#right now I can’t say I can’t help it because they don’t really listen to that which sounds sucky but they’re not I promise

[voxisdaddy]

Old Fashioned

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Headcanons

Featuring: Alastor, Rosie

C/TW: Stalking, Swearing, mentions of porn, use of (y/n)

In which Vox could go full stalker mode on his crush, Reader, but reader doesn’t use much technology and avoids VoxTek appliances.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I personally headcanon that Vox, while yes can use any technology to his advantage, only VoxTek products can give him full advantage of his powers.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Which is infuriating when on his cameras, he spotted you using your phone and was confused on why he couldn’t easily hack into it. He couldn’t get into it. What the fuck?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It wasn’t until he spotted you again some time later in some tech store looking at some phone cases. He watched as you pealed your old phone case off, revealing a phone that was not a VoxTek phone.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ No; it was a rival companies. Not quite as rich and empowering as VoxTek, but still a rival company nonetheless.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He hates that company.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ They even started out doing some of his own sales just days after release.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Well that’s just great. But not a total loss. Perhaps he could get his advertisement team to push for more advertisements on well, anything and everything.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Over the next several days he tried that before realizing he has no way to check if it’s you know, reaching you

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Why? Because you don’t even have a TV in your place! Which he found through following you on his cameras around Pride

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “What person in todays world doesn’t have a television?” He grits through his teeth, starring at your door through a security camera

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Well you apparently and he found out through an online web forum or comment section, whatever suits your fancy, you used one night

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “I don’t really have a use for a tv” something along those lines

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Through some more stalking and hacking he was finally able to get somewhere. Not through any appliance unfortunately, but you had fortunately downloaded a thing which had a VoxTek bug attached to it. Success!!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He was able to hack the phone, not to its fullest potential but still enough for now, and would have it on one of his monitors constantly. It’s here where he learned through your screen time in your phone settings that you hardly use the thing

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Occasionally he sees you’re active using it however, to which he’s quick to drop whatever it is he’s doing to you know, watch you do whatever it is you’re doing on your phone. It’s mildly annoying to those around him

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ But he can’t help it! Who do you text? Do you have a partner? Are you on dating apps? Do you watch porn and if so, which kind do you like?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He doesn’t really learn much, or as much and the specifics he’d like, but it’s something. Ah so this is the music you like to listen to whenever the radio isn’t playing it, huh? You have a few pictures… several notes in your notes app… some app to text only a small handful of people on occasion. He wonders if suddenly following you on the app would be too much.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I mean, your account isn’t exactly anything special to the public eye per say. And even if it was, you certainly weren’t on it or gave much of a crap on it. So Vox’s suddenly millions and millions of followers on his account would probably raise some questions from you. But that would be good right? Maybe you’d shoot him a message asking why he followed you, and your relationship starts there! You can officially meet for the first time! Okay it would be through text but it still counts!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ For this headcanons post, I’m keeping in mind that the reader is before the 2000’s time. So anywhere between the near start of hell to the 90’s lol

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Which if Vox found this out, he’d be a little confused. He died or relatively came around the 1950’s, he knew people from the 1930’/, who still use todays technology. Are you this much of an old soul to really not use anything like todays tech to your daily entertainment? And no—using the alarm doesn’t count!! He can’t even see you so…

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You know how I said you avoid VoxTek appliances? Wanna know why?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “FUCKING ALASTOR!”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox glitches out in a rage when on his cameras, he saw you sitting around a table with Rosie and Alastor.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Oh and I guess—FUCKING ROSIE—!” Hey he’s an inclusive guy.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh ho! So you’re acquainted with those two? The old fucks that even Zestial seems more youthful compared to at times. Vox curses out the two overlords further. Your acquaintances now making sense why you don’t use technology and specifically avoid Vox’s. Yeah. They’re definitely intentionally leading you away from anything VoxTek. And you seemed to have no issue with that? Wtf!?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “(Y/n) dear, I heard rumours that you were seeking a new place to call home. Might I ask how that’s going?” Alastor glitches out his cameras but it was doing for now, Vox grumbled.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ So you’re moving huh? Oh well. Vox isn’t particularly worried. He’s got cameras all over Pride. He’d be able to find your new home quickly and who knows, maybe it’ll be more convenient to stalk you then!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Oh yes, Alastor! Rosie has been such a peach in helping me find a suitable place for me to move into. Why I’m quite proud to announce that I am now a home owner! No more little apartments for me.” You’d share a little snack with Rosie. That snack catering to your taste or hers is up to you.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Ah… a house. Okay apartment builders are required to have security cameras in their general areas and hallways so a house and if you’d even put up security cameras might cause some issue but still. Their would be cameras around your neighborhood or whatever, right? And you’d still have your phone on you so at least theirs still that for Vox to keep an eye on you—

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Darling, I’m so glad you finally decided to move into Cannibal Town!” Vox froze at Rosie’s words.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Cannibal Town? Fucking Cannibal Town?? Old 1920’s town with carcasses to feed off of at nearly every corner? Really?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox barley has cameras in Cannibal Town! He has a few, hence why he can stalk your lunch session right now with Rosie and Alastor, but it’s one of the very few cameras he has up here. What was wrong with your old place?! Vox screams and you just so happen to conveniently answer—ah how nice.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “My current apartment is less than desirable for my tastes. Too much loud obnoxious music, distasteful lyrics, horrendous billboards, flashing lights and way too much modern technology. Call me old but that Vee stuff really gives me a headache.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox swears that shit eating grin Alastor threw at seemingly nothing was thrown specifically at Vox in that moment.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox needs to meet you soon. Surely you’d fall in love with him. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity but you seem to just be getting further away the more he waits.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Just please don’t toss out your phone. That’s like the one modern thing you have. It’s all he has.

Guess who’s sleep schedule is (kind of) fixed and can actually start posting requests and general reader stuff on a moderately decent schedule?? Meeee

I got so much requests to work on (I encourage more to be sent though please I like having these things to work on) and I’m very excited to post more lol

#hazbin hotel #x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #vox hh

[dazednmatthews]

hey hot stuff i’m feeling the need to be self indulgent (feel free to ignore me LOL) but a matt headcanon with his gf in the middle of exams? late night study sesh and such🥹 i love you

- mads 🪽(@hollandsangel)

bf!matt x stressed college gf headcanons

sorry this took so long!! i had a… hectic day to say the least. i hope this does ur request justice 🫶🏾 i love u bad

-matt is the type of bf to never ever want to see you stressed

-he’s gonna do whatever he possibly can to take the pressure off your shoulders

-so when exam season comes up and you start to get kind of distant because you’re so stressed, this mf is the most attentive, doting man ever

-“i’m just so stressed. my bio exam is in three days and my english lit exam is in 5 and i have to do so many chores and pick up this stupid cake for my mom—”

-“go to the library and study. give me the time and place to pick up the cake and i’ll use my key to get into your apartment. don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart.”

-he would respect your space when you needed it and when you wanted to study alone

-“i wanna see you matt but i really need to memorize this chapter tonight. i can’t, i’m sorry.”

-“it’s okay, baby. i understand, school comes first right now.”

-you love him so much for that cause he never makes you or lets you feel guilty for the lack of time together

-he definitely brings you your favorite snacks, water, and meals to the library when you stay late

-“i’m not staying, i know you need to focus. but i also know you haven’t eaten today and i can’t have that.”

-when you do want company, he is hands down the best study partner

-he will deadass read the chapters you have memorize just to make sure he can quiz you

-helps you make color coded flash cards

-“it means… fuck i can never fucking remember this one.” you’re chewing on your pen cap racking your brain for the definition of a chapter concept you know you know. you can feel the slight hysteria building as matt sits patiently, gentle eyes pleading with you to go easy on yourself. “i’m never gonna fucking pass.”

-matt puts down the flash cards, careful not to mess up the order. he comes around to the side of his bed that you’re on, squatting down between your open legs. he’s rubbing his thumb in circles on your thighs with one hand as he removes your head from your hands with his other. “you are the smartest and most capable person i know. you have been working your ass off for this. you need to give yourself some more credit, sweetheart. cause i have no doubt you can do it.” he swipes at the frustrated tears pooling in your eyes and gives you the most honey sweet smile you’ve ever seen.

-you tend to overwork yourself a lot so he insists on breaks every couple hours

-you almost always protest in favor of getting as much work done as possible but he always wins the argument

-“baby, i can’t take another break. i’m so behind. i haven’t even done half of what i wanted to!”

-“last break we took was four hours ago y/n. you’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t give yourself some time to relax.”

-he takes you to get food or even just a short drive listening to the playlist you guys made together, talking and laughing about anything other than school

-sometimes you sit in the living room w all the triplets and watch them argue about something hilarious

-he’s always right and it always works

-when you finally finish reviewing all the material you needed to, you flop down on his bed with a heavy sigh

-“i’m so fucking happy i finished on time.”

-“i knew you would. you’re gonna fucking ace it tomorrow.”

-“yeah i hope. i had the best study partner in the world.”

-you spend the night before your exams in his extremely soft bed and his extremely serene arms, him kissing away the nerves that threaten to choke you. every so often he’ll whisper sweet nothings of how good you’re gonna do, how proud of you he is and how smart you are, making your heart swell.

-the day of your exams you wake up to the sweetest note with a smoothie made (he didn’t go to bed until like 7am that morning anyway)

-“you’ve got this, baby! you’re gonna fucking kill it. take your time and trust yourself. i love you -m”

-you feel on top of the world knowing the most amazing man you’ve ever met believes in you so much

-after your exams are done, you wait until you’re back at his house to view your scores online

-“you ready?” matt says, looking at you with nothing but love and light.

-“no, but fuck it. lets get this over with.”

-you of course get the best scores imaginable

-you celebrate like you won the fucking lottery, jumping in his arms and shrieking in hysterical delight

-he is just as, maybe even more excited

-“that’s my fucking girl! i knew you could do it.”

-and he spends the entire night showing you just how proud of you he really is

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo edit #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic

[quietwingsinthesky]

what if. Amy “fix-it” because hallucifer makes sam so paranoid about dean leaving for no reason that sam gives in and follows him and is witness to the whole thing

#hallucifer: wow. big brother really trusts us. (beat) so something’s up right? we know it’s never this easy. #sam: (visibly restraining himself from saying shut up. about to grab his scar.) #hallucifer: (aware he’s about to be banished) don’t listen to me if you want but. I’m just trying to help. #don’t blame me if you look in the papers tomorrow and find a obit for your brain-eating girlfriend. and… what was her kid’s name again? #sam: (touching the scar. not pressing down. face all screwed up.) || hallucifer: :3 it’s not like it’ll hurt anyone #if he really does trust you he doesn’t even have to know we’re following him. *and* you’ll know your brother still trusts you. #even when I’m here. maybe he won’t even punch you again. that still hurting? #sam: (grimace. because yeah. it does.) || hallucifer: door number two - he thinks you’ve lost it and he’s going to stab that woman to death. #so what’s it gonna be Sam? ready to gamble your friend’s life on if Dean gives a shit about your opinion? #[and that’s the point where sam goes to follow dean. still doesn’t talk to Lucifer. not there yet. but oh hallucifer is sooo pleased with #himself about this. because he’s Sam. and he picks up on what Sam doesn’t. and he could see all of Dean’s little giveaways that Sam was #turning a blind eye to. and now here’s the perfect opportunity to put a wedge between them and get sam to trust him more <3) #GOD. FUCK. IM UPSET NOW. WHY WASNT HALLUCIFER IN THAT EPISODE. MOST OF THE EPISODES? #such a good fucking concept. squandered. #anyway. idk if sam saves Amy but he DEFINITELY here’s Dean’s little speech to her about how she can’t change. #hallucifer with faux sympathy like (sigh) damn. well. i always told you what he was like. Michael. Michael-sword. no difference. #both of them want us dead the moment we step out of line. #and Sam just frozen there in horror with Lucifer’s voice sinking in. and he believes him. how can he not. with dean proving him right #hallucifer #spn #sam winchester #amy pond

[the-breloominati]

#this has been bugging me for days now but it turns out my dad’s been listening to russ*a today #which I mean. it checks out cause of what he’s been saying #but it’s so fucking frustrating I swear to god #*searching google* how to explain to someone that their main source of info on ukra*ne shouldn’t be russ*an state propaganda #like fuck dude idk have you ever considered that maybe the country invading another country would want to #perpetuate a narrative that justifies the invasion #doesn’t fucking help that my dad seems to take almost every opportunity to be all ‘b*den bad put*n good’ #and what makes it worse is that my mom and I can’t say anything overly contradictory without risking starting something #(that something being getting yelled at about how we’re wrong and he’s right without being able to get a word in cause he won’t stfu) #I’m just tired dude #like one evening he was talking to my mom about politics and said something that suggested he might vote red #and I was like ‘you’re not going to be voting red in november are you’ and he was like ‘yes actually’ and so I made the mistake of engaging #and eventually we got on the topic of ukra*ne (because of course) and he’s blaming the invasion on fucking zelinsky #(idk how to spell his name exactly sorry >.>) #and like. how fucking deep do you have to be to come to that conclusion #so I tried to explain to him that putin’s literally the one who decided to invade in the first place (UNPROVOKED) #and he wouldn’t fucking listen #like I’m sorry to anyone who reads for burdening you with it or whatever but i’m just really fucking frustrated #god and don’t even get me fucking started on his shitty takes about gender and all the rest of the shit going on rn in the us #god man and in that discussion I mentioned earlier he brought of george fl*yd and ahmaud (?) arb*ry for some fucking reason #and still wants to vote red despite them being the same party that will blame those two (and several others) for their deaths #i’m frustrated and tired man

[begaycommittreason]

out of context things heard in wayne manor:

bruce: i understand, but pretending you cooked jerry the turkey is not a proportionate response to damian calling you a peasant again

————————

jason: look there’s a right way and a wrong way to make food. there’s also the bruce way, which is the wrong way except faster and worse

duke: *frantically scribbling notes*

————————

tim: do you think our relationship was kinda like incest now?

steph, horrified: never open your mouth in my presence again timothy

————————

dick: so then he’s like—guys. guys are you seriously signing about me in front of my face. i learned it too—hey i do NOT have a butt chin take that back—

————————

damian: i don’t understand, why does he wear such a ridiculous hat? is it like that margaret poppins woman grayson showed me?

tim, who watched the live action cat in the hat too much as a kid and is about to violently infodump: well you see-

dick: oh god it’s too late

jason: yeah the brats on his own for this one i’m not fucking dealing with that again

————————

bruce: are you lying?

tim: always. anyway, like i was saying—

————————

steph: hey what’s up with you and all the redheads

dick: …i’m not discussing this with you

steph, starting to chase him: gingervitus is a serious affliction! you cant run from this

dick, sprinting away: yes the fuck i can

————————

duke: so is anyone gonna talk about the elephant in the room…

dick:

dick: look i was feeling sentimental and zitka jr. really isn’t any trouble

damian: she is magnificent

————————

tim: so i dropped out and

duke: wait we can drop out of high school??!!?

bruce: NO.

duke: please bruce ap biology is beating my ass right now

jason: nah tim just got to drop cause bruce was dead and he’s a loser. the real problem is what you’re reading in ap lit right now, because i have thoughts on that curriculum—

duke: i’m not even gonna use half that material in the real world

tim: actually most of our villains have PhDs so their plans are based on pretty real science

duke: not helping timothy

————————

cass, signing: why are brothers on the ceiling?

jason: tims in timeout from working on his caseload

cass, still confused: yes but why taped to the ceiling

duke: listen if you know a better way of restraining his psycho ass then i’m all ears

cass: and damian?

jason: oh he saw this as free range target practice so he had to go up there too

cass: they are plotting revenge up there

duke: think of it as brotherly bonding

————————

damian: it’s not my fault he got in the way

bruce: you threw an eclair at lex luthor

damian: i was aiming for drake

tim: bruce we can’t take him anywhere

dick, holding back laughter: timmy you paid four separate people to come to the gala solely to ask lex if they could use his head to see if they had something in their teeth

tim: you have no proof that was me

————————

duke: look steph, it’s not that we don’t want to help with this

jason: i don’t want to help

duke: it’s more that i don’t think we can physically fit that many people in a shopping cart, and your whole plan kind of hinges on that

————————

alfred: i’m not mad, just disappointed in you.

every batkid, near tears: sorry alfred

————————

jason: HE HAD DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY AS THE FUCKING WHAT—

bruce: listen—

tim, mouth full and brain empty: the ambassador to iran. crazy right?

dick: tim please

#batfam #dc #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #damian wayne #batfamily #batman

[joonberriess]

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32

You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 

“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 

You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 

The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?

Really?

He’s calling bull.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”

“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?

“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”

“We had a driver—“

“Fuckin’ course—“

“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”

“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”

You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”

He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.

“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.

“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”

“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”

You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.

“What’s this?” 

Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.

“An IC card,” he simply answers.

It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.

“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”

“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”

“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”

“Forget it.”

“Really, Bak—“

“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.

You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—

“What do I do now?”

You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.

“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.

“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”

You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”

Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.

Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.

“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.

He scoffs.

“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”

“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”

Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 

An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.

Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.

The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.

“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.

“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”

Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 

A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”

Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“Jealous?”

“Hah? Why would I be—”

“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.

“Quiet, remember?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.

He’ll leave it to you to confess.

Then again, you already knew.

Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo drabble #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha drabbles #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha drabble #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou

[pucksandpower]

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

[bluebeary-jay]

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #young joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

[lovebugism]

OMG Stevie helping his shy!girlfriend with a bloody nose while at school just ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

steve promises a good time in exchange for skipping class with him. you end up with a bloody nose. (established relationship, hurt/comfort-ish, 0.8k)

“Missed you,” Steve slurs against your mouth, pressing your body between his towering one and the cold bathroom stall.

You manage a quiet giggle between his sloppy kisses. He swallows the sunshine sound with his plush, pink mouth. “It’s only been three hours,” you tell him as you twist your hands in his wild hair. The chestnut strands feel like silk between your fingers.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” the boy mumbles before pressing his smile to yours. He licks into your mouth and sighs at the taste, almost like he’s never felt you before — like he hadn’t kissed the breath from your lungs all lunch period.

He’s insatiable, your beautiful brown-eyed boy, and he kisses you with haste accordingly. He’s always seemed to touch you that way. With a hunger, like every time he’s held you is the very first time. And with an eagerness, like any time could be his last.

Steve gets all boyishly aggressive beneath the weight of his yearning. And you, warm and fondly held by his swollen mouth and wide palms, can’t help when your head gets all swimmy about it. It’s a horrid combination, really. 

‘Cause when he ducks down to kiss your neck, you rise to the tips of your toes to swallow him whole. Your faces bonk rather gracelessly together accordingly — like a couple of poorly aligned planets.

“Oh, shit!” Steve exclaims as he pulls back from you, rubbing at his aching forehead.

“I’m okay!” you blurt — not because you entirely mean it, but because you feel like it’s something you should say after being so carelessly clumsy.

The boy’s face twists with a puppylike pout. His jutted lips are rosier and very ardently kissed. His honey eyes flit rapidly across your features, glazed over with leftover longing. You look about as far-gone as he does now.

“Are you sure?” Steve presses. Because you’ve got a tendency to downplay the severity of certain situations for the sake of being a burden. It’s a whole thing. You’re still working on it. “I know that had to hurt, babe.”

“I’m fine,” you insist despite the distant throbbing between your eyes. Shaking your head with so much vigor doesn’t help. “I promise. I’m good… I think.”

Steve peers down at you, visibly unconvinced. His narrowed eyes widen when blood drips slowly from your right nostril, trickling like a river of crimson down your cupid’s bow.

Your brows furrow at his suddenly concerned gaze. “What?” you wonder as you reach for your mouth. His eyes are very obviously pointed there, and you’ve got a weird itch now, anyway.

“Nothing! It’s okay, just— Maybe don’t touch it,” Steve blurts before ducking at your side. He unravels cheap toilet paper from the dispenser beside your thigh and wraps it around his hand. He rises again to wipe the nosebleed, only to find that you’ve smeared it with your fingers.

Your eyes go glassy at the cherry-colored blood staining your fingertips. “Gosh…” you murmur as your heart swells into your throat. You blink slow, head all swimmy — and not in the good way.

“It’s okay. You’re alright, babe,” Steve insists as he smooths a softly calloused palm beneath your jaw. He guides your chin softly upward and presses the tissue to your nose. “Here. Just tilt your head back. Hold this ’til the bleeding stops, yeah?”

At a loss for what else to do, you listen to him. You press the crown of your head against the stall wall and wrap a trembling hand around the boy’s wrist. You can feel his racing pulse beneath your thumb.

“This is the last time I’m skipping study hall with you,” you announce with an icy glare that’s hardly intimidating. “Ever.”

Steve’s lip quirks into a sheepish half-smile. “I figured,” he replies.

When the bleeding doesn’t stop, he takes you to the nurse’s. 

He sits with you in the concrete room, beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights and the overwhelming scent of bleach. His hands tremble with the longing to touch you while the nurse checks you over. She shoves a cotton ball up your nostril and a bulky icepack in your hand.

Steve would help you hold it if he didn’t think it would be the worst idea ever. He’s already gotten you into this mess — he figures it’s best to keep himself out of the rest of it for now. He idles in the corner, instead, and plays the innocent bystander.

“How did this happen, exactly?” the woman asks as she scribbles out a report. The pen against the clipboard sounds much louder in the quiet.

You glance over her shoulder at Steve for an answer. He shrugs with panicked eyes. The nurse peers at you over the frames of her cat-eyed glasses with a most impatient glare.

“I, uh— I just wasn’t paying attention,” you stammer less than convincingly. “Slammed right into a wall. Guess I should watch where I’m going, right?”

You force out a giggle while the older woman flashes Steve a deadpanned glare. “And I don’t imagine that you were the source of this distraction. Were you, Mr. Harrington?” she montones.

“Me?” he scoffs with a lopsided smile. “Of course not.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[sserasin]

fwb!heeseung

cw nsfw under cut, female reader, infidelity, jealousy, almost choking, public sex, exhibitionism, possessive!heeseung, maybe a little toxic!heeseung too, anal (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), taking pics/videos during sex (and then sending them to bf), boyfriend ends up unintentionally cucking, squirting, this is more like headcanons cause i’m lazy sorry

nsfw link

this is the type of shit heeseung would send to your boyfriend 😵‍💫

fwb!heeseung who starts off as a friend at a party. you don’t even really remember what led up to you being naked in his bed the next morning, but you do remember every moment of him railing you in his bed. so when he offers to continue fucking, like a fwb, you accept.

fwb!heeseung who finds himself falling in love with you as your relationship progresses, sneaking kisses when you’re not even having sex, just because he can kiss you.

fwb!heeseung who is so surprised that you suddenly have a boyfriend, who is so blindsided and hurt that he fucks you on the floor, not really caring if you got bruises in the midst.

fwb!heeseung that refuses to stop seeing you even when you end up getting a boyfriend. he pretends he’s listening when you tell him why you can’t fuck anymore, and then he’s right back to being all up in your personal space, leaving kisses scattered across your body.

fwb!heeseung doesn’t know when to stop, and he’s a very persuasive guy. it doesn’t take much for him to convince you that you two could ‘still lowkey fuck’.

fwb!heeseung who knows no boundaries, still acting the very same in front of your boyfriend. he’ll grip you by the waist, hug for a second too long, say flirty comments to you right in front of said boyfriend. your boyfriend isn’t stupid, he knows heeseung likes you, but he trusts you too much to think it’s going any further than heeseung’s ‘failed’ advances. at this point, you don’t know how your boyfriend hasn’t caught on yet.

fwb!heeseung who takes every chance he gets to fuck you, pulling you into the backseat of his car as the parking lot is completely stranded save for a few other cars. he’s too big to have car sex, but he also really doesn’t care. he doesn’t really care to keep you quiet, more so does it just to placate you, and is always egging you on to be louder. “come on, tell me who’s fucking you this good,” he chuckles breathlessly, rutting up into you as you bounce on his cock, whimpering his name and little begs for him to help. “fuck, let everyone else know.”

fwb!heeseung who takes you at every party, leaving your boyfriend downstairs alone for however long heeseung wants. he’s not letting you go until he’s done with you, that is for certain. he bends you over the bathroom sink, hand gripping your hair and forcing your back against his front, “so you can see who’s ruining you. not him, not anyone else,” you whimper as his cock hits at a specific angle, slamming against that soft spot that heeseung knows like the back of his hand by now, “me.”

fwb!heeseung who is always trying to find something on your boyfriend for you to break up with him, even coming up with the silliest accusations. “he shit himself in the eighth grade at an assembly.” “i heard he’s actually part donkey.” because really, your boyfriend is an angel, and it frustrates him that he’s seemingly perfect.

fwb!heeseung who convinces you for a quickie in between classes, in a quiet, lone hall. his hand is shoved against your mouth and nose, almost totally constricting your airway. your breaths are short, almost like a gasp for air as his hips slam into yours with his other free hand circling your clit, “you gotta be quiet, remember?” he croons, his breath heavy in your ear. “don’t want baby to find us,” he snickers, using the nickname you used for your boyfriend earlier. you blink, saying through his hand despite the spots in your vision, “who?” he grins at your response, pace quickening to reach your orgasms.

fwb!heeseung who takes advantage of the fact that your boyfriend is always at basketball practice, thankful that he’s always so busy, he doesn’t have time to take care of you. but heeseung? he does, and even if he didn’t, he’d skip it just to be with you. he always uses this against you, too. “he’s not even here to take care of you,” he hums, head between your thighs, placing small kisses on them. “what would you do if i weren’t here, hm?” before you can even answer, his mouth is already sucking on your clit.

fwb!heeseung who sends nudes to you when he knows you’re out with your boyfriend. you both know he hopes your boyfriend sees them so you can finally, completely be his. he first sends a picture of his clothed crotch, hand gripping his hardened cock, sending a ‘wyd?’ when he knows damn well what you’re doing. when you don’t respond, he sends another picture with his sweats off, his cock threatening to slip out of the waistband of his boxers. when that doesn’t get a response, he texts, ‘wish u were here :( wouldn’t have to take care of this by myself’ and another video of him palming his cock, slipping it out of his boxers and slowly starting to jerk off. he always makes sure to leave the audio on, just for you.

fwb!heeseung who always overstays his welcome at your apartment, staying for so long he either narrowly misses your boyfriend arriving or he’s still there, stuck in your closet or under your bed or wherever else he’s decided to hide this time, as your boyfriend is none the wiser. you somehow manage to sneak him out, always sending a long text that you two should finally stop. but he refuses, always convincing you with a press of his lips on yours. the thrill and his love for you is too exhilarating for him to stop.

fwb!heeseung who takes videos and pictures of you; pictures with his dick in your mouth with your eyes teary, looking up at him. pictures with him fully inside you, a bulge from his cock protruding from your lower abdomen. pictures with his cum leaking out of your hole, others with his cum on your face, your stomach, your ass, wherever. there’s pictures of him, too, head buried between your thighs. “what would your boyfriend think if i sent all of our little memories to h—him? show him the you that sluts it out for dick, so desperate for it that you fuck other men instead of your boyfriend.”

fwb!heeseung who gets tired of the back and forth shit, who decides that you must love him, too, if you allow him to fuck you without a condom, if you allow him to fuck your ass, if you allow him to cum inside you. if you’ve stuck with him this long, you have to.

fwb!heeseung who sends a video to your boyfriend while he’s at practice, no words, just the video of him fucking your ass with the audio still on with you moaning his name.

fwb!heeseung who decides just showing your boyfriend pictures and videos of you on his cock isn’t enough, still fucking you through your orgasm just as your boyfriend comes through your door. heeseung pulls you up by your neck, back against his front like so many times in a stranger’s bathroom. he squeezes, capturing your attention, “we have a visitor.” when you gasp in horror and try to get away from him, his hand tightens around your neck, making your body contort in pleasure as your airway is blocked, different colored spots appearing in your vision. your back arches against him, head thrown on his shoulder as he continues hammering into your ass. “go on, tell your boyfriend how you were never really his— you were always mine, weren’t you, baby?” he laughs, “we were literally still fucking when you got together, and we never stopped.” and your boyfriend stupidly stands there, watching in a mixture of hurt but arousal. heeseung can’t help but cruelly make fun of him, releasing his hold on your neck to force you to look at your boyfriend, “look, your boyfriend enjoys seeing you get fucked by another man, probably ‘cause he k—knows he’ll never get you like this. not like i can. tell him i’m better than him. tell him he will never know your body like i do.” you’re already shaking your head, grinding your ass back against him when he slows down. “tell him you love me.”

fwb!heeseung who is so pleased and happy when you finally scream out through your sobs that “i-i love hee—heeseung! i love you, heeseung.” and he finally lets you come, helping you out with a hand on your clit and his other hand constricting your airway. but none of you expect the gush of clear liquid wetting your lower bodies and your bed. neither of you notice when your boyfriend finally gathers himself and leaves the room to take care of his own little problem— heeseung too preoccupied with slowly pulling out of you and taking care of you, like he always does, and you too preoccupied with heeseung and coming down from your intense orgasm.

fwb!heeseung who is no longer fwb!heeseung and is now bf!heeseung, but is every bit of the menace he was before. definitely still takes you in a quiet hall, in the bathroom of a stranger’s party, in the back of his car, in your bed, in his bed. still the same heeseung, just now your boyfriend, heeseung.

#heeseung.txt #enha.txt #writing.txt #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #heeseung #lee heeseung #kpop smut

[swampthingking]

can’t study for my test because i’m having brain rot about neil accidentally getting super drunk and stumbling up to aaron like “andrew???” and aaron is like “wrong one” and neil is like “andrew.” and aaron is like “???? are you stupid” and neil goes to look for andrew but he stumbles into the table, and aaron has to catch him or he will get trampled for fucks sake, and neil just collapses into him in a drunk cuddly heap. and aaron is like “neil. you need to stand up” and neil is like “i am” and aaron is like “that’s because i’m holding you up” and they get neil to stand but neil kinda just flops into aaron’s arms again. and neil is like “i don’t hate you, i don’t, but it’s okay if you hate me” and aaron is like “ugh, ew are you really an emotional drunk???” and neil, to aaron’s horror, looks at him with tears in his eyes because you know when you’re too drunk and you kind of just get a little scared and you need help???? ya. and aaron is like … ok. and kinda holds neil until andrew comes back from the bar with more drinks. and he sees neil basically asleep on aaron’s shoulder, and aaron looking uncomfortable but accepting, so he kinda raises an eyebrow, an okay? and aaron nods and is just patting neil on his back

and tomorrow they’ll wake up and neil will toddle downstairs with his hand against his temple and aaron will have advil ready for him, and he’ll say “you’re annoying and you don’t know when to shut your mouth or mind your own business, but i don’t hate you” and the thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for staying goes unsaid but yeah

and that’s how aaron and neil became kind of friends

edit: vomited out a one shot for y’all (this will prob become a 5+1)

Aaron swirled his drink a few times, listening to the ice clacking against the glass.

Eden’s was packed tonight, courtesy of it being the end of the school year. College students and the regular patrons flocked to the bar, the dance floor, and all of the tables, leaving Aaron to reserve a high-top table, and his legs to dangle from the stool.

“Drew?”

Aaron ignored him in favor of the twinkling sound the ice makes in his glass. He’d already taken shots, danced, had another drink, danced again, and now Aaron’s body was heavy with alcohol and exhaustion.

“Drew,” Neil said again.

Aaron looked around their table and didn’t see Andrew. He remembered Andrew getting up and walking to the bar with their empty tray. Aaron found him a few seconds later, hands in his pockets at the bar. That and Neil, staring up at him, looking uneasy.

Before Aaron could tell Neil to get out of his face, Neil was speaking.

“Are you’nt having fun?” Neil frowned, blinking sleepy, hooded eyes at him. He leaned closer to study Aaron’s face.

“What are you doing?” Aaron grumbled, pushing Neil’s face away.

Aaron hadn’t even pushed him hard, he more removed Neil from his space rather than pushed him, but Neil wobbled like his world had tilted out of orbit. Aaron realized, quickly, that Neil was going to fall backwards. He grabbed two fistfuls of Neil’s shirt and pulled him forwards. Neil’s head lulled on his shoulders with the force, his chin hitting his chest then righting itself.

Aaron’s stomach lurched, sick with the thought that someone had put something in one of Neil’s drinks, as he would for anyone, but thankfully he’s never been put in that situation. Neil’s eyes were hooded, his face flushed. Aaron snapped once at Neil’s ear, and Neil recoiled immediately.

“Does your head hurt or anything?” Aaron asked. Neil shook his head, frowning.

“Are you dizzy? Follow my finger.” Aaron pushes Neil back so he can see his face, keeping one hand on Neil’s shoulder to hold him up. Neil follows Aaron’s finger as it moves back and forth, albeit a little labored, but not as if he’d been roofied. Aaron declares that Neil’s reaction times and responses are fine, but he still pulls the front of his shirt up and checks his belt, the button of his pants.

“What—?” Neil slapped a hand on his abdomen, stopping his shirt from being lifted any higher. Aaron didn’t need to see anything but his pants, but it was reassuring that Neil still had inhibitions.

His clothes were fine. His belt was still done, zipper up. No one had tried anything. Aaron relaxed.

“Sorry,” Aaron said. “Sorry, I just needed to…”

While racking his mind back to why Neil is this drunk, Aaron remembered Neil taking shots with Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin. Four shots. He’d seen Neil sip on another drink like the idiot had the tolerance for alcohol that the rest of them had.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Aaron said and released Neil. Neil attempted to step back, his hands raised in surrender.

“No?” Neil asked warily. Even drunk as fuck, he still respected boundaries. Andrew’s boundaries specifically, as it still hadn’t registered that he wasn’t talking to the right twin.

“I’m not Andrew,” Aaron said.

“Where’s Andrew?” Neil asked, turning his head pathetically in search. Aaron only had a good view of Andrew because they were seated at a high-top. Over the throng of taller people coupled with strobing lights, Neil’s view was obstructed.

“At the bar,” Aaron nodded in that direction.

Neil turned towards the bar. Well, he attempted to. He pivoted, lost his balance, and toppled into the table. He tried to right himself and started to fall to the other side. Aaron caught Neil before he could bust his shit and get trampled.

“Jesus Christ, Josten,” Aaron spat, righting Neil with hands on his biceps. Neil slapped a hand on the table and leaned his weight on it. The table quaked under such abuse, but held.

Neil turned slowly, grappling against the table as if he was standing in one of those spinning fair rides. In his excursion to simply spin 180°, his hand slipped off the edge of the table as he faced Aaron once again. He reached for the table, missed, reached for it again, missed, said, “Motherfucker,” under his breath, and finally gripped onto the edge. His eyes locked on Aaron’s again, and Neil’s useless hand landed on Aaron’s shoulder.

“Andrew,” Neil said. Aaron didn’t know if it was more a request or if it was just not registering.

“Wrong,” Aaron said, tense under Neil’s hand, but he didn’t push him off. He’d rather hold Neil up than peel him off the floor. “Aaron.”

“‘m very drunk,” Neil said, looking up pleadingly at Aaron as if he had a magical cure to shitfacedness, and all Neil had to do for it was look a little scared. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Aaron asked.

“I’m drunk.”

Aaron snorted. “That’s kind of the point when you’re at a bar.”

“But,” Neil said, taking a labored breath, “I’m…too drunk.”

This was beginning to feel exceedingly similar to speaking to a child. Aaron was annoyed, but not completely heartless, unlike the narrative of Aaron Neil had likely concocted. “It’s okay, Neil,” Aaron said. “You should sit down.”

Neil promptly sat as if there was a chair under him, but there was not. Aaron, still holding Neil vertical, got pulled out of his chair with the momentum. To avoid toppling to the ground—which did not get mopped as often as it should—Aaron planted his feet on the floor and hauled Neil up by his armpits.

“Help,” Neil murmured. His arms dropped to his sides as he yielded his dead weight to Aaron.

“Stand up,” Aaron grunted, readjusting to wrap an arm around Neil’s back. One of Neil’s arms flopped over Aaron’s shoulder.

“I am,” Neil complained.

“No, you are not.”

“I am.”

“Neil,” Aaron said through clenched teeth, “I am holding you up. You need to lock your knees.”

“Oh,” Neil said. He looked at his feet as if he needed to check they were on the ground.

To be fair, Neil did lock his knees, but he also leaned all of his upper body on Aaron, arms still hanging limply at his sides. He tucked his head into Aaron’s neck with, what seemed, every intention to make a home there for the night.

“Neil,” Aaron said, frozen against the hair tickling his cheek. “God dammit.”

“And…ron,” Neil spoke against his shoulder.

“Yes,” Aaron said sarcastically. “That’s me.”

“Can I j’stay here?” Neil slurred.

From what Aaron had seen of Neil’s dynamic with his brother, he knew Neil would get off if he said no. He could place Neil into a stool or pull up a chair with a back so he wouldn’t fall out and concuss himself. He could shove Neil off and make him fend for himself. He could pawn him off to Andrew.

At the moment, those other options seemed like far too much work.

That, or maybe it was the med student in him, the intrinsic urge to heal and help and nurture that smarted at the thought of pushing Neil off.

Aaron didn’t push him off when Neil readjusted and tucked an arm into his chest, the other gripping Aaron for stability. He didn’t when Neil asked again, a quiet, “Aaron.”

“Okay,” Aaron conceded. He rubbed a hand up and down Neil’s back placatingly, but also because Neil seemed like he needed it. And he came to Aaron for it. Well, he came to Andrew and got Aaron. But he didn’t push Aaron off, and Aaron hasn’t done the same.

And they just…stood like that. For what seemed like a long time, but it probably was only a few minutes before Neil spoke again.

“Aaron,” Neil said.

Aaron hummed in response.

“I don’ hate you.”

“What?” Aaron asked. “What the fuck are you talking about, Neil?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“What?” Aaron said again.

“I don’wanna fight.” Neil lets out a colossal breath.

“We haven’t fought in a long time,” Aaron says, his idea of agreement. Acceptance.

Neil was quiet, because it was true. Neil seemed content to lay in Aaron’s arms, and Aaron didn’t have another stool next to him. He sure as shit wasn’t giving his up for Neil, but Neil was genuinely so unsteady on his feet that Aaron couldn’t let him go.

He trembled a bit, and Aaron was almost amused that after everything Neil had been through, being a little too drunk is what finally did it for him.

But Aaron had felt that way before. Inebriated and scared in a crowded room of strangers. Neil, however, has people he knows. How can Aaron be upset at Neil for wanting the comfort that he also craved? How can he be upset that Neil feels safe enough with Andrew to ask for help? That his brother finally feels safe with someone too?

“Aaron,” Neil said.

“What,” Aaron said.

“It’s okay if you hate me.”

“Oh God,” Aaron groaned, “Ew. Are you really an emotional drunk?”

Neil pulled back and, to Aaron’s horror, there were actual tears in his eyes. His lip trembled as he bit it, holding the tears in. Aaron hated how much of himself he was seeing in Neil tonight. The harrowing fact that maybe they are quite similar.

“Oh God,” Aaron said again, mortified. He grabbed the back of Neil’s head and shoved it back into his shoulder, effectively hiding Neil’s teary face.

He cast a desperate look to Andrew, who was finally on his way back to the table. He patted Neil on the shoulder, like one would burp a baby when they have no idea how to do so.

“Andrew.”

Andrew didn’t need prompting to look. His eyes were trained on Neil and Aaron from the moment he turned around. By the nonchalance of his movements and his lack of alarm, Aaron guessed he had been watching their interaction.

Andrew set the tray down on the table and cast a significant look between them, settling on Neil’s intoxicated form keeled over on Aaron’s shoulder.

Andrew raises one eyebrow, a silent question, an okay?

Aaron finds himself nodding, and unsure why. All he knows right now, a few drinks in, is that he doesn’t hate this. And he doesn’t hate that Neil doesn’t hate him.

-

The smell of coffee set Neil’s feet moving like a Pavlovian response. He was half awake already with a pounding headache, like his eyeballs were beating his closed lids to death.

Neil toddles down the stairs with his eyes closed, a hand pressed hard to his temple, stabilizing his brain.

Aaron was standing at the counter already, facing the sputtering coffee pot. His arms were crossed, hair ruffled from sleep. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned.

The memories from last night played past Neil’s mind like a sped-up movie. He grimaced in embarrassment, and felt a little sick at how drunk he was. How stupid he was, to drink that much. He should have known his tolerance isn’t matched with the rest of them. He could have gotten hurt, could have said something—

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Neil said, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Aaron said. He turned back to the coffee, though his posture was rigid.

Neil grabbed a glass of water. He noticed Aaron watching from the corner of his eye, but Neil chose to ignore him, figuring that’s best. He sat on the counter with his water, sipping it slowly while he and Aaron waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

The silence was thick, but they were both too stubborn to leave the kitchen. Usually, they preferred to wait and pretend the other wasn’t there.

That’s what Neil thought, at least. After a painful few minutes, Aaron huffed and grabbed the bottle of Advil from the drawer next to the sink. He shook two pills out and sat them next to Neil.

Neil stared at them until Aaron cast a pointed look at the pills, then physically gestured to them with raised brows. Neil took them while Aaron watched.

The coffee pot beeped. Aaron made a split second decision, grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee into them. He slid Neil’s across the counter. It sloshed over the side, but Aaron wasn’t capable of caring at the moment. His mind was busy, and he knew Neil had noticed his lack of eye contact; the analytical fuck.

“Look,” Aaron said. He did not look at Neil to say it. “You’re annoying, and you never know when to shut your mouth or mind your business. Most of the time, I’m convinced you have a death wish, and a lot of the time I find myself resenting you. You complicated our lives, put us all in danger, didn’t give a shit.”

Neil’s chest hurt. He didn’t know if it was anger or guilt. Aaron started talking again before he could figure it out.

“But I don’t hate you. I can’t, really. I can’t even fault you for the shitty things you did, because it all worked out.” Aaron glanced quickly at Neil, looked away. His cheeks were red.

The thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for being good to Andrew went unsaid, but Aaron hoped Neil wasn’t obtuse enough to force him to say it out loud.

Neil must have understood, because he nodded. Aaron figured that was as close to a reconciliation they were going to have, so he leaned against the counter and pretended everything was normal.

For the first time, they drank their coffee in silence without animosity orchestrating it.

Neil’s mug was half empty when Andrew joined them. He paused in the doorway, squinty eyed and mussed, looking between the two. Neil on the counter, Aaron leaning against it. Their silence, but lack of tension.

“This is weird,” Andrew finally said, his voice gravely from sleep.

“Yeah,” Neil and Aaron said simultaneously.

Neil glanced over his mug at Aaron, the corner of his mouth twitching. Aaron regarded it, but looked away, because something like contentment had made its way onto Andrew’s face.

Aaron smiled at that instead.

#andrew’s watching from the bar like ‘what in the fuck.’ #neil isn’t allowed to drink vodka anymore #andrew got tired of him crying #(not actually) #(his heart just *does something* when he sees neil in tears #(he does not like it) #he gets anxious and sad if he drinks too much #and he’s such a lightweight and doesn’t know his limits #so it happens a couple times before andrew is like ‘nope’ #and monitors neil until they find a fun fuzzy drunk #not a sad scary one #neil doesn’t even drink that often but after 4 years in college he obviously does more than a few times #aftg #tfc #the foxhole court #aftg brainrot #neil josten #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #all for the game #trk #tkm #andreil

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man?

a/n: This is technically part two for this list. You could read them separately but I really think you should read them both so you can fully feel the angst.

non-mcu characters masterlist

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries this is one is for you girl

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Now let’s say that when Simon got back, things were….different. You rarely fought but now you’re bickering about every little thing and having full on battles of the will that leave you crying in the bedroom while he’s storming out. The connection between you two feels strained and distant where’s before it was warm and comforting. You barely look at each other and sometimes you think he’s straight up ignoring you.

Even the dogs have started to notice that there’s something off about mom and dad. Most nights you’ll sleep alone with the dogs by your door while Simon is on the couch. It feels like they’re laying in wait, ready to spring into action if anything were to happen. They don’t go to him as much as they did before and your female dog, Echo, refuses to leave your side. She’s become glued to you while your other dog, Zade, keeps you within eyesight at all times. It really pisses Simon off because Zade is supposed to be his dog and the mutt won’t even look at him (Simon’s words, not yours).

It all comes to a head though one night when Simon is trying to get Zade to come with him on a walk and the dog just stares at him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He just stares into Simon’s soul and judges him for how he’s been treating you.

“Zade! Come here now!” Simon grumbles in a half shout but the dog doesn’t move a muscle. You’re in the bedroom with Echo at your feet and she glances over at you with a look that says ‘let’s go’.

What happened next is a blur. Echo barely makes it into the living room before she’s growling and placing herself between you and Simon. Zade is up and stalking closer to his sister’s side while Simon is growing more and more angry. You don’t think you even had the time to say anything before Echo and Zade tackle Simon to the ground. You know they wouldn’t hurt him but it’s still a terrifying sight and you’re doing everything you can to get the dogs off of him. You manage to get them off but they refuse to go to their kennels and keep tucked behind you, still ready to protect you if needed.

“Simon, oh my god are you okay?” You ask him in a panicked and high pitched voice as you try to help him up. He shoves your hands off of him and accidentally uses too much force which sends you to stumbling into the dogs.

Everything is absolute chaos with his anger, the dogs trying to protect you, and now you’re crying while trying not to tell him off. At this point you grab the dogs by their collars and pull them away as tears are streaming down your face. When they hear your sniffles, they immediately give into you and let you pull them to the bedroom. You don’t hear Simon as you start to pack as much as you can. The weeks of being on edge have finally gotten to you and you’re done.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who isn’t willing to communicate with you.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who used to be the most loving and devoted man you’ve ever met but now he can’t acknowledge your presence.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s come so far and has forgiven himself for the things he’s done but now he’s slipping back into his old self destructive ways.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who can’t be honest with himself and admit that he’s wrong.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s become Ghost.

You’ve tried having faith in him after he broke up with you but it’s rotting you from the inside out. It’s eating away at your heart, gnawing at your ribs with your flesh stuck in its teeth. This faith is liquifying the kindness and patience you once had. It’s changing you into an anxious shell of a coward who can’t stand up for yourself. Change is alright but this is not. This change is making you cruel and hopeless while it waits for you to become a faithless savage who devours whatever light touches you.

It’s only when you come back into the living room with your bags packed and the dogs ready to go that Simon says something to you.

He questions what you’re doing.

He doesn’t apologize.

“I’m leaving. We’ll figure out everything tomorrow,” you tell him as you find your keys.

“What do you mean?”

You stop. You stare at the front door with completely blank eyes. They flicker to him over your shoulder.

“I’m leaving you. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out how to make it a clean break then.”

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you after that.

He lets you walk out the door. You don’t ask him to fight for you either.

He lets you leave him. You don’t turn back either.

You meant to drive to your friend’s place but somewhere on the way there you pull over and cry until you feel like you’re going to pass out. Zade and Echo watch from the backseat of your car with their heads on your center console. They want to comfort you but there’s not exactly room for two 100 pound dogs in the front seat so they stay put. Your friend calls you frantically because she’s not home but tells you that you should come meet her wherever she’s at. As nice as it might be to get away, it’s not appealing to you at the moment so you call the only other person you know you’d be comfortable with right now.

A part of you knows it’s a mistake to call him and if Simon finds out, he might very well almost kill his captain a third time. The other part of you knows that John would be understanding and the calm presence that you want right now. He already checks on you regularly so would it be a huge surprise if you showed up on his doorstep?

As if he’s been waiting for this moment, John already has a guest room for you and has the back door open for the dogs to run around outside. They’ve met him before so they feel more secure with leaving your side although they both give him a warning look.

Now it’s important to remember that the entire time you’ve known John, you’ve been with Simon. John thinks himself a gentleman, albeit a bit gruff, but a gentleman no less so you’ve been off limits. Obviously he can’t ignore the initial attraction he felt towards you because you are an utterly breathtaking person and it would be impossible to not notice that. He’s tried to lock away the yearning that tugs at the marrow in his bones when he sees you but it’s difficult. It’s like asking a dog to stop begging; they might listen for a moment but they go back to it within seconds. Also during the course of your friendship, he’s come to know the absolute amazing person that you are and seen that you have the kindness soul he’s ever known. It didn’t used to hurt when he saw you but after that night you texted him to keep Simon safe after he broke up with you, it’s damn near unbearable. Simon told you to find yourself a better man and John knows he could be that man. He wants to be that man but only if you come to him. He won’t approach you or even hint at it with you. It needs to be you who seeks him out. It needs to be you who wants him. It needs to be you who asks him to be that man otherwise John would never be able to forgive himself if it all went wrong.

Nothing happens that night or at all for that matter during your stay with John. It was meant to only be a few days but with losing your house so suddenly and trying to navigate a world Post Simon, it ends up being a few weeks. You feel awful about it and promise that you’ll be gone as soon as you can. John always laughs it off and tells you to stay as long as you need. Secretly he’s growing accustomed to your calming presence and gentle ways. He adores how thoughtful you are when you have to work early and barely make a sound. He appreciates how you make him a plate and leave it in the fridge if he comes home late. He’s thankful that you’re comfortable enough with him to tell him about everything that’s going on.

John made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t bring up anything unless you said something first. Even when he wants desperately to know why you’re crying when you came back from Simon’s tonight, he won’t. Instead he offers you a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and some space while he busies himself in his shop outside. It absolutely destroys him to even think about leaving you alone in the living room but it’s the right thing to do.

Just as he’s getting ready to leave, your small voice stops him.

“Can…can you stay?” It’s unusual for you to not be confident in your words. It causes him to freeze to hear the uncertainty. “If..if you want.”

He smiles at the ground before turning to look at you and nod. You’re curled into a ball on the couch with your dogs at your feet but there’s space for him next to you. You lean away from the arm of the couch and he takes the hint. Settling into the space between you and couch, he tosses his arm over the back and lets you decide how to proceed. Against your logical head, you tuck yourself into his side with yours pulled around yourself and your head on his shoulder. His fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair but they stay tightly closed around the couch cushion.

“Thank you…for everything.”

“No need for that.” He murmurs with bated breath. He knows you can feel the tension, how could you not when you’re practically laying on his chest?

“One day you’re going to accept my thanks. It might not be tomorrow or the day after, but you will,” you say with a snort. He says that every single time and you reply with the same phrase every time as well.

John’s hand betrays him and starts to play with the very ends of your hair. You feel it just like you felt his strained breathing. It’s strange to feel affection from anyone else but from him, it’s…. welcomed. You don’t acknowledge it and he knows that you’re doing that for his own sake.

“Maybe,” he tosses back and his breath catches when you move closer to him. Your arm moves to wrap around his waist and stills when he tenses. It’s your silent way of asking for consent to hold him. “Love,” he starts and moves his hand away from your hair.

You move to look at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and warmth it makes your stomach flip.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You ask him directly, unwilling to be tossed around again. It’s abrasive and you know there’s a better way to have asked but it gets straight to the point.

John looks sick and a tight lipped smile pulls across his face as he tries to come up with an answer. “I…love I think you need to rest. There’s been a…”

“No. Answer the question.”

He glances down at your lips and that’s telling enough.

“Now isn’t the right time,” he whispers more to himself than to you. “You’ve just gone through…”

Cutting him off, you say firmly, “and that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

He can only stare at you with half lidded eyes and pray that he doesn’t break in front of you. His resolve is crumbling and it’s only thanks to his military service that he’s not throwing himself at you.

“I told him it’s over.”

John tries to interrupt you but you silence him with a pointed look. “I told him that I will always love him but that doesn’t mean I want to be with him anymore. I won’t wait around for him to figure his life out. I don’t deserve that. I deserve a man who knows what he wants and will communicate with me.”

Honestly it feels like his world is crumbling around him. You’re here snuggled into his chest and saying all these things which he knows what they mean but he can’t believe that you know what they mean. He can’t trust his own understanding of you and believe that you’d mean that.

“I need you to tell me what you want…now.”

You.

He wants you. More than anything in the world, John Price wants you and you’re asking him to confess that secret.

#simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod x reader #call of duty imagine #ghost call of duty #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #John price imagine #captain price x reader #price x reader #price #captain price #cod price

[intoxicated-chan]

Okay, so this is more on the soft angst side, but would you be willing to write a Miguel x F!Reader (or gender neutral if you’d prefer that) where Miguel visits Reader’s universe to check in on them since they haven’t visited the Spider Society headquarters for some time now, and he shows up at her apartment right as she’s in the middle of fixing up her wounds after a massive fight. And so he helps patch up her wounds, and after some intense eye contact between the two of them, they kiss (it should be noted that they’ve been pining over each other awhile now, but neither of them have said anything to the other).

And if it isn’t too much, I have these dialogue prompts you can add as well if you need anymore inspiration (you totally don’t have to use them, I just thought they’d fit perfectly with this scenario).

“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know. I can clean up my own messes.”

“Can I stay? I'll take the couch.”

If this feels like too much, don’t hesitate to decline this ask! I’m just really excited 😅

I Need You to Stay

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel hasn’t heard from you in weeks, he wonders what’s keeping you so busy.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Stay” by Ari Abdul. Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you enjoy it and are taking care of yourself. Have a wonderful day/night!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 887

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, mention of violence, mentions of death, light angst, fluffy, blood, open wounds, light swearing…

Four weeks. It has been four weeks since Miguel last saw you. Normally, he wouldn’t be so worried, but it’s been four days. Usually, if you couldn’t make it, you’d talk to him through a screen but that hasn’t happened in the four weeks. Not a call, not a text, not even a simple message. Heck, even Lyla hasn’t heard anything from you.

Miguel sighs, “I can believe I’m saying this right now…” He looks at Peter B. “I’m putting you in charge until I get back.”

“Where are you going?” Peter B. asks.

“I haven’t heard anything from (Y/n) and Lyla can’t reach her. I’ll be back soon.”

Gwen pops up from behind Peter B.,“Can I join you?” She asks, pulling her hood up as she walks closer to Miguel, “I want to see the person who has Miguel O’Hara crushing on.”

“Excuse me?” Miguel cocks an eyebrow.

“You heard me!”

“No.” Walking away from Gwen.

“Why not?” And Gwen quickly follows.

“Because she could be in danger.” Miguel begins adjusting his gizmo to the correct universe.

“You saw me in action, I could help.” Gwen retorts.

“And I said…” A portal opens up, “No.” Then he disappeared and Gwen scoffed.

“I told you he wouldn’t listen.” Peter B. laughs with Mayday in his arms and Miles right beside him, laughing along.

Miguel lands on the rooftop of your apartment with a grunt. He takes a moment to look around and see if anything has changed, and something did. It was midnight in your universe and the lights to your apartment were still on.

He jumps down and easily clings onto the wall next to your window. With his other hand, he slowly slides your window open and slips in, closing it behind him.

“I know you’re here Miguel!” You call out from the other room, “Heard you since you landed on the roof.”

He chuckles as he walks towards the sound of your voice, “I shouldn’t be so surprised, your abilities have always impressed-” His eyes widen as he looks at you.

You sat at the table, bloody bandages on the table, cotton balls and fresh bandages. But the blood still dripping from the open wounds on your arm made his stomach churn, not in a good way.

He swallows thickly as he comes closer, taking your injured arm in his hand, “Who did this to you?” He growls.

“I took care of it.” You tell him, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying, “Nothing left but cuts and bruises… That will heal.” You try to sooth his worry.

“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

“You’re holding the only thing that’s hurting right now.”

Miguel uses his webbing to pull up another chair to sit. He grabs the disinfectant and pours some of his on a cotton ball, you hiss at the contact as he cleans up the blood.

“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me, you know. I can clean up my own messes.” You speak through gritted teeth as it still burns.

“...How strong were they?” He speaks through the awkwardness.

“It wasn’t because they were strong.” You admit, “I got carried away, distracted.”

“By what?”

“The bastard was wearing colors similar to yours. I thought it was you for a split second, and in the second, I was open for an attack and they took it… I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Grabbing the bandages and wrapping up your arm.

“Don’t you remember the first time you brought me on a mission with you. I got distracted.”

“Of course I remember, what kind of idiot throws themself in front of someone.” He looks over the bandages, making sure they’re on correctly and not too tight.

“I thought you were going to die that day, I thought if I could at least save Spider-Man, then for once I did something good in my life.” Your head hangs in shame.

“We cannot save everyone, no matter how hard we try.” Miguel huffs, “At least…” He cups your face, slowly lifting your head to look at him, “I got to save you.”

“Migu-”

“Can I stay?” He asks, “I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m fine, I don’t need someone looking after me.” You pick up the bloody cotton balls and bandages.

“You’re shaking.”

“My arm still hurts and the adrenaline is still pumping.” You lie.

“Please don’t lie to me, (Y/n). You know how much I hate liars.” He comes closer, “Tell me what’s got you so distracted.”

“Everything about you. From your stupid, lovely hair to you entirely.Which is why I stayed away, I didn’t want to be so distracted that I’d cause the team to fall apart.” He cups your face once more and closes the space between you two. His lips falling onto yours.

It made Miguel’s heart beat faster and faster, and for some reason, the pit in his stomach grew even more. But it disappeared when he felt your arms come around his neck, standing on your toes.

He pulls away, “Distracted now?”

“Very.” You mumble.

“Are you letting me stay the night or will we have to go to my place?”

“Are you sure you want to leave Peter in charge for any longer?”

Oh, shit. He forgot about him.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

#x reader #x female reader #fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman #spider man 2099 #spider man x y/n #spiderman x you #spider man x reader #spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x y/n #spider man #spider verse

[rashomonss]

Readjusting

context: just a few somewhat angsty headcanons I have for when MC and Solomon return to the present after everything, enjoy!!

warnings: this does contain nightbringer spoilers

the past changes people

MC will often become more hesitant to talk to or even engage with the brothers. Due to being treated as an attendant in the past they now are used to it, so whenever one of the brothers tries to engage with them they find it hard to sit still or listen to said brother for long periods of time without feeling out of place.

MC will often mix up the fact that they are an exchange student rather than an attendant. When Diavolo claims that he wants MC to feel comfortable as an exchange student MC will respond with something along the lines of how they don’t need much because they’re the brothers attendant. Which in return gets a few confusing stares from others.

MC still carries out some of their duties as an attendant unconsciously. Such as keeping track of the brother’s schedules, events, student council meetings, etc. The brothers don’t mind at first however what they do find unpleasant is the fact MC always follows behind them instead of right beside them like they used too. This doesn’t register until one of them says something to MC, which they in turn respond with “I always follow behind all seven of you”. Which makes their hearts sink.

Still focusing on the attendant duties, MC will still continue to carry out anything asked of them without much of a fight. Since they were so used to carrying out such elaborate things when watching over the brothers in the past they are now used to doing such tasks for them. Most of the time this will confuse most of the brothers because MC is usually more vocal with their opinion on something.

MC will unconsciously be a bit harsher and stricter on the brothers than they usually were. Since being their attendant MC had to keep each of them on a tight leash so they wouldn’t get into trouble. So now in the present if they were to start fighting MC would be the first to show up to scold them instead of Lucifer.

MC will just straight up be petty with Lucifer for a while. Due to the things he said while they were in the past they still haven’t completely forgiven him. So whenever Lucifer mentions his “family”, MC finds themselves saying some remark along the lines of “well that doesn’t include me” or “just the seven of you I know. I leave you all alone” is enough to confuse and hurt the hell out of him. MC knows that Lucifer does really care for them in this timeline, but they can’t help it. His words really did hurt them deeply for awhile.

On another topic of MC’s attitude, Diavolo soon realizes that they are much more formal with him. The cute nickname Dia was dropped and he was always referred to by a title now. When Diavolo questioned them about formality MC simply explained that the past Barbatos didn’t like them referring to Diavolo in such a manner.

MC is now more vigilant around Satan, Belphegor and Barbatos, each for different reasons.

Satan is one that worries MC the most because they became used to having to deal with his violent outbursts and destructive episodes. So when Satan gets angry in the present MC will step in front of him and the brothers separating them. Satan soon grows confused when MC prepares a spell to restrain him.

Belphegor doesn’t worry MC as much as the other two, but after he found out they were a human in the past and tried to kill them again in response MC had to remain vigilant. They still do whenever they are alone with him. Which in turn makes the youngest guilty about the past.

Barbatos is someone MC keeps Solomon away from at all costs. After all MC was used to Barbatos teleporting the sorcerer around from place to place. It did become concerning when Solomon would show up later and later each time he came home. So to avoid that MC would make themselves and Solomon avoid the butler at all costs. However the present butler soon finds this behavior hurtful when MC constantly declines his offer to come over. In the end MC has a hard time remembering that this isn’t the past Barbatos.

Many soon noticed the strong bond MC now has with Solomon and of course they all become jealous. At first they noticed how MC would go to him for little things, or just prefer to be around him more, but when they asked about moving in with him rather than staying in the House of Lamentation it threw everyone for a loop. It made it even worse when MC said they’ll be there to help the brothers every morning like usual. They wanted MC to realize that they’re an exchange student not an attendant.

Many also notice how reliant they are on Solomon for certain things. Sometimes MC just needs Solomons presence in a room to be able to feel comfortable. If not MC will then become slightly annoyed or fidgety.

Solomon becomes more protective over MC without even realizing it. If he believes one of the brothers are being too bothersome to MC he will step in and whisk them away.

Solomon finds it easier to steal MC’s attention away now. Before when he would try and drag them away from the brothers, or even try and steal their attention for just a second it always failed. However with how close they both became in the past, if Solomon interrupts a conversation MC is having with the brothers MC finds themselves listening to him a bit more than the brother they were speaking with.

MC is much more reckless and blunt with their decision making now. Before they were a bit more collected with their thoughts. However being in the past made their impulsive decision making become a habit. Thus causing the brothers to sometimes question MC methods.

MC would often question the brothers as to why they weren’t in their demon forms. They suppose they just got used to seeing them in those outfits for so long now it became the norm.

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer spoilers #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me angst #obey me nightbringer angst

[wonbriiize]

bestfriend!Anton who puts you on his lap to give you affection, touches your hair, kisses you on the neck...being super clingy and fluffy :(

pairing; anton x reader

genre; fluff, best friends to lovers

note; i thought this was such a cute idea so i wrote something based on it.. hope u like it anon ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

listen to your heart

while working in retail isn’t all that horrible most of the time, you despise it over the holidays. everyone goes crazy as they search for last-minute christmas presents for their loved ones, friends or anyone else.

today was one of those days when everything was so annoying that you really thought about quitting your job right then and there.

luckily, your shift has ended and you are now on your way back home. you seem to be forgetting what a terrible day it has been so far as you imagine yourself curled up in your warm bed while drinking hot choco and watching your comfort movie.

“*y/n*, someone is waiting for you in your room,” your mom says after giving you a big hug when you arrive at home.

you‘re confused as to who it could be, until you recall that your best friend anton texted you saying he‘d drop by later as you were spamming him with messages about that one costumer who was extremely rude to you.

you run up the stairs to your room. you’re not so sure why you’re so eager to see anton, but you can’t help yourself. being with anton after a tiring day makes you feel at ease. he just has that effect on you.

“ohhh, slow down,” anton sits up on your bed. you can tell he made himself feel at home because just a second ago he was laying in your bed as if it was his own. “why are you running? is the rude customer after you?”

since you can’t tell anton that you hurried up to your room because of him, you just throw yourself on your bed. “no, i just really missed my bed. it has been an exhausting day.”

“and here i was hoping that you were running because you couldn’t wait to see me,” anton pouts, leaning back on your bed.

you’re right, you think. but i can’t let you know..

“well, apparently you were missing me because how are you at my house when i’m not even there?”

anton shrugs. “so what if i missed you, is it so wrong to miss your best friend?”

you’re shocked at how casually anton can say things like this. does he truly not realise how much of an impact his words have on you? it irritates you that he's saying these things and acting so dreamy when you're already trying to shake the thought that you like him — much more than you could ever imagine liking someone.

you sigh, laying down on your back. “i just really need to rest.”

“hey, come here,” anton pats next to him. “we can rest together.”

for a second, you’re not sure if you should really go and sit down next to him, because your feelings are all over the place today and you don’t know what could happen, but you push those thoughts aside and just go for it.

“you can lay your head on my lap. i will give you a head massage. i‘m a pro,” anton softly smiles at you.

god, he really isn’t making it easy to not fall in love with him, you sigh. your head is telling you not to do it, but for once in your life, you decide to listen to your heart instead.

you place your head gently on anton‘s lap. you’re afraid you won't be able to resist kissing anton if you open your eyes and see him staring down at you, hence why your eyes are closed.

anton starts massaging your head softly and you’re surprised at how good it actually feels.

“i didn’t expect you to be actually good at this,” you say.

“i told you i‘m a pro,” anton chuckles. hearing him giggle put a smile on your face and usually you would try to hide that, but right now, you’re just letting it happen.

“there it is,” anton whispers softly as he touches your cheek, causing you to open your eyes immediately.

“what?”

“your beautiful smile.”

you start laughing nervously. what’s his deal? why is he being extra sweet today?

“don’t say such things, anton.”

“why not?" his hand returns to your head, but instead of giving it a massage, he plays with your hair, twisting it around with his index finger.

“best friends don’t say that..” what you just said has a sad undertone, but you don’t care. maybe if anton knows that he’s kind of playing with your feelings, he will stop being like that.

anton shakes his head. “no, they don’t.. but here’s the thing, *y/n*..”

the sudden change in the atmosphere makes you nervous so you sit up. still close to anton, but there’s a little distance between the two of you now.

“i‘ve been trying to tell you for the longest time that i don’t want to be just best friends with you,” anton blurts out. “i thought it was obvious that i like you.”

world stop. anton likes me?

“but everytime i try to make a move you put me back in the friendzone, saying things like ‘best friends don’t do that..”

with a sincere expression of sadness that makes your heart hurt, anton glances down at his hands.

“i guess you really don’t like me in that way and i was just stupid to to think that-”

refusing to let anton continue, you take hold of his hand and place it directly over your heart.

“do you feel this?” you whisper.

anton nods unsure.

“my heart beats this fast everytime i‘m with you.”

“is that a good or a bad sign?” anton pulls his hand away and looks questionably at you.

his question makes you laugh. “of course it’s a good sign.. it means that you’re the reason why my heart feels so alive.”

“oh,” anton nods, a little smile forming on his face. “so you do like me.”

now it’s you who’s nodding.

just a while ago you didn’t want anton to know how you really feel about him because you were so afraid that the feeling was one-sided, but now that you know it’s mutual, you’re ready to take the initiative.

you slip closer to anton and sit down on his lap. first he’s surprised at your sudden move, but then you feel his arms around your waist, holding you close to him.

seconds later, your lips meet his. not only was your heart racing faster than before, but because your bodies were so close, you could literally feel anton‘s heart racing as well.

you weren't expecting it, but as anton plastered kisses all over your face and neck, things heated up quickly. you didn't want him to stop, but knowing that your parents could walk into your room at any point made you want to go slowly.

“maybe we should continue this when we are alone, like completely,” you whisper as anton was kissing your neck.

“hmmm,” kiss. “maybe..” kiss. “you‘re..” kiss. “right.”

he stops, looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.

“this big smile looks good on you,” you put your arms around antons neck.

“and you know why i’m smiling like this? it’s because of you,” anton softly whispers before he plants another kiss on your lips.

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