Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.
The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.
Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”
The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.
“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”
After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”
Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.
You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#toto wolff#toto wolff imagine#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff x you#toto wolff fic#toto wolff fluff#toto wolff fanfic#toto wolff blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#toto wolff x y/n#mercedes amg f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 imagines#f1 fics
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Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.
It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.
He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?
"Satoru, calm down."
He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.
"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."
Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.
That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.
He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.
"Satoru," he sighs.
"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.
"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."
But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.
It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?
The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.
"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"My chocolate."
"Your chocolate?"
"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"
"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."
Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?
"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."
He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?
Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.
"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.
Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?
He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.
"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."
A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.
"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"
You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."
He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru drabble#satoru gojo drabble#satoru gojo imagine#jjk imagines#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru headcanons#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk#gojo x reader
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LN4 | Panic at the Disco
Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
WC: 1.3K
Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault
Masterlist
You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.
You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up.
“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.
You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.
“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose.
“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.
“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.
“Yes”
“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.
“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”
“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.
“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.
“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.
Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”
“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you.
“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”
“Lando, just send Max, please.”
“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.
You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.
“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.
Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.
Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car.
“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.
You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.
He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.
He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.
You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.
“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.
You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”
Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.
You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”
“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”
You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.
“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”
“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.
He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.
#Lando Norris#Lando#Norris#Fanfic#Fanfiction#Lando Norris fanfic#Lando Norris fanfiction#Lando fanfic#Lando fanfiction#Lando Norris x reader#Lando Norris x Y/N#Lando x reader#Lando x Y/N#Formula 1#Formula 1 fanfic#Formula 1 fanfiction#F1#F1 fanfic#F1 fanfiction#LN4 fanfic#LN4 fanfiction#LN4 x reader#LN4 x you#LN4 imagine#LN4 one shot#LN4#Lando Norris one shot#Lando Norris imagine#Lando Norris x Fewtrell!reader
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ok im waffling on about fallout instead of having breakfast but i saw a criticism of how the prisoners were treated that's stuck with me.
spoilers!
so i think the criticism wasn't incorrect, per se: it condemned the way the show portrayed the vault dweller's naive intention to rehabilitate their murderous captives. it found fault with a common, and horrible, message that tv shows like to say, which is that carcerial violence and even the death penalty is the only effective way to deal with criminals, who are a fundamentally Bad category of human. im sick of that message too! but i think that wasn't what was going on here, actually.
so like, the vault dwellers had only ever experienced violent loss the once, and didn't really know how to cope other than denial and repression of the ordeal. but they were all hopeful and enthusiastic that their prisoners, the invaders that came to kill them all and take their stuff, could be eventually welcomed into the community as their comrades. the champions of this cause were nebbishy dorks and painfully out of touch academics. this is pretty normal for how prison reformers are portrayed, if extremely fucking annoying for those of us who ARE in favor of prison reform.
but so of course when the son of the former overseer, Norm, speaks up and suggests killing the prisoners, because why should they share resources with invaders who explicitly wanted to keep hurting them? why should they show mercy to their attackers? everyone is appalled by this suggestion. because they had to reinvent the whole concept of vengeance right then and there, because grudges and cycles of violence are anathema to a bottle society like theirs. they have been raised all their lives to forgive and forget and now, put to the test, they're recommitting to this ethos: get along, let the past go, look towards the future, believe the best of everyone.
but the prisoners die, anyway. the prisoners are killed with rat poison. and the thing is that Norm who suggested it didn't do it himself. and the prison guard who's blamed for it, even though she privately agreed with Norm that the prisoners are dangerous and unforgiveable, she didn't do it either. it's not a moment of triumphant, cathartic vengeance and it doesn't prove that there's no way to negotiate with terrorists and invaders but kill them like vermin because that's not what the message is meant to be.
the message is that norm stands there in the middle of these inconvenient prisoners, these corpses dressed in his own people's uniforms, and he looks at the new overseer. and he knows that she killed them, and she knows that he knows. she wanted him to know. this is her message and he's reading her loud and clear. and he doesn't look like a guy who's just been backed up by authority, who's just been validated in his desire for the ultimate control over those who have wronged him.
he's scared and pale and the music is ominous as fuck. and he's inside the cell, he's directly in the middle of it.
because what just happened is that he realized his entire society is being held prisoner, and the overseer is the one with the rat poison. and that he doesn't know, anymore, what freedom and safety and justice actually mean, just that he doesn't have them and he doesn't know where to find them.
that's what that scene meant. not that rehabilitative justice is a pathetic delusion of people who have no idea how to make hard choices.
but that before you advocate for killing prisoners, you might want to see how big that prison is, first.
and which side of the bars you're standing on.
#fallout#look i went NUTS over the prison scene#it's gonna live in my brain for a good long while#RATS ARE A BIG THEME IN THIS SHOW#the rats that are vermin and the rats that are lab subject#both disposable#both struggling so hard to survive#both in pain and wondering what's going on and why is life so hard#both disposed of when they go where they shouldn't
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Lucky King? | L.M.
summary: Lucifer takes pride in everything he has, especially his wife.
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x wife!reader
includes: fluff, lucifer being a sweet and attentive husband and father, suggestiveness, possessiveness, that’s pretty much it (let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: okay but like, i am on serious hazbin brain rot, i have written more for HH than any other fandom so far.
Being the embodiment of pride meant that Lucifer constantly flaunted everything to his fellow sins and his people. And being the King of Hell meant he had a lot to brag about. Especially his family. God, Lucifer loved his family and would do anything to talk about them in every conversation.
An overlord meeting about movie productions on VoxFlix? Add romantic comedies, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite. Speaking with Beelzebub about her different alcoholic beverages? Make sure to make mojitos, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite.
He took pride in who he married and who his daughter was. After all, they were the royal family of Hell.
“Mom, I think it’s as tight as it can go— MOM!” Charlie’s eyes flashed red as she squealed, grabbing your arm.
“Sorry!” You tilt your head back as you let a laugh fall from your lips. “I thought you said—“
“No no no no noooo!” She turned around, eyes wide. “I think I’m good.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her crown.
Charlie beamed at you and traded places with you. “My turn!”
You hum as she tightens the corset around you, eyes flickering up toward the mirror when you hear the door creak open. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hi, my love.” He pressed a kiss to your hand and then one to Charlie’s forehead. “Hi, apple pie.” He watched his daughter tug on the strings attached to the corset, moving forward when it seemed like you were going to fall from the platform. “Charlie, what are you doing to your mother?”
“Pulling her corset tight—“ She grunted as she held the string in place, tying the back. “There.” You gave her a thumbs up as she finished, watching her glow at your silent praise.
“Gorgeous as always.” Lucifer stole you from your platform, the devil’s tail wrapping around your waist.
“You know? Vaggie is probably looking for me! I should leave…” Charlie let out an awkward laugh and fled for the door. “Text me when you need me for the entrance!”
Lucifer dipped you down, chuckling when you let out a noise of surprise. “You look breathtaking, my love. Maybe we should just skip the gala and do better activities right here—“
“Lucifer!” You lightly smack his chest, face flushed from his words. “You horny devil!”
“Says the queen of Hell.” He captured you in a quick kiss, red lipstick staining his lips. “Come on, Charlie can handle it on her own.” He squeezed your hips as you walked over to the vanity with his head resting on your bare shoulder.
You glance at your beloved with a soft look, “Luce, we didn’t coordinate a whole gala just to have our daughter host it herself.” You clip on a pair of earrings, the golden snake and apple shining through the light. “We also didn’t have these outfits made for us just for them to be wasted away on our bedroom floor.”
“I mean…” He nipped on your exposed shoulder, earning a gasp and glare. “They made you a maroon dress with a slit exposing your legs, my love.”
“Because it matches your maroon and black suit.” You turn in his arms and tug at his lapels. “Which I have to admit, kinda does it for me.”
He smirked as he slowly pushed you up against the vanity, “Yeah? Maybe we should ditch.”
“Nope.” Your hands clasped behind his neck, eyes widening when you feel one of his hands trail down to your exposed leg. “Luce…”
“You started this.” He slotted himself between your legs and continuously peppered kisses to your collarbone and neck, softly sucking. “You’re a tease.”
“Lucifer—“ Your protests were cut off with a quiet moan, but you quickly covered your mouth when hearing him chuckle. “Nope, we’re leaving now.”
Lucifer separated from you, a wide grin adorning his face as he scanned you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Let’s go then, my love.”
You raised a brow but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arm around your waist to guide you toward the ballroom. You both were quickly accompanied by your daughter as you made your way to the landing of the grand stairway.
The lights flashed off and the spotlight projected on the Morningstar family, the crowd’s voice hushed when spotting the monarchy. Lucifer gave a welcoming speech to the sinners, overlords, and sins who attended, making sure to mention his family and how they helped make the gala entirely possible. Final rounds of applause echoed through the ballroom as Lucifer finished off, letting everyone go back to their socialization and dancing.
“Mom,” Charlie caught you before you could follow Lucifer to greet his fellow sins. “Did you… Do you know why… You have bruises on your neck.” She finally mumbled out, eyes not meeting yours.
You felt yourself warm from embarrassment. Not only did your daughter tell you that you have hickeys on your neck, but you stood in the blinding lights with an audience staring at the three of you. No doubt photographers caught this and snapped photos for the internet. “Thank you for telling me, baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to murder your father.”
“Mom—“
You scanned the room before your gaze zeroed on Lucifer. He was laughing with Asmodeus before meeting your gaze and gave you a wink. Oh, he was going to pay.
“Lucifer.” You appear by his side. You give his fellow sin a quick smile but turn back to the little devil with a scowl. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around your waist. “It was nice catching up with you, Oz.”
You guided Lucifer back to a secluded hallway, eyes flashing bright red when you were alone. Within a blink of an eye, you had Lucifer pinned against the wall with your forearm.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to know that I went out there with bruises all over my neck? Or, better yet, that our daughter was the one who told me what was on my neck?” You seethed. You were beyond embarrassed and pissed, you’re surprised you haven’t become a full demon yet.
“To be fair, it was more than just your neck—“
“LUCIFER!” You use your free hand to reach up your collarbone. The room felt ten times warmer, and it didn’t help that you felt Lucifer’s devil tail decided to wrap around your calf.
He remained pinned on the wall, giving you a cheeky grin. “This is really hot.”
“Oh, my god!” You release him with a glare. “There’s going to be photos everywhere! What will the public think about—“
“Lucky king?” He shrugged as he let his fingers trail up your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Listen, we’ll get rid of the photos. But is it really a crime to show off what’s mine?”
You grumble a small response, propping your head on his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Luce.”
“I love you too, beautiful.” He chuckled.
The photos never made it outside of Pride Manor, but the teasing you received from the other sins made you flush every time. Lucifer listened to each jeer, a smirk present on his face from the constant reminder that you were in fact his.
Especially when the bruises scattered around you spelled out his initials.
©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
#august’s works 🫧#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar smut#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel self insert#hazbin hotel angst#habzin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel writing#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x helluva boss#hazbin hotel reader insert#hazbin hotel oneshots#hazbin hotel drabble#jeremy jordan#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel fic#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel blurb
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TWENTY DEGREES — VERITAS RATIO
contains: female reader, reader sits on dr ratios lap, established relationship, spoilers for dr ratio character story iii, reverse comfort, soft dr ratio, lots of banter, this is a public threat to the aeon nous: acknowledge my man before we have issues. thank you!!!
veritas has been silent. there’s a letter on his desk when you come in, one that’s a bit crumpled at the corner as though it were clutched tightly in a fist. and veritas—well, veritas has been silent since you walked in.
“hello, love,” you murmur, coming behind him to gently knead at his shoulders. they seem tense—perhaps a bit extra stiff at your touch. you frown as you murmur, “bad day? have your students been giving you trouble?”
he’s quiet for a long moment. enough that you wonder if he’ll respond at all, until a sigh breaks the silence. “there’s been an invitation,” he murmurs, slowly reaching for the letter and handing it to you.
against the signs, the rigid the posture and heavy silence, the suffocating tenseness and lifelessness of the room, you seem to brighten. to have hope. veritas is a genius—a genius that is renowned far and wide among the cosmos, and should be recognized as such. an invitation surely means he’s been recognized by nous.
it’s what you—it’s what he’s been waiting on for so long. despite the signs that should tell you no, everything about veritas and his brilliance allows you to hope yes.
perhaps that’s why it’s all the more crushing when you notice the words interastral peace corporation at the top of the paper.
“the ipc?” you ask carefully, skimming the invite, “the intelligentsia guild. i see.”
“well, do say something,” he laughs, self-deprecating and bitter as he sets his pen down. “it’s not what you were expecting, i suppose?”
“oh, veritas,” you say softly, pulling his chair from his desk and letting yourself sit on his lap. he’s silent—as silent as when you walked in, as silent as someone who harbors the crushing weight of defeat, as silent as someone who has no hope left for goals—no, dreams that are just a fingertip’s bit out of distance.
“it is an opportunity worth taking, i suppose,” he gives you a tight, barely visible smile, “if by now i have not caught nous’s gaze, then it is safe to assume that i never will at any point. it’s alright, darling.”
veritas, despite all he is, is your lover first. before he allows himself to be a genius or doctor or professor, he makes sure to love you before all. you think it’s one of the reasons it’s so easy to love him yourself—but sometimes, you wish he didn’t love you so much. not enough to plaster on a fake smile and even faker words so as not to worry you, even as his every aspiration falls through the slips of his fingers like drops of water he’ll never be able to grip onto.
“it is alright,” you nod, “but not because the intelligentsia guild is all you’ll amount to—i know what you’re thinking, veritas,” you say sternly, poking his forehead. he frowns at the sudden gesture, only to stiffen momentarily as your hands gently cup his cheeks. “it’s alright because you have shown enough people that you are worthy of any acknowledgment from nous. many men have been bestowed upon such a gaze for far less—it’s okay, veritas, and it’s okay because it is simply that your talents are meant to align with a path that doesn’t follow nous. and i am proud of you regardless of that path.”
he lets out a soft, amused huff at that through his nose, closing his eyes as he hums, “such careful words. am i that delicate? it is alright to deem a failure as just that—a failure.”
“you are not a failure, veritas,” you scold firmly, “not to me or anyone who’s seen an ounce of your achievements. for such a smart man, you really can say such silly things.”
“i wasn’t referring to myself,” his lips tug upwards a bit more, eyeing you fondly, “but it is a rather…comforting feeling to know you think so passionately of my previous achievements. i only meant a failed attempt is still a failed attempt despite the other successes, i’m afraid. it seems i’m destined for failure at receiving such an acknowledgment—but the intelligentsia guild is better than nothing.”
“is a genius only a genius if an aeon says so?” you ask softly, pecking the corner of his lips.
“of course not,” he answers instantly.
“then you believe yourself to be one, no?”
“of course, darling,” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest, “just not a genius worthy of higher praise, perhaps.”
“does the gaze of nous mean more to you than mine?” you ask with a kiss to his cheek.
he looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “such odd questions run through that head of yours,” he murmurs.
“answer the question, veritas. would the praise of nous mean more to you than mine?”
“of course not,” he indulges you, rolling his eyes as he raises a questioning brow at you.
“well then,” you grin cheekily, “it seems you’ve already gathered the highest of praise in the cosmos.”
“and who’s would that be?” he snorts, humoring you.
“mine,” you pout, “you already have my praise, you fool.”
“and it is the highest praise of the cosmos,” he agrees, leaning in to kiss you softly, sighing against your mouth as you fingers weave into the waves of his hair, stroking the dark locks and trailing to the nape of his neck.
“i’ll tell you until you believe it,” you murmur against his lips, kissing them briefly between the words, “that you’re not a failure.”
“how can i be? when i have such brilliance in my arms,” he murmurs, letting out a soft sigh in content as your nails gently scratch over his scalp soothingly.
“surely i can’t be at the top of the list of your achievements,” you roll your eyes, “you have eight phd’s, for crying out loud.”
“you sell yourself short, darling,” he chuckles, “even a man with twenty degrees still couldn’t hope to understand your many…eccentricities.”
“veritas!” you huff, slapping his arm, making him chuckle.
veritas, before he is a genius, before he is a man who aspires to claim the highest of achievements a scholar can hope achieve and join the ranks of genius society, is your lover first. there is little to be disappointed in when even despite every failed attempt, you still cozy yourself into his arms, covering him in your warmth and sheltering him in your touch, safely kept away from all the self destructive thoughts.
“now, now,” he grins teasingly, “i only meant you’re worth more than twenty degrees. it’s a compliment.”
“don’t think you can sweet talk me, you treacherous man,” you sulk, “i am the greatest gift any man could hope to receive.”
“as much as it pains me to agree with you, i’m afraid you’re right.” he shakes his head, the beginnings of a smile forcing along the edges of his lips as he looks at you with something crossed between wonder and affection.
“i’m proud of you, veritas,” you remind him one more time, softly, “not simply because i love you. because you impress me every day, in ways no one manages to.”
“is that so?” he tilts his jaw, letting you kiss the angle of it sweetly.
“yes,” you whisper in between feather-light kisses.
“then that is enough,” he closes his eyes.
nous when i catch you nous. when i catch you nous. when. i. catch. you. nous. 🔪
#writing tag#veritas x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#dr ratio x reader#veritas x you#hsr x you#honkai star rail x you#dr ratio x you#veritas fluff#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff#dr ratio fluff
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phone call ⟡ p.sh
syn being on call with your ex-boyfriend wasn't the best move — but it also wasn't the worst...
wc 861 && trope second chance romance(?) mlist
note 🗒️ ; Hi. Ending is opened ended so Please don't Sob and yell at me in the Comments 🤗🤗 the end was kinda rushed so idk but anyway this was also inspired by a thriller book that i'm reading and i found this small scene pretty cute :p
"Sunghoon, I miss you"
The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You didn't mean to say it — you didn't even realize you were thinking about it. "Sorry — that's the wine talking," you explain quickly. You pray he doesn't hang up.
He's quiet for a moment. Good job y/n — you thought — you just stated you missed your ex to your ex, stupid.
"Well, now it's the Sunghoon talking," he says with a chuckle.
You feel your heart do a flip. You missed this, too — his dumb, foolish jokes. You believed it was one of his best charms. You remember him telling you that eating miso soup made him "miso happy." "That's horrible," You'd say giggling.
"Oh please, you love it," He'd reply, and you did.
The phone is quiet again.
Until finally: "So what do you miss about me?"
You wished he just hung up. Or never picked up the phone call from you. "I miss..." You begin, hoping that the sentence will continue itself. Everything you want to say, but you don't.
You think about it for a moment, being careful of what you say to your ex on the phone. "I miss your bushy eyebrows," you say, like an idiot.
You find yourself staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, thinking. "I miss the smell of your cologne. I miss you complaining about how I always steal your hoodies. I miss your touch. I miss how polite you are to people. I miss having late-night talks with you before going to sleep together."
You laid yourself down on the bed, the bed that you both used to share. "I miss our light hearted bickering." The first "argument" you both got into was over pancakes and waffles — you thought waffles were better than pancakes and he thought the opposite. It was stupid — stupidly funny. You remember the look on his face when you said your claim, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw dropped.
"I miss teaching you english and your cute accent when you say things. I miss how you pronounced "ate" as "ete." You hear his chuckle through the phone and you laugh, too. You find yourself crying. "I miss your stupid, stupid dad jokes. I miss calling you handsome and you'd respond with an 'I know' with a stupid fucking grin."
"Language."
"Sorry." You sniff.
"Are you-are you crying?"
"No, shut up."
You pause.
"I miss you so much."
Another pause.
"I love you so much." You let out a shaky breath. You didn't care at this point, you just miss him. You miss him, You love him.
There's a silence, a long one. You breath in.
"I'm not good for you, y/n," the playful banter that was in the room two minutes ago left the atmosphere.
"I'm- I wish I was, and if I were I would've stayed. I would've stayed with you. But I'm not."
"Yes you are. You are good for me. I still want you Hoon, I don't care if you're bad for me. I- I just want you."
His breath hitched. You hear him let out a soft "fuck" before breaking the silence.
"Sorry," You mumbled. Sunghoon clears his throat before replying.
"No- I mean uh...Don't be sorry. It's fine, it's just-um,"
"It's just...just what?"
"I miss- fuck- I miss you too, y/n. I miss you a lot," he continues. You can tell by his words that he's nervous. After all, you did date him for 4 years.
A third pause, lasting longer than the two previous ones in this call. You wonder if this phone call was a bad idea. A drunken mistake. You want to bury yourself.
You hear him let out a sigh. "I'm sorry a broke your heart. I'm- well I was- I was being stupid."
"You should be sorry, you bastard," you say jokingly. You hope he laughs. He does, and you feel yourself smile.
"Y/n," he says. You hum in response.
"Do you maybe...um...perhaps start over?" Oh. Oh. You weren't expecting that. "Are you fucking serious, Park?" You ask in disbelief.
"Yes. Also, language." You giggle at this response.
"Right. Sorry." You let out another giggle. To which you assume it's the wine taking more effect on you. How much did you drink again?
"I can give you some time to think about it, if you'd like to think about it,"
"Sure...I mean it's not like I just cried to you on call and told you how much I missed you." He chuckles at this.
"You aren't wrong, but I assumed it was the wine."
"Maybe. Maybe not." You press your lips together before saying something.
"I will think about it, Hoon. And I'll tell you my answer when I make up my mind. Ok?"
"Yeah. That's-that's fine with me. I'm...I'm gonna hang up now. Goodnight, Y/n."
"Okay Hoon. Goodnight to you too."
"I love you too, if you were wondering. I never stopped and never will. Even if I wanted to."
You feel yourself blush. He ends the call and you hear the beeps from your phone. You let out a sigh and feel your eyes close on you.
permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @ms-no1kpopstan @naespas @kyoaeri @copyhanni @lilacnini
#⎯ 박성훈 ( hoon ) ㅤ✧ ࣪ 🐧#enhypen#enha#enhypen au#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha x reader#enhablr#my works! ˙✧˖⋆｡˚#sunghoon#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon angst#park sunghoon#sunghoon fluff#park sunghoon smut#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon fluff#enhypen sunghoon#enha scenarios#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smut#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon smut#sunghoon enhypen#📷 ﹆ׂׂ ˖ series : paparazzi#sunghoon smau#enhypen smau#enhypen x reader
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𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝟐
f!reader x PT!Jamie (modern au) 1.5k words
summary: reader has a bad gym experience and jamie gets protective
cw: working out, mention of potential injury, mentions of sexual harrassment (ass grabbing)
sidenote, that I've seen a lot of this behaviour in the gym before and it makes me sick. writing about it and imagining how jamie would handle it makes me less sick. imagining big strong pt!james making the world better, one set of keys at a time. please, always be aware of your surroundings if you are working out at the gym, especially alone <3
James pulls you out from under the bar of the smith machine by the hips seconds before it clatters to the ground with a sickening thud and clang of metal. You stumble under his harsh hands, land on the ground at his feet and let out a pained whoosh of breath. Luckily, the gym is empty save for the two of you, sparing you the embarrassment of having people watch the commotion.
He's on you in an instant, gentle hands that cradle your neck as he crouches in front of you and pushes your head from side to side with a little pressure from his thumbs. All you can do is blink, try to process what, exactly, just happened. "You're not sore here?" James asks you, brows furrowed and almost touching in the middle, his fingers pressing into the base of your neck.
Your first thought is that James doesn't suit frowning. A silly thought, considering you almost decapitated yourself with a one hundred kilogram squat rack. "No. Just my ass from crash landing." You don't fail to notice the way your voice sounds distant, detached.
James' hands are warm on your neck, a burning touch that you want to lean into. You don't, and it's gone as James collapses down across from you, his elbows resting against his knees. His face turns stern, "What's going on?"
You feel like you're being scolded, and maybe you should be. It's a well known fact that form is everything, that being distracted in the gym can lead to serious injuries. You'd known you wouldn't be able to focus today, you'd known you should've stopped that set and corrected yourself when you could feel the weight more in your back than your legs. But, you hadn't. You're distracted, you're angry. You'd walked into the gym full of frustration and it'd almost ended terribly.
Tears fight their way to your eyes and they burn. You feel a lump forming in your throat that forces you to look away from James. Kind, patient James, who allows you the moment to collect yourself as you pull your legs to your chest. "Shitty week." It comes out mumbled, your voice defeated.
James nods understandingly. "A shitty week doesn't make you lose focus like that, though. There's something more to it."
It's not like James to push. He's friendly and he's kind, he can be a menace when he wants to be, and sometimes you even think he's flirting with you - but he never pushes. You want to open up, you want to step out of that weird area of professionalism you can never seem to get past with him. But unloading your shitty week on him doesn't feel like the way to do that. So you shrug, pulling your knees to your chest until your chin rests atop them, "I'm just stressed. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I knew my form was wrong but I was too distracted to stop and fix it."
"I don't care that your form was wrong," James shakes his head as though offended you'd think such a thing, "I mean," He pauses, searching for the words, "Obviously, I care that it was wrong because you almost got hurt. But what I mean is that you should've told me you were stressed, that you were feeling a bit distracted."
You find yourself nodding, eyes downcast at your crossed ankles.
"I was waiting for you to correct the form yourself. If I knew you were distracted, I'd have told you to stop. I'm sorry, too." James' voice has turned soft, less stern. He nudges his foot until it's in your line of vision, tapping it against yours until you're looking up.
He's waiting with a smile, his eyes gentle and patient. It feels odd. New, foreign. You can't really describe the feeling. "A guy grabbed my ass in the gym, yesterday." You breathe out, unsure really of what it is that's made you tell him.
It could be that you trust him. It's hard not to build trust with someone in James' position, it's literally his job to stop things like one hundred kilogram bar bells falling on top of you. Or, it could be that not telling anyone, reliving how powerless you'd felt, going over everything you could've done differently, it's eating you alive. Sharing this with James, who sees every day what gyms are like, how people in some gyms behave, you have a feeling that he'll get it. That he'll help you process.
But, he doesn't say anything. Just stares with a look that you can't read. The muscles in his arms shift, his hands clenching around each other tightly, and his jaw clenches. You think he might not say anything, though, you know James is better than that. The silence stretches until the tears in your eyes abate, then James finally croaks, "He what?"
Your veins crackle with the anger in his voice, the darkness that clouds his eyes. You'd never have imagined James in such a light if he wasn't sitting right in front of you, the very picture of livid. You shrug, as though feigning nonchalance might abate the white hot anger you know very well the feeling of. "I was doing those stupid kick back thingies you're always on about. Just messing about as a cool down, trying to correct my own form. He came over and started giving me advice, which I thought was just him being nice."
James shakes his head, remorse like a white sheet of dread across his beautiful face. You swallow, picking at a hangnail on your thumb, "He kind of just," You shift your hands as though grabbing your own hips, "Grabbed me like that and my throat went dry. When he was leaving he grabbed my ass and said 'you're welcome'."
"You didn't report him to the gym staff?"
You shake your head, lip trapped between your teeth. "I wasn't even planning on telling you until I nearly killed myself with the smith machine."
James sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his face. He looks nauseous, almost. "I'll get you a set of keys for this gym. You can work out here, from now on. No one will bother you."
It's a nice offer. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks heat. James has always gone above and beyond. He fits you into his schedule despite your crazy work hours and never charges you for the session if you have to cancel day of. But the reason you don't have a membership at his gym is because it's not in your price range. So you smile, kind, if a little tight lipped, "James, you know I can't."
"I'm not saying get a membership. I'm saying I'll get you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please, even after work, whatever time you want." His voice is thick, his eyes earnest and almost pleading.
"I can't ask you to do that."
James scoots closer, fingers flexing as though he might reach out for you, but is stopping himself. He chases your gaze, waits until he has it, until your lips part under the weight of it and your heart hammers against your chest, to speak. "You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't believe that happened to you and it makes me so angry. I'm not going to sit by and do nothing about it."
You sigh, unwilling to argue when James sounds so passionate, so sure of himself. A smile makes its way to your lips, timid, unsure, "Thanks, Jamie."
He nods. "Any time."
"Are you sure the owner won't mind?" You ask.
James grins, some of the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, "He's my best mate, it'll be fine."
He offers you a hand as he stands, the storm clouds passing and the weight already lifting from your chest. It feels brighter, in the gym. You take James' hand, let him pull you up. He does his signature move of tugging you until you're stumbling towards him, his laugh echoing off of the concrete walls when you curse him out for it.
"Start from the beginning?" James asks, moving to return the smith machine to where you need it to be.
You take a breath, watch the way his shoulder muscles strain against his top as he bends and lifts. It brings a smile to your lips, the feeling of familiarity you hadn't felt upon entering the gym earlier. "I believe I was at five reps when I dropped the bar."
James tsks, "Dropping it doesn't count as a rep. Call it four."
"Cruel."
James only winks, offers you his award winning smile as you settle yourself under the bar. This time, with the correct form. He nods, and you twist to unlock, eyes on his in the mirror.
"That's one." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.
You consider dropping the bar on his head, next.
#james potter#james potter fic#james potter imagine#james potter oneshot#james potter x reader#james potter x f!reader#james potter fluff#james potter angst#marauders#marauders era#marauders fic#marauders imagine#sirius black#remus lupin#fourmoony#angst#love#fluff#smut#pt!jamie#pt!james potter#pt!james
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Seeing people talk about Tommy and Buck but making a parenthesis beforehand to clarify that they still ship Buddie it's kind of upsetting me ngl. People, you can simply say you enjoy Buck and Tommy without feeling guilty or like you're betraying another ship. Also, multi shipping is a thing, you can root for both, prefer them in a different order, not care which one is endgame, there's nothing wrong with that.
But also. When did it start to be okay to attack people because of a ship? When was it normalized that anything other than Buddie was wrong? Why is it controversial to say that you're enjoying what's happening in the show? What's wrong with liking a character's journey?
You don't need to clarify anything about buddie when you're talking about bucktommy, because it's not about them. People making you feel like you should is actually repulsive, people being mean to you because you dared to have an opinion different to their own is wild and way too common.
Enjoy what you want without justifying it. More than ever when it's about shipping.
#911 abc#911 fox#911onabc#911#tevan#bucktommy#kinley#buddie#evan buck buckley#evan buckley#eddie diaz#edmundo diaz#tommy kinard#shipping
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HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT ; MSC47
childhood friends to lovers! mick schumacher x verstappen!reader . . . when push comes to shove, you would never admit to having a crush on mick as you grew older. this however ends up with you convincing yourself that he would never love you outside the platonic relationship you built through the years, despite all evidence pointing to the obvious— he loves you, but you think not.
amgf this has been plaguing my mind, and after writing atrocious angst (ybom) i'm here to write a palate cleanser on my mind 😔 i also chose to write this instead of study for a chemistry exam, i keep making the wrong decisions but seeing as i made this was it so wrong??? i think not. enjoy like always 👍
yourusername
liked by mickschumacher, maxverstappen1, and 76,863 others
yourusername some things never change 🐻
view comments...
user1 and now what? what are we?????
user2 awww baby mick and baby yn are adorable
user3 the way yn is more attached to mick than max
user4 i remember in an interview where jos said when he couldn't find yn he'd look for mick since he was a tall boy
user5 wait where? when was this?
user6 in an old interview, idk when but it was with michael as well
user7 they're actually so adorable, oh my gosh
mickschumacher terrorizing the earth, one forest at a time, here's to more hikes in the future 💖
yourusername you bet i'll be there, it's scary how we aren't sick of each other yet
mickschumacher i mean it's you, why would i be sick of you?
yourusername as you should!!! i'm great to be with
maxverstappen1 mick is just too kind to kick you out
yourusername you're jealous we kicked you out!
user8 they're actually all that's in my head
user9 how are they not dating????
user10 because people of different sex can be friends?
user11 i get the shipping but they're good as friends so why?
user12 i mean they look good together, it's just wishful thinking
user13 oh imagine having a good looking childhood friend and not dating them, ofc they've been friends for so long wtf
user14 i mean, they are a good match so, leave people alone for shipping them
user15 they may be a good match but it's still weird so idgaf you're wrong
mickschumacher
liked by yourusername and 726,947 others
mickschumacher with the feel of your hand on mine 🐇
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user16 oh gosh please help them realize what they're made for each other
user17 i was so convinced they're just friends but then mick pulls shit like this
user18 i can't keep on defending you if you do this???? boy?
yourusername if you hadn't held my hand then and there i would've flown away
mickschumacher okay that's exaggerating, but as if i'd let that happen
yourusername because it was so strong, you were holding my hand tightly
mickschumacher are you complaining or thanking me?
yourusername thank you mick 🫡 you're the bestest friend ever
user19 they're actually driving me insane
user20 even the wind ships them
user21 don't you think that's the universe making a sign to both of you?
user22 "as if i'd let that happen" okay mick, wtfffff why is he doing this?
user23 they can't keep doing this and just pulling the best friend card at the end, they need to hold responsibility for us
liked by maxverstappen1
user24 bro max liked????
user25 what does he know? wym??? max oomf, why are you liking this comment?
user26 max is tired of their bullshit i know
user27 if max is tired we can be of help, i for one am volunteering out of the goodness of my heart and not because of my nosy ass
user28 okay yn and mick you can share it with the class
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yourusername a week of mick 🐻
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user29 yn is with mick instead of being at a grand prix????
user30 you're telling me they're just friends? shut up actually
user31 i'm deluding myself and saying they're dating
user32 they're so cute (they're driving me crazy 😮💨😩😭😀😊🥹😠)
mickschumacher thank you for watching me hase
yourusername ofc!!!! i am your number one fan bärchen 💖
maxverstappen1 is this the important thing you have going on?
yourusername yes it is, it's not like you won or smth
maxverstappen1 wow... am i going to have to steal you from mick now?
yourusername bold of you to assume i would leave mick
user33 they're actually insane wtgfhfjg
yourusername uploaded a new story
[look, it's a bear!] [jk it's my boyfriend hehehehe]
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user34 OH NOOOO
user35 is this MICK? hello? mick stand up??!
user36 what about mick 🥹
user37 a soft launch out of nowhere? wth????
user38 this is mick? it's Mick isn't it? please tell me tkzusbdkajdj I NEED TO KNOW!NNN
mickschumacher you're evil hase, what have you done
i want to have you to myself a little longer, is that so wrong 😠
mickschumacher i don't think anyone can have me like you do
YEAH!! that's right, i love you bärchen 💖
mickschumacher i love you hase 💖
#f1 smau#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#mick schumacher smau#mick schumacher fluff#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher imagine
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"So it's true! You and her- Guizhong were a thing. Then what the hell does that make me Morax?!" "Can you just drop it of? We're in a hurry." He was tired. And their friend was in danger. "No! Knowing you'll be out there to save your other lover, tell me the truth Morax! Is it true?!" It was the same topic of argument for some time now. He had been denying it over and over again, he just cannot seem to understand why you kept insisting even after hearing him say that was not the case. And he was getting tired of it.
Guizhong was just a friend and that very same friend is now in danger if they do not arrive at rhe right time and here he is getting hold up because of your questions. And knowing you would not let him go even if he were to deny it because that was the truth. Maybe he should give in for now to avoid further more questioning and leave as fast as he can so he could come back to you in now time, knowing that he could easily resolve the misunderstanding and his lies. "You know what. It's true. Now if you just get out of the way, I need to save her." "Wha-what? Wa-wait! Morax-!"
He did not mean to be harsh than he already is. He was just mad, mad because he saw no reason why you should get jealous of a friend, a common friend of yours. Mad because he was running late and a little more than to it could possibly result the death of a dear friend. At the same time, he was mad at himself for leaving that way. But he knew he could always explain when he came back into you. The two of you could always sort it out after the battle like you two always does.
So why? So why in the world- celestia were everything was on fire. And you were in the middle of it, leaning on your weapon for support, blood running down all the way from your temple into your chin. It was not just that. You are bleeding, bleeding all over. Why. Why why why why why? Just what the hell happened in here?
"Don't come." You utter, despite the fact that you could barely stand, you painfully look forward to your lover... heh, can he still be called a lover when he already admitted that he betrayed you? "Some..." you pant. "Some beings came into the city while you were away... hahh, I manage to defend the city until all the people manage to flee but- cough! Hahh, the god manage to escape."
"No. No no no no no." It was getting hard to breathe, nevertheless you should see Morax from afar, running towards you. "Bastard- I told you not to come he-!" You stagger forward, for a moment losing consciousness, still, you embrace yourself with the thought of you hitting the ground. But you never did.
"Let go." "It was a lie. There was no one else." "Morax- I said-" "I was in a hurry, I did not mean to say those words. Guizhong was only a friend. Believe me. God- Celestia. There is no one else. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me." He was hugging, cradling you in his arms. His tears rolling down his cheeks, into your own but you were feeling quite numb to notice that.
"It's..." You tried to hold up a hand but you could only feel the pain and the more it drains you. In the end you could only hold on into his arm. "It's okay... you don't have to lie to make me... feel better." You tried to smile to make him feel better, so why does it look like he was about to lose his whole world? "No. No please. It's nothing like that. I was a fool, I am a fool. Please believe me there is no one else but you. (First name). Please."
You knew he was talking, you can see him talking despite how things were slowly starting to go blurr, you can hear a few words but cannot seemed to focus on it when there is a high pitched ring that makes you unable to focus on what he was saying. Also, "It's cold." You mumble, fighting everything you can to stay conscious.
"Fuck!" Morax can feel your body slowly but surely cooling down. Suddenly his heart dropped as he panicked, he was getting anxious. He felt fear for the first time in his life. "Hold on, please hold on." He tried, he tried his best to fix you with his powers but it was no avail. You have so many wounds, you have already lost a lot of blood. You were dying all ago. "Fuck." He cursed once again. "Fuck, fuck! I told you to hold on (First name)!" He was getting mad again.
Morax felt like he was going mad, he felt like he was about to get crazy. Specially when he saw you starting to close your eyes. He felt a shiver down his spine. "Don't you dare close your eyes (First name)!" Not like this, not when you seemed to sure that he never loved- love you. "Fuck!" His amber iris were glowing with that presence of a dragon. "Don't you dare fell asleep (First name). I'm begging you please-?" He felt a light squeeze on his arm.
"Its.. okay." Taking your last breath, Morax felt the heavy weight of your now dead body in his arms. Your hand falling to your side as your head rest in his chest. At that very moment a rain drop fell from the sky, Morax arms were trembling yet still manage to pull you closer to him as if trying to find a little warmth. "Hah, hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA."
That day, the dragon lost his mate. His one and only mate as his anguish cries were heard all throughout their land.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
: bye, may klase pa ko ng alas quatro sa hapon.
: Also, why is it always zhongli who become the victim of my angst ideas. Tho I might make a same promt with ???
#dark night hero#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact angst#genshin impact fanfic#genshin angst#genshin drabbles#genshin zhongli#genshin guizhong#zhongli headcanons#genshin impact zhongli#zhongli x reader#zhongli#zhongli angst#zhongli x you#zhongli x yn#morax x you#morax x y/n#morax x reader#genshin morax#genshin impact morax#morax#genshin x y/n#genshin impact imagines#hatdog
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Hi! (just a personal ask. Sorry if it's not okay to ask for advice out of nowhere but I wanted to see an outer perspective and didn't wanna ask my friends. No pressure to answer of course but I would love to hear your thoughts!)
Is it normal for me to feel overwhelmed about something I want? I am just starting med school and it's a lot but I am fighting. And in my culture, parents buy their daughters their like things?? (like towels and bed sheets and a fridge. Anything they can buy except the apartment basically) for marriage from a young age. But my mom just started recently. And when she first bought me something. The idea of getting married & being a doctor (both things I want) felt like too much I teared up. My mom said I was being spoilers I guess?? Like I was ruining a good moment? Of course it is not that serious since I wasn't outright crying, and I just laughed afterwards as I felt silly lol ,but It got me thinking if I was being that dramatic.
This honestly felt like the moment in the movie where the mom hugs her daughter and says something like "oh how much you've grown" . Her retort felt like it was out of the script.
If you find time to answer, please be extremely blunt. Because I know for a fact I have a tendency to exaggerate things.
You are not overreacting. You are not exagerrating things. And I'm going to tell you this, because I experience this, the tendency to downplay your own feelings and recollections of events very often comes from having other people do it to you first. People tell you your feelings are wrong, or stupid, or irrational, and you learn to listen to them instead of yourself.
It makes complete sense that coming up on a major cultural milestone would make you feel excited, or scared, or overwhelmed. It sounds like you came upon the first step of a very big change and the reality of it all hit you at once, which sounds completely normal and expected!
Fuck, *I* used to get that about moving houses, and YOU'RE expecting shit like marriage? Holy fuck! I'd be a complete mess! The fact that you're level-headed enough to ask questions and process your feelings and talk things through is impressive, because I think I'd be losing my mind.
Personal story, but when I turned 17, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a restaurant to celebrate. When I told her that it sounded nice, but I'd rather have dinner at home with the family, she told me I was a selfish narcissist, and that I was so busy thinking of myself that I didn't consider that other people might have been excited to go out.
At the time, I thought she'd been harsh but ultimately correct.
Now, I see that she had decided what kind of perfect evening she had wanted, and had expected me to play the part in the movie she had written herself. It had never been about what I wanted at all- it had been about her personal desires and expectations.
And it's normal to feel frustrated about things that don't go the way we want or expect, but lashing out at others is not an appropriate way to handle those emotions.
The way we feel cannot be controlled like a machine. The way we feel is usually not a problem. The problem is what we do, and the choices we make based on those feelings.
Children throw tantrums and sat mean things because they haven't learned better yet. They don't have the practice or experience. Adults like your mother and mine should have that on lock, but often don't, especially if culture or tradition or social expectations tell them their actions are justified.
If I had to take take guess, I'd say it sounds like your mom gave you this gift with an idea in mind of how she wanted you to react. She probably wanted you to be grateful and praising and sweet, so she could fulfill the role she envisioned for herself, and when you deviated from that picture, she was disappointed. From that perspective, it would seem that she felt slighted, and that she was owed your gratitude, and you were at fault for withholding it.
This perspective makes sense, in an emotionally immature sort of way, but would completely overlook your feelings, which are just as important.
Your exact situation is not one I've been in before, but if I'm correct in my assumptions (which I may not be) then I'd suggest keeping an eye out for other instances of your perspective and feelings being minimized.
Are you often told you are behaving irrationally? That you're over-emotional? That you're self-centered or greedy or entitled? Are you told that you don't remember things or do things as you're told? That you see problems where there aren't any? That you male trouble where there is none? That certain conversations aren't worth having, or that "you're always like this"?
It sounds like you know that something is off. I'd encourage you to keep asking questions and follow your instincts. At the end of the day, your life is your own, no matter where it came from.
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Having a baby with Leon (Accidental Pregnancy)
Cw: Talks of sex but no actual sex, talks of abortion, and alcoholism
Vendetta Leon who meets you in a shitty bar one night. He brings you home on a whim to his pigsty of an apartment. Fully expecting you to go running immediately but you stay. Clearing a place off on the couch and talking over beers.
Vendetta Leon who's shocked when you ask for his number after waking up together. Curled up on the couch, cuddling someone for the first time in forever. Enjoying someone's company again instead of shutting people out.
Vendetta Leon that actually sees a friend in you. Knows you're good for him but feels like he doesn't deserve good with everything he's had to do to survive and protect people.
Vendetta Leon who tries keeping you at arms length. Labeling this as a friends with benefits situation. Nothing more. The first time you sleep together tends to replay in his mind a lot. Seeing how beautiful you were. How hungry you were for each other. How both of you seemed to aim to please. It was nothing short of perfection to him.
Vendetta Leon who gave you a key to his place without even thinking about it. It just be easier for the both of us. Or so he claims. Knowing he could easily just keep you away from his apartment, it's not like you didn't let him come over whenever he wanted. But no matter where you were home was with you. Even if he couldn't admit it.
Vendetta Leon who starts getting more and more stressed from work. Sees you almost every night and one thing always leads to another. Tipsy, buzzed or sober. It's been like this for months and he loves seeing you so frequently. But his brain keeps telling him he'll just mess it up if he tries moving past what you have right now.
Vendetta Leon who gets called away for work again. Needs to go off and save the world for the millionth time. Tells you he'll miss you while he's away. He didn't mean to, it just slipped out. But he doesn't take it back, he just waves it off. More concerned about how you said you weren't feeling well when he got to your place. Deciding to stay the night and just cuddle before he leaves in the morning.
Vendetta Leon who comes back from New York City. A bit paranoid because you haven't returned any of his texts or calls. Hoping something bad didn't happen while he was away. Walking into his apartment he drops his bag in shock...
Vendetta Leon who stares at a spotless apartment. Everything back in place where it should be. He finds a letter and your key on the coffee table. The letter saying how you can't deal with this anymore and you couldn't say goodbye without at least giving him a gift of a clean home and hopefully a clean conscience.
Vendetta Leon who gets upset, trying to call you repeatedly. This doesn't feel like you. Did you find someone? Did you not actually care about him the entire time?! You shared so much with each other, he trusted you enough to let you in.
Vendetta Leon who slams his phone into the couch as his calls go straight to voicemail. Something's wrong... He can tell. He knows you well enough that you wouldn't be ghosting him like this without a reason. So he decides, against his better judgement, to just go over to your apartment.
Vendetta Leon who decides to knock until you open the door, he's a stubborn man and wants answers. The door opens, an older man glaring at him.
"Yes?" He didn't expect you to have company over. Who the hell is this? Have you actually found someone in the span of a few days? Was he really that replaceable?? His attention snaps back, the older man staring him down. He stutters out your name before clearing his throat.
"Is she here?"
"My daughter's at the doctor's with her mother right now." Oh, this is your father. Thank God. "She should be back soon."
"Is everything okay?" The older man sighs, rubbing his eyes, he looks tired and agitated.
"It better be, she's carrying my grandchild."
Leon who feels his heart fall through his body. You're pregnant... And he's definitely the father. There's quite literally no way he isn't, you've been spending almost every waking minute together in the past 6 months unless you're the next virgin Mary.
Leon, the father of your child who listens your father ramble about some bum knocking up his precious babygirl... He bites his tongue, asking your father to PLEASE make sure you call him.
Leon who sits in his clean apartment with not so clean conscience. Feeling the dirtiest he's ever been before. How could he be so stupid and careless? The few times you didn't use protection he'd thought nothing would happen. He knows you take birth control. It's got a high success rate, he wouldn't have to worry. It's not like he didn't want kids, he even liked loved the woman who'd be blessing him with a child.
This could be his last chance of normalcy.
Leon who nearly throws himself towards his phone when it vibrates. A text from you. Announcing that you'll be coming over.
Leon who feels his bones vibrate seeing you for the first time in days, the glow on your skin more obvious that he knows you're carrying his child. You look beautiful, though you always look beautiful.
"Look..." You storm past him into his own apartment. He shuts the door behind you and follows you to the couch. "I knew you'd freak out if I told you... We're both kind of fucked up I didn't want-"
"Are you keeping the baby?" He's blunt and to the point when asking his questions. He always is.
"I don't know... The doctor said I'm probably only a month along." You look so unsure of yourself. "What... What do you think I should do?"
"Keep them." Your eyes go wide as he smiles softly.
"What?"
"Keep the baby... I want it. I want you. If you'll have me." You stare in shock, blinking as he steps forward and brings you into his chest. "Did you think I would freak out and bail?"
"Leon... We're both heavy drinkers and we've been dancing around each other since we met. I figured cutting you loose was the best option."
"Well, then we'll just have to clean up our acts together I guess... For ourselves and the baby."
Leon who reassures you you can both grow. Put in the effort of fixing yourselves. Together.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#resident evil x reader#🌿 ivy writes#🌿 ivy replies#leon s kennedy
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