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totothewolff · 3 days

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The Big Slip

+18 | one shot | Toto x reader | romance, smut, drama, pinning.

Summary: Your life as a struggling arts graduate in Monaco, coming from a working-class family who lives on the outskirts, is about to change. Toto Wolff enters your life not only by giving you the best sex ever but also by making you love somebody for the first time. Arranged marriages, a horrible breakup, and an induced coma, plus his terrible parents, were a complete surprise. Author's note: Get ready for a ride!

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist - Toto hasn't been to his parents for a couple of years.

His relationship with them has gotten, how do you say it politely? Problematic?

The older and more independent he gets, the more he notices the enormous pressure they have inflicted on him from a young age.

Being the firstborn in a blue-blooded, deep-pocketed family, carrying the Wolff last name around places an immense weight on his shoulders.

He is required to be the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect gentleman, the perfect businessman, the perfect big brother, and the perfect heir.

"There's a lot on stake, Torger, not only millions," his father tells him at his massive and fancy in-home office. "You can't lose focus, this," he gestures with his finger around in a circular movement. "It will be all yours one day, and that," he points to a big and beautiful architectural model designed by Foster + Partners of their new offices and latest and giant factory based in Austria laying on the large meeting table made of expensive agarwood. "Will be yours to lead".

His dad isn't a normal one. Every time Toto gets called into his office, he feels nervous and timid, something that has never changed over the years.

His dad is a businessman first and a father second.

"Every choice you make matters, son. One day, you will become head of this family, an ambassador for our last name. Make us proud," he says, pouring himself and Toto a drink into a beautiful set of glasses. "Let's toast to that, to your future legacy."

He clinks his glass with Toto's.

Being an heir of the owners of the "Silver Wolff Mercedes F1 Racing Team" and "Wolff & Co." is supposed to be fun.

Being a part of that accelerated, fast-paced world full of excess, wealth, luxury, and stunning seductive women, a land with no limits.

Yet it isn't. It's a golden cage that people would give everything to get locked into, but it's still a cage.

"I'm moving to Monaco after graduation," Toto informs his father, again in his office, but years later, with all the courage he gained over the years, he feels ready to break those bars in his cage.

His parents sent him to study university at the LSE (London School of Economics), giving him a spoonful taste of freedom.

But he barely partied and slept around. He was required to be the perfect student, the top of the class, and the ideal college kid his parents could show off in social gatherings.

"Monaco?" the expression on his father's face is priceless.

"Yes. Water motorsports are on the rise. You know how much I love water! I could develop a racing team there, create a new branch for Silver Wolff, and enter the yacht market for Wolff & Co., handling it by myself."

"Before you return to your duty, the real one, this company, to Silver Wolff Mercedes. It will serve you as a pilot. Think of it as a five-year project."

"Yes, sir."

"Good," his father hugs him and kisses him on the cheek.

Toto feels proud of himself as he heads out of that office.

"Torger?" he turns around at his father, calling his name. "Don't lose focus."

What can you expect when you give total freedom to someone who hasn't tasted it before?

Parties, excess, women, all kinds and types of sex, alcohol, weed, everything, what he wanted, he had, he satiated all his appetites.

But at the end of the day, of the rush, he is alone.

Completely alone, with no real or deep relationship with anyone.

Toto built his life based on a "this is just a one-time thing only, a just-for-the-moment" philosophy, knowing that everything in his current life was temporary and that he isn't the actual owner of his life choices.

That's why he is not interested in building new friendships or having a girlfriend.

His real friends are his childhood friends, the kids of wealthy, upper-social-rank families his parents approved of and hung out with.

They are the ones who get him, who know what he is going through. And Obasi, his only real friend from college, Toto loves Obi.

Being the heir of a build-from-scratch empire of a Nigerian-rooted family that escaped the dictatorship, made it to England, and became incredibly successful is a burden more challenging than his.

Obi's parents expected him to make no mistakes, a margin of zero, and they had for him higher than the sky expectations.

The night is fully set in Monaco, and your boss gallery's lights illuminate the sidewalk as the prestigious Galerie d'Art 3816 is holding an exhibition.

Located on the famous Boulevard de la Croisette, it's buzzing as art lovers and collectors gather for the exclusive opening of "Lumière," a small but exquisite collection featuring an array of stunning paintings.

You worked your ass off to earn a spot and get featured, showcasing tonight two pieces as part of that exhibition, earning a well-deserved place.

With luck, a sponsor may see your work or art buyers will acquire them.

As guests enter the gallery, your boss greets them warmly and offers glasses of champagne.

The large room has white walls and a luxurious, polished grey marble floor. It's well-lit, and soft music plays in the background, creating an intimate atmosphere perfect for appreciating the displayed pieces.

As the evening goes on, champagne and canapés travel around while conversations flow freely.

At the same time, you attend the people interested in your paintings while some of your work colleagues sell and promote their own in their places.

Then your world spins around as you notice the tall guy, at least 6'2", whose presence seems to fill the room.

He is looking over the artworks on display one by one, his eyes lingering on each piece with an air of discernment.

His dark hair is styled perfectly, with a hint of messy charm, and the lighting in the gallery accentuates his sharp features.

The Greeks seemed to have carved his chiseled features, perfectly sharp jawline, and strong facial structure.

His suit, tailored to perfection, fit his broad shoulders and athletic build like a glove.

You can't help but feel a flutter in your chest as he moves towards you, his long strides eating up the distance between you.

"Oh! Mr. Wo-" Your boss tries to greet him. She approaches him in a rush, distracted by the other guests, without noticing when Toto enters.

"Mr. Bednarczyk, I'm Christian. It's nice to meet you," Toto lies to you, introducing himself, much to your boss's surprise, and cutting her off.

She plays along while he offers you a handshake and adds as you two lock eyes with each other, "Mr. Bednarczyk, we are glad you joined us." she says.

"That's unique," he points out, looking at the art in your painting, admiring every detail. Your boss takes this as a signal for her to leave you discuss.

Not before whispering to Toto's ear discreetly, "Christian Bednarczyk? Toto, what!?"

"My middle name and mom's maiden name. I don't want all the attention the Torger Wolff name drags around here."

He is right.

People in Monaco may not know what the Wolffs look like, but they have heard their last name and know what type of family they are.

What should have been a five-minute conversation between Toto and you lasted almost an hour.

You told him all about the meaning behind the painting, the techniques you used, your creative process, and more, feeling an instant connection with him.

A couple of other guests gather around to listen. In the end, a French businesswoman buys it.

"Happy for how it went?" Toto asks you.

"Yes! I sold the two paintings I got allowed to exhibit!" you answer as you do a little dance for him.

He looks only a few years older than you but seems full of youth and energy.

"So, now, can I buy you a drink?" he flirts with you.

"Yes, please." you feel your knees shaking.

Accepting his invitation to get some drinks results in a night of passion.

Toto's lips and teeth clash against yours, his tongue demanding entry. You part them, letting his tongue swirl around yours.

His hands roam your body, feeling your curves, then he squeezes your ass, pulling you closer to him.

You can feel his hardness pressed against you, and you reach for it; he groans, deep and guttural, his breath hot on your neck as he picks you up and carries you to the bed in a hotel room.

He lays you down gently, his hands cupping your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples through the light fabric of your dress.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters, his voice full of desire. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch.

You are desperate for more, desperate for him. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body responding to his touches.

Toto's fingers work fast, pulling out your dress and exposing your undies before getting them out of the way. He groans as he takes in the sight of you fully naked, his eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers.

He leans down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You gasp as he teases it with his tongue, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

"You're so fucking wet," he says, his hands now exploring your slick folds. You whimper as he circles your clit with his fingers, "I want to taste you," he states, his voice low.

You nod eagerly, unable to speak. Toto wastes no time.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and dives between your thighs. His tongue is warm and wet, tracing a path up and down your slit.

You moan as he explors with his mouth, parting your folds, his breath warm against your clit.

You bite your lip as he flicks his tongue against it. The sensation is intense and immediate. Your hips buck as Toto sucks it.

"Oh my god," you moan, digging your nails in the sheets beneath you. You are so close already, your body coiling with need.

Toto's fingers slide inside you, and you moan even louder. He presses against your G-spot, and you feel an orgasm rising inside of you.

And then, just as you are about to explode, Toto pulls away. You let out a whimper of protest as you feel your orgasm fade away into nothingness.

But Toto isn't done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

"You taste so fucking good," he moans as he crawls up your body, pressing his hard cock against you. "Do you want me inside of you?"

"Yes!" you answer while moaning as you feel his tip brush against your entrance. He is teasing you, and you love it.

You want him inside of you so badly it hurts. He pushes against you, inch by inch, until you are stretched around him, finally joined.

The feeling of his hard length filling you is indescribable, and you let out a gasp of pure ecstasy.

Toto thrust into you, his hips moving in rhythm. Each stroke brings a new burst of pleasure that almost brings you to your knees.

You grab onto his biceps to stay grounded.

Your moans become louder, more primal as he pounds you, sensing the pulse of his cock deep within you.

"Goddammit, Toto. Yes... yes..." you let out, your breaths becoming shallow gasps. Your muscles tremble with exertion, and sweat drips down your forehead.

You close your eyes, lost in the sensory overload, as he continues to thrust deep into you.

Your breasts are bouncing with each impact, and your heart is on the verge of exploding.

You are nearing the end but want to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Savor every moment of this encounter.

"Tell me how it feels," Toto demands. "Good god, you're so tight, so fucking perfect." Toto murmurs, continuing to pump hard into you.

You let out tiny cries, knowing that you are close to cumming. "Goddamn, you feel so good inside me. Your body is pure perfection," you moan.

He shifts positions, his body dominating yours again, and you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands hold your hips, pulling you closer. He kisses you passionately as his pace quickens, bodies moving faster.

You can hear the wet sound of skin slapping together with each hard thrust. Your body quivers in delight, feeling his strong hands grip your hips tight.

The way Toto moves inside you is delicious. He moves deep, giving you long, slow strokes as he continues to kiss you passionately.

"I want to hear it all, every dirty little thought that goes through your mind. I want to feel you clench around my cock when you get what you want."

His words send a thrill down your spine, igniting a fire. You rock your hips harder against him as he continues to thrust, his movements becoming more urgent, more frantic.

"Oh, fuck yes. Yes, Toto. I want you to claim me, to make me yours. I want to feel every inch of your thick cock stretching me open."

"Fuck, Y/N. That's what I like to hear."

"God, yes!" you cry as he hits the right spot.

"Tell me you want it," his voice raw. "Tell me you want me to make you cum."

You look into his eyes, seeing the desire and urgency reflected there, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"Make me cum, baby," you stammer; you are so close.

Toto's expression changes at your words, and he looks more determined than ever to make you finish.

With a low growl, he increases his pace, his hips snapping against yours with animal urgency, taking your breath away.

Your hands go to Toto's ripped abs; you can feel his muscles flexing as he drives into you with fierce movements.

"God, yes," you pant, trying to hold on as best you can.

Toto's hips are a blur, his body moving with intensity you have never experienced before. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, your sweat-slick bodies slamming together.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum," you cry, your voice hoarse with pleasure. The orgasm is building.

Your whole body is trembling, and you can feel every inch of you tingling with anticipation. You sink your teeth into Toto's shoulder as he continues to pound hard into you.

"Yes, yes, YES!" you cry out, surrendering to the pleasure, giving yourself completely to him. The orgasm hits you suddenly, and you feel your body convulse, releasing.

You hear yourself yelling out his name as Toto keeps thrusting, mercifully prolonging your orgasm. His hips continue to snap into you as a guttural moan tears from deep from his throat as he comes too.

He moans so deliciously as he finishes, firm chest going up and down, you can't around running your nails on it, as he recovers his breath.

"It was spectacular," you say the following day while sharing breakfast, looking at him with adoring eyes. Oh, the things he did to you were just wow.

"I totally agree." he gives you a cheeky smile.

"You seeing someone? Maybe we could..."

"Sorry, I can't. This was a one-time thing, sadly. I'm not looking for that, but I can give you my number if you want to be friends." Toto explains, looking at the dismay on your face.

"Sounds good, better than wiping you off from existence!" you chuckle.

And you two become "friends"!

"Friends" that text each other daily and hang out at any minute possible.

Who were you kidding?! FRIENDS?!

You are utterly into that man. And he seems also into you.

"Well, that was a complete failure." You sigh as you close the gallery.

Only eight people attended your personal art exhibition, and you did not sell a single piece.

Toto is carrying your stuff around in a box. You two cross the street to grab a seat on the pier, which overlooks the harbor and the sea, and hang out a bit more.

"You okay?" He bumps your arm with his, looking at your sad eyes.

"I want to make my parents feel proud of me. I know they haven't asked me for that. They only want me to be happy! But I know the effort they made to put me through college, and you know, I want to be successful so I can help them out so they don't have to work that hard anymore. They aren't that young," you answer.

Toto looks fondly at you and catches the single tear sliding down your cheek with his thumb finger before caressing your face tenderly.

"You are a good daughter. Even if your parents haven't asked you for anything, you feel a need to deliver. It will come! Don't get impatient! No one starts with instant success. Usually, there are a couple of years of struggle before it. Focus on what lies ahead."

"Why are you so smart?!" he smiles shyly at your question, his cheeks blushing. "Can I kiss you?" you come closer to his lips. "I know you told me we'd be friends only, but can we be of those friends who kiss each other?"

He laughs softly before claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. "I don't think those friends exist. I don't think those are called friends." Toto replies.

You laugh. "Damn, you got me!" and after a couple of minutes, you dare to ask. "What is it about me that doesn't convince you?"

"It's not, listen, ahem..."

"I'm single and have a boyfriend job opening right now. There is no need for an interview for you, in case you are interested," you invite him shyly, asking him to please date you.

To which Toto blushes and looks down at the floor.

There's a silence break in which you slowly take distance from him, returning to where you were sitting before kissing him.

"Can I change your mind?" you ask softly at his lack of reply, which sounds more like a plea.

He turns to look at you but doesn't say yes, which hurts you. He can see it in your watery eyes.

"It's getting late. So I bett-"

"Don't leave, please." He sounds earnest.

"Chris, I'm not sure I can only be your friend with these dumb feelings I have for you. I don't know how to be around you without wanting to be with you. I'm sorry."

"This amazing idea you made of me may be wrong. I'm not that ..."

"You are kind and fun. I love those dumb reaction faces you do," a small smile forms on your lips. "You are very gentlemanly, holding the doors open for me and standing up when I arrive. I have never seen that one before! Also, holding my hand on stairs and carrying my stuff around, you make me feel so special."

"Every time we talk, it feels meaningful. Gosh, I love sharing life with you. You are so full of great advice, you know?" you continue.

No one had shown Toto such earnest affection before, not so openly.

"I can be your life coach if you have that job offer available," Toto says. You can feel his eyes piercing your skin. He is looking at you with such intensity.

"I don't know. You, you feel too meaningful, this," you gesture with your finger between you, "Feels special. And let's not talk about all of this going on here," you move your hand around, gesturing to Toto's face and body. "All this tallness hotness stuff you got going and under gets even better," you quickly add, every word speaking faster. "Those things you did to me the other night, Jesus! We could, you know, repeat it sometime or many."

A huge smile forms on his lips before he relaxes again, watching you joke around.

"I really gotta leave, tho," you say.

"Can I at least drive you home?" his voice sounds slightly sad.

"Oh, hey, no worries, it's far. That's some gas you are going to spend. I can grab the transp-"

"Please"

"I live on the outskirts projects. Do you know where those are?"

His father's best friend's real estate company developed the units in those buildings. Of course, he knows where those are! "Yes, I have an idea, but you can guide us there."

"You sure?"

"Hundred percent"

It's a quiet ride at first.

"Gaga, really?"

"What?" he looks at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road as "Shallow" plays in the back.

"Are you a pop girlie?! That's... you know."

He starts laughing at your reaction, judging his music taste. "Unexpected?"

"Give me." You grab his phone from the car's cup holder on the central console.

"Password?" you ask.

"041123"

"Does it have a meaning?"

"It's a birthday."

"From who?"

"A girl"

"Oh," your mild jealousy showing.

"My sister's, not... there's no one else, so you know."

There's silence for a bit. So, you keep searching on Spotify for a song you like.

"Then, why not me? If there's no one else in your life," you ask before thinking, shit! It would be best to stop pushing him, but you can't.

He gives you no answer again, and things start to feel awkward for a few streets while Arctic Monkeys play in the back.

The streets of Monaco never look more attractive as you observe them through the car's window, not being able to look at Toto and feeling embarrassed. Rejections are uncomfortable.

"Do you have or had someone?" he asks, trying to regain your attention, feeling awful too.

"I had a boyfriend for years. He was my neighbor, and he still is, sort of, he moved a couple of buildings away. Let's say he forgot he was my boyfriend before having a new girlfriend. That's a cool photo on your locked screen! I have never skied, and those snow outfits always look so cool. So handsome, gorgeous smile. Turn left here and go all the way there. Oh, you went the other way, ahem."

"You said left; this is left," Toto informs you, side-eying you.

"Oh!" you smile at him. "It was to the right, then." You make a funny oopsie face.

You open the Apple Maps app and pin your address before passing him the phone at a red light.

"Okay, got it now." Toto gives you his phone back.

"Have I told you when I got "lost" downtown? My parents went crazy! It turns out I never left the street; I just went right thinking it was left."

"WHAT?!"

"Oh yeah, get comfy on your seat, Chris. The wackiest shit always happens to me," you tell Toto before sharing that memory with him.

When you finally arrive in your neighborhood, it takes you forever to get to your home because you keep telling him anecdotes and memories of things that happened to you in various spots.

Toto slows down the car, amused and more than engaged in the conversation.

"And on that sloping street we used to bike down! Oh, and on Charlotte's birthday - a girl that used to live in that house in that street - we went to slide down during her party held in their front garden, and I hit the sidewalk there and flew to the grass next to it. My dress got all green in the belly and chest, and I flashed the entire party with my Hello Kitty panties before my mom rushed to see if I was okay and pulled down my dress; well, at least the guests got to know me!" you two laugh heartfully. "And that's me." You point to a building.

Suddenly, your eyebrows frown, and a concerned look fills your face.

"You good?!" Toto asks you, worried.

"Why is my dad in PJs out in the street?!"

A big guy wearing no shirt, belly on full display, not a fit body at all, and pajama pants bottoms wearing sandals was in a rush walking around the street, looking for something.

Toto parks the car, and you get out of it quickly. He follows you.

On your way to your dad, you find your mom, also wearing pajamas, hair a mess, crying in your building's entry hallway.

You instantly hug her.

"I left the door open a second!, just to get the Amazon package inside! And "Chico" went off, he ran so fast down the stairs, we can't find him anywhere! It's my fault!"

You comfort her before getting all emotional, too, and scared for Chico's well-being. Your dog flew the house; he is tiny, old, and almost blind, which is not good.

After one hour of searching, your family, Toto, and some neighbors still haven't found Chico.

You turn around, all desperate, and bury yourself in Toto's chest, weeping, where he wraps you in his arms and comforts you, rubbing you.

"Let's keep looking. Chico must be near."

"What if he got run over?"

"Shh, don't think of that." Toto kisses your head and soothes you. "We will find him, okay?" He bends a bit to rub his nose against yours softly and gives you a couple of brief kisses.

Your parents witness it all.

Around two hours later, Toto goes exploring further away from the park again.

This time, he hears muffled dog cries in the distance, so he follows the sound to find Chico under some tall bushes in a neighbor's open yard.

His little leg got stuck between the big branches, so Toto rushes to get him out and leave before he gets in trouble.

He returns to your building with Chico in his arms, who looks even smaller in those muscular arms and is all dirty.

Your mom and you run to Toto and pat Chico before hugging the Austrian from both sides.

"Our girls' hero!" your dad approaches you all and tells the dog. Chico, don't scare us like that!" before addressing Toto. "Okay, let's go. I buy the beers. We still can catch some of the game." He pats Toto's arm, assuming he is your boyfriend.

"Let me see what I can make for dinner." your mom tells you.

"Go ahead," you ask them two, wanting to have a time alone with Toto.

"Please, give me a chance. I promise you won't regret me," you beg him.

He nods.

Toto can't keep ignoring his feelings for you, which is reckless, before you two kiss while leaning on Toto's black Mercedes car - the one he told you he got lucky to inherit from his late godfather - and while holding hands.

"Honey?!" your mom calls you from the window on the second floor. Your apartment faces the street and a small grass patch. "Can you go get some cheese?"

"And more beers!" you hear your parent scream from inside. You have that bad habit of doing that.

Your relationship feels like a dream. It's healthy, romantic, supporting, and spicy.

There are weeks you can't keep your hands off each other or your clothes on.

Everything is soft and tender between you, helping and supporting each other throughout the day's challenges.

You talk a lot, but he is pretty reserved. You respect that and hope that time and love will change it. You want him to feel secure and loved enough to open up.

Toto extends his visit, staying longer after his sister's baby's christening mass and gathering in Austria at their parent's state.

He loves his young sister more than anything in life.

He wanted to spend some time with her and her kids, who were also staying there, but as soon as they left their childhood home, he remembered why he had stayed away.

The following day, at the garden breakfast table, his parents bring up the always-expected topic: "Torger, my dear, your father and I are worried. It's been almost seven years since you left for Monaco, two more years that agreed."

"We need you around, son. I'm afraid you are falling behind on how to handle the business only with your brief appearances with the team and at the factory," his father adds.

"I have known how the business works perfectly since I was a child; that is all you taught me. Haven't I succeeded with the new assets I created?"

"Yes. Monaco has been a total success. But you made a promise, and a Wolff keeps them. Your duty is with Silver Wolff Mercedes and this family. Man up to it." his dad gives him the ultimatum.

"I know it, believe me. But fine, I will prepare everything for my return."

"When will this be?" his father asks, growing impatient at his current lack of control over his son.

"By the end of this year. It's time enough to handle our aquatic racing team to another team principal."

"Perfect," his dad looks pleased.

"There's also another subject we would like to discuss," his mom has the word again.

Okay, this one is unexpected.

"We can't keep avoiding the fact that you have reached an age to settle down with no proper prospects. We think we could help you with that departm-"

"Hold your horses there." Toto steps in.

"Did you interrupt your mother? Your manners also stayed in Monaco?" his father looks at him sternly.

His dad has this really angry-looking resting face, but he is actually quite easygoing and even goofy sometimes.

"Sorry, continue"

"Most of your friends got married the past few years, your cousins are all fathers now, and even your baby sister has welcomed her second child. It's time for you, too. The daughter of my friend Anya is a perfect and stunning fit. She has always liked you."

"I can get girls on my own, mom, thank you."

"Yes, of course you can! You are smart, successful, handsome, fit, and wealthy. What's not to like?!" His mom gives him a look.

"Then, the problem is?"

"That finding the fit for you is not that easy. You need a girl that matches everything listed before to be even."

God! Toto had forgotten how old school his parents are.

"We are arranging this for you," his dad informs him.

"Are you like for real?! Arranging for me a marriage? Oh! Man," Toto's expression is priceless.

"Why are you articulating like that?" his dad looks at him, not in a good mood anymore.

"Like a commoner!" his mom adds. "Didn't we give you higher education? What's on the water in Monaco? It's not doing you well."

Toto chuckles but does not answer. Spending time with you and your is showing.

"Well, it's not like your father and I precisely met on a cruise, didn't we? Our parents arranged it, yet we formed a successful marriage with wonderful children."

"Understood." Toto plays along with it, not feeling like fighting it. They were sort of right.

You go to a fancy restaurant for your one-year anniversary. Toto never lets you pay for anything, and you tell him several times it isn't necessary.

Monaco is expensive for the working class, and you know the struggle. You don't want him to feel that type of pressure on him.

You know he works as a coach on an aquatic racing team in town, which is not a high-salary job precisely.

But he insists, and any hint of you putting a fight tonight goes away the moment he picks you up wearing that fancy suit, looking unbelievably handsome.

You are left speechless, and he closes your mouth with a finger on your chin before kissing your lips and hand.

"Wow," he whispers to you while he looks you up. You are wearing a fancy, tight blue dress, all glam up. "I'm so lucky." Toto lets out.

During dinner, an "I love you" scapes your lips.

Toto gets saved by the bell in the form of a marriage proposal happening in the following table.

You two clap for the couple like the rest of the people at the tables surrounding them when she says yes.

When Toto turns around, he sees you looking at him in a way he wants to shoot himself.

What had he done!?

How could he have been so irresponsible?

He hates himself for being unable to say no to you from the beginning.

While you two make love passionately, you ask him while riding him, his dick filling you completely as you rock your hips eagerly, bouncing on him while holding hands and between moans that he stays forever.

Toto has a full-on panic attack in the bathroom of the hotel suite you went to spend your anniversary night while you peacefully sleep after fucking your brains off, not knowing what to do now.

You shouldn't be part of his life. This wasn't supposed to happen!

But the fear of losing you is equal to his fear of hurting you.

To confess is not an option. God! You will hate him when you discover the truth and that he lied to you about his life since the day you met him.

This Christian Bednarczyk is a facade that hides something worse, Toto Wolff.

"A what?!" Your parents and you all turn to look at him with a funny face, all situated at the outdoor table.

You went camping on a family trip for the weekend.

"What's with all those fancy words you say here and there?" your mom asks.

"Yeah, right? I also noticed!" you add, pointing.

"You went to one of those "big farts" schools?" your dad questions him while biting his steak.

"Baby, do you want something else?" you ask Toto as you continue placing food on the big plate in the middle of the table and still taking ribs from the grill.

"No, love, I'm so full!" Toto rubs his belly.

"We ate half a cow already." your dad colorfully adds, as usual, still a bit of food in his mouth.

Toto and your dad nod, recognizing themselves as guilty.

"I used to read a lot," Toto answers his question.

"That's from where your posh English comes from. Makes sense! Honey, pass Mr. Thesaurus here another beer?" your dad messes around and requests you.

Their relationship is as great as yours is.

Toto loves to hang out with your family. Sometimes, he is even at your parents' tiny apartment, where you still live, not yet able to afford a place of your own, when you are not.

Where they constantly and unintentionally embarrass you in front of him, creating lots of funny moments on both sides.

Your parents knew no shame, and Toto's out-of-touch secret silver spoon upbringing sometimes made him say and do things that made him look like he was from Mars. Not teasing him was impossible.

But all in good spirits!

It's Sunday morning.

Toto and your dad watch the race in the living room while you are in the kitchen sink, blending acrylic paints and listening to their funny, excited little screams.

They are both fans of the F1. As the race is in the final laps with a clear winner and they go to commercial break, Toto goes to the fridge for a can of Coca-Cola.

"Pss, pss," you grab his attention.

He turns to you to see you approaching him and softly pushing him to the broom closet; he puts no resistance.

"Yes?" he asks you suspiciously, standing beside a mop.

You steal a passionate kiss from him first, and as you pull away to catch your breaths, you explain.

"Mom and I are saving to get tickets to the race here in Monaco for dad as a birthday gift. Do you want to come? We plan to have breakfast at that seafood place he took us once."

"The one with the delicious baked coconut shrimp?"

"Yes, the one with the cook owner with a lazy eye."

"Captain Evil Eye"

You two invented a whole backstory in which that dude used to be a pirate in his prime.

"And then, off to the race! We plan on going all dress the same, you know, dad's team."

The idea of Toto showing up in Ferrari gear was hilarious. That man had poor taste in all senses, but especially in teams.

Actually, it was a great and iconic team, but their fierce rival was so it was an instant and natural despise.

"I would love to, but I'll be in Austria, remember? I plan on giving your dad his birthday gift before leaving."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot! Son of a Biscuit!"

"Yup!" Toto says it like you do.

"What are you two doing hiding there in the broom closet?!" Your dad says as he gives you THE LOOK, now standing before you, opening the door. "I would like to remind you, Chris, I'm a police officer and have my gun in that drawer," your dad messes around.

Toto raises both hands and gets out of there and away from you. "I didn't even touch her," he says while collecting his stuff and heading to the door. "Oh, but she did!" he jokes, quickly closing the door after him as your mom and you die of laughter.

"You better run!" your dad says aloud.

"See you at night! It's sushi night!" Toto screams from the street as you and Chico appear on the window.

"Have a great day, sweety!" your mom warmly screams Toto goodbye.

He was coaching today.

Toto hates to lie to you.

He did not travel to Austria. He is there at the race, but at the pitlane in his team's garage, away from the cameras, next to his dad running this thing.

The live coverage crew knows they can't shoot any of the Wolff family members, and they don't dare disobey, so there is no risk since you and your family are in a sector far far away.

By this point, Toto's family has been trying to arrange a marriage for him with his father's goddaughter for months. Her name is Emma. She is a lovely girl, but she is not you.

Toto's parents think they successfully brainwashed him into thinking he is old enough now to settle down and form a family.

Not only to keep the family's social rank and prestige but also to bear beautiful children with a gorgeous rich wife and grow the fortune of his future heirs.

Toto plays along with it, but he is no longer interested in anyone after being with you.

Be dating you is the best well-kept secret that he has held from his parents throughout his life.

Only Obi knows about you. He won't risk his other friends opening their mouths, spreading the rumor among the elites, and reaching his family.

There is no part of you Toto didn't explore, a corner of your body he didn't touch, or part of you he doesn't own.

On a Thursday after work, you meet Obi, Toto's roommate. Since they both share a tiny apartment without privacy, Toto never takes you there.

Obi is so handsome and tall, with a gorgeous smile and a sexy British accent; he looks like an African prince. He is super fun, light-spirited, and a clear best friend of your boyfriend.

Thanks to him, you get to know a bit more about Toto's life, well, about Chris's life.

They met in college.

"Two broke kids with crazy parents," Obi says among laughs.

Then you find out that Toto is not close with his parents, that's why he never mentions them.

You want to know why Toto's relationship with his parents got strangled. Maybe you can help to fix it.

When you ask the real questions, he dodges them, along with your requests to meet his family, even though he has met everyone relatively important in your life, even your dog!

A month passes, and Toto picks you up to go on a date, but you forget your paintbrush roll-up bag upstairs in the workshop, where you work above the gallery.

He offers to get it, and while you wait for him, you grab his phone to put your shared couple's playlist with songs both of you like.

Whenever you unlock his phone, it warms your heart. Toto changed his password to your birth date.

Amidst choosing a song, a text arrives from some "Emma,"

You aren't toxic, not one of those people who routinely nose in their partner's phones, but this one makes your jealousy monster come out.

Why is this girl calling him "my love"?

God, you wish you hadn't opened that conversation.

As Toto opens the door to get back inside the car, he gets welcomed by you, holding his phone and looking mad before asking him:

"Whose Emma?"

FUCK!

TORGER YOU FUCKING IDIOT!

FUCK!

"Let me explain to you, please."

Tears are filling your eyes.

"Wait, not, please don't do that, don't cry," he looks desperate.

Then, you finally discover he has been seeing another woman for potential nuptials due to his parent's idea of arranging his marriage. You are a secret he has kept from them.

"So all this time, I was the "meanwhile," an entertainment for when the real one arrived." you sound so hurt and bitter.

"Don't say that." Toto looks anguished.

"That's why you didn't say it back."

"What?" he asks.

"When I told you I love you,"

"I hate myself more than you can imagine for hurting you like this. I didn't plan for any of this! It happened, and I couldn't be more grateful to have you in my life. You have no idea how much you have healed me. I was completely lost before you, and I don't want to break your heart..."

"Too late for that! Thank you, asshole, for exploding it into pieces." you interrupt him. "I will help you and your parents with that; I'm going to stay the fuck away of your life. I'm a fucking idiot!"

"I'm the fucking idiot here, for not being honest with you, for the lies, for everything. Please forgive! Don't leave me," Toto is begging for his life.

"Does the sorry for everything part also involve me?!" tears are everywhere on your face, but rage is starting to show, too.

"For hurting you! Do you think I regret any of this?! That I regret us!?! You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me!" Toto confesses now in a loud voice, too heated.

"Yet not great enough apparently to put an end to that shit circus going on with your family. If you truly loved me, you would fight for me, for us."

"Y/N, you don't know them..." Toto barely murmurs.

"Wrong answer," you say, lips trembling, before exiting the car and slamming the door.

Every step you take away from him kills you. You are so disheveled that you can't even show up to your parents.

As the weeks go by, you still look like a depressed mess, a shell of a person living life.

Not wanting to leave the bed, shower, eat, or go out.

Your mom and dad are distraught. Your dad even suggests you go to "the looney."

God, he tries! But that is how concerned he is.

It is clear to them that Toto and you broke up, and they are sad about it, too. They considered him part of the family, but there isn't a clear explanation yet.

To touch the subject with you is impossible, so they cease.

Time plus painting helps you heal, and your art becomes more edgy and moody, which sells well. At least a positive outcome of this!

You blocked Toto out of your life. And you are still trying to erase him from your mind, heart, and body.

Five months have passed since you two broke up when a call comes from an unlisted number.

You answer your phone a bit dubious.

"Miss Y/N Y/LN?" the voice of a professional-sounding woman answers.

"Yes, who's speaking?"

"I am contacting you from the front desk of the ER at Princess Grace Hospital here in Monaco" Fuck! Something happened to your parents! You start to panic. "On behalf of Dr. Gastaud, you appear listed as Mr. Torger Wolff's emergency contact. He is curre-"

"Oh, wrong number, then. I don't know that person." You feel a brief sense of relief.

"Oh? But all your information is on our system. Are you sure you don't know patient Torger Christian Wolff Bednarczyk?"

"Christian! Yes, of course, is he okay!?" you feel your heart in your throat.

"We just moved him to intensive care. We need you here as soon as possible." She sounds so calm in comparison to you.

"I'm on my way!"

As the male nurse rushes Toto's IC bed across the doors, the doctor explains to you as you two walk alongside it at the same pace.

"Apparently, he was on the deck of his yacht where he slipped and hit his head. His staff brought him here."

His yacht? His staff?! What?!

"The blood tests showed a high ingest of alcohol in his system." The doctor continues.

But Chris doesn't drink like that! He barely likes beers. Why?!

"He hit his head against the yacht's railing and has lost a lot of blood; according to the x-rays and the MRI, his brain is a bit swollen, and his arm got broken. I need your approval, miss."

The doctor stops for a second, grabbing the clipboard at the end of Toto's bed, next to his feet.

"What for?!"

"To induce him into a coma," the doctor answers.

You feel like fainting.

"I, I, I..." you are entering a state of shock that the doctor immediately recognizes as being used to dealing with those.

"Miss Y/LN," he snaps his fingers, getting you back. "We are losing time. It's the best option to stabilize and prevent him from leaving us. Do you approve of it?" The doctor shoves the clipboard to you.

"Yes," you feel your soul leaving your body.

"Sign here and wait there. It's going to take time," the doctor informs you.

You notify your parents about the situation. They immediately come to the hospital to join you while you wait for Toto's procedure to finish.

"We brought you dinner," your mom sweetly mentions.

"Thank you, mom, but I'm not hungry. Actually, I threw up a bit ago," you confess.

"Let's pray, then." your mom grabs your shaky hands.

After it gets done, they move Toto to an intensive care room; tons of tubes, cables, and saline and meds bags get plugged into him.

This is and looks like a nightmare.

It feels so wrong for you two to reunite like this since you called it quits.

Then, as the hurtful memory of that day hits you back, an even worse crosses your mind.

His parents. They need to know! Do they know already? Did they get notified, too?

Around 3 a.m., you gather the energy to go to the front desk. Your mom stayed with you at the hospital to spend the night. She will look over Toto as you investigate.

This room and the whole private area look expensive. It would be best to ask about Toto's insurance and the bills here. You are already worrying about how he is going to pay for it. You have some savings he could use if needed.

"Hi, miss. Did Mr. Wolff's parents get notified, too?" you ask the lady who called you.

"We only notify the people on his emergency contact list; you were the only one registered there," she explains.

"Oh..."

"But you can contact his insurance agent. They usually notify the patient's family. Personally, I never rely on the insurance people; sometimes they are the worst," she whispers to you, hiding behind her palm.

You look at her with a blank expression.

"Would you like the phone number to call?" she looks at you, a bit confused.

Why would you ask her for all this essential information about your husband? He registered you as his wife on the list.

Only if she knew.

She prints a sheet of paper and underlines some numbers with her blue pen.

"Thank you so much."

After a lengthy exchange with the insurance people and many revelations you didn't see coming, you obtain the number of Toto's father's office.

They indeed live in Austria. Toto's insurance covers him up to millions, a shocking amount, and the "Wolffs" are an important family you should know about.

You check on Google if it's a suitable hour to call Austria before remembering this is an emergency.

Toto appears stable, but he is not progressing as the doctor hoped. There is still not much brain activity on the damaged part.

You gain the courage to hit the call button after going over and over about how to introduce yourself and explain what is happening.

"Miss Y/N, hold in the line for a second. Thank you," Toto's father's beautiful assistant, sitting at her desk, tells you as she pushes a button on the intercom while holding the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Mr. Wolff! I have a girl on the line who says she is your son's girlfriend. She needs to inform you something about Toto. It sounds important."

Emma?! Did Torger propose to her? His dad thinks. "Yes, communicate her."

His dad picks up the phone.

"Emma? Good afternoon, dear. How can I help you?"

So Toto is still with her?

"Good night, Mr. Wolff," your voice takes him by surprise. "I'm Y/N Y/LN. Your son is in intensive care at Princess Grace Hospital here in Monaco. We don't know how, but he slipped on a yacht deck, hitting his head with the railing. The hospital notified me, so I came as quickly as possible."

"How is my son doing? Please send all the information to my assistant's number. We will arrive there soon." He sounds genuinely concerned.

"He is stable, sir," you feel your voice cracking. "But he is not progressing as the doctors expected."

"What doctors? I need the names and the medical records sent to me. We would go through them on the jet on our way there. We have many top-tier medical professionals on call."

"Ahem, give me a second. I'm searching for the full names," you say as you ask your mom to pass you some papers. Mr. Wolff hears other voices around you.

"Is this a scam?!" he sounds mad now.

"Sorry?"

"Whose there?"

"My mom"

"I have no idea who any of you are or why my son is in there with you. Hold," he pushes a button and asks his assistant to contact Torger.

No answer, she tries again.

"Could you tell Mr. Wolff to keep the conversation on the other line?" you answer from Toto's phone.

The nurse just handed you a bag with the belongings Toto was admitted with at the hospital just a second ago. His bloodstained clothes disturbed you deeply.

This would have been very helpful hours before.

It turns out his phone is still on, and Toto hasn't changed his password.

"Mr. Wolff, why would I be joking with something as serious as this?"

"It's unexpected news."

"For all of us, I asked the nurse for the medical records. I already sent the doctor's names to your assistant."

"Is my son heavily medicated, resting, or is he able to talk to us?" Toto's mom is also present and listening through the speaker.

"He is in a coma."

"WHO PERMITTED YOU TO INDUCE MY SON INTO A COMA! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? ARE YOU AWARE HOW DANGEROUS IT IS? THE MINIMAL MISTAKE COULD DAMAGE HIM FOR LIFE IF NOT KILL HIM."

You can hear the screams coming from inside as Mr. Wolff is at a reunion with the doctors.

Your parents and you are sitting on one side of the narrow hallway, and Toto's mom is on the other, right in front of you, without talking to you.

Toto is getting "showered" by the nurse, and you all leave the room to give him privacy.

His mom is so beautiful and well-dressed that you feel almost ashamed of how you look at the moment, but those were the clothes you were wearing when they gave you the news. You haven't left the hospital for a second.

"Mom, could you please bring me some fresh clothes and my things."

"But honey, we don't want to leave you alone."

"No worries, Mr. and Mrs. Wolff are here, too."

"Are you sure?" she asks, concerned because they don't appear particularly friendly toward any of you.

You nod.

"We'll return faster than a kid getting chased by a dog," your dad says, waving and loudly addressing Mrs. Wolff. She scrutinizes him and slightly nods.

After some minutes alone, she asks you.

"Why brought him to this cheap hospital?" she looks around, not pleased with what she sees.

"It's near the harbor where his yacht apparently is."

"Young lady, if you had any involvement in his accident, you should speak right now; our detectives will conduct an investigation."

"Detectives?"

"Well, our son is worth millions, and our family billions, and you, out of nowhere, appeared as his emergency contact, also as his caretaker and the primary beneficiary in case something happens to him." she says, her eyes piercing brown eyes looking into your soul. Toto added you some months ago without telling you anything. "And suddenly, this happens."

"WHAT?!" Okay, this is just not real. "I wasn't even there when it happened, and I had no idea about everything you mentioned."

Toto's parents want you out of the picture as soon as possible. Now it's clear to them you are the reason why Toto keeps pushing away his engagement with Emma.

They act cold to you and yours. However, the hospital and doctors allow you to stay and partake in life decision-making regarding him and the procedures he needs since you are also Toto's legal caretaker, much to their dislike.

"How much?" his father catches you off guard one afternoon.

"Pardon?"

"How much money do you want to stay away?"

"I'm not here for any of that. Please don't ask me that again; it's insulting," you warn Toto's dad, not letting you be intimidated by him and holding his stare.

This surprises them and earns you some of their respect.

Your life becomes being by Toto's side at the hospital, swallowing your social life, job, and income.

Toto's parents listen to the call in which your boss, against all her will, has no other remedy to fire you. You take it easy before returning to shaving Toto's beard tenderly and fixing his hair with a comb.

A brief, empathetic look crosses Toto's mom's eyes.

Still, your parents support you, knowing how much this and he means to you, yet unsure why you two ended things up since you both seemed so in love.

You remain silent under Toto's parents' continuous demands to know all about your relationship, current status, and details.

"Did you were sleeping around with our son?" his mom asks.

"We were in love and were in a relationship."

You refuse to speak more than that about it because it is personal, it's none of their business, and it also still hurts, and you don't want to give them the pleasure.

One day, they arrive with Emma; that girl is stunning and as classy and elegant as them.

She rushes in and places herself on the side of Toto's IC bed before tenderly caressing his cheeks and kissing his lips.

All in front of you, inside, you want to smack her away from him, but you know she is in no way responsible for this situation; she was dragged into this mess, too.

You remain quiet, watching it unfold before you. To Toto's parents' surprise, they expected a big drama.

After she leaves, they talk to you, explaining why they believe Emma is a better fit for Toto than you in all aspects and that if you love their son, you should step aside since you and your family don't belong with their kind.

A couple of days later, Toto undergoes another surgery but fails to stabilize.

Doctors are unable to make more progress with him, so his father ponders moving Toto to a better hospital in Austria or Switzerland after finding a legal grey area in the caretaker clause, which sends you into a frenzy and full panic that they take Toto away.

"Moving him is a risk, a gamble," you warn them.

"We don't see enough progress here."

"And over there would be any different? They can assure you that?" you ask.

"No, they can't."

That idea doesn't materialize anyway because, throughout that night, Toto's condition gets worse, and you all learn he could die.

That causes you to enter into the worst depressive mood you have ever had and look significantly affected in the eyes of Toto's parents.

This raises questions in their mind that you might be more than a side chick and your connection more profound than just sex and financial interest, as you claimed several times, to their disbelief.

Toto needs to undergo a risky procedure. There's a tiny chance of survival, but a speedy and total recovery awaits him if he does.

Your family and his gather to say goodbye as Toto gets moved at the doors leading to the operation room.

You don't know what to say. You're full of fear, so your dad goes first.

"Hey, big guy, once you told us you were strong enough, with those big arms of yours, to take down John Cena, I'm sure you will be strong enough to tackle this down," you and your parents chuckle at the inner joke.

The three of you remember that day you all got in the new furniture up the stairs.

You laugh until your laughter quickly turns to tears, and you break down for the first time. Your dad hugs you tightly.

"He loves you so much, enough to not run away from you and us after that day!" your mom adds, looking at you with a tiny smile. "You can do this, sweetie." she grabs Toto's hand and addresses him.

You are a total mess when you get close to him. You rest your temple in his. "Please don't leave me, please; I love you, Torger," you beg him, using this name for the first time.

Toto's family observes you say goodbye, giving you the space to it.

Before they come closer to kissing his son's forehead, "We love you, and we'll see you soon."

He survives, Toto is out of risk, and he is in excellent condition for a transfer to another hospital.

So you make a deal with his parents to not take him away from you.

They will allow Toto to remain at this hospital and you to be by his side till he finishes recovering fully.

But after that, you will be out of his life for good.

Two weeks later, Toto's health improves, bringing him out of the coma.

Toto's vision is blurry. His eyes cannot focus well, and the light hurts him a lot. He also hears a loud whistle in his ears.

He thinks he hears people say, "He's baiting his eyes." "Yes, he is opening them."

He rubs the palm of his right hand against his face, closing his eyes again before being able to focus more. Shapes become more precise as he turns his head to the side and sees you.

"Y/N?" his voice sounds so rough and crackly.

"Hi," you let out in a cry.

He reaches your face with his hand, touching around, not seeing you well.

Toto feels dizzy and confused. "I wanted to make sure you were real this time," he closes his eyes for a second and exhales. "I v o," he murmurs.

"Sorry?" you ask.

"I love you," says louder. Toto thinks he sees your big smile. "Love of my life," he adds, staring at you.

"Hi, son," he hears his father's voice on the other side of his face.

"Dad?"

He feels his hand on his.

"Welcome back," his mom squeezes his arm and holds it tight.

"What?" he is so confused.

Before the accident starts coming back to him, he tries to pull himself up, but his head hurts a lot, no strength at all.

"Easy, easy," you rush to aid him when the nurses and doctor enter.

"How are those Bambi legs doing?" you ask in a brief imitation movement as you greet Toto, to his amusement.

"Look at these tighs, stronger than ever," he jokes back.

"Strong enough to choke out John Cena?" your dad asks him, joining the fun and giving him a friendly shake.

"How are you, sweetie pie?" your mom greets him.

"Feeling better, the headaches are getting less intense."

His parents watch you interact, still not mingling, but not as judgy as once they were.

His recovery therapy has been a long journey. Most of his damage showed up in his physical motor skills, so there were lots of sessions on walking, coordination, and more.

You have been by his side every second of it.

During his remaining and final weeks at the hospital, his parents see Toto behave as they had never seen him before. He looks so happy, full of life, and in love.

They also notice how well you take care of him and his recovery.

The soft touches you two share and the looks you exchange show undeniable affection and love.

When he finally leaves the hospital, he holds a small dinner to celebrate and thank you for all your support.

It's your first time visiting his apartment. He never lived with Obi, and it turns out that guy is even richer than him.

It's a penthouse luxurious as fuck.

There is a lot of food and drinks, and everyone looks so happy, everyone but you.

You know that tonight is the night you say goodbye to him. His parents give you a hint that this is the moment for you to stay true to your word.

So, after everyone leaves, Toto approaches you on the balcony.

"It's a sick view!" you softly say, feeling the sea's breeze on your face as you admire the panorama.

"I kind of miss Ms. Telbot's awful curtains," he says, referring to the neighbor across the street from your parent's place.

"Oh! She got new ones! They are even worse!"

You two share a laugh.

"Could you give me a second chance? I promise you I won't disappoint you." Toto asks you. He looks at you in a way that makes you want to throw yourself into his arms and for him to take you straight to his bed, but you can't.

"I'm sorry. It's best this way," you barely whisper.

"I know I hurt you a lot, and I screwed things up, but please, allow me to fix it." he looks hopeless.

"It's not that. I now get the full picture and understand why you made those choices. You belong with someone who suits you and your life better. It's going to make everything easier for you. I respected your choice, and I hope you respect mine," you say with conviction while trying to hold back your tears and eat your feelings.

"Why this feels like a goodbye?" he asks, choking up.

"Because it is. You are the best thing that ever happened in my life, too, and I'm so happy we made it through that and that you are still here. You deserve an amazing life; we both do, but we are not made for each other."

As the Wolff family jet leaves Monaco the following day, Toto looks out the window while crying in silence, tears flowing down his face.

His parents exchange looks, feeling the guilt.

A week later, as Toto finishes the recovery exercises he still needs to do, his dad checks on him; Toto has looked like a complete mess since they arrived.

"Emma wants to see you. She is being insistent. It could also be good for you, some company and warmth."

"Who?" he looks confused for a second. "Oh, yeah, the Rothschilds girl, yeah, dad, I'm, my head is hurting a lot today, maybe tomorrow."

His dad nods before leaving, knowing it wasn't a time to push him.

A month passes, and Toto hears a couple of knocks on his childhood room's enormous, regal wood door, where he is staying for the moment, as he finishes fixing his tie.

They were expecting the Rothschilds over for a "special dinner."

"This ring belonged to your grandma, then to my mother, then to me, and now it belongs to you," his mom says, giving him the vintage red velvet box.

Toto looks at it, leaving a big sigh to escape his lips, and unenthusiasticly nods. He seems beyond resigned.

As they wait for their guests to arrive at the Wolff state, sitting on the elegantly set garden table, Toto looks miserable. He is there, but he indeed isn't.

"You are feeling this way because of Y/N?" his mom asks him, not being able to see his son suffering a minute more.

Toto's eyes go up at the mention of your name. "It doesn't matter anymore anyway."

"Why?" his father asks.

"She didn't have me back. She wants me out of her life."

"That's not true," his mom adds.

"Excuse me, but how could you know that?"

"We may have made a mistake," she confesses, looking sad and guilty.

"What do you mean?"

"We judge her poorly. Her family is something peculiar, the father..." she puts a face. "But the love she feels for you is undeniable. You know she never left your side at the hospital? Not even a second."

"She lived in there. She even lost her job," Toto's dad explains.

"WHAT?!" Toto looks now concerned. That was your only source of income! "Wait, what did you do?!" now he looks mad.

"We did what we thought was best for our son, but it wasn't."

"What did you do?!" he sounds so severe right now.

"We... found a grey area... in the caretaker clause, so we thought it was best for us to transfer you to a hospital here in Austria, where we could look after you."

"Away from her." Toto sounds judgy, eyes piercing them.

"Yes, so, she, we, made a deal," his mom continues explaining. "She would stay out of your life after it if we let you stay there until she saw you leave the hospital fully recovered."

"That's why those words didn't sound like hers that night. How could you do that to me, to us?!" he sounds resentful.

"Because we didn't know Y/N and had no idea how strong that bond between you truly was. Her love for you is indisputable." His dad tells him.

"She never cracked under our pressure; she fought hard and fair and did an amazing job caring for you." He continues. "It's our fault, and we are deeply sorry."

For Toto's dad to apologize and for his mom to look this ashamed it was something so significant and never seen.

"So now what?! Emma and her parents will be here any minute." Toto says.

"Only if you had a jet waiting for you to leave for Monaco," his dad expresses, winking an eye.

"Only if you had a ring to offer to Y/N," his mom tells Toto, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head.

You arrive at the gallery, finally back at your job, and glad your boss hired you again! You are so excited to paint in the workshop.

You finish pushing the door, which is already slightly open. Someone must have arrived early, too, but the place is empty, to your surprise.

You don't think much of it. You go straight to the easel with your name on it, pull out all your brushes and materials from your bag, and remove the dust white sheet on top of the empty canvas.

You look perplexed as you read the freshly brush-painted letters on it: "Will you marry me?"

"I found the truth," Toto's voice makes you jump slightly.

You turn around to watch him smile big at you with adoring sparkling eyes before you answer his question.

"Yes"

- More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

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yesihaveaobsession · 13 hours

Text

Cling To Her Like You Mean It

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Alastor gets wasted and your left to handle him, except his clingy ass heckkk.

A/N- I hope y'all like it! This is kind of a head canon I do believe that if he gets black out drunk/ completely wasted he does become HELLA clingy.

(CREDIT TO: MR SMILES AKA @@ZombieRetroTea ON X)

You had never seen Alastor drink anything but his expensive signature whiskey, so when he started chugging down that mysterious glowing brew from Angel, you knew things were about to get interesting. You watched from across the bar, a mix of curiosity and concern bubbling in your chest. The Radio Demon was always so composed and controlled, but tonight? Tonight was different.

Within minutes, Alastor's usual charismatic demeanor began to waver. His smile was still there, but it was softer and less menacing. And his eyes—his eyes told you everything. His eyes were usually always sharp and calculating, but at the moment they were almost dreamy. You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw him stumbling slightly, catching himself on the bar. That's when you decided to intervene, placing your hand on his back to signal you were right behind him.

"Hey, Alastor," you shouted over the music, your eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe it's time you cut back a little, huh?" His reaction was quick, surprisingly. He turned towards you, and to your surprise, his eyes lit up even more when he saw you.

"Darling!" he exclaimed, his voice warm and affectionate with a hint of slur and his transatlantic accent. Alastor then proceeded to practically lunge at you, causing you to flinch, but he didn't notice nor care. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. "You're here! I was just thinking about you!"

You laughed nervously and tried to support his weight as he leaned heavily on you. "I'm always here, Alastor. Maybe we should get you to a seat," you struggled. That's when he added more weight by nuzzling his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"No, no, no," the demon murmured, his tone almost childlike. "I want to stay right here with you. You're so... so wonderful, did you know that?" You weren't expecting him to be so clingy, but again, once you're wasted, you become vulnerable, which meant you were going to be babysitting him probably for the rest of the night. You blushed at his words. He was always kind to you, and you appreciated it because, well, he could kill you in the blink of an eye if he wanted to, but this—this was a whole new level. He was practically, if not outright, flirting with you.

Your heart began to race. "Uh—thank you, Alastor... But let's sit you down, yeah?" You pressed on again, and reluctantly, he allowed you to guide him to a nearby booth. As soon as you sat down, he scooted as close to you as possible, his long legs practically in your lap, draping an arm around your shoulder and resting his head on your shoulder.

"You know, I don't tell you this enough," he slurred. "But you're my favorite person in this whole wretched place."

"Thanks, Al, that means a lot." You looked around the bar. You had picked the booth in the far back corner so you could keep an eye on your surroundings. Somehow, Alastor took that as an invitation, chuckling and then nuzzling his face into your neck again, nipping playfully at your skin. His ears were practically brushing against your face. "You smell so nice, my dear," he mumbled, his voice almost hypnotically low. "Like roses."

"Let's get you back to the hotel, yeah?" His body seemed to melt against yours.

"Mm... yes, I think that's a good idea. But only if you come with me."

"You can barely walk; of course, I'm coming with you." You looked around the bar and found Charlie and Vaggie sitting next to each other, watching Nifty run around with cockroaches. You flagged them down, and they headed towards you. To their surprise, Alastor was nuzzling into your neck, and you couldn't move even if you wanted to because he had put all of his weight on you, so you were just tensed up.

"I'm going to bring Mister Happy back to the hotel and lay him on my bed. Could one of you help me?"

Charlie nodded, and you each took one of his arms and draped it around your shoulders. The Radio Demon's eyes were still dreamy, and he had a closed-lipped smile as he let out a hum. That's when his head leaned closer to you, looked you up and down, and said, "Well, aren't you a pretty one?" You tried not to blush as you and Charlie struggled down the streets of Pride Ring, trying to complete the mission of Alastor's safety.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin alastor #i have an obsession

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sluttycinderella · 2 days

Text

Razorgate: an empirical, peer reviewed study*

*there is nothing genuinely scientific about this, it is merely a result of mental illness and unemployment.

So we all saw this right?

But after this bomb was dropped I began to get curious about the other slittenings. Did they use the same razor for all of them and no one had noticed? Do they actually own more than one razor? And if they don't, if this is truly the only phrazor, then I don't think I have to tell you that raises a lot of questions.

Firstly, I went back to where this all began, Phil's Birthday stream, to identify the razor that carved the very first slit and forever cemented itself as a part of herstory:

Now that is very clearly the Manscaped logo, no question about it. Here’s a high quality photo of the logo for comparison:

(You can also clearly see in the Twitter post that it says "Manscaped" across it but I like to double check my work and I also wanted to prove that they were both Manscaped)

And it's a good thing I did double check because OP made a CRITICAL ERROR in their post! They claim that the razor in question is the Lawn Mower 4.0 when in fact it's the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra! Unlike the PUNY, PATHETIC, UNMANLY 4.0, the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra comes with an interchangeable foil blade, a USB port, and a more advanced spotlight!

How could OP be so careless? Dan and Phil would never own an outdated razor! They require only the finest in ball shaving technology!

Also fun fact: The first appearance of the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra on the Manscaped YouTube channel falls right in between the dapg return announcement and their first video back so make of that what you will...I for one shall be sculpting my own hill out of the very earth itself, "Manscaped Sponsorship Hill", I encourage you all to join me.

So after spending far too long researching the intricacies of razors that shave an organ I don't even have, I now needed to check if it was the same razor being used in every slittening:

Here they are side by side for comparison, left is Phil’s birthday, middle is the We're All Doomed post-premiere, right is Dan’s birthday. Now it appears the WAD one is missing the logo but I'm going to go ahead and chalk that up to the poor quality of the clip I found (if anyone has a better version PLEASE hit me up so I can confirm my hypothesis). And considering the photo taken in the aftermath seems to show Phil holding the 5.0 Ultra:

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's the same thing.

“But,” I hear you shouting, “so what if Dan and Phil used the same razor for all the streams? They already said they only owned one razor so who cares?” Well this isn’t so much about proving that they’re the same razor as it is establishing a baseline. It’s hard to trust basically anything Dan and Phil say lately, what with piggate and the “pillow” bar and the fake view from the Phouse, knowing that they aren’t lying about only having one razor (to the best of our knowledge) is crucial in figuring out what exactly is going on. Remember, we’re doing science here.

And with that in mind: In my professional opinion, I can say that for all three slittenings, the Manscaped Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra was the weapon of choice.

Sidenote: I went down a bit of a rabbit hole of Manscaped reviews during all of this and apparently Manscaped razors are kind of just a scam. This razor is $109 and they try to trick their customers into subscribing to their "Peak Hygiene Plan" which you don't actually need by offering a deceptive discount and hiding the terms where people aren't likely to see them. So yeah, fuck Manscaped and I for one think we should cancel Dan and Phil for not ethically consuming under capitalism.

But that's beside the point, we know that they indeed only have one razor and that that razor...is for balls. What does that tell us?

Conclusions

There are a multitude of conclusions one could jump to in the light of such a revelation, I shall display them in a convenient numbered list for your viewing pleasure:

One of them prefers to use straight (lol) razors to shave their...you know...I don't actually know if this is a thing people do or if it's even possible, people with balls please sound off in the comments, thank you

Only one of them actually shaves in which case I support them as an infamous pussy hair enthusiast (iykyk)

They share a razor (Please, God, no, that's actually disgusting)

Either way, this thing was on someone's balls and then it touched both their faces so I really hope they cleaned it properly!

Alright, so that whole exploration may have been a bit useless, it indeed only confirmed what we had already been told, but I spent literal hours comparing photos of ball hair trimmers and I'm not one to admit defeat. Consider yourselves peer reviewed, Dan and Phil, and maybe check out Beardscape instead! Apparently they have better, more comprehensive razors for the same price.

If anyone even more demon than me has any corroborating evidence (maybe of them using straight razors at any point or anything else razor related that they've said in the past) please let me know so I can take it into consideration! Thank you all for your time.

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 2 days

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you take request for Astarion and co.? The reader gets an aura migraine (worst kind of migraine in my opinion). But because of her/their past being a mercenary/hunter/warrior (whichever one), the reader doesn’t tell or even realize it until it’s too late. Just some angst and then love and care from Astarion.

I love your writing! So please take all the time you need to write this if you want to.

HIHI I'M SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR SO LONG!!!!!!! I've been very tired as of late from all the schoolwork and I swear it's almost like I don't have any down time. Writing through this slog has been difficult as well and I don't like forcing/rushing things. Still, I managed to finish this, hope you like it!

Summary: You collapse right in front of Astarion due to a particularly bad aura migraine episode. Panic and emotional constipation ensues

Your head is splitting. Again.

Inhaling sharply, you let out a slow breath, willing the pain away so that you can focus on the task at hand. Black spots creep in on the edges of your vision but you blink them away, you can’t falter now. You swing your blade, slicing through another of Orin’s assassins before ducking as a dagger stabs the spot your head was at just moments ago.

Even with spotty vision, your battle instincts are enough to help you survive the fight, but you don’t emerge from the fight unscathed. One of the assassins manages to sneak up on you and gets a hit in, tearing open your shoulder.

“Y/N!”

You hiss in pain, whirling around to cleave the assassin in half with your blade. Your injured arm shakes from the exertion, fresh blood streaming from the wound with each motion. The throbbing pain doesn’t help your migraine in the slightest and you nearly keel over.

“My dear, you look terrible.” Astarion catches you just before you hit the floor, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” You grab onto him to steady yourself, blinking as your vision begins to swim and push yourself upright, flashing him a grin. “See? Perfectly fine!”

And then the world spins before fading to black.

Bright light fills your vision as you open your eyes, causing you to throw your arm up to block out the light, only for white hot pain to shoot through said arm.

Right. You had injured your arm.

Groaning, you rub your eyes with the other arm and tenderly push yourself upright, letting out a croaky yelp when your injured arm buckles beneath you. Closing your eyes, you breathe out slowly, releasing your annoyance at the current situation.

“How are you feeling?” A familiar deep voice sounds.

“Fine.” Your reply comes out harsher than you intended and you internally cringe when Halsin noticeably pauses, taken aback by your tone.

“Sorry,” you mutter quickly. “How long was I out for?”

“Sufficiently long to make everyone worry.” He hands you a flask of water. “Drink up.”

You down the flask almost immediately, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat and let out a contented sigh. The throbbing in your head has dulled to a quiet hum, but it will remain for a few more days, if past experience is anything to go by.

"Thank you." You hand the now empty flask back to Halsin.

"If you're feeling well enough, you should go and talk to the others. Some of them were particularly worried when you fainted on them." Halsin gives you a sly smirk. "Especially a certain vampire."

You raise an eyebrow and Halsin laughs, "he was the most worried. I had to chase him out of the tent just so I could tend to you."

"He was that worried," you murmur to yourself, frowning slightly. You hadn't meant to do that, well not like you had meant to faint in the first place but knowing just how much of an impact your little 'accident' had on Astarion made you feel bad.

"Watch yourself out there, you were lucky you only collapsed after all the enemies were defeated," Halsin chides as he rebandages your wound and hands you a healing potion. "Try to tell someone when you're not feeling well, alright?"

You laugh, waving him off, "I'll try, no promises though."

The moment you exit the room, the others rush over to check up on you, save for a pale elf who sends a scowl your way before disappearing into his own room, his door left ajar. You reassure the others, quickly making your way past the conversations and slip away with Halsin's help, ducking into a familiar room.

"Hey." You attempt to make conversation but a scowl remains firmly on his face, his gaze buried in the book he's holding. Sighing, you make your way to the bed and nestle into the remaining space, feeling his cooling skin press against your burning one.

"I'm sorry for making you worry."

"You're sorry? That's it? You're not going to explain why I suddenly had your unconscious body in my arms, why you had the audacity to tell me you were 'perfectly fine' before collapsing, why you —" He stops to take a breath he doesn't need, feeling every emotion rush to the surface and tears prick the corners of his eyes. He's mad, mad at you for not telling him anything, mad at himself for not noticing earlier, mad at himself for not being able to express his concern in a normal manner.

"Star…"

"You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be ok! Sorry fixes nothing!" He yells, wanting nothing more than for you to yell back at him so that he can release the emotions he doesn't know how to deal with in the only way he knows how but you remain quiet, head hung low, and that frustrates him even more.

"You're right. Sorry fixes nothing. I…" You let out a deep sigh, lifting your gaze to meet his. You can see the tear streaks that have formed, the fear in his eyes, the anxiety and it steals your breath away.

"Halsin wasn't kidding. You really are extremely worried for me." You can't help but give a small chuckle despite it all, a quiet smile making its way onto your face.

"Of course I'm worried!" Astarion snaps.

"Thank you for being worried." You slip your hand into his. "No one's ever been this worried about me before."

"Have you fainted in someone's arms before?" He huffs, annoyed, but he has simmered down.

"Well…not quite. I always went on quests alone, fought alone, but the times I wasn't alone…let's just say things didn't go so well for me." You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. "You all…you…are the first people I don't mind calling friends."

He clicks his tongue and looks away, but you can see the red on the tips of his ears. Your own cheeks are burning from the confession, your heart thundering like never before and you want nothing more than to bury your face into your knees.

"Why aren't you angry at me?" He mumbles after a while, still refusing to meet your gaze.

"Is there a reason I should be?" You murmur, running your thumb along his skin. His grip on you tightens and he bites his lip, shifting anxiously.

"There are many." The words leave his lips in a whisper and he wishes he could take them back when he sees the way your face falls.

"I can't think of any. I can, however, think of reasons for you to be angry at me." You shake your head. "I should have told you about my migraines earlier instead of having you find out like that, I should have done more than a simple 'sorry', I should have thought about you instead of just keeping to myself."

"You were just doing what you knew was safe. I'm no better."

"But you chose to open up to me. You spilled your deepest darkest secrets and yet I kept mine from you because I didn't want to look weak. I should have returned the favour, but I didn't." All your regrets come spilling forth, its flow stemmed only by the feeling of soft lips against your own.

He kisses you gently at first, and then it deepens, becoming more urgent as he conveys his feelings to you the only way he knows how.

"You're strong. You're the strongest person I know. You've been through so much, and yet you refuse to let any of it stop you. You've been dealing with your migraine by yourself for so long, putting up with the pain by yourself, nothing about that is weak in the slightest." He presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into his embrace. "Let me share in your burden as you share in mine."

"It's only fair, I suppose." Your lips curve into a grin. Letting out a quiet breath, you entangle your fingers in his curls, feeling him lean into the touch. "Promise?"

"Promise," he murmurs back, soaking in the moment. There's only you and him, bodies pressed against each other, embracing like it's the last time you'll ever see each other, washing away the throbbing in your head and the ache in his heart.

He closes his eyes, relishing in the warmth of your body tightly pressed against him, breathing in your scent that speaks of love, comfort, safety, feeling the rhythmic strokes of your fingers through his hair, and wants for nothing else. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he smiles, genuinely, and saves this moment in his memory.

"Get well soon, my love."

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion

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bonefall · 3 days

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Not sure if this is the place to ask or if I should go to Bonebabble, but ooh, Dungeon Meshi mention! I love what you said about low-empathy and apathy, I think I’ll use that in ny own characters.

I wanted to ask why you think Shuro is autistic. I’ve seen a lot of people say it so there must be a reason why, but I don’t think it’s really obvious to me? Like with Laios, autism/neurodivergence is so integral to his story, so it’s deeply obvious. I love the way he’s written! But we don’t see a lot of Shuro, so I’d like to hear more of why people see the tism in him.

@bonebabbles is the better place to send these in the future but it's chill! The vibe right now's loose since we're all coming down from the heaviness of Mooncourse lmao

Honestly, I feel a little 'tism in a lot of the cast of Dungeon Meshi. As a very autistic writer myself, it kind of has a vibe like it was written by someone who's autistic and so it gets peppered into all of her characters. It's something I notice a lot in my own art, too.

But like, when it comes to Toshiro... I can't stop thinking about him. He makes me want to chew the furniture. With every passing day I become less normal about him.

glossary because I had a lot of thoughts about Toshiro Dungeon Meshi i guess. Oh my god this got long

He reminds me of some people I know

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

THE LAIOS FIGHT

in conclusion

He reminds me of some people I know

He reminds me of certain autistic men I've met from affluent families. The type who both is taught to repress and mask their own traits, yet also not to be incredibly mindful of the emotions of other people. Because of their status, they don't have to learn how to work out interpersonal conflict because the majority of the people around them are servants or family. People who would never go away if they didn't like you.

So, his vassals have to learn to talk to him and how to carry out his orders. Not the other way around. As a result, Toshiro has a bit of unearned confidence about his leadership abilities and communication skills. NOT in a way that is smug, DO NOT misunderstand me; just in a way that overestimates his own judgement. Maybe he has encyclopedic knowledge for talking to other nobles offscreen, but when it came to his own team, he was ignoring a lot of the good advice they gave him about taking breaks.

Yes, Toshiro is from a high-context culture-- but his communication issues are bad with everyone.

ESPECIALLY his vassals, people he calls family, from the same exact culture as him. They're worried about him, most of them are desperate for acknowledgement, they'd do anything for him, and he doesn't address this until AFTER his brawl with Laios!

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

Toshiro knew he was going somewhere that was going to be a melting pot of mostly western cultures. He knew the manners were going to be different, and he came alone, not in a group where he was only interacting with his own people.

Yet he NEVER adjusted his own social behavior.

I'm American and my partner is British. When I first went, I had no idea why they were offering me so much tea. I thought I was being polite by following them into the kitchen, thinking they wanted to move the conversation over there. My partner quickly fixed this by explaining that when someone offers you tea, they're taking a short pause in the lull of a conversation to be a good host.

I am autistic. What someone else might have just figured out through getting an awkward look, I had to be told directly. There are a lot of little things like that.

Toshiro feels like what would happen if the opposite was happening, an autistic person from a high-context culture coming to a low-context culture. He can't properly express discomfort. It's not JUST Laios, King of Autism, that he's having issues talking to. Neither Marcille nor Chilchuck know that "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, and they had no clue that he disliked Laios THIS much.

I even think it's kinda telling that Toshiro felt the most comfortable with Falin out of the rest of the party. The hyper-empathetic autistic girl who goes out of her way to accommodate others.

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

A strict, uncompromising moral compass is a hallmark of autism. It's everything Toshiro does!!

When Falin was eaten, he bolted off to assemble the best team he could think of. He believes that love is sacrifice, so he pushes his body and his family to the limit to try and prove how much he loves Falin. Chilchuck freaks out when he finds out that Laios told him about the dark magic, because "HE'S THE WORST PERSON TO TELL!"

LIKE, YEAH! HE SURE IS!

Maizuru also explains that from a very young age, he's been incredibly compliant. He never asks for anything, he's always been a bit sickly and uninterested in eating. He always tries to be on his very best behavior, even if that means not asking for accommodations he might actually need.

In fact, the only food he seems to LIKE eating is what Maizuru makes him. To the point where she ended up getting pulled into the kitchen even when she was on a "mission." Senshi makes a cute comment that it's "love" that Maizuru puts into those meals, but... what if it's actually because she knows the textures and flavors he likes?

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

There's so many little moments that are so incredibly autistic to me.

He sees Falin with a bug and he proposes right on the spot. The other characters are like, "oh that's just how they act in the east" but no the fuck it is not. They don't even know "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, how the hell do they know anything about eastern courting traditions?

I know EXACTLY what happened. I'm beaming you this information directly from the truth.

Toshiro was TOLD that you're supposed to 1. make your proposals a surprise, and 2. you will know the right one when you see them, and NO ONE elaborated any further because he comes from a high context culture. He popped that question the first time both of those boxes were ticked off.

In coming from a high context culture, what he does is strictly follow rules and conditions he was taught.

And that's absolutely why he handed Laios that bell. Because he does care about him and the party, and he's taught that doing these acts of service is a show of that... and he didn't even think ahead to the fact the bell was going to be ringing constantly.

And yet. In spite of that, he ALWAYS keeps it near him.

Before it clicked and I realized why, I used to think Toshiro was kind of an asshole for running off to get his vassals without even telling Marcille and Laios about his plan. Like... how could you not know they were going to do something drastic? The three of them were the Falin Fan Club and he was the most normal member of it. It's so obvious to me that Laios (brother) and Marcille (""Gal Pal"") were going to get themselves in danger.

So how could you just run off like that without telling them? Even if lack of supplies meant they couldn't go back in, how could you just leave them worried sick in the town, thinking you abandoned Falin?

And then it hit me. The man just has low empathy.

There WAS no malice, just like how there wasn't malice in how he was pushing him and his vassals to the limits, just like how there was never malice against Laios. It simply didn't occur to him like that.

He's never been taught to consider the thoughts and feelings of others very deeply and they don't come naturally. He's still compassionate. There's a reason all of his vassals love him!

But THAT'S WHY he never put himself in Laios' shoes, or anyone else's. Empathy does not come naturally to him. All of his good behavior is as a result of his moral code, NOT empathy.

So with that said, why does he love Falin so much? Aside from the wonderful, positive traits he lists when he's asked? I mean, what's really deep down at the core of why he finds these things so lovely?

Well... Falin and Laios are not all that different from each other, to the point where Toshiro gets gently ribbed in a bonus chapter about how if one of them was a girl, Shuro might have loved Laios instead. He waxes poetic about the ways she's different from most women, how she's not afraid of things like insects, her compassion, her face, her laugh.

These are all things Laios does too (in fact in one of the panels where Toshiro is appreciating Falin, she's trying to check if a caterpillar is a male or female), but Falin's personality expresses in a more subdued and introverted way. Closer to how Toshiro is, as a person. So... I think it's because he relates to her.

To both Touden siblings. But Laios makes him see things he doesn't want to.

THE LAIOS FIGHT

We established that Toshiro has a strict commitment to his values, he probably has low empathy, and even taking his cultural differences into account he's bad at communicating.

So then, why was one of his complaints against Laios' obliviousness that he "knows he doesn't mean anything by it, and that makes it worse"? Isn't that kinda specific when you think about it?

If you're neurodivergent, I want you to think back to points in time where you dealt with people who have the same issues you do. Autism, ADHD, PTSD, DID, whatever. Did you ever have a moment where they did something harmless or mildly inconvenient, definitely as a result of the same exact thing you have, and you just... HATED it?

You HATED it even more than you would anyone else doing the same thing. You probably know your response was disproportionate. But YOU don't do that THING they did. Or if you do that, it's less bad somehow. Or you used to do that but don't anymore and it reminds you of when you did.

If you're reflective, you might have realized it might be internalized ableism. I feel like that's a huge part of why Toshiro finds Laios SO. ANNOYING. Laios is like this stupid, idiot, blundering caricature of things Toshiro has been taught to avoid, which violate his moral code. Shuro comes from a place of so many more rules and subtle cues, and it's like Laios doesn't respect any of them.

What STARTS this fight, causes Laios to finally hit back after being smacked, shoved, and shouted at, is being told "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY."

It's so obviously wrong! Laios, who ran back into a dungeon immediately? Who Toshiro himself called rash? This is NOT a logical conclusion to make about Laios or his party. I think it came from frustration that Laios "does things the wrong way." That it's projection, stemming from that low empathy.

He's not like Kabru in the same chapter, who's desperately trying to get a read on Laios' inner workings and failing. Shuro's just extrapolating his own feelings onto him, because he's recognizing that same "sense" within him. If TOSHIRO didn't follow the rules he sets down for himself, that's not "taking it seriously."

Toshiro follows the rules. Laios does not.

...and Laios is FREE.

He's open and honest in a way Toshiro can never be, not as a noble, not as an easterner, and not as an autistic man. Hell, Laios was ALSO a noble, he gave that up! Threw that away, and then came back to his village and took Falin away from it. If Laios is acting like an idiot, he's acting like an idiot who does everything Toshiro has ever wanted to do. Laios cannot mask and Toshiro resents that.

One of the things Toshiro even explicitly says he HATES about Laios is the fact he's willing to be a burden on other people. Maizuru said earlier that he's NEVER made a "selfish request" before-- but Laios can just open his mouth and ask for help, feeling no shame, just as he did in this chapter when he asked him not to tell the Island Lord about the dark magic.

And then, after they literally come to blows, Toshiro tells Laios some incredibly brutal things, revealing he's NEVER been his friend and he has resented him this whole time. This actually sits with Laios well into the later chapters, but the fight ends and then they're just CHATTING FRIENDLY LIKE IT DIDN'T MATTER.

More honestly than ever before, because Toshiro is returning the effort. He eats some food (the narrative's metaphor for making connections). He thanks his vassals for the first time. He talks about how he wishes he'd told Falin about all the things he adored about her when he still had the chance.

I have to take the panels of his response right out of the manga actually because this little expression here is so subtle, but so meaningful.

(Read <- <- <- that way)

Look at the way that when Laios makes that genuine movement, assuring him with passion that he will be making sure Falin receives this message, Toshiro's gut response is annoyance. But then it softens and he pauses, like he's reconsidering what his response is going to be.

To admit that he envies "this side of Laios" is also admitting that the earlier fight was based on envy.

Laios was like this the WHOLE time. Making these grand speeches about his plans, what his party's been doing, how Toshiro needs to eat something and take a nap. He's ALWAYS been like this. It was Toshiro's mindset that changed.

In conclusion

Something I really like about Dungeon Meshi is HOW MANY of its characters can be read as autistic. Laios is just the most obvious one, with his special interest in monsters and inability to read social cues being central to the plot. His is a more "well known" expression of autism-- it's rare you get characters whose masking is central to their characters.

But it's really refreshing to see characters like Kabru, Falin, and Toshiro. Autistic people are rare enough in popular media to begin with, but we NEVER get characters whose autism intersects with their trauma, gender, and culture quite like these three.

#dungeon meshi #toshiro #shuro #shuro dungeon meshi #toshiro dungeon meshi #media analysis #autism

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bonny-kookoo · 3 days

Note

Can we maybe see Snowball Princess reacting to Jin coming back?

Warning for angst, idk why it got angsty

You've never been very good with time.

Even when you were younger, you've always struggled with telling how much time has or will pass. It never got better the older you got- and especially nowadays, you've kind of given up on trying to learn such a skill altogether.

You didn't have to.

Yoongi took care of you- most of the time. When he had to go to his own basic training, you had to stay alone with staff- and that period of time was enough to.. change you, as the producer and rapper notices quite quickly.

You've become.. calmer. Quieter.

In order not to unnerve any of the other members, Yoongi had kept that to himself however- not quite thinking that one trough, since Seokjin’s discharge was still so far away. To him, this change has become the norm by now. He doesn't notice it any longer.

But now, Jin is back. And of course- he wants to see you.

He can't help but smile as he enters his apartment- it's obvious that you've been occupying it occasionally, blankets and pillows and other little items he doesn't remember being there. It's nice to see that you took everyone's invitation and advice to seek out their homes whenever you'd miss any of them- but what he's now curious of, is where are you right now?

Jin worried this would happen at some point with him gone.

He's been one of the people to always manage things so that you'd never feel like a spectator, always trying to include you to make you feel like an important part even if you had to be away from them here and there. But with him gone, these habits must've been neglected- because he can't get a hold of you now.

Yoongi informs him that you're at his place- but that reassurance doesn't last long, because he notices that once he enters the producer's apartment, you're sleeping.

It's not at all your usual routine.

"She.. now that you mention it, she has been sleeping a lot more these days." Yoongi notes, most likely not having noticed this change much since he continued to be close to you the entire time the other members were gone.

But to Jin, who hadn't had that luxury of visiting you often due to both company restrictions and time, the change to him is..

more than drastic.

He wakes you up with a hand on your shoulder, and once you do spot him and realize that he's back, your tail instantly begins to wag. But you don't tackle him down like you would've done before his enlistment period- you instead hug him tightly, simply wanting to be held for the moment.

"You're still sleeping, basically." He teases, though he can't hide his slight concern over it. "Let's have breakfast tomorrow, yeah?" He asks, and you shake your head at that, continuing to cling to him. "Hey- I'll be back tomorrow morning, promise!" He says, but you stubbornly shake your head. "Well, I guess I'll steal her for the night?" He laughs into Yoongis direction, who simply nods and smiles.

And while Seokjin still worries about the change in you, and what that might mean, tonight, he finally sleeps at home, with you close.

Just how it's supposed to be.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #seokjin imagine #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts jin imagine #jin imagine

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vintagegeekculture · 2 days

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There are some books that are functionally boy’s adventure books, but are not advertised as such (Stuart Gibbs is a good example), but I absolutely know what you’re referring to. I have some experience in the public-facing library/bookselling field, so I have a guess at some of the reasons that boy's adventure books are currently out of fashion.

Shonen anime, and graphic novels trying to cash in on being similar to shonen anime, are currently considered to be the main replacement.

The dual successes of Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Captain Underpants are seen as the overall representation of “what boys want to read”. As with any success, middling-to-bad (or at least incredibly cynical) knockoffs are rife.

Right now, books aimed at boys who have poor experiences around masculinity, or little interest in it, are extremely popular. So any story that celebrates masculinity is going to be looked at as being somewhat dangerous.

If you’re not interested in toilet humor and are a masculine kind of guy, you’re going to be looking at slim pickings.

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

P.S. I'm a WWII guy, except for a few years when I was a Spanish-American War guy -- I thought that was the same as having a personality.

Here's my observation on the popularity of Captain Underpants and Dogman: it ties in to an absolutely well understood track for stages of development in boys.

Now, keep in mind that I am not an expert in childhood development or education, but in the past, the reading habits of boys went through three comic book reading stages that maps, roughly, onto their growing capacities as they get older:

Archie/Harvey Comics Stage. This is usually a boy's first comic book, friendly and humorous and childlike. In the past, every boy's first comic is usually Archie, Jughead, or Richie Rich, or Casper the Friendly Ghost, Peanuts, Garfield, or Wendy the Good Little Witch. They like surreal humor, and the absence of concrete thinking and unreality of these books is a positive, as it matches the non-concrete thought processes of young kids, which is why adults often have trouble relating to this: if you ever saw a kid's drawings from this stage, people just float or fly in space, their feet not on the ground, and the sun is often drawn with a face. Notice that kids absolutely accept as a given that Pete and Pete are two brothers with the same name, which is something adults have a problem grasping. If you ever asked yourself why Spongebob Squarepants lives in a pineapple under the sea, of all things, instead of accepting it as a given (of course he lives in a pineapple, what do you expect?), you're probably past this stage.

Superman/Batman Stage. After the Archie/Harvey stage, boys move on to Superman and/or Batman, as their imagination capacities develop, they start to envision adventure and science fiction/other worlds apart from just humorous surrealism. Because they start to experience stories vicariously as their imagination expands to include putting themselves into the story, they tend to start to want adventure and action at this point, power fantasies of muscles, freedom, swordfighting, karate and sweet jump kicks, swinging over a rickety bridge with a rope, and wrestling a monkey (this is also the age that in decades past, boys got obsessed with Tarzan, and in more recent times, got into Adventure Time, a show about two brothers with no parents). All this is mingled with fantasy and science fiction as the ability to think in terms of other worlds and places emerges, but they still prefer pro-wrestling like good and evil as clearly delineated, as their moral reasoning is not super well developed. There are female villainesses in stories at this level, and their master plan is often to get the hero laid, which is a sign of evil instead of good. The fact that Batman and Superman seem to always have all the answers and win cleanly is a plus at this stage, since stories are lived vicariously as opposed to handled and seen with distance. Some people don't move past this stage, and you can usually identify these people because as they identify closely with a main character's state and emotions, put a book down when things get bad for the main character, and often say things like "wow, why does this writer like killing off characters or making them suffer?"

X-Men Stage. After a phase of being into Superman and Batman, most kids move on to an X-Men phase, usually by 6th Grade, but it depends on the kid. They start to be aware of society and the individual, and with that, in the case of many, comes an awareness of being on the outside looking in, so themes of being an outsider, rebel, and alienation start to be important. This is the stage your kids start to turn into little jerks who mouth off to you, and the reason why is the same reason kids (usually) move on from Superman to X-Men: it's the era that kids start to develop moral reasoning, a muscle they flex and apply to every aspect of their life and play with like a new toy. They probably aren't able to articulate it this way, but they like the idea of conflict with society, rebellion (as they are conscious of an individual and society for the first time), and even the idea of moral dilemmas. Also, because boys are going through puberty at this point, they start to find girls interesting, which is why the X-Women like Rogue, Storm, Marvel Girl, and Psylocke were so much more alluring and appealing than Lois Lane and Betty and Veronica. They also start to be aware of status for the first time, a person's relationship in comparison to others, something younger kids are only barely cognizant of, which is why they like things being hardboiled and "cool."

You could, for more modern times, update this list of stages to the Spongebob Stage, Adventure Time Stage, and Jojo/One Piece Stage. In the 1950s, the trajectory would be Tom Swift and other "boy with a helicopter" stories, then boyish gee-whiz adventure writers like H.G. Wells and Jules Verne, and finally, big-idea, believable guys like Heinlein and Asimov by age 12-14. The exact content is not important, the developmental stages in boys are.

If you're a Star Trek fan as a kid, Captain Kirk is usually your favorite character early on (in the Superman/Batman stage), where you vicariously experience and enjoy his coolness and ace-status (as a kid, I thought Captain Kirk was cooler than all the comic book superheroes put together), and then it usually becomes Spock as you get older and start to relate to his alienation and the fact he is different from everyone else. Star Trek deserves some genius prize because it has the adventure, cool monsters, and moral framework to appeal to kids at the Superman stage, but then grows up with them with dilemmas and big ideas as they enter the X-Men stage.

I do believe the reason Harry Potter has such a fan following is the books grow up with you. Harry Potter started off whimsical and charming (Harvey/Archie Stage), then became about adventure and good versus evil (Superman/Batman Stage) then was about moody teenagers, where the heroes are outlaws on the run from the clueless government and pair off with each other in love stories (X-Men Stage).

There are bound to be problems when something aims at one stage but has fans of the other. Hulk Hogan and John Cena are often hated by a certain kind of wrestling fan because they are Batman/Superman heroes kids love because they experience their strength and indomitability vicariously, and only grow to prefer the X-Men-like "cool rebel" Rock and Stone Cold later on. You don't like John Cena, or Superman, because he's not for you.

Now, all that said, when you talk about how boys don't move past Dogman, the Archie/Harvey Comics is the stage of development you're talking about, that books like Captain Underpants, Diary of a Wimpy Kid, and Dogman operate at. And the reason they seem to be dominant is that boys stop reading after the Archie stage. In other words, in my opinion, you're confusing effect with cause: they have nothing for them except manga after this point as most boys stop reading entirely past the Archie/Harvey Comics stage.

Why? Your guess is as good as mine, it is simply the largest and underdiscussed social problem of our time, boys stop reading and often never read again. "Young Adult" essentially means girl's books now.

The reason why nobody is examining this issue is simple: men's rights advocates are not particularly concerned with helping boys, but more with bitterly whining about ex girlfriends and gripes with the family court system. So when a legitimate social issue happens that affects boys disproportionately (the fact boys stop reading entirely around age 9-10 and never read a book again in their lives) they have nothing to say and are not particularly interested in the issue.

As someone with a concern and interest in helping boys, I was initially very sympathetic to the Men's Rights idea that society leaves them behind, and it does happen more or less as they say it does: society lets them slip through the cracks, especially in the school system, where they are seen as a problem to be solved, especially when high spirited (normal). However, there was very little sympathy in that group for boys who were physically abused and beaten by parents. Most believe in corporeal punishment, as they care less about boys and more about the primacy of paternal authority - just as you'd expect from bitter, divorced dad, malicious pieces of shit. And boys being molested is often treated as a joke, and not with the seriousness and primacy the issue deserves.

Likewise, despite the talk of feminism helping men, women's rights are not especially concerned with helping boys either, because...well, why would they be? It also doesn't help that the leadership and vanguard (though not necessarily the rank and file or activist base) of women's rights movements are usually professional, striving educated women (a group with high rates of sociopathy and reduced empathy) so their focus is on access to elite institutions and professions. This is more especially obvious in the UK than in the US, where feminism is more explicitly linked to class, as one can see with JK Rowling. As a consequence of this, #MeToo was not about waitresses or gig workers who endure horrible harassment, but about access to elite institutions. There's a reason why when we picture sexual harassment, it's in business suits at a law firm, and not a diner waitress bothered by creeps or her manager.

I will say this: I am very heartened that #MeToo and activism and so on are now starting to include boys who were molested. Very few changes in our culture have been positive and that is one. There's a reason male survivors of sexual abuse and molestation keep their head down, were not included as a part of #MeToo initially, and that is starting to change. Self blame and guilt is a part of every abuse victim, but it is especially crushingly intense with boys too young to understand, and who are trained to endure and not ask for help from male friends.

#psychology #development

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ariesbilly · 2 days

Text

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker

the upside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit.

the downside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit. and also kind of a bitch.

it's billy's fault, really. he should've known better when dating a guy nicknamed king.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana, though, is that secrecy is a requirement, which billy doesn't have a problem with. the thought of publicly displaying his affections makes his skin crawl. he's got no problem doing it with the girls he pretends to be interested in because that's all it is - pretend.

but when he really means that shit... it's a harder pill to swallow.

and none of this really bodes well with steve harrington's style of dating. billy knows from his brief overlap of being in town while harrington and wheeler were still a happy item that the guy likes to be clingy, needs constant attention and validation of his affections and he wants to put it all on display for the world to see. and billy can't give that to him.

so he goes looking for it elsewhere.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana is the secrecy, but that rule doesn't extend to billy's sister or his best friend.

heather was never supportive of billy's taste in men. warned him plenty of times that steve was a dick and a leopard doesn't change its spots. but billy had waved of all concerns by saying they weren't even in a serious relationship and that heather didn't know steve like he did. heather and steve hated each other, of course she was gonna see the worst in him.

max was supportive. at first. until dustin started coming around with stories of steve and the new girls he was picking up, gloating about him like he was some golden god of women. and max would come fuming into billy's room asking if he knew about this shit, and billy would sigh and explain to her that it was just steve keeping up appearances to throw the scent off their trail.

"oh, is that why he had his tongue down tina's throat?" max accused.

and billy would have to pretend like he wasn't embarrassed. like he was in on the joke.

the thing with billy is that he doesn't let himself fall often, because when he does it's like a ten ton boulder down the side of a steep cliff. and shame isn't a color he wears well. he's gotten enough of that for a lifetime from neil, and since he's thankfully fucked off now, billy doesn't want to face it ever again.

which is maybe why he snaps at tommy's party.

he came here with steve, but now he's currently watching him dance with some chick with ten pounds of hair and double the makeup. laughing his preppy little ass off as she gyrates her dainty little lady parts all over him.

and yeah, billy can handle a bitchy attitude and some temper tantrums. and he can even wave off vague flirtations that he only hears about secondhand.

but this shit? right in front of his face? that's where he draws a line in the sand.

so he crumples the red plastic cup in his hand, not caring that beer spills out from the top, spotting the hagans' carpet, and throws it full force at the wall beside him, causing those nearby to jump, probably wondering what the hell set him off, if there's gonna be some grand billy hargrove performance.

but no. they'll just have to make due watching his ass walk out the door.

billy's sitting on the steps outside his house the next day, smoking a cigarette, when the beemer pulls up.

it's half expected, half not. billy braces himself for a fight anyway.

"you ditched me last night," is what steve says once he's up the sidewalk, a few feet in front of billy. he doesn't sound mad really. maybe a little offended.

billy sucks on his cigarette. blows out the smoke, his eyes never leaving steve. "got hit by a sudden wave of nausea," he says. "didn't wanna ralph in front of the party. didn't think you'd notice."

"why wouldn't i notice? we came together. i was looking all over for you."

billy shrugs, taking another pull of his smoke. "you seemed preoccupied."

it looks like steve's playing a tape in his head of the previous night, trying to pinpoint what exactly the fuck billy's talking about until it must finally click. "man, are you talking about that thing with cindy?" he laughs. like billy's fucking joshing him. "that was nothing!"

billy finishes his smoke, flicking it into the grass before standing up. "yeah, well, it something to me." he turns to walk up the steps, leaving this conversation - and steve - behind, but he's stopped with a hand on his arm.

"aw, billy, c'mon-"

"don't!" billy spins around, hands shoving steve square in the chest. watches his face go from jovial to nervous in two seconds flat.

good. the prick should be fucking nervous.

"you think you can walk around doing whatever the fuck you want like you own this town, but guess what? you don't! and you sure as shit don't own me!"

steve watches him with wide eyes, clearly out of his depth. this isn't the meeting he came here for. billy doesn't really give a shit. "billy, i-"

"i stood up for you, motherfucker," billy seethes, shoving steve again with two pointed fingers. "you know how many times heather's tried getting me to leave your ass alone? how many times max has threatened to castrate you because you can't keep it in your fucking pants?"

"i haven't slept with anyone else!"

"i don't care!" billy bellows. he's making a fucking scene. he hopes the neighbors aren't home. "i'm prime fucking real estate, baby! back in cali i had guys lining up the fucking block to get a piece of this! you think i just give this up to anybody?" steve opens his mouth, but billy cuts him off. "don't answer that! i defended you, asshole. and you make me look like a fucking idiot."

"i didn't think you cared..." steve says after a moment of stunned silence.

and that stuns billy. but he recovers quickly. "of course i fucking care. i wouldn't be doing this-" he gestures between the two of them, "-if i didn't."

"well you don't exactly express feelings very well." it's mostly teasing, billy thinks, but still that undercurrent of signature harrington bitch. "but-" he takes a step closer. "-if you're serious about this, then i am, too." another step.

"i swear to god if i have to sit through an 'i told you so' speech from maxine or heather because of some shit you pull-"

"is this your way of saying you love me?" steve grins, all cocksure and obnoxious, closing the distance until he and billy are standing toe to toe.

"don't press your luck," billy breathes in the space between them. "i'm serious, steve. i don't do thi- this is new for me, alright? and, i don't know if you've noticed, but i don't really handle rejection well."

"yeah, no shit," steve chuckles. "i'll be on my best behavior from now on. scout's honor." he holds up the three finger scout salute in mockery, but billy thinks, hopes, there's a sincerity in his eyes that he can hold him to.

billy rolls his eyes, mainly at himself for wanting to kiss the idiot right now. he almost does, too, until he remembers where they are and prying eyes could be watching.

he settles for another shove, this time to steve's shoulder, before turning back towards the house. "c'mon," he says, nodding his head towards the door. "nobody's home. you can give me a proper apology."

billy hears footsteps behind him before he even gets his whole sentence out.

#like i was gonna let that song go and not write a lil something pls be serious #harringrove #my writing #my general philosophy is that billy is an entire snack and steve should be grateful to even be in his presence okay

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dokries · 3 days

Text

cat’s out of the bag

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of food/drink (no alcohol), someone trips and falls (yes, in love but also literally), author doesn’t know how to describe games

author note: hehe thank you for the request again anon! i’m making this its own post because as you can tell, i wrote a lot more than i expected to….also yeah, i don’t know how to describe games, i’m sorry. (the game i mention is actually a real one if you’re interested!) my first time writing wonu, i hope you like him ♡

masterlist

“do you want a drink, wonwoo?” joshua waits until his friend looks over at him before continuing. “seokmin brought cola if you want some…?”

wonwoo shakes his head, pointing to the can of monster in front of him on the living room table—as soon as he saw the familiar packaging, he had grabbed it before anyone else could have even looked at it. joshua shrugs before giving you a pat on the shoulder as you sit down on the small couch, squished between wonwoo and chan.

there’s a big get together happening with all of his closest friends, and well…their other friends too. their group of thirteen is comprised mostly of extroverts after all, and one of them, namely seungkwan, is why you’re here in the first place.

wonwoo knows you from before though; you always make sure to wave at him when he talks to seungkwan and even started up a conversation with him the other day about his gaming setup, even if you aren’t necessarily that informed about those kinds of things. he appreciated your attention though, and slowly after that, he saw you everywhere. at little parties like this, in the library during the weekend, and even at his house, when mingyu had invited you over with seungkwan.

surprisingly, he doesn’t mind your questions, and you’re always respectful of his boundaries. in fact, you seem to read him well—you know when to not push further or sit in content silence with him.

you say hi to chan, pinching his cheek to get a smile out of him before turning your body to greet the other man beside you. “hey, wonwoo!”

he nods at you, taking a sip of his drink, hoping you don’t notice his robotic movements. he can’t help but be conscious when he’s right next to you, your elbow dangerously close to his right knee.

to be perfectly honest, he didn’t know exactly when he started acting like this around you; it isn’t like there was a big moment where he realized he liked you more than friends. however, once he became aware of it—he was staring at his ceiling, about to sleep one night—he couldn't help himself from being so…careful around you. the funny thing is that even though he’s like this, you always end up making him comfortable enough to forget it—it’s dangerous for him to be so at peace around you, should he let his impulses win and actually confess one day.

chan leans forward to see the both of you with a smirk on his face before putting an arm around your shoulder casually, and takes note of how wonwoo slightly adjusts his grip on his drink. chan calls your name smugly, his eyes watching the both of you (but especially wonwoo, so he can tell all the guys to tease his older friend later). “so…anything new?”

“oh, i—” you start to speak but wonwoo cuts you off with a sigh in chan’s direction. “come on, don’t they tell you anything? they went to the beach recently, and then walked along the trail for a good few hours, even though it was dark and they were by themself. i don't know if it was last week or the week before that, but they also got some new plants—though i’m pretty sure they were for their neighbours more than themself, right?” he finishes, looking at you for confirmation as chan gapes, eyes wider than they’ve ever been.

you have a similar expression on your face, and wonwoo clamps his mouth shut. “well, i’m screwed,” he mumbles under his breath.

chan scratches his cheek. “well, they don’t tell me that much, that’s for sure.”

he quickly excuses himself with a full blown grin on his face, and gets up to go visit the friend closest to the three of you—seokmin, who’s standing and talking to seungkwan, and another friend you don’t recognize. chan drags the two you know to the side, whispering something into their ears, and gasps emerge from their animated conversation that looks a little too much like old women gossiping.

you watch them for a moment before turning back to wonwoo—wait, is that a tinge of red he sees on your cheeks? you both stare at each other before you break the silence with an awkward laugh. “well…i uh.” you trail off, looking into the distance before you clear your throat and look straight at wonwoo with a small smile. “i didn’t realize you paid that much attention to my rambling.”

he shrugs nonchalantly (you can practically hear the hinges in his shoulder creak as he does; he is very chalant) before staring down at his shoes. “of course.” it’s you, after all, is what he adds in his head and he clears his throat, looking away.

you raise an eyebrow at his actions before changing the topic. “so anyway, about those plants…”

“wonwoo?” you call out, and he looks down at your concerned look. you laugh awkwardly before continuing. “i’m done tying my laces, so we should go catch up with the others.”

right, he stayed behind with you on the way to the ice cream shop because you needed to tie your shoelaces. you had grinned up at him, exclaiming, “safety first, am i right?”

he had shook his head in amusement before waiting on the side patiently.

he notices the way the dim light from the street lamps nearby hits you, colouring your skin golden. he thinks it suits you, with the way you continue to make him feel…warm. of course, he’s happy around his friends, even though he may not necessarily show it like some of them do; he isn’t clingy like hoshi, or sweet with his words like joshua. you make him feel slightly different though, and he’s not entirely sure what to do about it.

you seem to notice that he prefers to watch and stay quiet than join in on the antics of the group, and make sure to include him in your own little ways. he appreciates it more than he can tell you, and it’s probably the main reason as to how his affection for you built up gradually.

wonwoo crouches down to your level and touches your cheek gently, brushing a stray eyelash onto the tip of his finger. he smiles slightly, holding it in front of you so you can see it well before whispering your name. “make a wish.”

you grin, pausing to make a wish before blowing gently so that your eyelash goes off on a journey of its own in the wind. you get up quickly, lending a hand to wonwoo—he doesn’t need your help but…he still takes it. once he’s up, you drag him with you, walking quickly in the direction where the rest of the group went.

“i think seungkwan might order some weird flavour for us if we don’t hurry up, if i’m being honest.” you turn back to him with a sheepish expression before it turns affectionate. he knows that you have a soft spot for seungkwan, considering you’ve known him much longer than the others. wonwoo thinks you have one for him too, considering how much attention you pay to him specifically.

he nods solemnly—the urge to be more expressive around others so that they wouldn’t misunderstand him never seemed to apply when he was around you.

you smile, focusing on your feet as you walk before speaking hesitantly, your hand going to rub the nape of your neck naturally. “hey…do you remember that game you mentioned last week? the one with the cat wizard, i mean.”

puzzled, wonwoo looks at your face, thinking back to the time you’re talking about. right, he was talking about a game where you play as a cat and draw shapes to vanquish your enemies—he heard about one of his favourite esports players having that game, so he tried it out himself. wonwoo had brought it up randomly as the cuteness of the game reminded him of you. his explanation made it sound grander than it really was but you nodded along to everything he said.

“yeah, i remember talking about it. divineko, right?” he says, taking out his own phone to show you the signature animal on the app icon. when you nod, he gives you a content smile once his phone is securely in his hoodie pocket. “what about it?”

you bite your lip nervously before speaking. “so…i may have downloaded that game and oh my god, wonwoo.” you pause to look at him before squealing in pure joy, taking out your own device to show him your avatar—a special wizard skin on your black cat.

you look at him and then back to your phone screen, eyes widening with a realization. “dude, if this cat had glasses, it would literally be you!” you grin up at him before looking off to the side, muttering under your breath. “it’s definitely as cute as you, that’s for sure.”

“huh?” wonwoo blinks at you before shrugging, and the two of you start walking faster—after all, the rest of the guys are waiting for you.

he looks down at the street in front of the two of you, a warning on his lips as he frowns. “hey there’s a—” you cut him off with a yelp as you trip on an uneven part of the sidewalk and fall down, saving yourself from getting too injured by bracing yourself with your knees. “…weird section of the sidewalk in front of you.” dazed, wonwoo finishes his sentence before he gives you his hand to help you get up.

you take it and pull yourself up, brushing off any dirt that might’ve gotten on you. you look at him sheepishly again, and wonwoo laughs at you.

he looks forward again, and can’t help but blurt out, “wow, i like you so much, huh?” as if he has no self control.

you freeze, and so does wonwoo. did he really just say that?? he looks at you slowly through the corner of his eye, and sees you processing.

in fact, you are processing. he—HE WHAT NOW? your mouth drops open without your permission and he turns to face you, his focus solely on his shoes. wow, when was the last time he washed them?

wonwoo hesitates as he says your name, and you turn red at his gentle tone. “um, i. so cat’s out of the bag, huh?” he pauses to run a hand through his hair, moving his bangs to cover how red his ears have become.

he looks up at you, and smiles slightly as he confesses what’s been on his mind for a while now. “i…i like you a lot, actually. but not as friends.” he stumbles on his words as his arms move around quickly—he’s the most expressive you’ve ever seen him, and you find yourself even more endeared somehow.

wonwoo’s face falls slightly when you don’t respond right away. he wasn’t expecting you to say that you thought of him in the way—no, that’s a lie. he wants you to return his feelings so that he can shower you with all the love you deserve, even if he shows it quietly. besides, you’ve already shown that you get him; you’ll know what he means, even if it’s implied.

your giggling clears his thoughts away as he watches you grin with pure joy; it’s almost as if it isn’t midnight but midday for wonwoo as he looks at you.

“wonwoo…” you say before bursting into another fit of soft laughter, and he chuckles, already knowing your answer to his confession.

“actually, i feel the same way. i mean, i didn’t just approach you because i liked you—i want to be clear about that.” you pause to make sure he understands—he gives you a nod to continue—and you smile at him again. “i think i just…found out what a great person you are eventually.”

wonwoo nods again, biting back a grin before he frowns slightly. “wait. what do we tell the guys?”

you give him a sneaky smile before grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the ice cream shop you two were supposed to be at like…ten minutes ago. “we can tell them that we’re together now, can’t we?”

wonwoo uses his hand to cover his smile as he looks off to the side, his ears red. “yeah, i think i’d like that.”

#dokries works #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios

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futurepastme · 19 hours

Text

SecretConsort!merlin

I had this fic idea before falling asleep, I don't know if anything like this already exists (probably). Be warned that I didn't revise this once.

First of all Arthur and Merlin absolutely love each other, but they start off as friends with benefits. Until one day Arthur can't handle anymore

“Say you're mine. Say you'll be mine and no one else's”

“I'll be yours as long as you're also mine”

And yeah, they go exclusive after that (they already were but now was official) and give them a few months or years, but eventually Merlin becomes Arthur's secret consort and they are officially official, mother's sigil and all, because like I said, they Love each other.

Anyways, eventually Uther finds out they are together and he gets tomato-red furious, and only calms down when Arthur agrees to marry for political reasons, whomever Uther chooses for him.

The thing is, Uther kind of learns to like them as a couple, not that they go all out and about telling the world, because is still supposed to be a secret, but Uther sees the sweet glances and the smiles, and most of all he sees how willingly they are to die for each other and it just sits right with him. Uther thinks Merlin makes a good consort for his son and is in no hurry to marry him off anymore.

But of course, nothing really stays the same, and the day comes where the only way Uther finds to keep peace with another kingdom is to marry Arrhur off to some other king's daughter, and he hates it because he knows and he approves of his relationship with the skinny boy that makes his son so happy.

And then comes the heartbreaking scene of Arthur telling Merlin the news and the even more heartbreaking scene before Arthur's wedding day

“I won't be able to be only yours anymore”

“Maybe not, but I'll always be yours”

And they cry through the night holding each other tightly as if the world were to end, because it just might.

And the next day, Uther can freaking see it

They are both behaving, no one is causing a scene but from up close you can notice how bloodshot their eyes are. And he can see it in the way they refuse to make eye contact, he can see it as he sees Merlin silently crying as Arthur shows the crowd their future queen.

And Uther hates it.

And is not like the new princess is a horrible person but she just doesn't like Merlin, she doesn't want to share her husband. She makes Merlin leave Arthur's Chambers and forbids him to follow Arthur all day unnecessarily, but she knows she can't win.

Not when the King himself gives Merlin royal chambers on the same floor as theirs, and especially not when Arthur doesn't spend the night on his.

Arthur has duties, though. Husband duties. And he has to fulfill them and it kills Merlin.

And Uther can just watch helplessly as Merlin's gaze follows Arthur and his wife and he stays behind as the servant he is supposed to be and is so unfair because she doesn't even love Arthur

And they keep growing apart but keep fighting for each other because they are fucking made to be together so they still try even if the best they can do for days is hold each other for a few minutes just breathing each other in because that's home and that's where they are meant to be

It continues for a while until one day comes where Arthur goes out without Merlin

And at the same time while he is away, his wife finds herself with child, and everyone's so happy and Merlin just has to leave for a while because he can't handle it

But again, things never go as planned and the knights return with Arthur's body, because something went wrong

And you can honestly choose what it was, a curse, a spell, bandits, a boar, a mercenary, it doesn't matter because Arthur is dead now and Merlin wasn't there to save him

And now Uther has to deal not only with the death of his only son, and with his widow wife with child but he'll be the one to tell his consort and is so devastating

Merlin's face turns from sad to haunting and it's like the world ended and Uther can see himself in him, he can see the death of his love weighting on Merlin the way it weighed on him, if not worse

Arthur's body stays inside the castle for two days before the burial so the people of the castle can say their goodbyes and no one has seen Merlin, they are not even sure he went to see Arthur

And everyone is concerned about the poor widow all dressed in black, she is sad, sure, but the tears rolling from her eyes are just for show, Arthur was barely a friend, but he was good to her

Arthur's body is being prepared for removal, overseen by his family and close friends before the public ceremony took place, and that's when it happens

Merlin just barges in and stops everything.

He's spent two days working in it, and he just doesn't care anymore, as long as it works

And Uther once again just watches as this skinny boy fills the room with golden light, and he can't even care to do anything because honestly he would do everything for his love if he could

And everyone watches as the light coming from Merlin starts being absorbed by Arthur through his chest and is so beautiful to watch

Arthur starts to sit up as Merlin lowers down and they just have a moment, a small second where they are both there and Merlin just rests his head against Arthur's

“I would do it again. I would do it as many times as needed because I love you and you are my everything”

“Merlin?”

And then the light is gone, and so is Merlin

And Uther watched as his widowed son holds his lover's body, just like he did over twenty years ago

#bbc merlin #merthur #Angst I guess #fic ideas #Uther ships merthur #Did I just killed Merlin again?#Not my fault he is so killable #Now the question is would Arthur name his son after Merlin

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dudeitiskarev · 2 days

Text

Stolen glances

Blurb based on TG’s white eyelash, featuring gn reader, a clementine and soft Hotch. Kind of platonic but someone with a white eyelash definitely has feelings <33

It wasn’t unusual for you and Aaron to share accidental glances.

Every time it happened, you snapped your eyes away as if you’d gotten caught red-handed. Aaron knew it had to do with your authority issues (as you’ve mentioned many times).

Today, though, those issues must’ve been buried somewhere deep.

Aaron had caught you staring at him at least four times since the day started—the first time while debriefing the case, the second one on the elevator, the third one on the jet, the fourth time while he poured you some coffee—and neither of those times you tore your gaze away.

Your expressions only reflected curiosity and made him wonder.

By the fifth glance—while he peeled you a clementine as you’d asked him to—Hotch noticed you weren’t really looking at him, but something on him.

He cleared his throat and leaned against the table, gathering the courage to address the situation. “Do I… have something on my face?” He asked, handing you the perfectly peeled clementine.

You blinked slowly a few times, snapping your attention out of whatever was distracting you.

“Sir?”

“You’ve been staring at me,” he replied less hesitant

“Oh.” Your eyes widened, finally taking the fruit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Yet your eyes were trained somewhere on the left side of his face.

He rubbed his eye—scooped it out of the eye socket, almost—and checked his fingers for that thing you were looking at, but all he got was a single lash.

You laughed a little.

“What?” He frowned softly with a half-smile.

“I think you’re getting old.”

That was… an unexpected commentary.

“I’m sorry?”

“There’s a white eyelash.” You gestured at the eye you’ve been fixated on with your pinky while handing him half of the clementine.

His mouth hung open briefly before replying, “There is?” while raising his brows.

You merely nodded with an amused look.

Aaron tore his eyes away. A white eyelash hurt more than the first gray hair he caught through the mirror two years ago.

“Is that what you’ve been staring at this whole time?”

For some reason, he wished you’d answered something unrelated to the white eyelash, but you just nodded, bringing a piece of the fruit up to your mouth.

“Are you gonna keep staring at it?”

“Can’t help it,” you answered, mid-chew. “I’ve never noticed it before. I wonder if it’s always been th— has it always been there?”

“I wasn’t aware of it so, I don't think so.” He finally felt confident enough to eat some of his clementine, eating two pieces at a time.

“It’s the same length as all of your other lashes,” you added.

“I’m sure it is,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I hope you know it’s not a bad thing, sir. It’s just one more thing that makes you very special.”

He looked at you again and took the chance to search for a white eyelash on you—an excuse to look at you more than necessary.

“It’s very shiny too,” you added. Your attention was back on his white eyelash.

“That’s… good to know.”

You handed him another clementine for him to peel. “Please don’t ever pluck it.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

He’d take care of it like a treasure if it meant more moments like this.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fic

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alyrasturnz · 13 hours

Note

i know u probably have alot of requests rn but im in need of a fluffy chris x reader abt the song "jump then fall" by taylor swift

JUMP THEN FALL {{ chris sturniolo }}

summary — in a quaint little town, y/n and chris have been best friends since childhood. their bond has always been strong, but recently, y/n has started to notice the little things about chris that make her heart flutter. she loves the way he sounds in the morning when they talk on the phone, the way his laugh is the best sound she's ever heard, and how she can't keep her focus when he's around. this oneshot follows the sweet, tender moments leading up to their realization that they are meant to be together.

warnings :: mentions of burning food??

— purely fluff

as the shrill ringtone pierces the veil of your slumber, your eyes flutter open reluctantly, the remnants of dreams dissipating like mist in the morning light.

a groan escapes your lips, a sound of both frustration and resignation, as you bury your face into your palms, seeking a brief refuge from the unwelcome intrusion.

the world outside your cocoon of blankets feels distant and harsh, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort you had been enveloped in.

with a resigned sigh, you roll over, the motion slow and deliberate, as though moving through molasses.

you shift to lay on your stomach, the coolness of the sheets a fleeting comfort against your skin.

your hand gropes blindly for the phone on your side table, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the device before finally closing around it.

the screen’s glow is almost blinding in the early morning dimness, but you brace yourself, preparing to face whatever awaits on the other side of that persistent ringtone.

“chris??” you croak, your voice laden with the remnants of sleep, each syllable a struggle against the grogginess that clings to you.

your eyes, still heavy with the vestiges of dreams, squint against the harsh intrusion of light, which feels like needles piercing through the tender veil of your slumber.

the brightness assaults your senses, each ray a sharp reminder of the waking world you have been reluctantly pulled into.

"morning!" chris exclaimed with a cheerfulness that seemed to dance in the air, a stark contrast to the grogginess enveloping you.

the sizzle of something cooking reached your ears, a symphony of tiny pops and hisses that hinted at a breakfast being prepared with care and enthusiasm.

the sound mingled with chris's bright greeting, creating a tableau of domestic warmth and early morning routine.

"chris—what time is it?" you mutter, your voice a low murmur as you roll back, sinking into the embrace of your mattress.

the familiar contours of the bed offer a fleeting solace as you seek to anchor yourself in the waking world, the question hanging in the air like a fog of uncertainty.

"it's 8," chris replied, adjusting his phone so the camera captured the stove's bustling scene. "making some breakfast," he added with enthusiasm, his voice brimming with the kind of energy that seemed to spill over into the sizzling symphony of the kitchen.

"how are you this energetic at 8 in the morning?" you mutter, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. the incredulity in your voice mingles with amusement, a gentle acknowledgment of chris's boundless morning vigor.

"I don't know," chris chuckled in response. "honestly, I went to bed way earlier than usual last night. I took some melatonin gummies, and I just discovered that melatonin gives me nightmares!" chris continued, his voice trailing off as he walked away from the stove and into the living room.

you loved listening to him just ramble, his words flowing like a gentle stream, each sentence a pebble that you would turn over in your mind, examining its texture and shape.

you would hang on to every word, absorbing the cadence of his voice, the subtle inflections that hinted at deeper emotions.

sometimes, though, your mind would wander, and you'd find yourself lost in the quiet admiration of his face, tracing the contours of his features with your eyes, as if committing every detail to memory.

his presence was a balm, and whether you were fully engaged in his stories or simply basking in the serenity of his company, you cherished those moments deeply.

"oh, really?" you mumbled, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern. "you had a nightmare?" you inquired, the question hanging in the air, laden with the weight of genuine interest.

chris nods, sinking into the couch with a casual grace. "yeah, but it wasn’t that bad," he says, his tone reassuring. "it wasn’t about monsters or anything like that."

"y’wanna talk about it?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep as you groggily rise from your bed. you place your phone down on the vanity, the soft clink barely audible, and make your way over to the closet, your steps slow and deliberate.

"no... well, actually, yes," chris said, a tentative smile playing on his lips. "alright, so here's the gist of it—it was me and nick in the nightmare," he began, his words spilling forth in a torrent as he delved into the details, his ramble stretching on like an unending tapestry woven from the threads of his restless mind.

chris was rambling about the nightmare, his thoughts darting from one topic to another like a restless butterfly.

he frequently veered off course, diving into tangents that seemed only loosely connected to his original tale, creating a tapestry of disjointed musings and fragmented stories.

and the entire time, you listened with a gentle smile gracing your lips, your hands deftly applying makeup, each brushstroke a silent testament to your patience and attentiveness.

chris lets out a soft giggle, a sound so delicate and enchanting that it immediately sends your stomach into spirals, a whirlwind of emotions ignited by that simple, yet profound, expression of joy.

you never noticed how gentle his laughter was, a subtle melody that seemed to caress the air. You never realized it was the most enchanting sound you had ever heard, a symphony of softness that resonated deeply within you.

you tried to listen again, but his words started to blur, becoming a distant and indistinct murmur in the background of your thoughts.

the only thing that occupied your mind was an intricate tapestry of dreams and possibilities, where you envisioned the two of you as a perfect couple.

you imagined how your lives would intertwine seamlessly, each moment a testament to the harmony and understanding that seemed almost fated.

the more you pondered, the more the notion grew, overshadowing everything else in the room.

but then, the smoke detector suddenly pierced the air with its shrill alarm, an abrupt intrusion that made both you and chris flinch.

the moment shattered like fragile glass, pulling you both back to the stark reality of the present with a jarring intensity.

"chris! what is that?" nick's voice echoed from upstairs, urgency lacing his tone as he descended the stairs, his eyes immediately drawn to the stove. "you left the stove on again?" nick groaned, frustration evident in his voice as he surveyed the scene.

"I gotta go!" chris exclaimed, swiftly rising from his seat and casting a fleeting smile towards his phone. "bye!" he added, before abruptly ending the call.

»--•--«

chris

I burnt my food :(

y/n

yeah i figured 😭

thats like the third time this month

chris

I know 😕

Man those eggs looked so buss too

y/n

mhm i bet they did

chris

Im so upset

😔

If only a professional listener that barely speaks could take me out and bring me to dennys

😔

y/n

seriously

chris

Yes

y/n

…

would you like to go to dennys with me

chris

Never thought you’d ask!

y/n

😭

ill pick you up around 10

chris

Ok 😁

See you n/n

y/n

see you later chris!

»--•--«

you watch as chris talks animatedly about something he's passionate about, his gestures lively and his eyes alight with enthusiasm.

each word he speaks seems to weave a tapestry of his dreams and aspirations, drawing you into his world.

yet, despite his captivating narrative, your thoughts drift, becoming ensnared in the depths of his gaze.

you can't help but lose yourself in those eyes, a sea of unspoken emotions and possibilities, imagining a future where the two of you are inseparably intertwined, each moment a testament to the bond you believe you are destined to share.

your bond with chris has been unwavering since the days when both of you first learned to talk, a connection forged in the earliest moments of your shared existence.

however, a shift has begun to stir within you, a subtle yet profound change in the nature of your feelings.

the laughter you once shared, once so familiar and effortless, now carries a different weight. not in the bad way, but rather one that sends a flutter through your stomach and a rush of warmth to your cheeks, transforming each shared moment into something deeply exhilarating and new.

everything he once did, actions that would have previously passed by unnoticed, now evokes a whirlwind of emotions within you, making you feel everything with an intensity you never anticipated.

but how could you not? He embodies a rare combination of beauty, vivacity, and humor, surpassing anyone you have ever encountered.

you find yourself captivated by the way his hair cascades effortlessly across his face, and how each freckle, like a constellation, makes him uniquely him.

there are moments when you find yourself meticulously counting the freckles scattered across his face, each one a delicate mark that adds to the intricate mosaic of his being.

never before have you been so utterly enraptured, finding within him the very embodiment of everything you have ever desired.

each moment spent in his presence feels like a dream woven from your deepest longings, where every glance, every word, and every gesture seems to fulfill a part of your soul that you never knew was yearning.

"y/n?" chris's voice pierces through the veil of your reverie, pulling you abruptly from the depths of your contemplative trance.

“yeah?” you say softly, taking a sip of your coffee, your lipgloss staining the white mug

“you listening?” chris asks, taking a bite of his waffle

"yes!" you respond enthusiastically, "you were elaborating on the phenomenon of jumping and falling from a towering cliff."

"exactly!" chris exclaimed, "it's such a bizarre concept, isn't it? i can barely manage the thrill of a rollercoaster, let alone muster the courage to leap and plummet from a cliff!" chris chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

chris savored another mouthful of his waffle, the rich flavors dancing on his palate as he continued to ponder the conversation.

"you can jump then fall into me," you murmur softly, almost to yourself, as you take a contemplative sip of your coffee, hoping the words remain unheard.

"what was that?" chris inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity. You glanced up, catching the sight of his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

"oh, nothing!" you quickly replied. "just—maybe we should try jumping and falling off a cliff one day," you stammered, a nervous smile playing on your lips.

chris's eyes widened, his eyebrows arching in surprise. "are you serious?" he laughed, incredulity coloring his tone. "you couldn't even dangle my firstborn off a building to get me on a rollercoaster! just the sensation of a car going downhill is more than enough for me. there's no way you actually want to jump off a cliff," he declared.

you pressed your lips together, a delicate dance of restraint and anticipation, as if your smile was a secret too precious to reveal just yet.

chris takes a generous bite of his waffle, the moment steeped in a tranquil silence that wraps around you both like a comforting embrace.

chris shakes his head, hastily swallowing his waffle. "you know what? I'm so grateful to have you in my life," he says, a genuine smile illuminating his face.

you return his smile, gently setting your mug back on the table. “me too, chris,” you reply, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments.

"like genuinely! I don't say it enough, but I love you," he declares, his words sending a rush of warmth to your cheeks, painting them with a delicate blush.

"y’know? It's like you hold the keys to the deepest parts of my soul. Whenever I'm engulfed in sadness, you stay by my side, holding me through the entire night until the shadows lift and a smile returns to my face," he says, his grin widening. "in today's world, it's incredibly hard to find such unwavering support and understanding. I genuinely appreciate you more than words can express."

you chuckle softly, a knowing smile playing on your lips as you gently shake your head, a gesture filled with a blend of amusement and affection.

beyond his playful personality, chris had a tendency to fill the quiet moments with heartfelt expressions of gratitude. Every time silence fell between you, he would seize the opportunity to voice his appreciation, and that was a quality you had always cherished deeply.

"you’re so sweet, chris. without a doubt, you are the most compassionate person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting," you say, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

»--•--«

you and chris stepped out of denny's, the warm glow of the diner fading behind you, and made your way into the serene embrace of the nearby park.

you frequented this park with a sense of familiarity and fondness, often referring to it affectionately as "your spot," a sanctuary amidst the bustling world.

as the golden hues of the setting sun bathed the park in a warm, ethereal glow, you and chris meandered leisurely along the winding path, enveloped by the tranquil beauty of the moment.

the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds created a serene symphony that mirrored the calm before a storm brewing in your hearts.

your thoughts raced like wild horses as you stole furtive glances at Chris, each look laden with unspoken words and hidden emotions.

his presence was both comforting and exhilarating, like the first sip of hot cocoa on a cold winter's day.

you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke, or how his laughter seemed to chase away your worries.

suddenly, chris stopped walking and turned to face you, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability.

your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, your breath hitching in anticipation.

"y/n," chris began, his voice soft yet steady, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

you felt your pulse quicken, your mind racing with possibilities. you nodded, urging him to continue.

chris took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I've been feeling something more than friendship, and I can't keep it to myself any longer. every time I see you, every time we talk, I realize just how much you mean to me. you're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I fall asleep. y/n, you are my anchor, my guiding star. I promise I'll always be there for you, to catch you when you fall, and to hold you through the tough times. I want to be the one who makes you smile, who shares your burdens, and who dreams with you. I guess what I’m trying to say is that, I love the way you make me laugh, the way you understand me like no one else does. I love you, y/n."

your eyes widened in surprise, your heart swelling with a mixture of joy and relief. You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to gently touch his.

"chris," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, "I've been afraid to say anything, but I can't deny it anymore. every moment we spend together feels like a dream I never want to wake up from. I feel the same way. I've been falling for you, too. I love the way you make me feel safe, the way you bring out the best in me. I love you."

a radiant smile spread across chris's face as he pulled you into a tight embrace. you felt the warmth of his love envelop you, and you knew that this was where you belonged.

as you pulled back slightly, your eyes met once more.

chris leaned in, and you closed the distance, your lips meeting in a sweet, tender kiss. it was a kiss filled with promise, a silent vow to always be there for each other, to cherish and support one another through whatever life might bring.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, you and chris sat on a nearby bench, hand in hand, watching the sky transform into a canvas of stars. jou knew that this was just the beginning of your beautiful journey together, and you were ready to face it side by side.

"i really did jump then fell into you, didn't i?"

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