#I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a character as or not so you get one anyways | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aesthetically-dying101 · 1 day ago

Note

how would the jjk men react to the reader jumping out the car during an argument?

A/N: HELLO??? LMFAO???? thats hilarious, im writting this bc this is just fucking funny, im tempted to simply like... kill the reader, but that'd be the easy way out.

warnings: arguments, angst, sad, humor? bad humor. this is all for shits and gids okay? don't take it seriously. couple uses of Y/N. a bit of ooc, toxic behavior

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Choso, Shiu, Higuruma. (in that order)

The countryside stretched on, endless and suffocating, the car’s tires humming against the asphalt in a rhythm that made you want to scream. The air inside the vehicle was thick, not with heat but with words unsaid, unscreamed. Nanami Kento, ever composed, was driving with the calm precision of someone determined not to rise to the bait.

His voice, steady and measured, grated against your last nerve.

“I understand your concern,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road. His hands were firm on the wheel, knuckles pale in the moonlight. “But you’re being unreasonable. The job requires—”

“Requires you to throw yourself into danger headfirst?!” You snapped, twisting in your seat to glare at him. “You think that’s noble, Kento? You think that makes you some kind of martyr?”

He sighed. Not a loud sigh. Not an exasperated sigh. Just a small, quiet thing, like a pressure valve letting off steam. That was worse. Like he’d already decided how this would play out.

“It’s not about martyrdom. It’s about responsibility. Someone has to—”

“Stop the car.”

His brow twitched, just slightly. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“STOP. THE. CAR.”

“I will not,” he said, voice clipped but still infuriatingly calm. “It’s the middle of nowhere. We can discuss this like adults when we’re—”

You didn’t wait for him to finish. Your hand shot to the door handle, adrenaline drowning out the rational voice in your head. You didn’t care.

You didn’t care.

The door opened. The rush of cold air hit you like a slap, and then you were out—tucking and rolling onto the roadside gravel, the world spinning around you. The scrape of stones against your hands and knees barely registered as you scrambled to your feet, heart pounding.

Behind you, the car screeched to a halt. A perfect, precise stop.

Of course.

You didn’t look back. Not yet. Instead, you started walking, arms crossed tight over your chest. The night swallowed you whole—darkness, the hum of cicadas, the cold bite of an autumn breeze. It was reckless, sure. Irresponsible. But wasn’t that the point? You wanted him to feel it, to see how it felt when someone you cared about did something stupid, reckless, dangerous.

“Y/N.” His voice, steady but closer now, rang out in the stillness.

You kept walking.

“Y/N.” A little sharper this time. A little more him. The sound of his footsteps behind you quickened.

“Go back to your car, Kento!” you shouted over your shoulder, not slowing down. “Since you love driving into danger so much—”

“Enough.”

The word cut through the night, firm and final. You stopped. You didn’t turn, but you stopped, arms still clutched tight against your chest, trembling from more than the cold.

He caught up to you in a few long strides, stepping in front of you, blocking your path. His expression was unreadable in the moonlight—stoic as ever, but his jaw was tight, his shoulders tense. The mask of calm had cracked. Just a little.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice low. “Do you have any idea how—”

“How what?” you snapped, chin tilting up defiantly. “How dangerous it is? How stupid? How it feels to watch someone you care about walk into danger without thinking—”

His hands found your shoulders, grounding, steady. “You’ve made your point,” he said quietly. Not cold. Not dismissive. Quiet in the way a storm retreats.

You blinked up at him, the fire in your chest flickering under the weight of his gaze. For a moment, it was just the two of you, standing in the dark, the night pressing in around you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and the words fell heavy, deliberate. His grip on your shoulders tightened, just slightly. “I’m sorry for worrying you. But don’t ever do that again.”

You stared at him, lips parted, heart pounding. His words weren’t scolding. They weren’t angry. They were something deeper—something raw, a plea wrapped in steel.

“I—” Your voice wavered, and you bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. “You don’t get to—”

“I don’t,” he interrupted, softer now. “I don’t get to lecture you. But I’m asking. Please.”

The wind tugged at your hair, carrying the sharp scent of pine and earth. You let out a shaky breath, finally letting your arms drop to your sides. His hands slid away, lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But you’re not off the hook.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, so fleeting you might have imagined it. “I wouldn’t expect to be.”

The car’s interior was suffocating, thick with anger that burned hotter than the night outside. Toji’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw locked tight, his eyes glued to the road with a fury that made you want to shrink into the seat. But you didn’t shrink. You stared ahead, matching his tension with your own boiling frustration.

“It wasn’t my fault,” you said, your voice sharp enough to cut.

“I know it wasn’t your fault,” he bit out, the words snapping through gritted teeth. “It was that idiot Shiu sending you in blind—”

“Then why are you yelling at me?”

His hands slammed against the steering wheel with a crack that echoed through the car, his lips curling into a snarl. “I’m not yelling at you! I’m yelling because you could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

The words hung there, heavy and seething. The car swerved slightly as his grip returned to the wheel, the muscle in his jaw twitching like a live wire. You could feel his fury rolling off him in waves, not aimed directly at you but still scalding, too hot to bear.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, the walls of the car closing in. The road stretched endlessly under the dim glow of the headlights, the countryside a black void on either side.

“You don’t get to do this,” you shot back, voice shaking with the adrenaline surging through you. “You don’t get to act like you care and then—then—”

“Then what, huh?” he barked, glancing at you, eyes flashing. “I told Shiu to back off. I told him not to send you, but he didn’t listen, and now I’m cleaning up his—”

You didn’t think. You didn’t plan. The door handle was in your hand before you realized it, the rush of cold night air slapping you in the face as you yanked it open.

“The hell are you—” Toji’s shout was drowned out by the roar of wind as you threw yourself out of the car, tucking and rolling onto the gravel shoulder. The impact jolted through your body, but you barely felt it, adrenaline numbing the scrape of rocks against your skin.

You were on your feet before the car screeched to a halt, headlights slicing through the darkness as Toji slammed on the brakes. The sound of the car door opening and slamming shut followed, heavy boots crunching against the gravel as he stalked toward you.

“What the fuck was that?!” he roared, his voice carrying over the empty countryside, sharp and furious. “You trying to get yourself killed again?”

You didn’t turn around, just started walking in the opposite direction, arms crossed over your chest.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” Toji shouted, the anger in his voice now laced with something else. Something sharp and raw.

You ignored him, steps deliberate, the cold wind biting at your skin.

In two strides, he was on you, grabbing your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks. “Hey,” he growled, voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to pull that kind of stunt and just walk off. Not with me.”

You whirled on him, yanking your wrist free. “And you don’t get to treat me like some reckless idiot when you do this kind of shit all the time!” you shot back, chest heaving, voice trembling with anger. “You want to talk about getting killed? Look in the damn mirror, Toji!”

He froze, the words hitting him square in the chest. His jaw worked, but no sound came out for a moment, his shoulders stiffening as his gaze bore into yours.

“I’m not—” He stopped himself, dragging a hand through his hair, fingers gripping the strands like he wanted to rip them out. His voice dropped, low and tense. “You don’t get it. It’s different when it’s me.”

“Why?” you demanded, stepping closer, your voice rising. “Because you think you’re invincible? Because you think I can just stand by and watch you do it, over and over again?”

His eyes narrowed, the muscle in his jaw ticking again. For a second, you thought he might explode again, but then his shoulders sagged—just barely—and he exhaled sharply through his nose.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he muttered, the admission rough and grudging, like it had been dragged out of him against his will.

“Then stop acting like I don’t care when you do,” you said, your voice softer now, the anger ebbing just slightly, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, the night pressing in on all sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, his gaze lingering on the scrapes on your hands, the way your shoulders trembled—not just from the cold.

Finally, he sighed, long and low, and ran a hand down his face. “Get back in the car,” he said, his voice quieter now but still firm.

You hesitated, meeting his eyes, waiting for something more.

“I’ll... drive slower,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His tone softened further, almost grudgingly. “And we’ll talk when we get back.”

It wasn’t an apology. Not exactly. But for Toji, it was close enough.

You huffed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest, but after a beat, you nodded and turned back toward the car.

He followed a step behind, silent but watchful, like he’d be ready to catch you if you bolted again.

The air between you both is sharp, thick like the tension that’s been building for days, if not weeks. Every word Gojo says is like a slap against your skin, each tone laced with venom, dripping with frustration. You can't take it anymore. You’d tried, you really did—tried to understand his side of things, but how the hell are you supposed to when everything seems to revolve around his ego, his strength, his damn Infinity?

You're seething in that passenger seat, hands balled into fists, teeth gritted so hard you're sure you'll snap them. Then he says it, something about being "the strongest" again, like it means anything to you anymore. Like it's some sort of answer to every damn thing in this relationship.

"I don't care that you're the strongest, Gojo!" You snap, voice sharp and unforgiving. "It doesn't make you untouchable, it doesn't give you the right to be reckless, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean you can ignore me when I’m worried sick about you."

But no, of course, that doesn't go over well. He's pissed too. He’s glaring at you, hands gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are as white as his cursed energy. His lips curl into a sneer. "You think I don't know what you're saying? But this—this is just how it is. I don’t get to stop, okay? Not with everything the clans are pushing on us. This is the life we lead—”

"Yeah, well, I'm not just some accessory for the clans to throw into the mix!" You cut him off, barely holding back the rage in your voice. "I’m a person, not a tool for your legacy!"

That’s it. The straw that breaks the camel’s back. His words get louder, each one bouncing off the inside of the car like it's shaking the world around you. He's got every excuse in the book, and you’re about done with it.

Before he can finish another sentence, before that arrogant smirk can crawl back onto his face, you fling open the door. Without thinking, you just—jump.

The world spins as you tuck and roll, landing with a thud on the ground, your heart pounding like you've just done something insane, which you have. You don’t even spare a glance back at him, just start walking—stomping away like you mean it. You don’t care if he catches up or not, you're just done.

Gojo slams on the brakes, tires screeching as he skids to a stop. You hear the door swing open, his voice booming from behind you, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

You don’t stop, your pace just as fast, your anger rising with every step. He’s right there, a few feet behind you, his breath heated, as he jogs to catch up. "You think you can just walk away from me, huh? What, you think I'm just gonna let you leave like that?"

You turn your head, throwing him a look that’s half fury, half disbelief. "You’re not untouchable, Gojo. Stop acting like you are. You’re just a man. A very strong, annoying, overpowered man—"

"I’ve got Infinity!" he interrupts, mocking, that cocky grin plastered on his face. He says it like a child, making sure to emphasize the ‘in’ like it’s the only thing that matters, the only thing that’s real in his world.

You can feel it in your chest, the ridiculousness of it all, and for a second, just a second, your resolve wavers. He’s being childish, but it still makes you want to laugh. And you fight it, you really do, but when you look at his face—his dumb, smug face—you can’t help but let out a laugh, short and sharp, despite yourself.

He’s still smirking, walking beside you now, like he’s won, like this is all some stupid game. But it’s not. Not to you.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" you mumble, eyes glaring ahead, refusing to look at him, even though his presence is like a constant pull you can't quite ignore.

And Gojo, always the one to make everything about him, only chuckles in response, like he’s getting some sick enjoyment out of this back-and-forth.

"Yeah, maybe. But I’m still the strongest, right?"

You don't even dignify that with an answer.

Not yet.

The car hums beneath you, but the tension between you and Geto is suffocating. The engine’s low growl matches the intensity in his voice as he rips into you, trying to force you to see the world through his eyes. But it’s like listening to a nightmare—one you’ve already woken up from, and yet, here he is, dragging you back into it.

"You're still so blind," Geto snarls, his fingers tightening around the wheel. "You don’t see it, do you? The truth is, they’re all weak. Normal people? They're nothing but monkeys. You think they deserve your loyalty? They're nothing but pawns in a game they can’t even understand."

His words hang heavy in the car, sharp like daggers, and they cut deeper with every breath. He’s not the person you knew anymore. This isn’t the man you trusted, the one who once laughed with you, who fought at your side. He’s become something else, something dark, something dangerous. His vision for the world feels suffocating, and you won’t be a part of it.

You can feel your pulse quicken, your blood boiling with anger. The venom in his voice—the conviction, the belief that he’s right—it’s pushing you to the edge, testing every ounce of control you have left.

"I won’t be a part of this." Your voice cracks through the tension, a brittle sound that almost breaks. "I can’t be. You’re talking about destroying people—people who don’t even have the ability to see the curses, to see what we do. They can’t fight back, Suguru. They don’t deserve this. I won’t be your weapon."

His eyes snap to you, his gaze sharp as a blade. For a moment, the car feels like it’s closing in on you, the walls too tight, his presence too heavy. The silence is almost worse than his words, the oppressive weight of his fury pressing down on you.

Geto lets out a harsh laugh, a sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"You don’t get it. You still don’t get it. They’re all sheep. I am offering you something better—a future without them dragging us down. You could be so much more, if you just open your eyes. We’re better, you and me. We can reshape the world."

Your hands tremble with rage. His words hit you like a slap, but it’s not just his twisted ideals that make you want to scream—it’s the way he’s trying to convince you, like you’re nothing but a piece on his chessboard, something to manipulate. He’s trying to pull you into his madness, to drag you into his vision of a world built on violence and control.

"Stop." The word comes out sharp, almost like a growl. "I won’t be a part of this. You’ve crossed a line, Geto. You’re not the person I knew anymore."

Oof- back to his last name??

You don’t care that his grip on the wheel tightens, the knuckles white with fury. You don’t care about his angry, piercing glare. The air inside the car is thick, suffocating, pressing in on you with every word he spits at you. You’ve had enough. You can’t breathe anymore, can’t stand being trapped in this twisted conversation with him.

Without thinking, your hand shoots out, grabbing the door handle with desperate force. You slam the door open with a flick of your wrist, the wind hitting your face with a rush of cold air. You don’t give him the chance to stop you. You don’t give him the chance to change your mind.

With a deep breath, you push yourself out of the car, rolling your body onto the asphalt in one smooth motion. Your body protests, but you barely register the pain; it’s nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You land on your feet and take off, walking away without a single glance behind you.

You can hear the car screech to a halt, the engine roaring as he slams it into park. You hear him shout your name, his voice full of rage, but it’s all distant now. His words are meaningless, like the noise of a storm that’s passing.

You’ve already made your decision.

"I'm not going to be part of your cult. You’re wrong, Geto. You’re delusional." The words leave your mouth cold and final, cutting through the air between you like a blade. "You don’t get to decide who lives and dies, and I won’t follow you into the hell you’re trying to build."

Geto’s voice rises behind you, thick with fury. "You’ll regret this," he calls after you, but you don’t flinch. You won’t. Not anymore. "You’ll see. They’re all going to fall."

You don’t look back, your feet pushing you farther away from him, away from the mess he’s trying to drag you into. With each step, the weight in your chest lightens.

He’s lost. He’s gone.

And you’ll never let him drag you down with him.

All you can do is mourn the man you once loved.

The car’s too small for all the fury in the air, every inch of it heavy with the weight of the argument. You’ve been staring out the passenger window for what feels like hours, the night sky swallowing the city’s glow. Sukuna’s words buzz in your head, replaying over and over. “It’s not a big deal. He’s fine. He’ll forget about it.” The way he shrugs it off, like it means nothing. Like he hasn’t scarred your kid for life. You can feel the heat rising in your chest, the tightness in your throat as you grip the seat, trying so damn hard to hold it together.

But you won’t. Not this time.

You turn your head slowly, eyes catching the way his fingers twitch on the steering wheel, like he’s just waiting for you to break. He’s so damn sure of himself. So damn confident that he’s right, as always. But this time, his smirk makes your blood boil. His dismissive tone stabs at the raw nerve inside you, the one you’ve tried so desperately to protect. Your son.

"He's fine," Sukuna says again, his voice as smooth and cold as ever. "You’re making a mountain out of a molehill."

Every word that leaves his mouth just makes it worse. Your son—your baby boy—is having nightmares, waking up in cold sweats, eyes wide and terrified, unable to look at you without seeing the bloodstained images from that night. The night you specifically told him not to expose him to. The night he thought it was fine to act like an idiot.

“I said don’t let him see that,” you snap, voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. Your hands are shaking now, and you’re gripping the armrest so hard you’re sure it’s gonna snap off. You look at him, not even trying to hide how pissed you are anymore. “You broke the one rule I had. The only rule. Don’t expose him to that.”

Sukuna flicks a glance at you, eyes narrowing just slightly, but his expression doesn’t change. “He’s a kid, he’ll forget. You’re overreacting. Get over it.”

You blink, hard. He’s not even listening.

It takes everything in you to not scream, but you manage to hold it in, just barely. You’re already feeling the cracks form inside of you. You’re done. The car’s cramped. The air’s thick. The tension suffocating. You can’t be here anymore. You need to get out. You need to breathe.

You don’t even think about it. You don’t give him the chance to stop you. Without a word, you yank the door open. The metal groans in protest, the sound of the lock clicking just before you toss yourself out. You tuck your body into a roll as soon as your feet hit the ground, the asphalt scraping your skin as you brace for impact. Pain flashes in your shoulder and knees, but you don’t care. You don’t care. It’s better than staying in that damn car with him, with the anger boiling over between you both, suffocating every part of you.

Before you can even get to your feet, there’s the sound of tires screeching. You hear the slam of the brakes, the engine roaring to life as Sukuna’s car jerks to a stop. You can already feel his presence behind you, towering and relentless. You don’t turn around. You don’t want to see that look on his face, the one that says he’s about to destroy you for this.

But you don’t care anymore.

You start to take a step forward, ready to walk away from him, but then there’s a sharp tug on your arm, like steel, pulling you back. Before you can even process it, he’s yanking you up, dragging you back toward the car. His grip is like fire, burning through your jacket, through your skin, through your very bones. You don’t have time to think, not as he shoves you into the backseat like you’re a doll he’s tossing aside.

You try to fight back, but it’s useless. His hand pushes you down into the seat, hard enough that your head rattles against the window. He slams the door shut with a finality that leaves no room for argument.

“What the hell was that, huh?” His voice is low, dangerous, each word dripping with a mixture of anger and disbelief. You can feel his eyes burning holes into you as he leans over the seat, his shadow stretching across your face. “You think you can just run away? You think that’s gonna solve anything?”

You don’t flinch. You don’t back down. Your heart’s still pounding, the fire still raging inside of you, but now you can’t escape. Not this time. Not anymore. You press your back against the leather seat, glaring up at him.

“You don’t get to control everything,” you say, voice steady, even though your chest feels like it’s about to implode. “I don’t care how much you think you know. You crossed a line. And you’re not going to pretend like it didn’t happen.”

His eyes flash. The air between you thickens. And then, in a move so fast you don’t even see it coming, his hand shoots forward, locking the child safety locks on the door with a sickening click.

You freeze, the weight of the motion hitting you like a punch in the gut. Your heart drops into your stomach as you realize what he’s just done. You’re trapped.

“Now, you listen to me,” Sukuna growls, his voice so low, it’s almost a rumble. His gaze locks onto you like he’s trying to strip you bare, like he’s trying to make you break. “You think this is over? You think this is going to go the way you want? No. It doesn’t work like that. Not when you’re mine.”

But even though his voice is dangerous, even though there’s a part of you that knows he could snap you in half, you don’t back down. You don’t flinch. Not this time. You stare him down, chest rising and falling with each breath, fury mixing with the bitter taste of defeat.

“You’re wrong,” you murmur, almost to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear. “You don’t get to make decisions for us anymore. Not after this.”

Sukuna stares at you for a long, excruciating moment, his grip tightening on the wheel, his jaw clenched so tight you’re worried it might snap. But then he pulls back, the silence hanging between you like a storm on the horizon.

You don’t know who’s going to break first, but you’re done letting him control this.

Done letting him walk all over you.

And you sure as hell won’t apologize for caring about your kid.

Choso's car is too quiet for a fight. But it’s that suffocating, deafening quiet—the kind where every word, every breath feels like a spark about to set fire to everything. You’re seething beside him, knuckles white on your lap as you try to breathe, try to hold it together, but it’s slipping, crumbling.

“You never fucking listen,” you snap, eyes narrowing as you stare out the window, trying to calm the storm raging inside you. You can't help the way your voice spikes. It's not like you want to blow up. But goddamn, his indecision drives you to the edge. "You just... sit there, like it’s all fucking fine. Like people aren’t walking all over you."

Choso's grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles going white. He doesn't say anything. Nothing at all. He doesn’t even look at you, his gaze focused straight ahead, his jaw clenched like he’s trying to keep it all in. But it’s always the same with him. You talk, you yell, you try to get through, but it never fucking matters.

“Answer me!” you demand, your voice sharp, cutting through the silence. “Why the hell won’t you stand up for yourself? For us? You just let people use you—let them walk all over you—and you do nothing. Nothing!”

He swallows hard, his breathing deepening, but his hands don’t leave the wheel. His eyes are still on the road, and there’s that damn tension in his shoulders. You see it, the way he’s folding into himself, curling inward like he’s trying to hide from everything you’re throwing at him.

“I’m not—” he begins, but the words die before they can even finish forming.

“No. You’re not what? What exactly are you not, Choso?” Your voice is practically dripping with bitterness, a mix of anger and frustration and maybe something else—something more desperate. “Do you think I’m blind? Do you think I don’t see you letting everyone walk all over you? Just fucking stop acting like it's okay.”

He winces at your words, but it’s worse when he does respond. It’s soft, almost pleading. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“That’s the problem! You don’t know anything. You just sit there, acting like if you don’t say anything, things will get better. But they won’t. They never do.”

His lips part, but he doesn't speak. He’s trying to make the words come out, trying to hold himself together, but all it does is piss you off more. The fact that he can’t—won’t—get it together.

“You’re always so fucking passive, Choso. Always.” You almost laugh, but it's hollow, empty. “Why is it always up to me to fix everything? To fight for us? I’m tired of doing everything.”

You feel him stiffen next to you, his eyes flickering toward you briefly. “I’m trying, okay? I’m trying my best,” he says, his voice breaking under the strain, desperate in its own way. “It’s just... I don’t know how to make it better. I don’t know how to fix it.”

You’ve heard him say that so many times, and it’s always the same. Like he’s always trying, but it never really shows. It’s always excuses, always reasons for why nothing can change.

The car feels like it’s closing in around you, suffocating. His words don’t reach you anymore. The air’s too thick. You can’t breathe. You’re done.

“Stop the car.”

It’s not a request. You’re done asking.

But Choso doesn’t even blink. He keeps driving like nothing’s wrong, like you didn’t just tell him you’ve had enough.

“I said stop the car,” you repeat, low, fierce. You can feel the heat of your anger burning under your skin, clawing its way out.

He shakes his head, eyes flicking toward you but never fully meeting your gaze. “Please, don’t do this. We’ll talk—just… just give it a minute.”

“A minute?” you scoff, the laugh coming out bitter. “I’ve given you more than enough minutes, Choso. I’m done. So, stop the damn car.”

But he doesn't. Not until you’ve already swung open the door.

The wind howls in, biting your skin, tugging at your hair, and before he can even register what you’re doing, you’ve already thrown yourself out of the moving vehicle.

It happens so fast. Your feet hit the asphalt with a sickening thud, and for a split second, it feels like the world is spinning. You roll with it, muscles reacting before your mind can even process the pain. The road scrapes against you, but it’s nothing compared to the anger boiling inside, the absolute rage at being trapped in this moment, with him.

The car screeches behind you, the tires scraping against the pavement as Choso slams on the brakes, panic in his eyes. The car comes to a jerky stop a few feet ahead of you, the engine still roaring as if it's a living thing trying to escape.

You’re on your feet instantly, dusting yourself off, every muscle screaming from the impact, but none of it compares to how your chest feels—how much lighter you are now, finally away from him and the suffocating weight of his inaction.

Choso stumbles out of the car, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his face pale like he’s seen a ghost. He’s not sure what to do, doesn’t know how to react to this, to you. “What the hell... what the hell are you—”

You stare at him, your eyes cold, hard. "I gave you so many chances. So many times I begged you to stop being a doormat, but you just let me down every fucking time." The words are sharp, cutting through him, but you can’t bring yourself to feel sorry.

His shoulders sag as he takes a step toward you, like a man broken. “I didn’t want you to—” He stops, his voice choking, and there’s a desperation in his eyes, something raw and vulnerable you’ve never seen before. “I’m sorry. I... I don’t know how to be what you want. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying. I swear I am.”

The apology feels weak, like he’s not even sure how to ask for your forgiveness. But that’s just it. He’s been trying. But it’s never enough.

“You say that every time,” you mutter, shaking your head, the frustration still thick in your chest. “But I’m not here for the 'trying' anymore. I’m here for the real shit.”

He steps closer, almost pleading now, voice cracking. “Please. Don’t leave. Please don’t do this. I’ll change. I promise I’ll do better.”

But it’s not about promises anymore. Not about words. You’ve heard them all before. You turn away from him, not willing to look back, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his apology stings.

“Fix yourself first, Choso,” you say, voice flat. “Then maybe we’ll talk.”

You leave him standing there, chest heaving, hands trembling, the weight of his failure pressing down on him. You’ve made your decision.

You’re done. For now.

The tension in the air is so thick it feels like you could choke on it. Shiu’s words are venomous, biting at your every attempt to get through. You’re practically suffocating under the weight of the argument, your hands clenched tight in your lap, but nothing you say seems to matter. You try to stay calm—you try—but with every dismissive sneer, with every mocking word, you can feel yourself starting to lose control.

“God, you’re so exhausting,” Shiu mutters, leaning back against the seat like he’s bored, like you’re just some irritating fly buzzing around him. “You don’t get it, do you? You're just... complaining again.”

You’re not complaining. You’re asking, trying to make him understand, but he won’t listen. Doesn’t even want to listen. His eyes stay on the road ahead, face cold and detached like this entire conversation doesn’t matter.

“Why can’t you just hear me out for once?!” you snap, the words flying out before you can stop them. You’re not sure if it’s the frustration or the hurt that has your voice trembling, but at this point, it doesn’t even matter. You can’t keep this in anymore. “I’m not some... some damn punching bag for you to—”

Shiu cuts you off with a low, mocking chuckle. “Oh, so now I’m the villain? Always your side of things, huh? You can’t even see it, can you? You’re the one who never gets it.”

The nerve. The sheer audacity. You can feel your blood boiling, your heart hammering against your chest. He’s not even trying. He doesn’t even care.

Your fingers graze the door handle, the cool metal sending a shiver up your spine. Before you even fully process it, your hand is gripping the door, your body already leaning toward it. You’re done. Done trying to reason with someone who isn’t listening.

The moment the door opens, a rush of cold air hits you, and without thinking, you slide out of the car. You hit the pavement with a rough roll, knees scraping against the rough ground, but you don’t care. You can hear Shiu yelling behind you, but you’re not stopping. Not now.

“Are you out of your mind?” His voice slices through the air, close now, frantic with rage. You hear the screech of tires as he slams the car into park, and a moment later, you feel his presence looming over you like a dark storm cloud. The gravel beneath your feet crunches as he stalks toward you, and you don’t dare turn around.

“Get back in the fucking car, now.” His voice is low, like a threat. Dangerous. He’s pissed—so pissed that you can practically feel the heat radiating off his skin. His hand grabs your wrist, fingers digging into your skin like a vise, pulling you back toward him.

You try to wrench your arm free, but he’s stronger, his grip unrelenting. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” His words are sharp, cutting through the air. “You think this is some kind of fucking game? You think you can just throw yourself out of the car like some child when you’re not getting your way? Huh?”

Your chest is tight, heart pounding in your ears, but you manage to pull your arm from his grasp, your voice steady despite the fire burning in your veins. “I’m not a child, Shiu,” you spit, your eyes meeting his for the first time. “And you sure as hell don’t give a shit about what I’m trying to say. You just keep brushing me off. Dismissing me.”

His nostrils flare, and you see that flicker of frustration in his eyes, something darker underneath it all. He takes a step closer, crowding your space, and you don’t back down. You can feel the heat of his breath on your face as he snarls, “You think I don’t care? You think I don’t hear you? I’m the one trying to make sense of all this while you’re too busy throwing a fucking tantrum to see it!”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum,” you say, your voice quieter now, but it cuts through the tension. “I’m just... trying to be heard. And all you do is mock me. Disrespect me. It’s like nothing I say matters.”

Shiu’s jaw tightens, and for a split second, he just stands there, staring at you like he can’t quite decide whether to rage or say something else. He clenches his fists at his sides, his breathing harsh.

“You think I’m disrespecting you?” His voice is low, cold now, like he’s fighting to control something dark and dangerous underneath the surface. “You wanna know what I think? I think you’ve got a serious fucking problem if you think that’s the way to deal with things. Just running off. Throwing yourself out of the car like an idiot. Do you want to get yourself killed?”

You can feel the sharpness of his anger, the way it presses in around you. But you’re tired. You’re so fucking tired of this. Of being made to feel small, of being belittled and mocked every damn time you try to open up.

“I’m not trying to die, Shiu,” you mutter under your breath, the words barely audible, but you know he hears them. His eyes narrow.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice is rough, strained, like he's holding onto something. "You think I don’t care, but when you do shit like this, it’s like you’re testing me. Testing how far you can go before I snap. And you will snap me. You keep pushing me until there's nothing left to give."

You take a deep breath, gathering yourself, and look up at him. You’re standing your ground, your voice steady despite the chaos bubbling inside you. “I’m not trying to test you. I just need to know you’re listening... actually listening."

Shiu’s hands ball into fists, his entire body tense, like he’s one wrong move away from breaking. But instead of shouting, instead of pushing, he just looks at you, the anger still there, but it’s... different now. Less explosive, more something you can't quite place.

"Don’t pull that shit again," he growls, low and dangerous. "Next time you wanna walk out, you better be ready for the consequences."

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze, the storm between you still raging but, for the first time, it feels like it might settle. Or at least... it might.

Hiruguma's car was moving too fast, tires humming a low, steady growl against the pavement, a sound you couldn’t shake, one that throbbed in the back of your skull like the beat of your pulse. The air between you two was suffocating, charged with the kind of tension that made your stomach churn and your fists clench in your lap.

“Hiromi, you’re not listening to me,” you said, voice shaking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. He was gripping the wheel with one hand, his other resting lazily on the gear shift. His face was cast in sharp shadows from the headlights of passing cars, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.

“I’m listening,” he muttered, his tone flat, dismissive.

Another empty response.

“No, you’re not,” you snapped, louder this time, your voice cutting through the low rumble of the car. “You’re not fine, and you know it! You’ve been running yourself into the ground, and you don’t even care anymore!”

He didn’t even flinch.

“I said I’m fine,” he repeated, voice low, monotone, as if the words meant anything at all. His grip on the wheel didn’t tighten, didn’t change. He was detached, like he was somewhere else entirely, somewhere far away where your words couldn’t reach him.

You could feel the frustration boiling over, bubbling under your skin.

“You’re going to kill yourself at this rate!” you shouted, your voice cracking. You didn’t care if it sounded desperate. You were desperate. “And what then? Huh? What am I supposed to do, just sit here and watch you self-destruct?”

“I got it,” he bit out finally, sharper now, but still not looking at you. Not really looking at you. “I told you, I’m handling it.”

Your breath hitched.

“No, you’re not.” The words came out quiet this time, trembling, filled with something deeper, something raw and jagged. “You’re not handling anything, Hiromi. You’re barely holding yourself together.”

And still, nothing. Just that same blank, tired expression, the same hollow reassurance, the same nothingness.

Something inside you snapped.

Before you could second-guess it, before the gravity of what you were about to do could settle in, your hand shot out to the door handle. The wind roared against the opening door, the sound cutting through the argument like a knife.

“What the—?!” His voice cut through, but it was too late. You threw yourself out of the car, the wind slamming into you, the world spinning into a chaotic blur as you hit the ground. Pain bloomed sharp and immediate, your body rolling across the asphalt before finally coming to a stop on the hard, unforgiving pavement.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your own ragged breathing and the distant screech of tires. Then you heard it—the car skidding to a halt, the engine cutting off abruptly, followed by the slam of the door. Footsteps. Fast, frantic. His voice, raw and panicked in a way you’d never heard before.

“Are you insane?!” Hiruguma was on you in seconds, his hands gripping your shoulders, pulling you upright with a force that was almost too much. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

You didn’t answer right away, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. His hands were still on you, gripping too tightly, shaking slightly. His face was pale, eyes wide and frantic, the mask of apathy completely shattered.

“You’re not listening to me,” you whispered finally, your voice trembling. “You’re not hearing me, Hiruguma. You’re going to kill yourself. And I can’t— I won’t just sit there and let you.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes searching your face, and for the first time that night, he looked like he was actually seeing you. Really, truly seeing you.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was?” he said, his voice breaking on the last word. “You could’ve been—” He cut himself off, his grip tightening for a moment before he let out a shaky breath. “What if you’d gotten hurt worse than this? What if you—?”

His words faltered, and you saw it then—the cracks in his armor, the exhaustion, the guilt, the fear. It was all there, laid bare in the way his hands shook, the way his breath hitched, the way he couldn’t seem to meet your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I can’t lose you,” you said softly, the words falling between you like a stone, heavy and unyielding. “I’m scared for you, Hiruguma. I’m scared of what you’re doing to yourself. And if you won’t take care of yourself for your own sake, then do it for me. Please.”

He exhaled slowly, his hands loosening their grip as he closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders slumping. When he opened them again, there was something different in his gaze—something softer, something broken, but still there.

“You’re right,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right. I… I’ve been an idiot.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his, and for the first time that night, he didn’t pull away.

A/N: tbh i didn't rlly take this srsly, hence the low word count, but it was funny to write

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yukioos · 3 days ago

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LIKE A TATTOO

SUMMARY: hwang in-ho x wife reader // you came to the island with your husband to help him out with the new games. as you took a moment for yourself, reading a book in your shared bed, a fist knocked on your door. the guard escorted you to the observation room, where in-ho was. the two of you drink bourbon and make out, not paying much attention to the games.

AUTHORS NOTE: hi! this is my first squid game oneshot, i hope u like it! i’m still working on arcane ones so dw im not abandoning the requests. i’ll most likely start taking requests for squid game characters as well. might make a part 2 if people like this. this is 1.7k words

WARNINGS: not proofread, blood, guns, murder (players sabotaging n pushing each other in red light green light), making out, drinking

the frontman sat on a plush, luxurious seat in his private, sound-proof room. a player who won the game three years ago had come back to compete, supposedly to avenge all the people he lost. outside the window, the players were engaging in their first game; red light, green light, the first game.

he hadn’t had much time for himself as he was constantly busy overlooking the games and creating new ones. it was as if his work was perpetual, as if he was meant to be the frontman for the rest of his life. he later considered settling down with you, the love of his life. but he couldn’t leave the games behind, it was part of his life, of course. he was extremely against giving the role of the frontman to anyone, as there was no one he would expect to run the games properly and orderly.

you knew about his feelings about the games, and how he wanted to quit but he was terrified of being caught. of you being caught. it wasn’t that you personally killed any of the players, no, but you knew who was running it, knew him like the back of your hand. that made you an accomplice, and he was scared for your life, he didn’t want you to become too wrapped up in his troubles.

that, of course, was quickly dismissed as soon as you became his spouse. when he told you about his job, and how he needed to leave for a business trip, you asked if you could come with him. he hesitated, and it took him days to decide if it was safe enough for you to spend around two years there, with him. he needed to create new games to entertain the VIPs, so he could use some help from his creative wife, and you had been begging to see what his job was like ever since you married.

so you assisted him in creating designs for the games and a new addition in between games, the possibility to leave the games and split the money. however, this would be the first game you would watch. you were nervous, not sure what to expect, but your husband had secretly hoped you’d be impressed by the first game, and hopefully the next ones as well.

the emptiness on the couch saddened him. he wondered why he felt so uncomfortable alone, in the room where he had idly watched the games he ran. it was too quiet. but he missed your touch, the sound of your breathing, your pulse, and your heartbeat.

he tapped his finger against the armrest before slightly grinning. he clicked and held down a button on a stand, marked with a small, white square. he commanded, “bring my wife to the observation room.” he then grinned once he gained a reply, knowing someone had gotten the message.

you, on the other hand, were reading a book in your bedroom, bored out of your mind, as you didn’t know where your husband was. suddenly, a fist knocked hard on your door, three times. must’ve been a guard, as in-ho normally just walks into the room, as you both shared it.

you tilted your head slightly to the right, staring at the door before you placed a bookmark in between two pages. you wondered what it could be about. nothing important was happening today, right?

once you placed your hand on the cold doorknob and twisted it, you saw a tall worker in a pink jumpsuit standing in front of you. the square guard stated, “the frontman asked me to escort you to the observation room.” and stood still, eerily waiting for you to respond.

you mumbled, “um, okay,” then hesitated, as you stepped into your heels, “do you know why he asked me to go there?” he began walking, and you followed after him, heels clicking with every step you took.

the guard shook his head and walked a short distance, until he arrived in front of a bland, pink door. you shook in anticipation, giddy to see your husband again. the guard knocked his fist on the door, then after a couple of seconds, opened it and held the door open for you.

you bowed your head as a thank you and shot him a gentle smile. he bowed back and closed the door, causing you to turn around. you quickly noticed the room was padded, most likely a soundproof room. two doors were lining the sides of the walls, leading to a larger space, where your husband was watching a doll place her hand on something. he sat on the left side of the double seat, next to a coffee stand. a bright chandelier hung above him, lighting up the room.

did he invite you so you could watch the first game together?

he felt your stare on him and smirked to himself. he asked, without turning around, “are you going to come up and sit down, honey? wouldn’t want your legs to hurt from standing for so long.” he smiled once he heard you shudder from feeling nervous. he always knew what you felt like, even if you didn’t know yourself.

you slowly traveled to the spot next to him, looking at him up and down, eyeing his all-black outfit. you sat next to him, thighs touching as you noticed his black mask to conceal his identity. two glasses sat next to one another on the coffee table, a subtle reminder that he was always thinking about you. a bottle of bourbon was placed on the table next to the glasses, which your husband began to pour into the small glasses. he handed you yours first and stared at you for a moment.

you crumbled under his intimidating gaze, rarely having the ability to know what he was feeling. you wiped your lip with your index, asking, “do— do i have something on my face?” your eyebrows furrowed in worry, not wanting to look bad in front of such a handsome man.

he mumbled, “no,” and continued to eye you up and down, as if he wanted to memorize every part of your body. glancing at your lips for a moment too long, he placed his hand on your thigh, caressing the skin uncovered by stockings. he couldn’t help but stare at your plump lips, wanting his on yours for eternity.

in-ho wouldn’t stop staring at your lips, but of course, you noticed. you tried to hold your grin back, heart pumping as his staring made you nervous. maybe catching him off guard would make him stop staring.

so you gently placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into the kiss, eliciting a groan out of the man. even as you heard people talking from the game, he moved his hand down to your ass and placed both of his hands there, picking you up and placing you on his lap, not breaking away from the kiss.

you giggled into the kiss and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. the kiss was slow and passionate, as if both of you were trying to savor how the other felt in your hands, falling apart just for one another.

even as you heard an unfamiliar robot-like girl speaking, and the sounds of many footsteps running, you continued to move your lips against his. he ran his hand along your back, wishing he could feel you more through your soft fur coat. but you slowed your movements down, wanting to watch the game he had worked so hard on.

you slowly pulled away from him, causing him to needily chase your lips, wanting more. he gripped your thigh with want, you let out a small whimper, almost inaudible. as you rubbed his chest, he stared at your soft eyes, looking up at him as if he hung the stars and created the universe. he had never felt more loved than he had with you.

as soon as you sat back down on the couch, in-ho swiftly brought your legs up to his lap, gently taking your black heels off, wanting you to feel comfortable. he smiled at you after he gently placed them on the ground near the coffee table. his touch tickled your thighs, gently rubbing up and down as he watched the games from the window.

you suddenly heard a gunshot, making your eyes go wide as you tucked your knees more into yourself than him. he noticed the small movement and rubbed your calves, attempting to soothe you and your nerves. multiple guns fired, and people laid on the ground, blood pooling around their bodies, trying to run away from the doll.

in-ho clicked a remote, playing the song ‘fly me to the moon,’ which went with a model, containing toy singers that moved on beat. as the doll exclaimed, ‘green light!’ then ‘red light!’ no one dared to move a muscle. a player began to shout out commands, and the whole group quickly formed into lines at the next green light.

as the doll yelled, ‘red light!’ the leader of each line would halt first, and the last person in the line would stop last, however, the doll couldn’t detect their movements. it was a smart idea, you had to give them credit. your husband seemed displeased, however, as his hands halted, keeping his hands steady on your thighs. he sighed in frustration, but now it was time to soothe him. you grabbed his hand and held it, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand. he glanced at you and his eyes spoke for him, he wanted to say thank you, but was too frustrated to speak.

gunshots began to fire, due to players pushing one another, sabotaging each other, as humans were greedy and always wanted more. their own life was important to them, but they didn’t seem to care about taking the life of another, as it wasn’t theirs.

but in-ho unexpectedly turned to you and stated, “i’m participating in the games this time.”

your heart dropped.

#yukioos #x reader #squid game #squid game x reade #squid game season 2 #in ho #in ho x reader #hwang in ho #hwang in-ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in-ho x reader #in-ho #in-ho x reader #frontman #frontman x reader #frontman squid game #player 001 #player 001 x reader

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cressidagrey · 2 days ago

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Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really.

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.”

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him.

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well.

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with.

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one.

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it.

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh.

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

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fgumi · 2 days ago

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i need more loser!heeseung after reading that oh my gosh . yes yes yes yes. #needhim #needthat

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LO$ER = LO♡ER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, headcanon, WC; 2.7k, WARNING(S); mildly suggestive (what’s heeseung supposed to do when you’re so hot?), A/N; your wish is my command. i absolutely love loser!heeseung. it's a need. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso @hollyoongs @hoonieyun }

loser!heeseung was excited. so excited. why you may ask? because you agreed to go to anime con with him. you even suggested that the two of you cosplay. you asked to go as lucy and david from cyberpunk edgerunners, something that fit the aesthetic you two had built. so, heeseung checked himself out in the mirror, fumbling with the yellow jacket you sewed for him and fixing the pieces of his hair that fell out.

“baby, i think we’re gonna be late if we don’t head out n—”

you came out in your outfit as you adjusted the belt resting on your hip. heeseung didn’t have any words. you looked… gosh, how could he describe you without being weird? you were beautiful, even on the days you didn’t feel it. but… right now? heeseung felt ashamed to say that he understood all those nasty guys thirsting over cosplayers. holy crap, he hit the lotto. you were a vision.

“hee? do i look weird? i wasn’t sure about the wig either,” you pouted as you touched the long white strand.

“no!” heeseung shouted, then cleared his throat. “you look really good.”

you smiled and walked up to him, checking out the two of you in the mirror. “you also look very handsome. we make a good lucy and david, huh?”

your eyes glanced at heeseung through the mirror and noticed he was still looking at you with his mouth agape. you turned to him and waved your hand in front of his face. “hee?”

as he kept staring at you, you shifted. you couldn’t help but blush under his gaze. heeseung gulped. how was he going to keep all those creepy guys away from you? he can’t even fight! he’d have to cover you up! but then he wouldn’t get to look at you in this… this outfit.

you softly planted a kiss on his cheek and that brought him out of his daze. his ears were bright red when he stepped away from you.

“i— uh. um. we— you—” he stuttered, unable to form a coherent thought.

a giggle escaped you at his lack of words. you did a little spin for him. man, heeseung couldn’t help his eyes drifting down at the cutouts on your hips and how short your—no! stop objectifying her. bad heeseung. that is your lovely girlfriend, who you love very much and who, for some odd reasons, loves you too.

“hee,” you interrupted, your lashes lowering—wow, you looked ready to eat him. “i thought we were gonna be late?”

you crept up to him, your hand ghosting over his arm. you pressed into him. “i mean, we don’t have to go. i just thought you wanted—”

you didn’t end up going, by the way. your couple’s cosplay never saw the light of day. instead, they were scattered on your bedroom floor.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how to feel when you asked to play d&d with him. while he said yes (because he’d never say no to you), he was admittedly nervous. what if you thought he was a big nerd and wanted to leave him? what if you hated how he dm’d (dungeon master)? well, it was too late now. you guys were on your way to jeongin’s apartment.

contray to heeseung’s overthinking, you were excited. you finally got to experience one of heeseung’s favorite pastimes. you didn’t really understand the whole thing, but you were open to it! you did some late-night research and built your own little character. she was an eladrin sage druid at level 6. heeseung made sure to let you know that you’d be thrown right into the middle of this campaign and that all the other characters were at level 6.

when you guys arrived at the door, jeongin threw it open and you were taken aback. he was in full costume, armor and all. apparently, jeongin was also taken aback. he didn’t think you were actually coming.

“oh! uh, welcome to my apartment, y/n!” he stepped aside to let you and heeseung in. inside, you saw unfamiliar faces who were also in costume. jeongin pulled heeseung aside and whispered. “i didn’t think you were serious when you said that y/n was coming! and where’s your costume?”

heeseung gave him an apologetic look. “dude, i’m sorry. you know i can’t say no to her. and i didn’t want to overwhelm her before we even left the apartment.”

jeongin sighed. “you better still dm the same with the voices and everything. and no preferential treatment!”

heeseung nodded and went to sit by you. you leaned into him and whispered. “i feel incredibly underdressed. did you know they were going to dress up?”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “we usually do for every session.”

you pouted and looked him up and down. “i would’ve tried dressing up too if i knew! where’s your costume?”

oh, how heeseung loved you. you didn’t even bat an eye that they were all losers that liked to play dress up on a weekly basis. you were just put out that you weren’t told.

“i didn’t wanna pressure you when it’s your first time,” heeseung said, patting your knee. usually, heeseung would kiss your pout away, but he was in a room full of friends who were very blatantly staring at you.

a throat cleared, drawing heeseung’s attention towards jeongin. in a (poor) scottish accent, jeongin said. “dungeon master, the fellowship awaits ye!”

heeseung nodded and pulled out his notes for the campaign. when you tried to peek, he immediately leaned away, keeping the notebook shut. “the people in the campaign can’t see this,” he said.

understanding, you stopped trying to look. you just pulled out your phone with your character sheet on it. jeongin paused in his seat. “oh, y/n, did you need to build your character first? we can wait for you,” jeongin said in his normal voice.

you shook your head and waved your phone. “i built one in d&d beyond! i came prepared, sort of?”

now, jeongin didn’t have much opinion on you other than that you were heeseung’s really hot girlfriend. but, after seeing how you tried to prepare, he could say that he liked you.

once everyone settled down, heeseung resumed the campaign. it amazed you how he was able to switch between all those voices, acting out the npcs of the quest. the way you were staring at him intently made heeseung unusually nervous.

whenever his eyes shifted over to you, his dialogue faltered for a sec before he continued. he interacted with the others of the campaign before coming to a point in the story where you could hop in. you put on a proper english accent, trying to sound as much like arwen from lord of the rings (you watched it countless times with heeseung). if no one else was in the room right now, heeseung would’ve died from your cuteness. a part of him was geeking out right now. his girlfriend, the love of his life, was playing d&d with him. what did he do in his past life to deserve this?

then came the fights. as he narrated, his friends rolled on their turns, fighting against the monsters that heeseung created. when it came to your turn, you looked a bit out of your depth. you were scrolling through moves in the d&d index to see which ones you could do. everyone was thankfully patient with you.

“i use a 3rd level spell slot and call upon lightning to strike the monster closest to jeongin?” you commanded unsurely.

heeseung leaned over, careful to not expose any notes. “baby, you’re gonna hit jeongin with that spell and you gotta reference his character, not him. that spell has a damage radius of 5 feet. the monster is only 3 feet away from him.”

you deflated as you scrolled through your list of spells. you turned your phone to heeseung, showing him the spell you wanted to use instead. “can i use flame arrows instead?”

heeseung could just die from how cute you were. he shook his head and scrolled through your list and clicked on wind wall. “you can use this one and surround the monster. it’ll take bludgeoning damage once the wall forms, regardless of his strength saving throw.”

you nodded and got back into character. you acted as if you were really putting a wind wall up and commanded more confidently. “i erect a wind wall around the monster and separate him from thralladin.”

heeseung got back to dm’ing and rolled his dice, falling short for a saving throw. he took note of the damage and continued everyone else’s turn. the night was fun! heeseung couldn’t believe how quickly you picked it up or how into it you were. at the end of the night, when everyone was leaving, jeongin pulled him aside again. “dude, y/n’s actually cool.”

pride swelled in heeseung’s chest. you managed to get the okay from his friend, not that it really affected how he felt for you. you two said your goodbyes to jeongin and walked home. you were filled with excitement for the next session. “what kind of clothes should i get for illanaria? i’m thinking white robes with some sheer drapes to add a bit of flair. i really need to study up on my spells so i don’t keep wasting time scrolling through the index. should i also get a notebook?”

just when heeseung didn’t think he could fall for you any harder, you proved him wrong.

loser!heeseung has met your parents, but in passing. however, today was a dinner meant to force—he means give a chance (don’t tell y/n he said that)—him to talk to your parents in length.

“don’t be nervous! my mom’s loved you since high school!”

ya, it’s not your mom he’s worried about. your dad on the other hand? what was he even going to talk about with him? football? heeseung could barely understand the sport. home improvement? he always needed your help to build ikea furniture. there wasn’t much he could do to gain some points with your dad. he just prayed that he wouldn’t hate him too much.

after 4 years (you recently celebrated your anniversary!) of being together, heeseung was finally going to talk to your dad. no more small talk while he waits for you to come down. he was actually going to have to make conversation with your father. if his phone didn’t tell him how cold it was, he’d think it was summer with how he was sweating.

the door swung open to reveal your mom, who looked as jovial and vibrant as ever. “kids! come in, come in. it’s freezing out there. that stupid global warming is really messing with the temperature.”

heeseung greeted her warmly, awkwardly accepting her bear hug while balancing the mac n’ cheese in his right hand. she pulled away and gasped. “you brought your famous mac n’ cheese! y/n’s been raving about this ever since she had it. i can’t wait to try it!”

when she rushed off to set it on the dinner table, your dad appeared with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. he peered up at heeseung, since heeseung was slightly taller, and stared at him for a moment.

“so… you brought mac n’ cheese,” your dad said plainly.

heeseung laughed nervously. “i hope that’s okay?”

when your dad didn’t say anything for a second, you slapped his chest. “dad, stop intimidating him!”

your dad cracked a smile before ruffling your hair. “alright, sweetheart.” he clapped heeseung on the back and grinned. “i love mac n’ cheese! dinner’s almost ready, so make yourself feel at home!”

wow, he was a lot less intimidating than heeseung remembered. he thought back to all those moments in high school and wondered if your dad was just pretending to be stoic. your dad guided him to the dinner table before entering the kitchen again. as he moved around, your mom leaned forward. “so, heeseung, when are you going to ask my daughter to marry you?”

you choked on your water, water spraying out of the side of your mouth. heeseung quickly offered you a napkin and patted you on the back. you wiped your mouth and glared at your mom. “mom, that is not one of the preapproved questions. actually, i explicitly said you and dad can’t bring up anything about marriage.”

your mom tsked and pouted. “honey, you’ve been dating for so long. it’s a natural question.”

before you could protest, your dad brought over the rack of lamb, fresh from the oven. he placed it in the center and took off his gloves, kissing the top of your head afterwards. “your mother is just excited to have a son-in-law that can cook. you talk about him all the time. sue her for being curious.”

you talked about him with your parents? you glared up at your dad. “we haven’t even talked about that yet. i wonder why? oh ya, because we’re still in college!”

your dad raised his arms in surrender. “hey, i asked your mom to marry me when we were 16.”

“to which i said no,” your mom playfully jabbed. “we were far too young.”

“we’re also too young,” you grumbled, leaning into heeseung’s side. he wrapped his arms around your shoulder. he hoped your parents didn’t look at him too closely. his blush was probably covering his whole face. he didn’t realize your parents were also high school sweethearts.

“you also rejected dad until you were in college, anyway,” you added, clasping your hand with heeseung’s. ah, so not high school sweethearts.

when your dad settled beside your mom, she patted him on the chest. “he wasn’t always the hunk you see now.”

“okay, that was gross. can we eat now?” you groaned. your dad started making a plate and handed it to your mom. heeseung should also probably do this for you. he pulled away from you and started making your plate, avoiding the deviled eggs and piling on the mac n’ cheese. when he placed it down in front of you, your dad raised his eyebrow. “you still avoiding deviled eggs?”

you brought your plate closer to you, waiting to eat until heeseung had his plate. you stuck your tongue out at your dad. “i don’t when hee makes them.”

your dad looked at heeseung with a surprised look. “you made her eat deviled eggs?”

“i just added miso and switched the regular mayo out for the japanese one,” heeseung sheepishly laughed. “she seemed to enjoy them.”

a boisterous laugh escaped your dad as he leaned his head back. when he caught his breath, he gave heeseung an approving nod. “good on you, man.”

the rest of the dinner went smoothly, and heeseung felt himself relaxing. your dad wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he thought. they easily bonded over cooking and how the women in their life shouldn’t have to lift their pretty little fingers if they didn’t want to. heeseung felt relieved. your dad seemed to like him, especially after you telling him how much heeseung takes care of you.

by the end of it, your dad was inviting him back over—without you. “you should come over and we can workshop a course menu for the girls.”

heeseung grinned, promising to come back soon. you said your goodbyes and drove home. on the drive, you kissed your intertwined hands. “thanks for doing that.”

heeseung shook his head. “it’s no problem. i’m glad i got to talk to your parents.”

“nothing to worry about, right? they really like you,” you teased. “they even want you to marry me so they can trap you forever.”

heeseung hummed. he’d gladly be “trapped” by your parents if it meant calling you his wife. should he go ring shopping? he didn’t have money for that right now. maybe once he gets his return offer. he could at least scroll on through websites.

“good thing i already do wanna marry you.”

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! you can now leave requests!

#enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: headcanons #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 #anon 〠

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yanderelovebites · 2 days ago

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Back with batsis stuff and kinda wanna do the whole isekai thing. Have reader meet their end somehow and wake up in a fanfic that was never finished of a neglected batsis. Have them wake up at the incident that made them get sent over to Bruce.

Have the original girl’s memories and knowing already they didn’t like her, didn’t want her, etc. she decided to just live for herself and future. Girlie went with her father who gave her that initial attention but after that she was taken to her room. She’s six. Have her give that grieving period of two weeks where she just got used to the room and the manor before she started asking for things. It’ll be probably one form of martial arts and later on probably also either music or dance. When she isn’t doing either of those things she sketching in her book and she’s actually really good.

Have her be closest with Alfred but still keep a certain wall up against him just like the others. Have her be a few months older than Damian and Damian isn’t quite in the picture yet. She ignores when the others are in the house despite being a part of said home. She only looks for her father for school needs and while still keeping her distance will set birth cards and Father’s Day cards on his desk in the study. She never hands them to him so she doesn’t know what he does with them nor does she care.

If the character she is reborn as is meant to be neglected, why should she bother trying to reach out?

She eventually had no choice but to meet Jason because he was there… they didn’t know how to explain to her why red hood is there. She simply said “Hello, I would chat but I have Jujitsu in 20 so I have to leave. Nice meeting you.” It was concerning how she brushed it off. Of course she realizes after ‘oh none of them would know I know… nah I’ll just continue on. Who knows, it might bother them!’

By the time Damian gets there, she’s been through karate, jujitsu, and only a year of Taekwondo while also taking dancing/music lessons. She has won art competitions but only Alfred has ever seen or heard. Bruce may have heard but he barely listened to the announcement of it. He knows from a portrait she was forced to sit for with Bruce, Tim, and Dick, she exists. Yet, it takes a week for him to ever see her.

He asks questions like in the original, but what batsis reader doesn’t understand is she changed how Damian sees her since she wasn’t immediately clingy to anyone. Dick TRIES to remember anything and realizes he doesn’t really know her. Tim can’t really tell him anything either other than medical records in case anything happens. Literally all Tim gave Damian was that Damian and batsis have the say blood type. They realize they really don’t know batsis which does unnerve them. All they can say is she stays to herself. That both irritates Damian and intrigued him. He tries Alfred next who is able to at least tell him what she does routinely at least. How she’s been in martial arts after her first two weeks living here, implied she was grieving, and she’s also been in music/dance lessons as well. Also explains she enjoys participating in art contests. He goes on about her being an A+ student and explains she doesn’t interact much with the rest of the family. He even says “To be honest, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one she talks to in any capacity that isn’t out of necessity.”

Jason pretty much only knew about one of the martial arts being jujitsu. He explains she didn’t seem phased that red hood had entered her home and that she didn’t know about the Batman secret.

He doesn’t immediately approach her either. He doesn’t have all the information he needs. All he knows is she’s his half sibling, her usual activities, at least one of the forms of martial arts she knows, and that otherwise she’s a bit of a mystery. Eventually they’re forced to eat at a family dinner together. Since it really bothered Dick that he didn’t know anything he starts asking her about school. No one ever asked her questions, half the time they act like she isn’t there, so she’s confused, but politely says it’s been fine. Talks briefly about her classes, the mention of what classes she’s currently taking makes Tim and Dick shocked. For Tim it’s simply the fact that *she* was taking them and for Dick it’s the fact someone her age was taking such advance classes. Tim coughed and asked her what she did after school on Friday, mostly to hear anything else and she’s like “Oh just another art competition. I placed first with my painting.” She says and continues eating.

Bruce honestly is trying to process what he heard and saw and Damian treats it as a way to analyze her. The way she eats, the way she talks, her posture, and of course the tiny bits the boys were getting out. She then says “I’m sure Alfred has already told you about that, however, right father?” He coughs for a moment and nods as to hide the fact he himself has been caught off guard. For Damian she isn’t like a role model for what he’s grown up with, it’s more she’s a role model for what a Wayne is. She’s perfect in all things you’d expect the public to see a Wayne for. Knows arts, has some martial arts background, and has a certain air of modesty yet wealthy around her.

This attention to her is still brief at this time for Tim, Dick, and Bruce. They ask if she’s met Damian and she says “Not really, at best some glances. I’m always moving after all.” That dinner felt awkward, but Damian decided she wasn’t Particularly a threat…

And by all things holy it annoys the crap out of Tim. He actually tries to speak to her—which she is cautious at first because she knows what he did to the original Batsis. Instead of drawing his sword on her, he asked about her martial arts since that’s really all he can… talk about with her… and the part that annoys Tim on it… is simply he won’t shut up about her-

And he thought when Damian called himself the blood son was annoying! Now it’s ’blood sibling’ this and that if bringing her up in conversation occurs. It’s clear he respects her in such annoying ways.

I just imagine the Yandere Batfam doesn’t all happen at once. It starts with Damian. You don’t see it at first because you blame his upbringing. He’s stuck to your side during banquets as much as he despises them. He mirrors some of your ‘mask’ etiquette in that all the Wayne’s have an image. You kept yours on as rock solid as possible, you are not the same person. He can tell you must have some inspiration from your father as yours is a rather innocent persona. You act like a social butterfly amongst the people and seem so damn sweet. He just doesn’t like how many eyes are on you. You acted like you couldn’t feel it, but it’s hard to ignore Damian. In fact, it accidentally wentinti his persona as people saw him as a clingy little brother to his slightly older sister. That it just made ‘sense’ since you two are so close in age.

Damian would just get worse as time went on. It’s get to the point you realize he isn’t faking or anything he actually just likes you. Then you get kidnapped.

I imagine no one but Alfred and Damian realize something is wrong. He’s the reason they find you and he nearly kills the guy who kidnapped you. Of course it’s not like you just let them take you, there was evidence even before they were brought to an inch of their life. You hadn’t made it easy and they could tell you had injured them beforehand. However they had broken your legs and that’s when I’d get worse for Damian and start in Bruce.

I might add more thoughts later I dunno it’s kind of an idea dump

#batfam neglect #batfam x batsis #batman #batsis!reader #yandere batfam #batsis #yandere #damian wayne

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ducktoo · 3 days ago

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Choose

Kim Minju x Reader

Note: first 2025 fic legggo! Miss seeing Minju around TT

Kim Minju

The name was practically a brand on its own. She wasn’t just a household name—she was the household name.

Not just in South Korea, but globally—a star whose name was synonymous with elegance, talent, and quiet determination. From her humble beginnings as an idol in a popular girl group to her meteoric rise as an actress, she’d built a career others could only dream of.

Critics raved about her ability to convey raw emotion in dramas that consistently topped ratings, and audiences adored her versatility on the big screen. Whether she was playing a fiery prosecutor in a courtroom thriller or a broken-hearted artist in an indie romance, Minju brought every character to life with a grace that felt effortless.

But behind the glitz and glamour, the award shows and flashing cameras, was a woman who hated doing the dishes and could never fold her laundry properly.

That’s where you came in.

The first time you met Minju, she wasn’t the polished actress everyone else saw. She was a frazzled young woman who had just moved into her first apartment after leaving her group, staring hopelessly at a mountain of cardboard boxes. You had been the part-timer hired by her agency to help her unpack and organize things for a day.

“Hi…I’m Minju,” she’d said with an awkward smile, wearing sweatpants and a messy bun. “I’m really bad at this sort of thing, so... please don’t judge me.”

You’d laughed, her candidness catching you off guard. “Pfff… no judgement…maybe. Just tell me where you want everything.”

One day turned into a week, then a month. By the time she’d landed her breakout role, you’d somehow become a permanent fixture in her life. Officially, you were her house helper—a job that involved cooking, cleaning, and occasionally wrangling her into her hectic schedules. Unofficially, you were her confidant, her sounding board, and her backup alarm clock when she hit snooze too many times.

It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was steady, and it let you witness a side of Minju no one else saw. The Minju who ate ramen straight out of the pot at 3 a.m., who cried over cheesy romance movies, and who practiced her lines in front of the bathroom mirror with more passion than she ever showed on set.

Although…you weren’t sure when your job title had expanded to include helping her choose a husband.

“Y/n, do you think this looks good on me?”

Her voice drifts from the walk-in closet, soft yet commanding, the kind of tone that doesn’t allow for a half-hearted response. You glance up from the laundry pile you’ve been folding for the past twenty minutes, catching sight of Minju stepping into the room in a pale blue dress.

It fits her perfectly, accentuating her delicate frame without being overly flashy. If anything, the dress looks like it was made for her. But you’ve learned to temper your words around her. Minju doesn’t need flattery—she needs honesty.

“It looks…good,” you say simply, folding another shirt with mechanical precision.

She frowns, turning back to the mirror. “Just good?”

You pause, trying not to sigh. “Fine…It looks great. You could wear a potato sack and still outshine half the world.”

Minju’s lips curve into a small smile, but it fades quickly as she smooths the fabric over her hips. “It’s not about outshining anyone, Y/n. I need to look like someone who’s ready to settle down. Someone... wife-like.”

"Pff…his clothes won't be folded anytime soon."

"Yaaaaaa" Minju whined, but the tone remains light.

Despite the teasing, the word wife hangs in the air between you, heavy and unspoken. You focus on the shirt in your hands, folding it once, then twice, before placing it neatly on the pile.

“I think you’re overthinking it,” you say, your voice steady despite the subtle tension building in your chest. “If a guy can’t see you are wife material, that’s on him, not your dress.”

Her head turns sharply, eyes narrowing. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being paraded around like a prize at an auction.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” you reply, finally meeting her gaze.

“Is it?” she shoots back, her hands planted firmly on her hips now. “I’ve got a dinner tomorrow with some CEO my manager thinks is perfect for me. Perfect age, perfect background, perfect everything. But do you know what’s not perfect?”

“Your minju ga tto moments?” you suggest, unable to resist a smirk.

“You,” she huffs, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it effortlessly, placing it on top of the laundry pile as if it belongs there.

“You’re the worst house helper ever” she mutters, but there’s no venom in her tone.

“I’m your only house helper,” you correct, standing and stretching your arms over your head. “And I’d argue I’m doing a pretty decent job.”

“Debatable,” she mumbles, turning back to the mirror. She’s quiet for a moment, her reflection deep in thought. Then, as if deciding something monumental, she spins back around.

“You’re coming with me tomorrow.”

You blink. “…What the f*ck?”

“To the dinner. You’re coming with me,” she repeats, crossing her arms like it’s already decided.

“Minju, I think you’re confusing me with your manager—”

“No, I’m not.” Her voice softens, but her eyes stay locked on yours. “I need someone there who’ll actually tell me what they think. Someone who’s not afraid to call out nonsense when they see it.”

“Right. And…you’re asking me?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not exactly the type to blend in with high society,” you point out, gesturing to your worn-out hoodie and jeans. “They’ll take one look at me and think you brought your assistant as a pity date.”

“First of all, you don’t look that bad,” she says, her lips twitching in amusement. “And second, I don’t care what they think. You’ll just sit there, eat your food, and occasionally tell me if the guy is worth my time.”

You open your mouth to protest again, but the determination in her eyes stops you. She’s already made up her mind.

“Fine,” you relent, leaning back against the couch. “But I'm sitting nearby, not at your table."

"Nope." Minju demanded. Her lips loudly popped the 'p'. "You're sitting with me, hon."

You could only sighed at her antics. "…don’t blame me if I scare him off.”

Her smile returns, small but genuine. “That’s exactly why I’m bringing you.”

The restaurant feels like a different universe, the kind of place where the chandeliers probably cost more than your yearly rent. As you step inside, you’re painfully aware of how out of place you look, despite Minju’s efforts to make you “presentable.”

The tailored suit she picked out for you fits fine, but the collar feels like it’s choking you, and the tie might as well be a noose. You tug at it instinctively, only to have Minju swat your hand away.

“Stop fidgeting,” she whispers, her voice low but firm.

“Ya, it feels like I’m wearing a straightjacket,” you mutter under your breath, glancing around at the other patrons. Everyone looks like they stepped out of a luxury magazine, and you feel like an impostor sneaking into their world.

Minju sighs, looping her arm through yours as she steers you toward the table. “You’re fine. Just... don’t embarrass me.”

“That’s a tall order,” you joke, earning a glare that makes you straighten up immediately.

As you approach the table, the man—Jae, or whatever his name was—stands to greet her. His suit is sharp, his smile even sharper, and he exudes the kind of confidence that comes from always being the most important person in the room.

Minju is poised as always, but you can tell she’s studying him with the precision of someone trained to spot subtleties. Her eyes flick to his tailored suit—dark, impeccably fitted, clearly custom-made. His watch glints under the low lighting, its sleek design screaming exclusivity. She notices how his shoes are polished to a mirror shine, a detail she quietly admires, though it’s more the habit of presentation than the man himself that earns her approval.

Her gaze lingers on his face for a moment longer. He’s conventionally handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline so chiseled it seems engineered. His skin is flawless, either naturally or through an aggressive skincare regimen, and his neatly styled hair has the kind of sheen that comes from salon-grade products.

But it’s his smile that makes her hesitate. It’s too practiced, too polished. The way his lips curve feels less like an expression of genuine emotion and more like a calculated performance. Minju can’t quite put her finger on it, but something about him feels... rehearsed.

“Minju,” he says, his voice smooth, “you’re even more stunning than I imagined.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Great start, mister.

Minju smiles politely. “Thank you. This is Y/n, my house helper and friend.”

Jae’s gaze flickers to you, and his smile tightens ever so slightly. “Ah, I see.”

You shake his hand, trying not to let his patronizing tone get under your skin. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” he replies, though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean it.

You sit down, carefully unfolding your napkin and placing it on your lap like Minju instructed. It’s a small gesture, but it feels absurdly formal. The waiter arrives almost immediately to take your drink orders, and Jae doesn’t even glance at the menu before ordering an expensive bottle of wine.

“Water’s fine for me,” you say, earning a subtle nudge from Minju under the table.

As the evening progresses, you can’t help but feel like a fish out of water. The silverware is arranged in a way that makes no sense to you, and you’re pretty sure you’ve been holding your fork wrong the entire time.

Jae, on the other hand, seems completely at ease, dominating the conversation with tales of his business ventures and luxury vacations.

“And of course,” Jae says, swirling his wine glass like he’s performing for an invisible audience, “I make it a point to give back. Philanthropy is very important to me.”

“That’s wonderful,” Minju says, her voice even.

You nod along, keeping your expression neutral even though every word out of his mouth makes you want to groan.

“So, Y/n,” Jae says suddenly, turning his attention to you for the first time all night. “What do you do besides housekeeping?”

“I’m Minju’s househelper…just housekeeper yeah.” you reply, keeping your tone polite.

He nods slowly, his smile almost condescending. “That’s... noble. It must be fulfilling to work for someone like her.”

“It is,” you say simply, ignoring the way his words make your stomach twist. "She's a good person to work for…"

Minju shifts uncomfortably, clearly picking up on the tension. “Y/n isn’t just my househelper,” she says, her tone sharp. “They’ve been with me for years. I trust them more than anyone.”

Her words catch you off guard, and you glance at her, surprised. There’s a sincerity in her voice that makes your chest tighten.

Jae, however, seems unfazed. “Of course,” he says smoothly. “Loyalty is such a rare quality these days.”

As he speaks, his voice is smooth, his words carefully measured to sound charming without crossing into arrogance. She notices how he holds her gaze just long enough to seem interested but shifts his focus to his wine glass in a way that feels almost dismissive. It’s subtle, but Minju catches it.

She always catches the subtleties.

Still, she plays along. She smiles when he compliments her, nods when he launches into a monologue about his career—something to do with technology and blockchain, and asks polite questions to keep the conversation flowing. But every now and then, her gaze drifts to you. You’re sitting stiffly, your hands clasped in your lap, your eyes darting between the silverware and your plate like you’re trying to decode a secret message.

“And of course, we’re always looking for ways to innovate,” Jae says, swirling his wine like he’s in a movie. “The future is all about disruption.”

“Disruption?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds... interesting.”

Jae chuckles, a sound that grates on your nerves. “Yes, yes! It’s about breaking the norms, you know? Creating new opportunities.”

“Right,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Like disrupting this conversation with a sales pitch?”

Minju chokes on her sip of wine, quickly covering her mouth with a napkin. Jae’s smile falters for a moment before he recovers.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a sales pitch,” he says, forcing a laugh. “I’m just passionate about what I do.”

“I can see that,” you reply, your tone flat.

Minju shoots you a warning look, but there’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes. You force a smile, resisting the urge to continue your sarcastic run.

For Minju’s sake, you bite your tongue and focus on the plate in front of you.

The meal itself is exquisite, but you’re too preoccupied to enjoy it. Every detail of the restaurant—from the pristine tablecloths to the hushed murmurs of other diners—feels like a reminder that you don’t belong here. But every time you catch Minju glancing at you, her expression soft with gratitude, it feels worth it.

She’s trying to hide her discomfort with Jae when she turned her attention back to him, but you can see it in the way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. And that’s enough to keep you on your best behaviour, no matter how much you want to call him out on his smugness.

When Jae leans in to comment on the wine selection, Minju notes the way his cologne—a sophisticated, woody scent—lingers in the air. It’s pleasant, but it doesn’t linger with her the way simpler, more familiar things do. Like the faint scent of laundry detergent you carry when you come in from running errands, or the sharp tang of cleaning supplies after you’ve wiped down the counters.

She glances at him again, taking in the way he gestures with his hands—broad, sweeping movements that seem designed to command attention. He’s polished, no doubt about that. But Minju’s gut tells her that beneath the polish, there’s something... hollow.

By the time dessert arrives, you’ve somehow managed to keep your composure. Minju excuses herself to the restroom, leaving you alone with Jae.

“So,” he says, swirling the last of his wine, “you must see a lot, working for Minju. I imagine it’s quite the experience.”

“It is,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You’re lucky, you know. Not many people get to be so close to someone like her.”

Your grip on your fork tightens, but you force a smile. “You’re right. I am lucky.”

Minju returns moments later, her presence immediately easing the tension. She glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” you say, standing to help her with her chair. “Just perfect.”

As the evening progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that Jae is more interested in talking about himself than getting to know Minju. He interrupts her stories to share his own, checks his phone under the table, and even orders dessert without asking if she wanted any.

“Minju,” he says at one point, leaning forward with what you’re sure he thinks is a charming smile, “I have to say, you’re even more beautiful in person than you are on screen.”

“Thank you,” she replies, her smile tight.

“And I’m sure someone like you must have a very busy schedule,” he continues. “But if we were together, I’d make sure you had time to relax. Maybe even a vacation. The private villa I mentioned would be perf-”

“Excuse me, but what’s your favourite film of hers?” you interrupt, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Jae blinks, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been talking about how amazing Minju is,” you say, folding your arms on the table, “so I’m curious. What’s your favourite film of hers?”

Minju turns to you, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Well, uh...” Jae stammers, clearly scrambling. “There are so many great ones, it’s hard to choose.”

“Come on, Just pick one,” you press, leaning in slightly.

He clears his throat, his confidence wavering. “I think the one where she plays that, uh, spy? You know, the action movie.”

Minju tilts her head. “I’ve…never played a spy.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

“Oh, right,” Jae says quickly, laughing nervously. “I must’ve been thinking of someone else.”

You sit back, biting back a laugh. “Right, understandable. That's…a good suggestion for her next role.”

Minju also bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

By the time you leave the restaurant, Jae’s enthusiasm has dwindled significantly. He bids Minju a somewhat awkward goodbye, promising to call, though you suspect she won’t answer.

Back at the house, Minju lets out a heavy sigh, kicking off her heels and tossing them unceremoniously by the door. “Well, that was a disaster,” she groans, plopping onto the couch with an exaggerated huff.

“You’re welcome,” you reply dryly, loosening the tie she forced you into. The thing’s been choking you all evening, but at least the dinner’s over. "Far out, this is choking me."

She shoots you a glare, though it lacks any real bite. “You didn’t have to roast the guy alive.”

“What? I was just asking innocent questions,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you loosen another button on your shirt. “If he can’t even name one of your works, he’s not worth your time.”

Minju groans again, pulling a throw pillow into her lap. “Maybe I’m just not meant to find someone. This is the fifth disaster in a row.”

The vulnerability in her voice makes your chest ache. You look over at her, noticing the way her shoulders slump and how she’s hugging the pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Aish, you’ll find someone,” you say quietly, trying to sound reassuring but feeling like your words are hollow. “It’s not like you’re in a rush, right?”

She turns to you, her expression unreadable. “What if I’ve already found them?”

You blink. “What? Who? I kept track and you crossed all of them.”

“Well what if…the person I’ve been looking for has been here all along?” she says, her voice soft but steady, her gaze locked onto yours.

"Minju," you repeat, but it comes out like a plea. "The heck you're saying?"

She sits up, crossing her legs beneath her, and shifts closer to you. The pillow falls forgotten onto the floor as she leans in, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"Why do you think I’ve been dragging you to these dinners?" she asks softly.

"Uh…" You blink again, trying to piece together her meaning. "…Because you wanted my opinion on these guys?"

She shakes her head, a small, almost rueful smile tugging at her lips. "No, stupid. Because I wanted you to tell me they weren’t good enough for me. I wanted you to realize that no one else could ever measure up to you."

Your brain screeches to a halt. You can feel your face heating up, the familiar panic rising in your chest. “Uh... sure, yeah,” you stammer, scratching the back of your neck. “I-I mean, you’ve got me and all, but I don’t think I’d make a great husband. I can’t even fold fitted sheets properly.”

“Y/n, I’m serious.”

“Right, serious.” You laugh nervously, trying to deflect. “Well, you know what they say, the best relationships start with someone who knows how to fix your coffee machine when it breaks—”

“Jung Y/n.”

Her voice is firm this time, and it stops your rambling dead in its tracks. She shifts closer, her hand reaching out to rest on top of yours. The warmth of her touch sends a jolt through you, and you freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Kim Minju,” you say, your voice cracking slightly as you clear your throat. “You’re tired. It’s been a long day. Maybe sleep on this whole ‘husband-hunting’ thing, and tomorrow you’ll realize it was just—”

“It’s not ‘just.’” Her grip tightens, her eyes glistening with something you can’t quite name. “You’ve always been here for me. You know me better than anyone else, and you make me feel... safe. Like I don’t have to pretend to be anything other than myself.”

You swallow hard, feeling like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. “Minju, I... Look, you deserve someone who can give you the world. I’m just your househelper. The person who unclogs your sink when it’s backed up with hair.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “You’re more than that, and you know it.”

“Do I?” you blurt out, your voice louder than intended. “Because honestly, I’ve been trying to keep my distance for ages. You’re—you’re Kim Minju. Successful, gorgeous, amazing Minju. And me? I’m just—”

“Mine,” she interrupts, her voice barely a whisper.

That one word makes your entire argument crumble. You sit there, stunned, as she inches closer, her eyes searching yours.

"…Fair move, damn it." You muttered, ignoring the rapid beating of your hearts and the continuous butterfly in your stomach.

“So…are you really going to make me spell it out?” she teases, though her voice is laced with emotion.

You let out a nervous laugh, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Well, I do like it when people are straightforward, so maybe a—”

Her lips meet yours before you can finish your sentence. It’s soft, tentative, and completely disarming. Your mind goes blank, every sarcastic comeback dying on your tongue.

When she pulls away, her cheeks are flushed, but her eyes are steady. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I—uh—” You blink rapidly, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Yeah, no big deal. Happens all the time. People confess their undying love to their house helpers every day.”

Minju giggles, leaning her forehead against yours. “You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, but you’re still here,” you mutter, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Always,” she whispers.

Her fingers lace with yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself believe. You let yourself hope. Because the real one wasn’t someone Minju needed to find—it was someone who had always been beside her, waiting.

And now, finally, she’s chosen you.

#izone fluff #izone x reader #minju #kim minju #minju x reader #izone minju #x reader #kim minju x reader

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ka1rin · 3 days ago

Text

Blue Lock Romantic Tropes

isagi, kaiser, sae, rin, reo, nagi x reader (separate)

word count: 1.1k , genre: romance / fluff

note: this story is about what romantic trope would suit these Blue Lock characters. I hope you guys love this!

Isagi Yoichi — Childhood Friends

Yoichi Isagi had always been head over heels for her—though he didn’t realize it until it was almost too late. She’d been his best friend for as long as he could remember. She was the one who stayed after practice to kick a ball around when no one else would, the one who always seemed to know exactly what to say after a tough game.

But lately, everything felt different. He couldn’t stop noticing the way her hair caught the sunlight or the way her laughter softened the edges of a bad day. He wasn’t sure when it started, but he knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t just his best friend anymore.

They walked home together like always, her voice filling the air with stories about her day. Isagi barely heard a word. His mind was somewhere else, lost in thoughts he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

When they reached her street, she stopped and turned to face him. “You’re quieter than usual. What’s up?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. “Do you ever think about the future?”

Her brow furrowed. “Sure. Why?”

“I mean… us,” he said softly, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “Do you ever think about where we’ll end up?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. “What are you trying to say, Yoichi?”

“I think—no, I know—I want you in my future,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as my best friend, but as… something more.”

Michael Kaiser — Enemies to Lovers

Michael Kaiser had never believed in losing. In his mind, every match, every argument, every moment in life was a game to be won. That’s why she infuriated him so much. She wasn’t interested in playing by his rules.

From the moment they met, she challenged him—both on and off the field. She had a knack for seeing through his façade, stripping away the charm he used so effortlessly on everyone else. At first, he hated it. Then he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

One evening, after yet another clash on the pitch, he found her sitting alone in the stands. The moonlight caught the curve of her profile, making her look softer than he was used to seeing.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.

“Maybe I’m trying to figure you out,” he replied, sliding onto the bench beside her.

“You won’t,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re not as good at reading people as you think.”

Kaiser smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “And you’re not as immune to me as you pretend to be.”

Her lips twitched, but she said nothing.

For the first time, Kaiser felt like this wasn’t a game he could win—or one he wanted to.

Sae Itoshi — Second Chance

Sae Itoshi had always been good at letting go. Whether it was friends, family, or teammates, he had a way of detaching himself from people, of moving forward without looking back.

But she was different.

She’d been his calm in the storm, the person who grounded him when the pressure of his career threatened to swallow him whole. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on her until the day he walked away, convincing himself it was for the best.

Now, years later, she stood before him at the airport, looking as composed as ever. His pulse quickened at the sight of her, and for the first time in a long while, Sae felt unsure of himself.

“You’ve changed,” she said softly, studying him like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“Not enough,” he admitted, his voice steady but quiet.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she glanced away. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I couldn’t stay away,” he confessed. “Because letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Rin Itoshi — Sun and Moon

Rin Itoshi didn’t believe in distractions. He’d built his life around focus and discipline, shutting out anything that might interfere with his pursuit of perfection.

Then she came along.

She was everything he wasn’t—bright, cheerful, and completely unafraid to push her way into his life. At first, Rin had found her presence irritating, but over time, he started to notice the small things: the way she always brought him water during practice, the way her laughter filled the empty spaces of his world.

One afternoon, as they sat in the park, she turned to him with a mischievous grin. “You should smile more, you know. It’s not illegal.”

He frowned, looking away. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it suits you,” she said simply, leaning back against the bench.

Rin’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t know how to explain that smiling felt foreign to him—except when she was around.

Reo Mikage — Unrequited Love

Reo Mikage had always been drawn to her. She was different from everyone else in his life, uninterested in his money or his status. She treated him like an equal, never hesitating to call him out when he deserved it.

He’d fallen for her quietly, keeping his feelings to himself out of fear that she’d never see him the way he saw her. Still, he stayed by her side, always there when she needed him, hoping one day she might look at him differently.

One evening, as they sat together in a quiet café, she broke the silence. “Reo, why are you always here for me?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’ve never asked for anything in return,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Why?”

Reo hesitated, his heart pounding. “Because you’re important to me. That’s all.”

Her gaze lingered on him, and for the first time, he thought he saw something shift in her eyes.

Nagi Seishiro — Forced Proximity

Seishiro Nagi didn’t like effort. He preferred simplicity, staying in his comfort zone, and avoiding anything that felt like too much work.

So when she moved into his apartment as his new roommate, he wasn’t thrilled. She was loud, messy, and always finding ways to drag him into her whirlwind of energy. At first, he counted the days until she’d leave. But as time passed, he started to notice the way her laughter brightened the dull moments, the way she always made sure he had dinner even if she didn’t cook for herself.

One night, as they sat on the floor eating instant ramen, she looked over at him and smiled. “You’re not so bad to live with, you know.”

Nagi shrugged, his usual indifference masking the warmth spreading through his chest. “You’re okay too, I guess.”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Wow, such high praise.”

He glanced at her, his voice softer than usual. “I mean it. I don’t mind you being here.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, Nagi felt like that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

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annabelle--cane · 2 days ago

Note

i wasn’t here when tma reached the height of its popularity (i only joined last year) so could you describe the Vibes (how bad the drama was, did it feel like there were too many people, etc.)

only if you want to :]

I've said this before, so this may be a familiar spiel to longer term followers, but 2020 tma fandom was honestly not the worst fandom I've ever been in, it was just by far the biggest thing I have ever been actively into at peak popularity and so the 1% of insane people that are found in every fan space were 1% of a much bigger total population. most people were fine and chill, but there were a vocal minority who Weren't.

major ingredients in the discourse pot:

from my observations, tma had a small but devoted listener base for its first few years, then it got a little bump in mid 2018, then a considerable bump in late 2019, then hit proper virality in early 2020, so there were a lot of people with hipster complexes about being Real Fans who were there first and weren't just part of the masses.

at this point I'm not even sure if this part was true, but the above was compounded by the perception that the earlier og listener base were mostly adults and the new wave of fans were mostly tweens and teens. whether the different waves actually fell along those age lines or not, a lot of people felt like the fandom was split into 80% Cringe Zoomers Who Are Here For Ships And Memes and 20% Millennials and Gen X'ers With Media Literacy Who Are Here For Horror. nice dichotomy, idiot, now what lies outside it, etc and such and such. our blessed fandom etiquette vs their barbarous dni lists.

which isn't to say that suddenly having a huge number of people, including young people, become interested in a single piece of media at a time of global stress where everyone had to be much more online and the content of the media itself was at its darkest and most socially relevant had no downsides. oh no. Oh No.

"my headcanon is not only objectively the best headcanon but it actually invalidates all of yours and if you hc something different then it's an act of bigotry against my Correct Headcanon." / "I have drawn up a list of Good Characters you have to like and aren't allowed to criticize and a list of Bad Characters you have to hate and can't acknowledge exist unless it's to make fun of and completely condemn them." / "I saw her username in the kudos of a jonelias fic" "girl what were YOU doing in the kudos of a jonelias fic" / "this latest episode handled a social issue unforgivably badly, I haven't experienced it myself but the vibes were off, everyone demand accountability and boycott the rest of the show" "hey that one was actually based on jonny's personal experiences" "ah fuck not again. well boys let's remember this for next time. this latest epis--"

honestly most of the discourse was down to like two or three friend groups. there was one group of people who you will probably remember if you were there at the time whom I have sometimes seen referred to as the Clown Gang. Clown Gang were ground zero for a good 90% of fan discourse ("hcing melanie as ace is ableist and lesbophobic" "fan content that focuses on jon's asexuality is biphobic. what's pansexuality I've never heard of it." "desolation tim aus are inherently ableist and racist"), but eventually they had a big falling out with Clown Prime and things calmed down. to be very clear I hold no ill will towards any of these people for four year old bad takes, hence why I'm not using any names, but god was it a time.

and this is only about the tumblr side of things. I was barely active of twitter so idk what it was like there but I was on tiktok for about a year during that time and the vibes were wildly different. iirc people there were less confrontational and there wasn't really a callout culture like on tumblr, but the extremes of the takes were FAR worse.

#tma #answered #anons

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burningembers91 · 2 days ago

Text

Gunpowder and Lace - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare

Synopsis: Determined to level the playing field, you take The Salesman to places he's never been

A/N: I honestly don't know who i become when i write for this man, this piece is unhinged and i regret nothing. I also know this character never has his real name revealed, but for the purposes of the storyline, I had to make one up.

This fic is also inspired by the insanity that is this gif:

He was desperate to be back in control. That night in the restaurant had taken him by surprise, had left his mind reeling. You’d left him lying there on the floor like yesterday’s trash, saying goodbye without a second glance back at him. You’d humiliated him, left him to clean himself up and hastily pay the bill before he was found naked on the floor, shaking from pleasure and rage. No one had treated him like this before, no had ever been this bold before. The women he’d played with in the past, they’d always been scared him; but not you. You seemed to enjoy this torture, seemed to enjoy being pushed. He was sure the meal would break you, but it only seemed to make you stronger.

He was so desperate to regain control that he almost didn’t notice that he was losing it entirely. He’d never invited anyone to his home before, and the day after your meal together he turned up at your apartment to bring you over. He’d tried to convince himself that it would be easier to have you under his control if he had you somewhere he was familiar with, but he was fooling himself. He’d given up sitting out on the park bench now, his desire to be with you far outweighing his desire to watch you like a predator watches its prey. You no longer went to the coffee shop either, instead marking your student’s work at his home. He had tried to convince himself that it was another way to keep you in line, to keep you away from a world where you could wonder away from him at any time. But you seemed to enjoy being in his home, stretched out on his sofa as your worked, acting as if he didn’t exist. He wanted to be angry with you, but he couldn’t. He wondered if he was somehow broken. The aloofness he had once possessed was gone around you. He found himself seeking your attention, trying to distract you while you worked. But you never rose to the bait, never gave him the satisfaction he so desperately craved. One evening, as you worked late into the night on a presentation, he’d grown tired of waiting for you.

“I’m busy,” you told him, when he came searching for your touch. Your words felt like a slap, a punch in his gut that left him floored. “You’re getting awfully mouthy with me,” he snapped back. He could feel himself losing him cool; why weren’t you scared of him? Why were you so unfazed by him? Was he losing his touch? Perhaps he wasn’t enough for you anymore. That last thought scared him, and he wasn’t used to being scared. He ended up on his knees in front of you, his tongue lapping desperate circles around the sensitive nub of your clit. The moans he elicited from you were heavenly, his fingers working your soft, tight core. Your thighs tightened around his face as you came, your cries of pleasure echoing off his expansive walls. He was sure he’d got your attention, was sure you wouldn’t be able to resist him, but you went right back to your work, leaving him on his knees like a dog.

You knew exactly what you were doing, of course. You didn’t like acting so cold towards him, but you were tired of knowing nothing about him when he knew so much about you. You were intrigued, if a little shocked, when he invited you into his home but could find nothing that would give you any clue as to who this man was. You could feel your lust turning into something more, but you didn’t even know his name, and it was beginning to drive you crazy. You decided to try and beat him at his own game, to try and push him like he pushed you. You hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the steak incident; you’d been sick for days after, but something kept you coming back. You recognised the feelings you were beginning to have for him, but you couldn’t fully allow yourself to break down the walls. All relationships needed an equal amount of giving and taking though, and it was time he learned that.

“Tell me your name,” you whispered one night, your nails dragging down his chest and torso as he writhed against his mattress. You’d bested him again, beaten him at his own game. What had started as a desire to show you that he was still in charge, had ended up with him handcuffed to his bed while you delivered the most delicious punishments. Your tongue, lips and teeth explored his body, your silk negligee brushing against his flushed skin. The mix of silk, soft kisses and sharp teeth were agonisingly blissful, and he found himself slipping further and further into your grip. “Just tell me your name,” you repeated, “and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

What was it that he wanted though? This whole thing had started as a game for him, just another girl he could use to entertain himself until he ultimately got bored of you. But somewhere along the line, it had gone horribly wrong. He wasn’t bored of you, far from it. He craved your attention, your validation. Your hands skimmed his lower stomach, purposely avoiding his stiff, leaking cock. He whimpered, a sound he’d never made before, and he knew in that instant he was done for.

“Let’s try something else then, shall we?” You smiled. You’d get him to tell you his name, consequences be damned. You knew that once he’d recovered, once he’d regained his usual controlling façade that you’d pay for this. You didn’t mind though; you’d take whatever punishment he dolled out if he would just tell you his name.

You knew he kept a gun in his bedside table, had seen the flsh of the black metal as he opened it one night. You’d grown up clay pigeon shooting as a child and teen, and a handgun couldn’t be that different from a rifle, could it? You’d removed the bullets while he’d been in the bathroom, setting the gun back carefully in its place. He didn’t need know you’d taken them out, but you couldn’t help but feel that accidentally firing it might spoil the fun a little.

Pulling the drawer open, you carefully removed the gun, the weapon heavy and cold in your hand. You saw his eyes light up, heard the guttural growl fall from his lips as he pulled at his restraints. His chest rose and fell heavily, his body shaking with anticipation. He was enjoying this.

You dragged the barrel of the gun slowly up his leg, his stomach, and across his chest. “Open your mouth,” you instructed. He did as he was told, so eager. You slid the gun slowly into his mouth, relishing in the pathetic little whimpers that fell from him. Your free hand trailed back down his stomach, before coming to a stop at the base of his cock. A single nail dragged up its length, your eyes never leaving his as he squirmed against your touch. “Tell me,” you repeated, tutting when he shook his head. Your hand gripped the base of him, working his shaft slowly and deliberately, watching his reaction as he neared the brink. Just when you felt him start to shake, just before he reached the edge of ecstasy, you pulled you hand away.

He screamed something at you, but you couldn’t tell what it was; the gun muffled his voice. “It’s just your name,” you sighed, “that’s all I want. Give me what I want, and I’ll let you punish me for my disobedience.” Your hand began to stroke him once more, your thumb circling the top of his cock as he pulled against the handcuffs.

He couldn’t take it much more, the desire to fall apart for you was overwhelming, bordering on painful. He’d tell you his bank account details if you asked, anything to get you to give him what he needed. “Park Jin-Tae!” he cried, his words muffled by the cold metal in this mouth. “What was that?” you smiled, removing the gun enough so he could speak clearly. “Park Jin-Tae,” he repeated. “My name is Park Jin-Tae.” “Good boy,” you winked. He’d told you what you wanted to know; you wouldn’t tease him any longer. You placed the gun back on the bedside table, lowering your mouth to his aching cock. You’d barely placed your lips around him before he emitted a strangled cry, losing himself completely as he spilled his seed down your throat.

He’d given you a piece of himself, a part of him that he had kept hidden from the world for longer than he could remember. As you unhandcuffed him and kissed him tenderly on his lips, he so badly wanted to be angry with you. But as he looked into your eyes, his chest ached in the most beautiful way possible. His heart raced, his stomach flipped, he craved your touch, your skin against his. He knew in that moment he’d lost the game. He wasn’t in control anymore, you were. Maybe you had been the whole time. He’d spent his entire life feeling nothing for anyone, treating people as toys he could play with and throw away. But from the moment he met you, his body had ached for you, every atom of his being craved you. He was a fool to think he’d ever been in charge.

“Park Jin-Tae,” you smiled, kneeling before him with your hands behind your back. “I’ll let you punish me now.” You looked so beautiful, so perfect. As he slipped the handcuffs onto your wrists, bending your delicate body over his knee, he brought his hand down against the skin of your ass hard. Your cry of pleasure was irresistible, but tonight he’d make you shed tears.

Yes, he would punish you. Punish you for making him fall in love.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game smut #squid game season 2 #the salesman x reader #gong yoo #the salesman fanfic #the salesman squid game #the salesman x you #the salesman smut #the salesman

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adieutristana · 1 day ago

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hello omg just found your blog and might i say your writing style is so gorgeous?? absolute chefs kiss 💯. aaaaaanywho, i read your post about how the arcane women would be during aftercare. i was wondering if it would be possible to maybe write a dribble drabble of how sevika would react to reader going like completely nv (non verbal) and dissociated after said hankey pankey actions? 🤔 💭.

feel free to ignore if this makes you uncomfortable!! :3 have a good rest of your day/evening and happy holidays!

of course! thank you for the request <3 i appreciate your kind words, it means a lot that you enjoy my writing :) happy (late) holidays to you as well!

summary; sevika and her girlfriend during aftercare. reader goes nonverbal and dissociates.

characters included; sevika

tags/warnings; nothing explicit but very suggestive, comfort (no hurt), fluff, just sweet, nonverbal / dissociative episodes

men and minors dni.

your back hits the mattress, sheets clinging to your sweaty skin.

that was… intense. it usually is with sevika. but good. you can't feel it right now, but you know that in an hour or two, your legs will grow sore. your breath is coming to you slowly, although it's still a bit difficult. you're still slightly trembling. your girlfriend is in the next room, quickly rolling a cigar before she joins you in bed. it’s become a routine of sorts.

roll the cigar, climb in bed with you, hold you, talk about whatever’s on yours or her mind. sevika was always gentle, doting afterward. looking out for you, then herself. before entering a relationship with her, you’d never expected her to be affectionate. she never expected herself to be affectionate. but the moment your eyes locked with her own, things changed.

sevika slowly makes her way to the bed, sitting down next to you with her back propped on the headboard as she uses a blanket to cover her lower half. she comes to light her cigar, taking a long drag before looking down at you.

“you alright?”

you make a little ‘mm’ noise, your eyes fixed on the ceiling. your breathing has evened out for the most part, although sweat still clings to your skin and you’re still a bit shaky. sevika purses her lips, leaning down over you slightly. it’s not often that you give her this… lackluster of a response.

“you sure you’re okay?”

she presses, earning a slow nod from you. not much is getting through to you right now… it was good. amazing. but right now, you just feel so out of it. an out of body experience, in some way.

sevika lets out a heavy sigh and puts her cigar out in a bedside ashtray, deciding to inch closer to you. she's concerned, to say the very least. did she go too far? did she do something that she wasn't supposed to? not notice something you had said? she hesitantly drapes an arm over your chest, laying on her side as she takes in your flat expression.

“did i hurt you?”

she asks. always straight to the point, but she’s never seen you like this after sex. she’s worried. the anxiety is quickly relieved after she sees you frantically shaking your head. no, she didn’t hurt you. she wasn’t too rough. but that doesn’t explain why you’re just blinking with a dazed look, as if you’re only partially present. you’re aware of what she’s saying, at the very least.

but she won’t press. she’s concerned. she knows that you’re not completely yourself right now for whatever reason. she doesn’t want to force an answer out of you if you don’t want to give it to her at this moment. so instead, the woman opts to gently pull you into her arms and hold you close to her chest.

she feels your arms slowly wrap around your waist, and your head nestling into her chest. this is good. this is a good thing.

“i take it you’re just not up to talk right now, huh…?” sevika mutters, reaching to begin gently running her fingers along your bare back. lightly raking her fingernails in a soothing motion, the cold metal of her other arm slightly grounding you. “that’s alright. i can talk instead.”

sevika continues running her fingers over your back, a rhythmic motion that she hopes serves to soothe.

"you did great for me... you always do." she mutters, that low drawl of hers evident. "and you're doing great now. i don't know what's going on... maybe you need time to process?"

sevika wonders, maybe more to herself than to you. nonetheless, she presses a gentle kiss to your temple. lips the slightest bit rough, fingernails still going up and down your back.

"i don't know. but i'll be here."

she smiles when you slowly nod, making eye contact with her. you lean slightly closer to her touch, seeking the warmth that she offers. a calloused hand, firm body, soft touch. the smell of smoke and sweat. it's everything that you could hope for in this moment, paired with that low voice of hers.

"there you are."

your eyes looking at hers. what a privilege. this isn't something sevika thought she'd ever get, only having had flings and brothel visits in the past. she didn't think romance was something in the cards for her, and she didn't think she'd ever particularly want it. yet here she is, holding a woman who she loves and who loves her in return. after showing that love to her.

if that woman isn't feeling the most herself right now, then that's fine. at least she knows she enjoyed herself, but she'll be here while she finds what she needs.

"and you look as beautiful as ever."

she murmurs, moving her hand from your back to gently grasp at your shoulder. running a calloused hand up and down your upper arm in slow, caring motions. her eyes take in your expression, relaxed and a bit dissociated. you're always beautiful to her.

the curve of your cheekbones, the edge of your jawline, the softness of your cheeks, the way your lips curl up the slightest bit. sevika could melt. gods, she feels strange admitting that to herself. she could melt from how stunning her girlfriend is. who would've thought?

she continues to press light kisses to your face- your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose, over any freckles or moles you may have. this might be on sevika's list of favorite things to do, to just take you in. the way your eyes flutter closed as you feel her lips on you.

"let me know when you come to, but i'll be here until then... and after."

sevika murmurs, slowly dragging her thumb along your bottom lip. she can't deny that she's still a bit worried, although part of her will always worry. that's her job, isn't it? to make sure you're okay, you're safe, you're happy.

but right now, you just need her. and sevika is more than happy to give you everything within her reach.

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #reader insert #this isnt my proudest work im sorry

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cybrasigilism · 18 hours ago

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Hey, I was wondering if you could do a dae ho x reader x thanos, where they both are trying to do outlandish stuff to get the readers attention on them and not the other. they're both so goofy at times

This Means War (Kang Dae-ho/Thanos X F! Reader)

warning: no smut! | not proofread | lowercase intended | OOC (bc daeho and thanos don’t really interact in the series) | love triangle(?) | this is my interpretation of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions on the characters differ from your own

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: this may be the most entertaining fic i’ve written yet! thank you so much for the brilliant request, i’ve tried my best to make it an enjoyable read for you all! this is a mixed POV story so apologies for the confusion as it reads, i wanted to try something different but if this was too much of a confusing read i likely won’t do this style of fic very often. AND ik its short, i’m so sorry, but this is only the beginning of this story (if you guys like it)

–––-𖤓⋆˖⁺‧₊𖤐₊‧⁺˖⋆☾-–––

dae-ho was sure he’d never seen someone quite so captivating in all his life. the moment you grabbed his attention from across the room at the very beginning of the games, he knew he had to get to know you. whether it was the way your face managed to light up the dark atmosphere of the common area, or the way you carried yourself in a calm, collected, self assured manner amongst all the uncertainty; he fell head over heels effective immediately.

unfortunately for dae-ho, he wasn’t the only one who seemed to have noticed you. thanos had clocked you the minute people started filing out from their bunks, and he felt things right then that he hadn’t felt for anyone before. he was totally drawn to you, it was almost as if he knew he had to stake his claim on you sooner rather than later, lest someone make their move first. he would be damned if he lost his chance with the most gorgeous girl he’d ever laid his eyes on to some random.

as for you, you were spending more of your time focusing on your current situation rather than scouring the location for potential suitors. you didn’t notice any familiar faces, to be honest you were kind of relieved at that. you would have been embarrassed to see a colleague or a friend there, knowing full well the predicament that you must have been in to even consider joining these sketchy games. you maintained a level head up to the point where you were all led to this photo center like cattle, taking photos for whatever reason before entering the first game. just as you were joining a line to take your photo, you heard someone call out your number out of nowhere.

“sẽnorita!” the same voice called out once again this time followed quickly by a whistle, causing you to turn your head and see this purple-haired guy with a crowd of people surrounding him. “i’ve got room for one more here, c’mon!” he beckoned for you to join the cramped circle. you felt your face contort into a concerned expression before simply turning away and joining a line far away from whatever that was. you could still feel that guy look at you for a quick moment, but when you glanced in his direction, he was long gone.

—

this first game, Red Light Green Light, was not anything like what you or anybody else were expecting. when the rules stated that players who moved would be eliminated, you didn’t conclude that that meant they would be assassinated. poker face be damned, you could feel your body vibrate every time that creepy doll turned her head back round to face the players, eyes scanning for even the slightest bit of movement. the next time you were all allowed to move forward, this tall, dark haired guy moved in front of you almost deliberately. when you all froze again you noticed he had his hand extended out to you behind his back, with his mouth covered you could hear him whisper “just stay close to me, okay?” you waited before that damned dolls head was turned around again before you grabbed his hand and the two of you took off.

once you both crossed the finish line, you looked up at your mystery saviour. “thank you for doing that..” you said, voice noticeably shaken from all the death you witnessed, and were still witnessing. he looked down at you and smiled. “of course, anything for you.” that last part warmed your heart, it was nice to know you had already found someone you could rely on in these trying new circumstances of yours. you let your gaze shift off subconsciously and noticed that purple headed guy from earlier, staring daggers at the man who had just essentially saved your life.

—

after the surviving players returned to the common area, cast their vote, and split off back to their beds, thanos made a b-line for dae-ho, looming over his bed to which dae-ho quickly took notice.

“that was some lame shit you pulled.” dae-ho had never been so perplexed at another person in his life. “what’re you talking about?” he asked, earning a laugh from the quirky stranger. thanos kneeled down, making eye contact with dae-ho now. “you know damn well, 388,” he started, spitting out dae-ho’s number as though it were a dirty word. “swooping in, acting like the hero for that chick.” dae-ho looked unamused, trying to be unassuming about the whole ordeal. “i don’t know what you think this is, i was just trying to keep somebody alive-“

“i didn’t ask what you were trying to do, did i?” thanos interrupted, getting closer to dae-ho now. “just know this. she’s mine. so i wouldn’t waste my time if i were you.” dae-ho held back a laugh, before looking his newfound opponent up and down. “that’s funny, the feeling didn’t seem mutual when she gave you the cold shoulder during photos.” thanos scoffed, turning away in an attempt to keep his cool. “whatever man, she’s just playing hard to get.” his voice trailed off at the end, when he clocked you sitting in your own bunk, knees to your chest.

“yeah, i don’t think that’s true.” dae-ho stated, getting up out of his bed, and patting thanos on the back. “i get that you’re probably used to having girls fall over themselves for you, so it’s definitely shocking when someone like that doesn’t give you a second look.” dae-ho’s slight smugness about the whole ordeal left thanos speechless, watching with seething rage as dae-ho made his was over to where you were sat. he knew that the games weren’t the only thing he wanted to win over now. he knew he was certainly not going to let dae-ho captivate your heart so easily, and he knew that he was definitely not going down without a fight.

dae-ho knew something too: he now knew he had to keep you safe from thanos because something inside told him that if that maniac was capable of inadvertently killing random people in order to advance in the first game, there was no telling the lengths he would go to gain your attention. he made a vow to himself to never let you out of his sight while you were in your current situation. over his dead body would he let someone like thanos prevail.

the two of them both made a nemesis that day, each one swearing that they could get to you before the other did. they now knew it was about more than just the games.

they now knew that this meant war.

–––-𖤓⋆˖⁺‧₊𖤐₊‧⁺˖⋆☾-–––

apologies again for the length, or lack there of, of the fic! if anything i want to make this multiple parts but i understand if the format of this particular fanfiction is too confusing, and again i am sorry for that! just wanted to experiment :)

as always, advice and constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing are appreciated and requested!

have a splendid day/night lovelies 😙

tags: @gongyoosgf @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

#squid game #squid game 2 #fanfiction #squid game x reader #x reader fanfiction #player 230 #player 388 #thanos x reader #choi su bong #kang dae ho #dae ho x reader #imagine

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kawaiiwritingcomputer · 2 days ago

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sonic characters when they have a crush on you || headcanons

Sonic 🍄

Sonic is the “doesn’t make it too obvious” king of guy. You give him something, he takes it with grace and a simple thank you and nothing more but behind closed doors he admires it. He holds everything and anything you give him or do for him dearly. His love language is gift giving but makes it seem like it was nothing.

“Oh yeah this old thing? No worries, just had to get rid of it anyway.” Meanwhile he totally thought of you and what you had mentioned. He’s the kind of hedgehog that can’t go too long without your attention without feeling weirdly huffy but refuses to admit he had a crush on you!

“Has anyone seen (Y/N)? I’m gonna go check on them.” Yeah. He totally doesn’t have a crush.

Tails 🍄

Tails makes his crush totally obvious. He’s inventing you things saying you might need them. Tails explain it thoroughly so you’re always well equipped and know what to do! He’s always looking for you everywhere just in case… Just in case what? Well, for just in case. Tails gets a little nervous that you might not like him back so he tries to overcompensate as a true friend! He’s so easy to fluster. He laughs at everything you say! Even if it’s not funny sometimes. Tails listens to every detail of your life and closely pays attention. Tails loves you so much to the point he’ll create anything for you!

Knuckles 🪼

The echidna will treat you with the respect he gives any other, overall being a kind person. He wouldn’t know what do to with himself, caught in your flames of love. He thinks of you often, yearning to have you in a hug. He’s so strong,, but not strong enough to deny these feelings. He is bad with hints, and to be honest he’s rather blunt.

“Y/N, here are these flowers I picked for you; and also some grapes! I think you are beautiful/attractive, and I would like to court you on a date!” He’s so serious, it’s very silly but you think it’s endearing and sweet. He’ll try to impress you and make a fool out of himself, eventually winning you over in the end because he’s such a silly cute guy and he makes you laugh.

shadow 🪼

He pretends like his feelings don’t exist, for as long as he can stand it. Damn, you’re just so cute, doing your own thing and enjoying every moment of it. You’ll try to drag him along somewhere for fun, and he’ll pretend he hates it but he’s loving every minute with you. He doesn’t make eye contact with you and he seems to be blushing a lot. He’ll only start to open up to you in private moments.

Shadow will show you small physical affections, like an awkward hug or simply trying to hold your hand. If you seem even a little bit off he will pull away, fearing you may think of him as a monster. You’ll have to reassure him yourself and make some of your own moves. “You don’t think I’m,,, dangerous?” He’s scared of hurting you, he doesn’t want to lose something he loves,, have it ripped away from him again.

silver 🍄

Oh Silver. He’s so awkward and shy! He can conversate for sure but if you show too much interest with your pretty eyes he starts to shut down. Silver practically melts but tells himself he must keep strong. He doesn’t want to look weak to you. He has everything under control! Including his crush on you… Or so he thinks. He yaps about the future and his special interests to you. Silver isn’t a show off kind of guy but if he thinks something will impress you, he’ll try to impress you for sure! Even if it embarrasses himself. Anything to hear you laugh!

scourge 🪼

Scourge always gets what he wants, even if he has to take it. From the moment he set his eyes on you, he wasn’t gonna give up. He had to have you. You would look so good as royalty by his side, sitting atop a throne. He would shower you with gifts, anything even stuff you wouldn’t care for. You may be flattered, but he’s a bad boy. He’s trouble, a straight up red flag that’s erratically waving!! He would make any comment he could about you, often really lewd stuff. Obviously staring at you from beneath those flashy sunglasses. He does have a hidden gentlemanly vibe on the inside, though, when he’s fallen into your trap instead. He’s like a moth to a flame fr.

“Have anything ya want from me, please, just take my heart already! I can’t stand it, someone like you lookin’ so good, you should be mine! Come on, I ain’t as bad as everyone says!” His huge fanged grin says otherwise, but at least he’s trying to be honest about his feelings. You get to be royalty, and he may not seem like it but Scourge is a very loyal partner to you.

amy 🍄

Amy is sooo obvious about her crush with you. She’s daydream scenarios and sighing dreamily to herself. You can always feel her eyes on you, and even feel her smile from miles away. Amy reads her tarot cards about you weekly to see when the perfect day to confess is but she gets nervous. What if it ruins the friendship? She can’t stand the thought of not being anything at all! Amy makes you home made gifts as a token of her love. You say you want new earrings? She’s on it! You saw a cute blanket? She’s knitting away! You would have to be blind to not see her crush. Will you accept her feelings?

rouge 🍄

Rouge is hot and cold with you. Is she being nice or is she flirting? Is she being mean or is shy flirting? She’s also very touchy, in a sly innocent way. If you questioned her, she would just shrug innocently. “Ya had something on ya, I was just trying to help.” Rouges love language can be hard to pinpoint. She comes and goes when she pleases but she always makes sure to talk to you. She doesn’t gift you anything because she doesn’t buy anything but she might steal you something. Rouge is playing the long game with you, slowly working her way into your life completely. She just thinks it’s cute watching you get flustered.

sticks 🪼

Sticks is attached to you in an endearing way, and she likes to talk a lot, so hopefully you can keep up with her. She’s not a prize to be won, you have to earn her respect and show her comfort before trust. She’s been through a lot,, and will be glad to have someone to finally talk to and lean on! She would make you primitive looking gifts, or go hunting to bring you something. She feels like she needs to give you something to represent her feelings.

She is quite flirtatious, and it could be confused with her also just being friendly- because she talks without thinking a lot. She makes compliments on your appearance, offers to show you new things, and tends to be kinda handsy. “You n me get along so good, we might as well become partners!” She would remark, hoping you’ll get her hints.

blaze 🍄

Blaze is direct. She befriends you and talks to you a lot. She goes out of her to see you then will go see others. You’re like a soft and safe place for her. She’s got a cool exterior and she feels like when she’s with you, it can be dropped. She knows she can be quiet or talkative around you and you’ll gladly just show up for her. Her love language is quality time and sharing things!

belle 🪼

First thing about Belle, she’s gonna stand up for you in all situations. She is very reliable, and also super intelligent and interesting. She’s so cute, she would love having your company,, someone to chat with while fixing up inventions. She longs for a partnership, and a bond where she doesn’t get hurt in the end. She’s a little shy when it comes to her crush on you,, and you’ll notice she’ll be more nervous and blushy, words don’t seem to come out right and she’s scared of messing up!!

When it comes to how Belle would confess, she would try to make it fantasy line for you. A beautiful environment to look upon, stars in the sky, and she would make you something related to your interests as a gift,, to show you she cares and she has a heart even if she is made of wood and other materials. She would protect you with all of her power, and always try to keep you happy.

bonus: robotnik

What?! Feelings?? Ivo has never felt such things, in fact he would rather laugh!! There is no feeling, only knowing, he claims to believe, and being deemed as unwanted all of his life has only driven these thoughts in harder. In truth he’s honestly scared of emotion,, he doesn’t like the way things can hurt him,, he doesn’t like to care. Vengeance against that hedgehog and his friend is his motivation…. At least until you came along.

There had never been any processing,, if there was room for love in his life. He’d try to calculate it into his plans,, but such an unforeseen situation would have his mind scattered. He’s a lil stressed about it, and may give you harsher conditions to try and push it all away- but he realizes he feels bad about it. Remorseful, he’s gonna apologize to you and try to set you free, you’re better off without him. If you try to stay— well he wouldn’t know what to do, but would blindly accept the situation, and fess up to you. He will always put you first and would never judge you. He never realized before how badly he craves touch,, and someone to love.

#sonic fandom #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #shadow the hedgehog #blaze the cat #amy rose #silver the hedgehog #ivo robotnik #eggman x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #scourge the hedgehog #belle the tinkerer #sticks the badger #knuckles x reader

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you-know-i-get-itt · 1 day ago

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so it seems that a huge portion of the fandom has reached the conclusion that renee is “fake nice”. this is probably a direct result of neil’s narration—the narrator didn’t trust her to actually be a good person, so the readers didn’t trust her either. this was compounded by the fact that renee herself said that she was “a bad person trying [her] best to be a good person.”

now, first of all, neil’s narration is obviously incredibly biased. neil had known like one genuinely nice person in the past (coach hernandez) and this person wasn’t exactly overtly nice either. renee was kind. to him, people like her couldn’t exist because they couldn’t survive (re: his life on the run with his mother), so her kindness must have been a façade for something worse. this doesn’t mean that he was right, it just reflects the depth of his character and his own perceptions of other people

secondly, “i am a bad person trying my best to be a good person�� isn’t reflective of renee’s, i don’t know, good-person-ness; she’s calling herself a person who has done bad things in the past, and a person who’s trying to do better things now. her primary intention is to be kind. trying to be better is not the same as pretending to be good

also, the fact that she tries her best to help people (andrew, jean) isn’t because she wants them to think she’s a good person, it’s because she knows what it’s like to feel like you have no one in your corner, and so she wants to make sure she can stop as many people from feeling that way as she can. if wymack has become the person that could have saved him when no one did, renee has become the person that did save her

#saw some posts that upset me so here we are #renee walker #aftg #all for the game #david wymack #i have more thoughts about her and andrew as foils in this regard but that’s a post for another day #my posts #tfc #the foxhole court

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wikiangela · 1 day ago

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maybe this Christmas will be different (and I won't be alone again)

written for @bucktommywinterfest

prompt: holiday/post-holiday blues and/or trans character(s)

rated: G

word count: 3.4k

[read on Ao3]

There’s a Christmas tree in Tommy’s living room. It’s decorated in colorful ornaments, baubles and garlands and a gold star on top. There are multi-colored lights, shimmering gleefully, and it feels almost like they’re mocking him – which is a silly thought, really. But every time he looks at the tree, this symbol of holiday joy, it feels wrong and almost ironic – it feels so out of place in his house. He’s never had a tree in this house in all the years since he moved in. Hell, he hasn’t had a Christmas tree at all in over three decades . He didn’t even want a tree this year, but somehow he let Evan talk him into it. Or, well, who is he kidding, he saw a tiny hint of disappointment and that smile and enthusiasm dimming when he said he didn’t want a tree, and it almost killed him. So he agreed, and next thing he knew, he was decorating the damn tree in his living room with his boyfriend, and then he had the whole house looking like a set of the most cliche Christmas movie. And he did it all with a smile on his face, and he desperately wished he wasn’t faking it. But seeing Evan so excited and happy about the holidays when they were decorating the tree, or when they were shopping for gifts – it breaks Tommy’s heart that he couldn’t find it in himself to share it. He didn’t have the heart to tell Evan how the holiday just brings up too many memories, making Tommy feel… mostly empty and numb now. A little sad. And angry. So angry that he can’t find joy in it again. “Hey, you okay?” Evan’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, as he looks up at him, his chin resting on Tommy’s pec. It’s a lazy Saturday morning, they’re both off shift, and they decided to have breakfast and coffee in the living room, which, predictably, turned into snuggling on the couch. “Hm?” Tommy takes his eyes off the tree and looks at his adorable boyfriend. “Yeah, no, I’m fine, sweetheart.” “You sure? You’ve been kinda distracted lately. And you’re staring at that Christmas tree like it personally offended you, and it’s some of my finest work, so hey,” he teases, digging a finger into Tommy’s side and getting a startled laugh out of him.

[read on ao3]

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mymindisneverhere · 2 days ago

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Playing Games

summary: Kelvin’s flight back home keeps getting delayed due to the weather leaving you a bit sad but he finds a way to make it up to you.

warnings: none. pure fluff 🩵

(a/n: I want to start writing more fluff and who’s better than Kelvin to be my leading character. Enjoy!)

“Nah babe, my flight got delayed again so I won’t be in until later tonight or early tomorrow morning.” Kelvin said. You could hear the disappointment in his voice as he spoke to you.

“Damn it.” You groaned into the phone. “Why do they keep pushing the flights back?”

“It’s the weather baby but it’s all good. Are you still at your moms house?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Just stay there and once I board the plane I’ll text you and let you know.” He could sense the sadness in your voice, slightly feeling the same way as he spoke to you. “If you don’t hear from me, my phone probably died but I’ll charge it as soon as I land.”

You let out a deep breath before responding. “Okay, I love you!”

“I love you too baby!”

You hung up the phone and stared at the screen, totally lost in your thoughts. Kelvin had been on a press tour for the past six months and while you enjoyed being the girlfriend of an actor who was always booked and busy, you just wanted to finally be up under him after not seeing him for so long.

“Was that Kelvin?” Your mom asked as she stood over the stove stirring the pot of stew she had made for the two of you. The weather hadn’t been too bad where you guys lived but it was freezing out and a nice bowl of stew always soothed you guys.

“Yeah, his flight keeps getting pushed back.” You pouted slightly, placing your phone onto the counter while you watched your mom prepare the food.

“He’ll be home in a little while, there’s no need to be upset sweetheart.”

“I know but I guess I’m just worried about if I’m gonna have to wait until tomorrow to see him.”

“You know that weather up north is always bad around this time of the year, but I’m sure you won’t have to wait until tomorrow.” She moved around the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from the cabinets and placing them side by side on the counter. “Grab the crackers from the pantry while I make our plates.”

“Okay.” You went into the pantry and grabbed two sleeves of saltine crackers before returning to the kitchen. You frowned as your mom hurried to lock her phone and flip it face down. “Ma, who were texting?”

“Oh that was your father, he’s out trying to get the garage to finally open.” She said, returning to a calm state as if she wasn’t in a panic just a few seconds ago.

You eyed her skeptically before placing the crackers onto the counter in front of you. The two of you grabbed the large trays that held your bowls of soup and crackers and carefully walked to the living room where you both sat and watched the latest episode of RHOP.

The two of you ate and gossiped about each housewife, giving your dramatic commentary for each scene, laughing and preparing for the next. As you watched the show, you couldn’t help but peep at your phone waiting for another call from Kelvin.

Another hour had already gone by and you still hadn’t heard anything from him. You tried to enjoy your time with your parents but your worry for your boyfriend was growing by the hour and making it almost impossible for you to relax.

“Finally got that stubborn garage to go up.” Your dad announced as he walked into the living room.

“Well if you’re ready to go home, we can drop you off.” Your mother said, looking over at you.

You simply nodded and stood from the couch. You stacked your tray on top of your mothers, along with the empty bowls and walked them into the kitchen. After a few minutes of washing and drying the dishes, you sat them aside on the empty dish rack and went into the back room to retrieve your things.

“Is Kelvin done yet?” Your dad whispered to your mom.

“He just texted me and gave me a thumbs up.” Your mom whispered back, nodding to him.

You walked back into the living room, wrapping your scarf around your neck as you looked up at your parents. They were sitting in an awkward silence, looking around the room.

“Why are y’all being so weird right now?” You asked, frowning at the two of them.

“Honey we’re not, we were just having a quick chat that’s all.” Your mom said, placing her earmuffs on and grabbing her purse.

You eyed her up and down then shifted your gaze to your dad who stood there with a nonchalant expression.

“Let’s go.” He said, holding his hand out signaling for you and your mother to walk ahead of him.

You all walked to the garage, you first, then your mom and your dad right behind you two. All bundled up in your winter coats, scarves and mittens, you and your mom got into the car first. Thankful for your dad starting the car ahead of time, you guys quickly settled into the warmth of the vehicle. The heated seats and warm breeze escaping the vents brought you a small feeling of comfort as you prepared to head back to your place to spend yet another night alone.

Your dad finally got into the driver's seat and slowly pulled out of the garage and onto the streets. You didn’t notice him staring at you through the rear view mirror as you looked out the window, watching the cars pass by. You had hoped and prayed that Kelvin would finally be back home, safe and sound but finally decided to accept that he would just be there when he could.

After a long 30 minute drive to your small neighborhood, you all pulled into the driveway of the townhome Kelvin had purchased for the two of you just a year and half prior. Grabbing your purse, you searched for your keys and pulled them from the very bottom of the bag.

“Thank you guys, love you!” You said as you exited the car.

“You’re welcome sweetheart!” Your dad stated.

“Call us once you get settled in.” Your mom said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Okay.” You shut the car door and walked to unlock your front door. After a few seconds, you finally got the door open and paused when you saw the walkway dimly lit with small tea light candles along the baseboards. You debated on turning around to have your dad come in to help check the house for safety but then a thought came to your mind.

‘Why would an intruder place romantic candles in my house?’

“I know he didn’t!” You whispered to yourself, finally realizing who was in your home all along. Taking slow steps, you walked down the hall until you reached the kitchen. There Kelvin stood in front of the dining table with a smile on his face.

“You are such a liar!” You yelled, dropping your bag and running over to him. He wrapped his arms around you, stumbling back a bit as you jumped into his arms.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Kelvin laughed hearing the genuine shock in your voice.

The truth was Kelvin had landed three hours ago but convinced your parents to keep you busy while he planned a surprise for you. He knew how much you loved to be the first one he saw once he got off of the plane. You’d always meet him at the airport with a big smile and a warm hug. However, this time around, he wanted to throw you off completely. He was always trying his hardest to surprise you but it wasn’t easy getting things by you solely because you knew your man too well.

You knew he was a jokester, always sneaking up on you, always play fighting with you and smothering you with kisses when you were upset with him. He knew that you were always a few steps ahead of him so he had to pull out all the stops to be sure you didn’t catch on to this surprise. Asking your parents to get in on it was the icing on the cake, as they were very open to playing into the surprise knowing you’d love it when it was all said and done.

“My mom knew, didn't she?” You asked, finally back on your feet as you stared at him.

“You dad did too.”

“Oooh, I’ma call them and they’re not gonna hear the last of it. I swear!” You rolled your eyes.

Kelvin laughed at you, watching as you paced back and forth trying to figure out how you weren’t able to put two and two together. Then it suddenly clicked for you; your mom constantly flipping her phone face down whenever you entered the room, smiling wide at you while you were entering your home, them acting weird when you were grabbing your scarf, it was all coming back to you as you paced the room.

“I cannot believe I didn’t catch on.” You said, dropping your hands to your sides and staring at him in disbelief.

“I got you babe, it’s okay to admit it.” He smiled, walking over to you to place a kiss on your lips.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and turned away from him as he placed more kisses along your cheek and jaw. You gasped out loud when your eyes landed on the couch full of bags. Dior, Chanel, Steve Madden, Victoria Secret and many more bags sat on the couch and the rest sat on the floor in front. There were so many gifts in front of you, you didn’t know which bag to dig into first.

“Oh my God!” You covered your mouth and turned to look at him, a sly smirk on his face. You ran over to the couch and kneeled down to the floor, scanning over every bag, so excited to unpack everything. It felt like Christmas for you all over again. “Babe, you did not have to do all of this!”

“I told you to stop saying that.” He said, walking over to the couch and standing next to you. “I like seeing you happy and if I wanna buy my girl a bunch of gifts, I should be able to do that.”

His tone became a bit serious as he stared down at you. Kelvin’s love language had always been gifts. No matter where he went in the world, he’d always grab something for you just to show you that you were always on his mind. However, you were always constantly feeling the need to decline those gifts because you didn’t want him to think that was the only reason you were with him. This never sat right with him and he never failed to remind you of it. He knew how much you cared for him, he never thought for a second that you were only with him for what he could do for you. But your constant need to remind him of that made him feel as though you didn’t think he trusted you.

“I know, I know.” You spoke softly, looking down at the gifts. He had just landed and was back at home with you, the last you wanted to do was ruin the mood so soon. “Thank you babe, I really appreciate it, honestly.”

“Open them, I wanna make sure everything fits.” He took a seat on the coffee table as he watched you plow through every bag.

There were shoes, clothes, purses, lingerie, perfume, and jewelry. Anything you could think of buying for yourself had already been purchased by your man. You two sat in the living room as you tried on everything, testing it all out to be sure you truly liked what he bought.

“You like it?” Kelvin asked, staring up at you as you pranced around in your new fur coat accompanied by a new pair of sunglasses.

“I love it!” You shrieked, turning to him and rushing him with another hug.

“Babe, you’re gonna break the table.” He said, reaching out to his side to prevent himself from falling over.

“I don’t care, I love all of it!” You placed a kiss on his lips which of course fell into a passionate one.

“Okay I’m a bit tired from the flight.” Kelvin said in between kisses. “I barely showered.”

“I don’t care, I missed you.” You said, still kissing him.

“At least buy me dinner first.” He joked, knowing it would cause you to burst into laughter.

“You are so stupid!” You laughed, finally getting up and letting him breathe. You playfully hit him on his shoulder as you stood to your feet. “I did miss you a lot though.”

“I missed you too.” Kelvin stood from the table and faced you. “But you’re stuck with me until I have to leave again. So that means I get to be your headache for the next couple of months.”

“Whatever.” You said playfully, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, I’ll take your bags up to the room.” He said, grabbing as many as he could before heading up the stairs. You followed close behind him, carrying the rest of the bags up to your bedroom.

“So you’re really tired?” You asked, placing the last bag in the closet.

“Yeah that flight was rough, I couldn’t sleep at all.” He said, placing his hands on his hips.

You eyed him up and down, folding your arms as you stared at one another. You hadn’t seen him in six months and now he was making you wait even longer to finally make love to him after a long wait.

“I know you can’t resist me babe, but just give me some time to rest.” He joked, placing his hands on your hips and kissing you.

“Fine, you can rest.” You said, unfolding your arms and turning to head back into the closet. “You’re gonna need it.”

Kelvin’s smile dropped a bit as you watched you walk back into the closet so carelessly.

“Wait, what do you mean I’m gonna need it?”

You smirked to yourself, refusing to face him as he yelled from the bedroom. You organized your new shoes to fall into place along with your collection and placed the new clothes in their color coordinated areas while he continued questioning you.

“Babe stop playing.” He laughed a bit, hoping you’d respond but you didn’t. When you failed to respond he immediately went back into a bit of a panic. “What you mean by that though?”

His voice had returned to a serious tone and you couldn’t help but to laugh. Finally walking out of your closet you brushed past him saying, “Nothing babe, let’s just shower and get ready for bed.”

His eyes followed you into the bathroom but his feet stayed in place. You made him a bit nervous but you didn’t care. He had his way of playing with your emotions and you had your way of playing with his. Getting your lick back was always your favorite part of your relationship with him and he knew it.

“Babe, stop playing.”

Please excuse any mistakes. 🩵

#kelvin harrison jr fic #kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr x reader #kelvin Harrison jr x black reader #Kelvin Harrison jr x fem reader #x black reader #black fem reader

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