#i didn't even realize he was hiding his face away until you pointed it out

[woozis-boy]

oh I didn't realize this was an ask game and was answering them all for dalgi in my head. gonna do a read more bc I don't want this to go to waste

1. he does his best but he's usually nervous! when he first moved to korea, there was a lot of it. some he was really excited to try bc he'd never had access to it in backwater midwest-ish and he'd always seen people loving it. other was stuff he'd never tried before because he'd never heard of it. he doesn't like doing it in public or around people he doesn't trust because he knows he'll have a reaction if he doesn't like it and doesn't want to upset anyone. but he's brave a lot and will give most anything a tiny try at least

2. this boy has a Pittsburgh accent and doesn't even realize it until the others point it out. example:

an interview. Interviewer asks about funny things svt notices about the plus unit when they speak in their native language. Vernon and Josh immediately call dalgi out for having an accent.

dalgi: ??? do i???

vernon: say tire

dalgi: tahre

dalgi: OoO OH MY GOD I DO

3. say nice things behind their back because he is SHY. but will also text them or write them a note that is not to be read until he is miles away so he can hide. games where the punishment is to compliment another member to their face are hell for him

4. resilient, perserverant, and optimistic

5. coffee. he loves his coffee. usually goes for oat milk lattes and mixes up the flavorings. the dorm kitchen has a section that looks like a coffee shop just for him, and he loves making fancy drinks for the members

6. Pokémon! the first time some of the members really hear him yap is when Na PD asks a question about it and he goes OFF

7. over text, yes. again, he's to shy to do it face to face. but he has a big heart and is open about it when hr doesn't have to look them in the eye

8. decent! it's not like a Picasso or a van gogh, but it's better than a high schooler learning from a how to draw Manga book. he's been drawing for most of his life, and occasionally as work, so he's learned a thing or two

9. depends on the weather. In the winter, thick crew neck sweaters and fluffy pajama pants. In the summer, oversized t-shirts and boxers

10. fighting every inch of his body to stay calm. the boy is very claustrophobic but also very stubborn to never let anyone see when something is wrong

11. he had a couple of Very severe depressive episodes when he was in college. he is extremely grateful to have made it out alive

12. he has chronic jaw pain that only flares up a couple of times a year, and migraines that are triggered by flashing lights, which is pretty awful as an idol. it isn't so bad before the plus unit debuts, but he's out of commission for anything other than work for a long while before jihoonie forces him to get it treated

13. MUCH better than it used to be. he struggles every now and again when the stress gets to be too much, but between having age regression to cope and a support system in SVT, it rarely gets to a point where he's afraid of himself anymore

14. When they're around people that are clearly on the edge of snapping or yelling. it happens most around comeback season, when everyone is stressed. he's often found at Joshua's side during these times because he feels protected and safe, even though he's rarely in any real danger of being yelled at

15. Joshua and Jihoon HATE!!! shopping with Dalgi, because he is constantly getting distracted. they have to grab him by the sleeve and hold him, and have not-entirely-jokingly suggested getting him a leash. they learned VERY quickly to not let him and Hoshi go to get groceries together by themselves because he is just as bad

16. do something to upset one of his friends. not only will it piss him off, he WILL hold a grudge and won't let it go until you can prove that the friend has forgiven them completely

17. writing, especially in English. he struggles to get his mind organized (see the grocery store point) so he prefers to have time to untangle it before putting it into words, and likes being able to see it so he doesn't forget

18. train!! he loves the train. it's calm and he doesn't have to worry about the loud and scary airport or keeping the people he's in the car with from getting pissed off. he hates the airport the most because the flashing from the paparazzi always gives him a migraine, and the mobs of fans are absolutely terrifying and soul-sucking.

19. he's tiny and he grew up a redneck lmao

20. be corrected. he's still shaky at best with his korean, and he had zero dance experience before joining, so he has a LOT to learn

sorry Another One

(pro tip: name some ocs in the tags when you reblog this so newcomers can ask with ease, and be sure to send an ask to the person you reblog it from!)

How does your character handle trying new foods?

How would you describe your character's voice? Any interesting speech patterns or vocal quirks?

Is your character more the type to say nice things about somebody to their face or behind their back?

Your character is asked to name three of their strengths. What do they say?

If your character wanted to bring a beverage to work/class/on the go with them, what would they have?

What's something your character is excited about?

Does your character use phrases like "best friend" or "I love you" freely, or are they reserved for only certain people/situations?

You character has to draw a picture of someone they love. Who that is is up to you. How does it come out?

What does your character wear around the house?

Your character is trapped in an elevator for half an hour. How do they handle it?

Has your character ever had a serious illness, beyond whatever their typical health situation is? (i.e. chronic illness doesn't count but a complication that needed specialized treatment does)

How is your character's overall physical health? What does a good day and a bad day look like for them?

How is your character's overall mental health? What does a good day and a bad day look like for them?

Is there anything your character commonly encounters that they're afraid of?

Your character is grocery shopping. Do they stick solely to the list, or are they grabbing extra things? Do they even have a list?

What's the easiest way to piss off your character?

Does your character communicate better through speaking or writing, or some other method?

If arrival time isn't a pressing concern, what would be your character's preferred way to travel a long distance? What about least preferred?

What's something people pick on your character for, either playfully or with mean intent? If not to their face, behind their back?

Is your character more likely to correct someone or be corrected?

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

Seeing as Tails looked like he was on the verge of tears of joy when Sonic apologized to him and Knuckles, it shouldn't come as a shock that he hides his face in his brothers' chests

UGH, THESE BOYS WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME

[plethorawrites]

I love the secret gf stuff with Jason so much juat in general but you write it so incredibly well! It’s such a pleasure to read. Do u have any ideas or hcs about how the Batfam eventually finds out? My personal fav I’ve seen is Babs seeing a photo reader uploaded of Jason to their private ig that Babs somehow found anyways. Do you have a fav iteration of this theme or anything more like it?

I feel like the info hits one of them and spreads like an incredulous wildfire. (Ie. Once someone says something NO ONE believes them.) I think it would be most realistic if Roy slipped up to Dick, given he's in the Titans (yay for the recent issues) and Jay's close friend.

I think Roy would have 100% met you before and maybe even repeatedly to the point you have each other's phone numbers and the three of you occasionally go out for drinks, which is literally just him third wheeling while you sit in Jason's lap.

Needless to say, you're all close. And he's sworn to secrecy. Which he keeps up, for the most part.

Until he's on a stakeout with Dick and realizes it's where you and Jason were going for dinner... Cue confusion.

"Oh, shit, that's where Jay's date is..." He would mumble without even realizing it, more worried about the fact that the place might get blown up than about who was standing next to him.

Dick of course heard him and turned in disbelief. "Jason's what?!" He exclaimed. "He has a date?" Jason never went on dates. Ever. They had all tried a dozen times to get him to go out and he never did.

Roy quickly realized his mistake and (poorly) attempted to rectify it. "No. Of course not! Why would you think he's got a girlfriend? He has no game."

Dick's eyes widened. "I didn't say girlfriend, I said date because you said date. He's got a girlfriend?" He wasn't sure if he should be happy for his brother or try to kill him for hiding it. "Who is she? For how long?"

He'd instantly start trying to comb through his memories to find any signs he could have missed or start making assumptions about you based on his brother's type.

Roy promptly shuts the hell up and says nothing else. Dick, however, says plenty.

He tells the entire family, obviously.

And no one believes him.

He's a jokester and they think it's some elaborate stunt to get back at Jason for pissing him off. It takes weeks before any of them finally believe it and it's only because they start looking at Jason through the lens of someone with a significant other—something they never really considered.

He's always been a bit distant so no one ever considered that when he disappeared after a mission before check in he was actually calling you to make sure you knew he was safe. They notice the slight smell of something nicer lingering on him than his usual soap, because you liked it and he loved you. They realize the slightest discrepancy in his behavior in the field, how he's a bit more cautious and restrained because he doesn't want to risk getting hurt and facing your sad eyes.

Alfred, of course, knows. He's the one Jason always goes to for advice.

That's when the truth finally came out and Dick was believed. Jason had, like usual, gone to Alfred for advice, this time about the idea of proposing. He wanted to know if he thought it was the right time and of course Alfred told him if he was considering it to the point of asking for an opinion, then it was already a thought imbedded too deeply to push away.

A few weeks later, he was showing Alfred the ring when Damian, hungry for a snack after school walked into the kitchen and saw it. He then, promptly and politely excused himself from the room before loudly screaming "Grayson was right!" Through the whole house.

Jason just groaned, trying to escape before the endless questions could start. Not that it worked. They had him cornered in minutes and Dick looked like he had finally been validated.

"Who told you? Was it Roy?" He demanded, already envisioning ways to kill him.

"The better question is why didn't you?" He retorted. "We're supposed to know these sorts of things. Don't you think we'd be happy for you?"

That had nothing to do with it. He knew they would love you. They were just...a lot. A lot of trauma, a lot of darkness, a lot of danger. He already hated putting you in danger by association to him, he couldn't imagine what could happen if you got embedded in the entire family.

"I just- you're all are a bit hectic you know? She's not like us. I don't want her around all the trouble." And the endless embarrassing stories that his siblings could tell...but that was besides the point. "I want her to be safe and happy and...I didn't want to risk either by introducing her to you guys."

...

That...was the remarkabley sweet of him.

"I still need to meet her," Bruce would insist firmly.

[obito-in-disguise]

| How they handle falling for you, realistically |

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, Geto Suguru, and Kamo Choso.

Gojo Satoru

When Gojo Satoru realizes he's fallen for you, hard, he starts avoiding you completely.

Beneath his playful and confident exterior was an eerily serious demeanour that you rarely ever got to see, until now.

It hurt like hell.

Satoru went from showering you with his affection and time, to giving you curt responses and zero contact. The worst part? When you approached, he’d immediately turn away or take a long detour. As if the mere sight of you was too much.

His eyes widen when you suddenly burst into the supply closet he's been hiding in for the past twenty minutes, hurling a cardboard box filled with gifts and items he’d given you directly at his face the moment he opens his mouth to speak.

"Save it, Satoru. I don’t care anymore."

He grips the box tightly, knuckles white. The sorrow in your eyes was like a blade piercing through him, exactly what he didn’t want.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you. He’d convinced himself that distancing himself was the easiest way to end this. God, he was an idiot.

Quickly, he shoots up, grabbing your arm the moment you turn to walk away. He'd be damned if he didn't try to do something.

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

His voice is softer than usual, almost a whisper, in stark contrast to the force with which he holds onto your arm.

You inhale a shaky breath. "You could’ve just told me you didn’t feel the same way." Your gaze flickers anywhere but at him, fighting back the tears. This whole situation was humiliating.

As soon as the tears well up in your eyes, he instinctively pulls you into a crushing hug. He couldn’t stand to see you cry, especially because of him.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he repeats, voice trembling. "You deserve better…and that isn’t me. I’m no good for you." His face buries into the top of your hair, his words a whisper, pained and filled with regret.

That was it? That’s why he made you feel like garbage? You sigh, exhaling a breath of relief before pulling back and smacking his shoulder as hard as you can.

"-What…ow…" he clutches his arm, wide blue eyes staring at you in disbelief.

"You’re an idiot, Satoru" you say, softly this time, your hand gently caressing the spot you hit in a silent apology, but you grip it when you see him open his mouth to argue.

"I'm not a child, Satoru. I think I can decide what's good for me." You offer a small smile, one that immediately melts away all his defenses.

"And that’s you."

Ryomen Sukuna

Falling for someone was not in Sukuna's nature. Love was a weakness, a frivolity that he had neither the patience nor interest for. Yet, there you were, pulling threads of his attention he hadn’t willingly given.

You had been a prize he claimed during one of his many raids, a servant he’d kept around because, quite frankly, he found you amusing. He’d given you several opportunities to flee, and yet, you stubbornly stayed, either stupid or somehow enjoying his presence.

"You’re staring again" you said, not even looking up from the book you were reading.

"I can look at whatever I want. This is my kingdom" he replied, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

You snorted. "You're so humble too…"

His grin widened, sharp and predatory. "Careful, brat. I don’t take kindly to disrespect."

But his words lacked the venom they usually carried. He found himself indulging in this back-and-forth, this bizarre game where you didn’t fear him, where you met his taunts head-on. It was thrilling in ways he didn’t quite understand.

"Or what?" you say, flippantly lifting your feet and crossing them on top of his expensive furniture.

The other servants gasped in horror, half-expecting him to snap, but he simply barked out a laugh, flashing his sharp claws in a half-hearted scare.

"Care to find out?" he challenged, dragging one long talon up your pulse point.

Your eyes flicker to his, unimpressed. You yawn and put the book away before grabbing the hand by your neck, cuddling into it and closing your eyes.

Yep. He knew he had definitely fallen when he found himself staying still, barely breathing, so as not to disturb you as you fell asleep, resting against his large hand, a weapon of death and mass destruction.

As you slept soundly, he watched you in the dim light. He could end you with a flick of his wrist, yet the thought was unthinkable. You trapped him in a web of contradictions, frustrating, fascinating, infuriating.

Leaning closer, his voice softens into something almost contemplative as he whispers, "Congratulations, brat. You’ve done the unthinkable."

To love wasn’t his intention. But Sukuna didn’t play fair. If he was falling, he’d make sure you fell harder, and there would be no escape.

Nanami Kento

The realization hit him one evening when you insisted on walking with him home after a long mission.

Every one usually went home in groups or pairs depending on where they lived, but Nanami never had anyone to walk with him.

It wasn’t necessary, he told himself he couldn't care less but, there was something about being left alone that chipped at the human soul.

“You don’t have to do this” he said, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets to avoid brushing against yours.

You simply smile up at him. “But I want to.”

He kept replaying that simple statement over and over. It wasn’t extravagant or particularly sentimental, but it struck him.

"Besides, I think it's about time we become best friends don't you think Kento?"

He stares at you for a good minute wandering if you were crazy. He wasn't the most approachable of persons and he liked it that way, but here you were walking him home and extending an offer of best friendship to him like this was kindergarten.

If Nanami wasn't enthralled before, then he definitely was now.

He takes your heavy bag from your hand before slinging it over his shoulder, ignoring your look of surprise and subsequent grin of victory.

Having somebody to walk with home everyday wouldn't be that bad he decides.

"Consider this a formal acceptance"

Fushiguro Toji

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?” he grumbled, though the corner of his lips twitched upward when you laughed.

Toji wasn’t the type to fall for anyone anymore. Life had made him hard, and love had never been a luxury he could afford.

But you? You were the exception he never saw coming.

“Bother you? I’m the best company you’ll ever get, Fushiguro.”

He only said things like that to hopefully deter you but you didn’t back down, and somehow, that was what broke down his walls.

Every sharp comment, every cold glance he threw your way, you met with puzzling warmth instead.

He hated how easily you got under his skin, how he found himself looking forward to the moments you’d spend together, even if it was just you rambling about nothing while he pretended not to care.

Toji knew he wasn’t a good man. He didn’t deserve you, and he knew it. But the way you looked at him, like he was more than just the sum of his past mistakes, made him want to believe, even just for a moment, that he could be something more.

He sighs, wrapping his arm around you and all but pulling you into his side as he continues to watch TV lazily, the ghost of a smile on his lips when he hears you giggle.

This was going to be a pain, but when was Fushiguro Toji ever afraid of pain?

Geto Suguru

"Is it to your liking?" Suguru asked with his usual charm, his head resting on his fist as he played with your hair, sitting across from you.

Suguru could feel his heart pounding louder when you smiled and nodded before sipping the tea he made.

He’d always been selfish, he knew it. He shouldn’t let himself feel this way, shouldn’t let himself dream of a life where you smiled at him every day.

You had no idea what he harbored, what he was about to become. No matter how hard he tried to rid himself of these thoughts, you’d seep into his mind relentlessly.

"What are you thinking of Sugu?" you asked, setting your cup aside and intertwining your hand with his on the table.

He simply smiled in response, pulling your hand to his lips to place a lingering kiss.

He would let himself fall for you, indulge in you, before he had to let you go, before you would eventually face the horrors he would become.

Kamo Choso

You nearly jump out of your skin when you turn around and immediately come face to face with Choso.

"Choso! what are you doing!"

He immediately takes a few steps back "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you"

You sigh nodding. Staying mad at Choso is impossible, especially when he looks at you like that, like a kicked puppy.

"I have strange feelings for you" he immediately blurts out as soon as he sees that you're ok.

The confession stops you in your tracks. “What?” you ask, eyes widening.

"When I'm around you, my heart feels funny, and the other day when that guy put his hand on your shoulder, I wanted to rip his guts out-"

"woah! ok Choso, I get it" you chuckle, patting his shoulder.

"I just wanted you to know" he murmurs softly, fiddling with his fingers. He knew people got together when they had these strange feelings for eachother and more than ever he wanted that to be you and him. So he had to tell you, even if you didn't feel the same way. You were a chance he was always willing to gamble on.

"Well Choso..." you start, grabbing his hand softly before stepping closer. "Today's your lucky day because I have strange feelings for you too"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he can't stop himself. He scoops you up into a bone crushing hug, laughing along with you. Even if you hadn't said yes, Choso was more than grateful to have you in his life.

Feel free to check out my other Jujutsu Kaisen fics and more stories!

[dinogoofymutated]

Jealousy headcannons! Multi/GN!Reader - Cable, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Quicksilver. Ok I know this wasn't on the schedule butttt Yeahhhh. Cable is going to have an extended version of his fic, and I might do the same for the others but no promises! Also I know that Cable's written half is literally just the snippet I shared with some minor edits but bear with me please his stuff is in the works!!! TWs: Jelousy. Barfights. No violence on Reader but men are creepy. Mentions of sex work. Cable and gambit make public spectacles it's just what they do. The return of wolverine and the X-men Pietro bc I love him

Cable

Look, any man who comes over to flirt with you after you walk in with a legit wall of muscle has to be either stupid or blind.

Cable is by no means a very jealous man. He's not gonna care if a man (or woman) approaches you and starts up a conversation. He might get a little frustrated if they start flirting with you, but he trusts you. He knows you can take care of yourself and he doesn't want you to feel like he's got you on a leash.

But when someone is being persistent, not taking no for an answer, and hell, putting their hands on you? He doesn't take it too well. He's more of an overprotective type when it comes to his flavor of jealousy.

    “That beer for me, Beautiful?” The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you don’t even think he’s talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. He’s sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he can’t quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cable’s beer closer.

    “Last time I checked it wasn’t.” You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.

    “Oh c'mon, don’t play hard to get. I’m chill!” You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.

    “Sure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.” You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that he’d at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't. 

    “What Husband?” The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. It’s not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the man’s wrist caught in Cable’s literal iron-clad grip. 

    “This Husband.” Cable grunts.

    All of the blood drains from the stranger’s face in an instant, but it doesn’t take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cable’s grip, but Cable’s arm doesn’t move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cable’s strength many times, but this… well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.

    “What’s your problem, man?” The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and were getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cable’s shoulder a hard pat as you desperately tried to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable ignores the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.

    “ -s’ an ugly bitch, anyway.” The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he should’ve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide you’ve definitely stayed past your welcome.

Gambit

Gambit is probably the most jealous man in this lineup. Again, He will get fidgety and somewhat aggressive when someone approaches you and begins to flirt, but he trusts you. He doesn't want you to think he doesn't, and as a result, he tends to grit his teeth and bite his tongue to keep himself in check.

There's definitely a very, very thin line in between "I don't want to be overbearing" Remy and "This guy needs to take the fucking hint" Remy.

He's mostly fine with drunk bastards, He thinks they're funny, and as long as they're not bothering you for the most part he'll keep the aggression to a minimum. -But the one thing he absolutely cannot stand is snobby pricks who think they can steal you from him because he's a "swamp rat."

"It's a shame to see such a lovely creature like you standing here all alone." You try not to roll your eyes at the man that approaches you. You and Remy were supposed to have a nice, romantic night out. It was your anniversary, and Remy had told you that he wanted to pull out all the stops for this one. Unfortunately, fate wasn't on either of your sides today. The X-men needed Gambit, and you told him that the plans can wait for another time. Remy, in a very gambit fashion, told you to dress up anyway and he bet he would meet you there. Definitely a rather High-stakes gamble, but you loved him, so you said you'd hold him to it.

Unfortunately for you, it looked like the restaurant was hosting an event at the bar for what looked like a rather stuffy- sorry, High-end law firm. You had been content with waiting for Remy, even if the waitress clearly looked convinced he was standing you up. You had ordered something to drink while you waited, and caught the wrong kind of attention during your trip to the bar.

"I'm not alone, I'm waiting for someone." You say, flashing him an annoyed smile. He smiles back in a smartass kind of way, flashing you his Rolex as he pushes up his glasses. Great. He thinks you're a sugar baby- or maybe a sex worker. Either way, you really wished he was anywhere but here.

"Right. I'll be honest with you, I know you've been waiting here for what- and hour now? Hour and a half? Any guy that leaves you here for that long is not worth your time, sweetheart." You cringe at the nickname, but he clearly can't seem to tell. At this point, you start debating your options. You could run to the bathroom, but there weren't any windows you could crawl out of and he could wait at the door for you to come out. You could try to leave, but you didn't want Remy to think that you left him hanging. It's probably best if you stay and wait for him, but man was this guy getting on your nerves.

"Again, I'm waiting on someone. I'm choosing to wait on him, and frankly, I'm not interested in you." You say bluntly, getting more and more aggravated. The man only smirks at you.

"You're certainly a fiesty one. Don't worry, I like it when they play hard to get." He sends you wink that makes you want to sock him, and to be honest, you start to think about it. The bell at the door of the restaurant dings, and you glance over, face breaking out in a smile at the sight of the man you had been waiting on.

Remy was still in his x-men suit, obviously having come fresh from the fight. He's got some dirt on his face, and his hair is a little messier than normal, but you had never been so happy to see him.

"Well, don't you clean up well." You joke as Remy walks to your table. He chuckles, barely sparing the other man a side-eye before picking up your hand to kiss it.

"Sorry, Chère. Originally, I planned on changin', but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you here for another moment." Remy's fond gaze turns into a bit of a glare when he finally looks over at the gobsmacked man across the table from you. "I see you've made a new friend?" You roll your eyes at that, shaking your head. Remy gets the message.

There's a gasp from the other patrons of the restaurant, as the sound the contact made was rather loud. There's already a red mark forming on the mans face as you take Remy by the hand and begin to lead him out of the restaurant. Remy is looking at you like he'd fallen in love with you all over again.

"You've been waiting all this time for some Cajun freak?" The man blurts out, finally having found his words.

"Watch it, Mon ami." Remy's shoulders tense as he snarls at the prick. You stand up, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze before you walk in front of the man. The side of his mouth slightly upturns as you do so, right before you slap the everloving shit out of him.

"I know you really wanted for us to eat here, honey, but to be honest? I like your cooking better anyway."

Nightcrawler

Kurt? Jealous???

Absolutely. He absolutely gets jealous. Kurt is much more of a "cat" kind of jealous than a Guard Dog kind of jealous though. He's not going to do anything crazy like punch anyone, but he's gonna brush up against you, slide his tail around your waist, hold your hand. He wants reassurance from you more than he is angered by whoever is flirting with you.

That's not to say he's not angry. He doesn't like the way some people look at you like a piece of meat instead of the intelligent, beautiful person you are, and he's not afraid to call people out on it.

Kurt knew that the guy you were talking to right now was only stopping to ask you for directions, but he really didn't like how close to you the guy was. Kurt had gone off to get you something to eat from the street food vendor nearby, telling you to just relax and he would be back soon.

When he returned with food in hand, it was obvious to him what was happening, but he still couldn't help but frown. The man is leaning into your space as he shows you the map in his hands. It's fine. There was obviously nothing really going on, the stranger must have been simply touchy. He then watches as the man sets a hand on the back of your waist to point at a building up ahead, and Kurt's mind quickly changes.

Obviously, you had stepped out of the stranger's reach quickly, uncomfortable with the action, but Kurt still slinked up to your side like a cat, pulling you close with his tail as he hands you your food, resting his newly freed hand behind your back.

"There you are, Meine Liebe. I hope you didn't wait for too long." Kurt says sweetly, giving you a grin. You smile back at him, thanking him for the food. You felt relieved to see him. Sure, the stranger that had been speaking to you seemed to be a nice man, but there was a certain amount of comfort and security Kurt provided when he was near you. Kurt makes a show of leaning in and kissing you on the cheek that makes you giggle. The stranger clears his throat after a quick moment.

"-Sorry if I interrupted your date. I appreciate the directions!" He says quickly, face flushed red from embarresment.

"You're perfectly fine! I hope you're able to find what you're looking for alright." You respond sweetly, waving as the man walks off. Kurt is pouting again when you look at him, tail still wrapped comfortably around you. You can't help but giggle.

"You're so jealous." You laugh. Kurt gives you an innocent look as he brushes off the accusation.

"Whaaat? No. Ich habe dich vermisst. That is all!"

Quicksilver

I'm not even gonna lie the fic half of this is just part of that enemies to lovers hcs that I wrote

anyway!!

Pietro is a very pouty, bratty kind of Jealous.

Like sure he trusts you and all but you actually looked at someone else while they were speaking to you? >:[ Don't look at them. Look at him. Smile at him not them. You're laughing at something they said? Well, he's funnier than them!!

He's just, so pouty over the smallest, pettiest things. He just needs a smooch on the forehead and some reassurance and also possibly cuddles, and he'll be fine. God he's such a brat ILHSM

However, If someone is actually flirting with you or going too far and making you uncomfortable, he will in fact throw hands. Or do his speedster thing and find a way to embarrass them, like pantsing them or planting something embarrassing on them. One time he snatched a guy's cell and called his wife before planting it in the man's pocket so she could hear all the flirting he was doing. Now that was fun.

"So I heard you had dinner with the wolfie guy tonight." The sound of Pietro's voice makes you yelp in surprise. You whirl around to see him leaning against the wall of your room, arms crossed. You scoff, and pick a pillow off of your bed to chuck it at him. He catches it easily.

"His name is Logan, and No. Not really. All we did was happen to sit next to each other at dinner." You turn back around to sit at your vanity, but Pietro is already there, sitting on the stool with the pink pillow tucked into his arms.

"So you did have dinner with him?" He pouts. You roll your eyes at him, holding back a laugh as you shove him off the seat. He looses his balance for less than a second before there's a gust and he's sitting cross-legged on your bed, having tossed the pillow to the side.

"What does it matter to you, anyway? You're not even supposed to be here, Pietro." You tease as you sit down, unable to keep yourself from smiling. You comb through your hair as you ready yourself for bed, still grinning like an idiot as you hear Pietro huff and haw.

"Why shouldn't it matter?" He asks, watching as you complete your routine. "I- I have a reason to care." He stutters out cheeks flushing a light pink that reaches his ears. You cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

"Don't laugh!" Pietro objects, and it sends you into a fit of laughter as you stand back up and flop onto your back on the bed next to him.

"He's not my type anyway." You say. It only takes a second before Pietro is leaning over you, caging you between his arms. There's the ghost of a grin beginning to form on his face, simply at the sight of your own cheesy expression.

"What is your type, then?" He asks, and you cock an eyebrow at him.

"Let's just say I prefer a man who can keep up with me." You say with a wink that may or may not have been the most terribly, corny action you could have done. Pietro doesn't seem to care as his face is split with an equally as corny grin.

Both of you are caught off guard by someone calling your same from the hallway, and then a knock shortly after. You take Pietro's moment of distraction and quickly lean up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Pietro looks absolutely shocked.

"You better get going." You whisper. He smiles at you, almost in disbelief, and then he's gone, the window left open and the breeze catching on curtains, blowing gently.

[dreaming-of-tae]

♡ skz finding out they're dating an idol

How'd They Find Out? How'd They React? How'd They Handle It?

➜ fluff/angst w/ comfort . gn!reader

ch : bangchan . leeknow . changbin . hyunjin . han . felix . seungmin . i.n

warnings : emotional conflict / angst , mild cursing / intensity: (very mild) , romantic themes , mentions of fame/idol industry pressures

[﹒notes] - My first straykids post!! hope you guys enjoy this as I put a lot of time in ✩ as of now my requests are open so if you have any requests feel free to send them in~ These headcanon/stories are written in a more angsty way, because of how serious being an idol is ♡

Bang Chan (방찬)

You and Chan had been dating in private for nearly a year. It wasn’t exactly a secret relationship, but both of you kept it far away from the public eye. You were always vague about your career, describing yourself as “in the entertainment industry” but never elaborating. You always told yourself you’d come clean eventually — once the time was right.

But the truth was, you were an idol preparing to debut with a major company. And when your group finally debuted, everything changed.

The news came out not from you, but through the industry grapevine. JYP staff began murmuring about a new rookie group shaking the charts — and Chan’s ears perked up when he heard your name associated with them.

At first, he thought it was a coincidence. Maybe someone who just had the same name. But then he saw the teaser.

Your face.

Your voice.

Your debut.

He watched the performance in his studio late one night, headphones in, heart pounding. He didn't even realize he was gripping the armrest of his chair until his fingers went numb. It wasn't just that you were an idol. It was the fact that you'd kept it from him — someone who prided himself on being open, trustworthy, and understanding in relationships.

When you finally walked into his studio the next day, it was quiet. Too quiet.

He didn’t yell. Chan never did. But his silence was louder than any shouting could be.

“You debuted,” he said, not looking up from his laptop.

You tried to explain — how scared you were, how much pressure you were under, how much you wanted to tell him but didn’t want to ruin your shot or involve him in any scandal. Your voice cracked, but you kept going.

“I wasn’t hiding you, I was hiding me,” you told him, near tears.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, exhaling slowly.

“You know I’d never be mad at you for chasing your dream,” he said softly. “But... I thought we were in this together. I thought we shared everything.”

That line stung more than anything.

It takes time. Chan isn’t one to hold grudges, but he feels things deeply. He spends days reflecting — not just on your relationship, but on what it meant for you to feel like you couldn’t trust him with something so big.

Eventually, he reaches out, asking to meet. This time, he's warmer, a little more relaxed.

“You looked incredible on stage,” he admits, smiling shyly. “I’m proud of you.”

He apologizes for his coldness, but also asks you to let him in — even when things are messy, complicated, or scary. “We’re idols,” he says. “We know this life isn’t easy. But I want to share it with you.”

From that point on, he’s your biggest supporter — attending shows in secret, leaving notes in your dressing room when he can, and giving you vocal tips late at night.

He doesn’t love that your schedules now clash and your careers are public property, but he accepts it. Because at the end of the day, you’re still you — and he’s still the guy who fell in love with you, long before the world knew your name.

Lee Know (리노)

Minho had always suspected you were “more than you let on.” The way you carried yourself, the way you avoided certain questions, the way your phone always lit up with messages from people labeled only with emojis. You were mysterious — something he found intriguing.

You’d been together quietly for a little over six months, and while Minho wasn’t the kind of guy to push boundaries, he was observant. Very observant.

Then it happened — your group dropped a surprise debut showcase.

And there you were. Center stage. Flawless. Charismatic. An idol.

Minho sat there in his dorm room, your face filling his screen, members buzzing around him, exclaiming “Wait — isn’t that…?”

He didn’t say a word.

Just stared.

And then left the room.

You knew you had to tell him — and you were already on your way over when your phone started buzzing. A message from Minho: “We need to talk.”

When you arrived, his expression was unreadable. Arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he’d been waiting hours.

“So,” he said, voice clipped. “Anything you want to share?”

You tried to explain — the contracts, the company’s PR strategy, your own fears. But Minho’s eyebrows raised.

“Don’t tell me it was all about timing. You had months.”

His voice was sharper than usual. He wasn’t angry in the explosive way — he was angry in the quiet, disappointed way that only someone who’s truly hurt can be.

“I don’t care that you’re an idol,” he finally said. “I care that you didn’t trust me enough to be honest.”

You stood there, feeling like the world had dropped out from under you.

But you didn’t give up. You reached for his hand. “Minho… I didn’t know how. I didn’t want you to think I was using you. Or lying. Or trying to compete. I was scared I’d lose you.”

Something shifted in his expression at that.

Lee Know doesn’t forgive easily — but he does listen.

It takes a long conversation, a lot of silence, and a few sarcastic jabs (“So do I have to call you sunbaenim now?”), but eventually, he lets down the walls again.

Minho is surprisingly vulnerable when you crack through the tough outer shell. He opens up about how he’s always struggled with trust — how hard it is to feel close to people when the industry is full of masks.

“But I want to trust you,” he admits quietly, “so let me.”

From then on, he becomes fiercely protective. He never shows it in dramatic ways, but it’s there — the texts checking in after your late-night schedules, the hand squeeze before a big stage, the teasing messages when you post a killer performance.

He’ll never say “I’m your number one fan” out loud, but he doesn’t have to.

He’s the one watching your fancams at 2 AM when he thinks no one’s looking. The one who subtly retweets your group’s success through fan accounts. The one who learns your choreography just to mockingly dance it in front of you — only to get every step exactly right.

Changbin (창빈)

Dating Changbin had been like finding home. He was warm, goofy, emotionally intelligent, and one of the few idols who knew how to switch off the performance face when the cameras were gone. You met him through a mutual friend, and your relationship bloomed over late-night ramen, playlists, and gym sessions.

He knew you were “in music,” but you always steered the conversation away when it got too close to your career specifics.

You’d rehearsed how to tell him the truth so many times. But your company’s unexpected early debut announcement forced your hand before you were ready. One minute, you were planning your next date with him; the next, your debut stage was trending on Twitter.

He didn’t find out from you.

He found out on Instagram, scrolling through hashtags, when a photo of you in full stage makeup from a press showcase filled his feed. He blinked, confused.

Wait. That was you. Center stage. Surrounded by dancers. Dressed in a designer outfit.

The caption read: [Name], center of [Group Name], the next big thing in K-pop.

He sat in stunned silence, your unopened text from earlier still sitting on his phone screen.

It read: “Can we talk later tonight? Please.”

You showed up to his studio hours later, already anticipating the hurt in his eyes.

He wasn’t angry — not in the explosive sense. But Changbin felt things deeply, and that depth was now tinged with betrayal.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly, fingers fiddling with the drawstring on his hoodie. “Was I… just someone to pass time with until you debuted?”

You rushed to explain — how scared you were of being seen as someone using him, how your company warned you not to get involved romantically before debut, how you’d planned to tell him when the timing felt safer.

“I didn’t want you to see me differently,” you whispered.

“I already saw you,” he said. “The real you. That’s why it hurts.”

Changbin spirals a bit. Not dramatically — but internally. He overthinks, questions every moment, replays your interactions, wondering if there were signs he missed. But despite all the confusion and hurt, he doesn’t give up on you.

He just needs time.

You give him space, unsure if he’ll reach back out — but a few days later, he does. He texts you a selfie of him holding up your debut album, captioned: “I still meant it when I said I liked you. That hasn’t changed.”

When you meet again, the air is gentler. You talk — really talk. He admits his insecurities. You show him your practice clips and share how long you’ve dreamed of this.

From that point on, he becomes your unofficial hype man. He studies your choreo so he can do your fanchants, sneaks your songs into his playlists, and even writes a verse about you for a mixtape — cryptic enough not to be obvious, but personal enough that you know.

His love is loud, even if his pain was quiet. And in the end, he never stops believing in you — or the version of you he fell for long before the lights hit your stage.

Hyunjin (현진)

Being with Hyunjin felt like walking through an art museum — every moment was soaked in feeling, beauty, and subtle intensity. He was affectionate, expressive, and deeply attentive. He'd write little poems for you, draw doodles on your hands when you were bored, and always looked at you like you were a masterpiece.

You adored him for that. And it made keeping your secret even harder.

Your debut had been quietly brewing for over a year, and your company was famously strict. Dating wasn’t just frowned upon — it was a career risk. So you said nothing, afraid to jeopardize your shot or his.

But when your group's debut MV dropped and the internet lit up with reactions, it didn’t take long for Hyunjin to put the pieces together. He knew your mannerisms, your eyes, the tilt of your head. He recognized you instantly.

But what crushed him wasn’t that you were an idol.

It was that he had to find out with the rest of the world.

You found him in his apartment the next evening — music off, curtains drawn, sketchbook open but untouched. He looked up when you entered, his eyes unreadable.

“Why didn’t you trust me with this?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You sat beside him, heart thudding, and told him everything — the fears, the company’s threats, the guilt. You confessed how each day that passed without telling him made it harder to come clean. How you hated yourself for not trusting the person who treated you like you hung the stars.

“I wanted to protect what we had,” you said. “But I ended up hurting you.”

He didn’t respond for a long while. Then, slowly, he handed you his sketchbook.

Inside was a drawing of you — in your debut outfit, mid-performance, surrounded by stage lights. But your eyes in the sketch were sad. Lonely.

“I drew this after I saw the video,” he said. “Because I knew you weren’t celebrating.”

Hyunjin is emotional, yes — but he’s also wise beyond his years. He doesn’t push you away. Instead, he leans into his feelings, into the pain, and finds a way to make art out of it.

He asks for honesty moving forward, no matter how difficult. And you promise.

He becomes your quiet anchor — someone who understands the duality of fame and intimacy. He starts leaving notes in your bag before fanmeets, texts you affirmations after live stages, and watches your content with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

Sometimes, it’s hard — when your names are trending for different reasons, when rumors swirl, when the distance grows. But Hyunjin never stops showing up. He creates playlists titled “For When You’re Tired” and draws little comics of your imaginary life if you were just two art students instead of idols.

And though he found out the truth in a way that broke his heart, he still chooses you — every version of you.

The star version of you.

And the person behind both.

Han (한)

Dating Jisung was like living in a comedy-drama series with the most chaotic yet golden-hearted lead. He was silly, loud, unpredictable — but beneath it all, he had the most fragile heart and softest soul. He constantly sought reassurance and was always the first to make you laugh when things got heavy.

You connected through mutual friends at a casual get-together, and from day one, he made it clear how serious he was about you — in his goofy, offbeat way. You’d always deflected questions about your career by saying you were “training in music production” or “working behind the scenes,” and he never pushed you too hard.

Until your debut hit the internet.

Jisung wasn’t scrolling for gossip. He was looking for new music releases when he saw the thumbnail: your name — your face — and a “Debut MV” tag.

He clicked without thinking. Half-curious. Half-worried.

As the video played and your voice rang through his speakers, reality cracked open.

His first reaction? Shock — mouth open, hands paused in midair, eyes wide.

Then came confusion. And then silence.

When you texted him later that day with a simple: “Can we talk? Please.” — he didn’t answer right away.

Not because he was angry.

Because his brain was moving at 200mph, and his heart was dragging behind.

He met you that night outside the dorms — hoodie on, hands in his pockets, face unreadable.

“You’re an idol?” he asked softly. “All this time?”

You explained everything — the contracts, the NDAs, your fear of losing him. The guilt of holding something so big back.

His lip twitched. “You thought I wouldn’t be okay with it? Or… you didn’t trust me enough to try?”

The pain in his voice wasn’t loud. It was wounded, quiet, like a joke that didn’t land.

“I tell you everything,” he added. “Every stupid fear. Every song lyric I write. Every dream. You’ve heard me at my worst.”

He wasn’t yelling. He was disappointed. And that hurt more than if he had screamed.

Jisung needs time to process. He hides in his music — writes endless lyrics about masks, mirrors, and miscommunication. He makes jokes to his members to downplay how confused he feels, but you can tell it sits heavy on his chest.

Then one night, he calls you — just your name, softly.

“Come to the studio.”

When you arrive, he plays you a demo — raw vocals, stripped beat, lyrics that feel like reading his heart on a page.

“You danced in the dark / while I thought we were in the light / I loved you blind / but now I see in black and white…”

You sit in silence when it ends.

“I wrote it the night I found out,” he says. “But it’s not a goodbye song.”

You exhale shakily. “Then what is it?”

“It’s a ‘try again’ song.”

From then on, he’s different — more open about his fears, but also fiercely protective of your dream. He teases you about “idol mode,” helps you brainstorm stage names, even gives you random awards like “Best Outfit Slay” and “Most Likely to Outshine Me.”

He’s scared, yes. But love — real love — makes him brave enough to stay.

Felix (필릭스)

Dating Felix was like basking in warmth. He had that rare kind of energy — grounding, healing, and gentle. You met during a joint industry charity event, and your connection was instant. He was attentive, deeply curious about you, and always made you feel like the most important person in the room.

But from the start, you knew he was honest to a fault. Felix didn’t play games. He gave love openly, and he expected that same vulnerability in return.

Which is why you feared telling him the truth: that you were on the verge of debuting as an idol, that your company had forbidden any public or even private relationships without disclosure, and that you were falling for him faster than you ever expected.

Felix found out through a mutual friend — accidentally.

Someone sent him a message: “Isn’t this your girlfriend?” with a screenshot of a teaser poster.

Your face. Center of a highly anticipated girl group debut.

He stared at it, brows furrowed, phone shaking in his hand.

He didn’t speak to anyone about it. He waited until he could see you.

When you met up, he didn’t waste time. He held up the image on his phone.

“You’re debuting?” he asked, tone heartbreakingly calm.

You nodded, ready for the storm. But it never came.

He took a step back, swallowing hard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You fumbled for the words — how you feared jeopardizing your career, how you thought if you waited just a little longer, it would be easier.

“But you let me love you,” he said quietly. “Without the truth.”

The pain wasn’t in his words — it was in his eyes.

Felix isn’t someone who gives up easily. But he also doesn’t let himself be treated like an afterthought. He takes a step back — not to punish you, but to center himself.

He talks to Chan. To his sister. He journaled a lot. He tried to understand whether your secrecy was about mistrust, or fear, or something else entirely.

Eventually, he meets with you again — on a quiet rooftop, where he used to go when the trainee life felt too heavy.

“I’ve had my own secrets too,” he says, staring at the skyline. “But I’ve always believed love needs honesty, or it won’t last.”

You nod, tears in your eyes. “I’m ready to be honest. Now. With everything.”

He looks at you then — really looks. And he smiles.

Not his fan-service smile.

But his smile. The one only people he loves get to see.

“You were always a star,” he says. “I guess now the rest of the world gets to see it too.”

From that point on, Felix becomes your safest place. He watches all your stages, encourages your self-care, and finds clever ways to support you publicly without ever exposing your relationship.

He’s proud of you.

And he reminds you every day: that you can shine in the spotlight and still be held in love — safely, quietly, fiercely — when the lights go down.

Seungmin (승민)

Seungmin wasn’t the type to fall easily, but when he did, it was intentional. You’d met him through a friend who worked in radio, and what started as casual banter turned into long coffee shop dates filled with dry humor and quiet companionship.

He liked that you were grounded. You shared thoughts about music, books, even your frustrations with the entertainment industry. But whenever he asked specifics about your work, you deflected — said you were “support staff,” or “still finding your path.” He respected your privacy. He always did.

That is, until your face showed up unexpectedly on a massive LED screen in Hongdae — part of a pre-debut countdown campaign for a new girl group.

It took him a few seconds to register that it was you.

Wearing stage makeup. In costume. Smiling like the whole world was finally seeing the dream you’d been hiding.

That night, you showed up to his apartment without asking. You knew he’d seen it.

He didn’t yell. That wasn’t Seungmin.

He opened the door, stepped aside, and let you in. The silence wasn’t cold — it was focused. You sat across from him on the couch, bracing yourself.

He finally spoke, voice calm but painfully steady: “How long were you going to keep it from me?”

You tried to explain — the non-disclosure, the risk of rumors, the company’s iron grip on trainee relationships. But as you spoke, he stared down at his hands, barely blinking.

“Do you know how many people I’ve pushed away because I didn’t think they could handle my world?” he asked quietly. “I chose you. And you couldn’t even give me the truth.”

It stung. Not because he was angry — but because he wasn’t. He sounded tired.

You reached out to touch his hand, but he gently pulled it back.

“I just need time to think,” he said. “About whether we’ve both been in the same relationship this whole time.”

Seungmin goes quiet for a few days. Not out of malice, but because he doesn’t do emotional decisions impulsively. He talks to his members. He takes long walks. He listens to music without lyrics — classical, instrumental, film scores — trying to find his own voice in the noise.

Eventually, he texts you: “I want to talk. In person.”

When you meet again, he’s still calm — but different. Not guarded. Resolved.

“I’m not angry that you’re an idol,” he says. “I’m proud. I’ve always known there was something special in you.”

He takes your hand.

“But I need honesty. Even when it’s messy. Even when it might hurt.”

You promise — this time without deflection.

From then on, Seungmin becomes your quiet protector. He won’t show it in grand gestures, but in consistent ones — sending you your favorite coffee before music shows, editing your practice videos with helpful notes, reminding you not to lose yourself in the chaos of fame.

He’s still skeptical sometimes — especially when fans speculate, or when your schedules keep you apart. But his love isn’t loud. It’s reliable.

And when he sees you on stage for the first time, he smiles — not because you’re an idol, but because you’re still you. And that’s who he fell for.

I.N (아이엔)

Jeongin had always been playful, gentle, a little shy in interviews — but in real life, he’d grown into someone confident and self-aware. He laughed easily, cared deeply, and had a surprisingly steady presence beneath the youthful energy.

You met him during a vocal workshop and bonded over late-night convenience store runs and shared Spotify playlists. He admired how humble and grounded you were — never knowing that underneath it all, you were hiding a career just weeks away from exploding.

When your debut came, it wasn’t a slow reveal.

It was a bombshell.

You were the surprise center of a new girl group with a viral pre-debut TikTok campaign. Fancams. Headlines. Trending hashtags.

Jeongin was in the dorm, half-laughing with Han over snacks, when Felix’s phone buzzed.

“Wait — isn’t this Y/N?”

And the room went quiet.

He didn’t text you.

He didn’t call.

Instead, he waited — unsure whether to confront you, or wait for you to explain.

You beat him to it, showing up the next evening with a bag of tteokbokki and a soft apology.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

His smile was polite, but distant.

“I guess I never really knew you, huh?” he said, softly.

That broke your heart more than yelling would’ve.

“I didn’t lie,” you said. “I just… hid. Because I thought if you saw the whole picture, you’d treat me like a brand, not a person.”

His expression softened, but he looked down at his hands.

“I didn’t fall for a brand,” he whispered. “I fell for someone who laughed at my dumb jokes, who sang off-key with me at karaoke, who looked me in the eye like I mattered.”

You blinked back tears.

“And you still matter,” you said. “More than any debut. More than any stage.”

Jeongin surprises you.

He’s more mature than people give him credit for. After a few days of reflection, he comes to you — with questions, yes, but also with his heart open.

He asks about your training. About your fears. About your dreams — not your image.

Once he understands it wasn’t about deceit, but about survival, he forgives you. Fully.

And from that moment on, he becomes your safe place. He checks in before every big performance. Sends you goofy voice notes to cheer you up. Hypes you up anonymously online with burner accounts. Leaves little gifts in your locker when your schedules cross paths.

But he also keeps you accountable.

“When we’re together,” he says, “it’s not idol to idol. It’s just you and me. Real. No masks.”

He doesn’t treat you like glass. He treats you like a partner. Equal. Respected.

And when he watches you on stage, he claps the loudest — not because he’s watching an idol rise.

But because he’s watching his person do what they were born to do.

[just-a-sweet-girl]

Hii omg THANK U for opening requests for DMC just finished the Netflix show and I am now a fan lmao anyways ! Can I get Dantexreader who are in a beginning of a relationship but dante has yet to show his demon form to reader? Reader could be catching glimpses of his red eyes. Could eventually ask to see etc but ya! Just an idea that scratched my brain. Thanks in advance!! <3

Thank you for the request <3

Demons existing wasn't exactly a secret to you. As a kid, you're elementary school had been attacked and to this day, you had no idea if it had been planned or random. To be fair, you didn't want to know, surviving it had been more than enough.

So, it wasn't all that hard to believe your boyfriend of 3 months explained that he was half-human, half-demon. He's never harmed you, or even tried to, Dante was a great boyfriend. So you stayed.

Lately, however, you've begun to notice some new things happening. Like last night during a heated make out session. Things had been going as usual until you caught a glimpse of red in his eyes. The sight made a small, surprised sound escape you while pulling back.

"Dante, your e-" His large hand covers your own eyes. Brows furrowing, you reach out for him, hands gripping his shirt. "...Dante?"

"It's nothing, just..." He heaves a sigh. Still not removing his hand until he knew his eyes were back to normal. "I'm tired, that job earlier took a lot outta me!"

You didn't really believe him, yet you still nod. Hands cupping his face gently to gaze at his eyes. His now, very blue eyes. You smile. "Let's go to bed then... I'll even cook breakfast in the morning."

Dante grins, feeling better now that the subject has changed. Placing a noisy kiss on her forehead. "You're the best, babe!"

It happens a few more times after that. And each time, Dante came up with some excuse to run away or cover your eyes. He even went as far as throwing his coat over your head one time during a demon attack. Even though you had already see his eyes red, his form beginning to change. It was starting to bother you how secretive he was being about this.

Did he not trust you?

"Hey, hey, pretty. What's wrong?" His voice called out, cupping her face in his large hands.

you blink a few times and his face comes into focus. You didn't realize that Dante came home already. His expression filled with worry as he tried to look you over. You didn't think the thought of him not trusting you would have made you cry, but it did.

"You're eyes go red." you sniffle, getting straight to the point. "I accepted you being half-demon, so, i understand you would have some characteristics."

He called your name.

"Why do you hide it from me?" you whisper, hands holding his. "It doesn't matter to me if you have blue or red eyes. Or any other appearance besides the one i see now. You will always be Dante."

You finally see that vulnerability in him. "I don't want to scare you away." His forehead rests upon your own. eyes closing for a moment as he debates within himself.

"You won't." Then, you say, "Show me."

Dante close his eyes. Brows scrunched together as he hesitates. Even though you're asking to see, he was scared. What if you screamed and ran away from him? It hurt to think, but that might be the better outcome for you...

But you don't do any of that.

Smiling softly at the sight you only caught glimpses of. Nose brushing against his. "You're still my handsome Dante." The words are enough to have his smile return. "Red does suit you, after all."

[chrisbesitos]

troublemaker!chris 'n younger!reader met for the first time.

you are feeling kinda overwhelmed, this party is being too much for you and you're just there for matt, because the party is in his house. while he talks and drinks with his friends, you stepped out of the living room, looking for a quiet place. the loud music is pumping on your ears, you huff and push the bathroom door. instead of finding an empty place, you find a boy smoking a cigarette inside.

"oh, 'm sorry. i thought the bathroom was free." you say. your hand is still on the knob, chewing your lower lip.

"'s fine, you can use it." the boy says, his cigarette hanging on his lips. he lifts to getting out of the bathroom, but you shake your head, getting inside and leaning in the door.

"you can stay, i just need a minute of silence." you say, opening a gentle smile. the boy shakes his shoulders, murmuring something, he sits back on the toilet lid while a cloud of smoke comes out of his mouth. "what are you doing here alone?"

"are you blind or sum', kid?" he murmurs, his eyebrows frowned at you.

"hm, 'm sorry." you say, feeling your cheeks getting flushed by the embarrassment. you tilt your head, noticing the boy looks familiar, you narrow your eyes until you realize he looks like matt, your best friend, but his hair is longer, his eyes look more darker and he has a noticeable bruise on his upper lip. "are you matt's brother? it's chris, isn't it?"

chris slowly nods his head, taking a big hint of his cigarette, you almost couldn't see his face behind the white smoke. you lean over the sink, resting your elbows on it. chris' waiting for you to go away, but for some — weirdo — reason, you stay.

"i don't see you around too much, like i'm always here and most of the time it's just matt and nick." you ramble. chris doesn't say anything, he just shakes his shoulders, you notice he doesn't talk too much. you huff, resting your chin in your hand. "i'm y/n, by the way." you open a bright smile.

"i know, you're that weirdo friend of my brother." he says, his facial expressions don't change anytime, you don't know if you're bothering him, if he's happy or having a good time. chris' face stays the same the whole time. he's hard to read. you don't care about him calling you a weirdo, because it's something that you heard too much in your entire life. "don't matt told you to stay away from me?" he asks.

"what? no. why would he do that?" you giggle, but chris didn't seem to find it funny. you're starting to think he's a bit annoying, but for some reason you still want to talk with him, even though he looks like he doesn't want to talk with you.

but he's so hard to read that you don't know if he's liking it or not, but before you could say anything, the door was abrupt open, hitting against your back.

"shit, 'm sorry." matt apologizes, you nod massaging your back. he steps in, noticing who's the bathroom with you. he narrows his head. "good i found you, what are you doing here with him?"

"i was looking for a quiet place, i thought about hiding in your room, but i was scared of finding people doing... stuff. so i came to the bathroom and your brother was here." you explain, gesturing too much, like you do when you're talking non stop. matt frowns his eyebrows, looking at you and after looking at chris.

"have you done anything with her?" matt asks, putting himself in front of you. chris looks angry now, actually, he looks more offended than angry. he blows the smoke out.

"i was here before, she appears and starts to speak non stop, not my fault, ok?" he defends himself, pointing to you hiding behind matt's body.

"good." he mutters, chris shakes his shoulders... again. matt huffs and grab your hand, pushing you out of the bathroom.

"oh, be careful, matt!" you complain, stepping clumsy out of the room. you just have time to raise your hand and wave to chris, he rolls his eyes and closes the bathroom door. "ouch, matt, you're hurting me."

"i'm sorry, ok? just stay away from chris, he's a troublemaker."

© chrisbesitos.

[ssahotchnerr]

Mom!friend reader bringing everyone cute lunches at the bau with personalized little notes for each person 😭 maybe hotch doesn’t even know that you do this for the others too so when someone mentions readers cooking, he’s like “wat”

personalized

ADORABLE cw; bau!fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, fluff and aaron being cute <3

the pace at which aaron was moving must've been more intense than he intended and realized; as he hurried past jj's desk, the small draft that followed caused a small piece of paper to flutter to the ground.

uttering an apology, aaron immediately reached down to pick it up. however it had landed face up, and his eyebrows furrowed in small confusion as he caught a glimpse of its contents.

your familiar handwriting kept his eyes, instead of peering away as he normally would - 'my sweet jj! thank you so much for your help on the arizona case file, you're a total lifesaver and your expertise is always appreciated, hope you know that. enjoy <3 ps - your new lavender sweater is the cutest. must plan a shopping day w/ pen soon!'

aaron's eyebrows stayed in that confused line, his eyes shifting up to jj's in a silent question.

"came with the cookies." jj answered for him, pointing her head towards the tupperware container perched on her desktop.

instantly aaron's mind made the connection - so that's why you were up late baking. that made more sense; the time you had spent baking was much too long for the small plateful quantity he had found reserved for him and jack this morning.

"pretty girl sure knows how to cook." derek added into the conversation as he approached the cluster of desks, raising his hand to pat aaron on the back but stopped himself halfway - aaron shot him a pointed look, hiding his own amusement, while jj attempted to conceal her smile with her palm.

another eyebrow furrow. "and when have you had her cooking?"

"here and there. always comes with a note too. i could just about fill a desk drawer with how many i have." derek admitted, with his signature, vivid grin. "she may be yours, we get special treatment too, y'know."

a bit later, you strolled into aaron's office, juggling numerous files in your hands.

"as requested," you started, dropping them firmly onto aaron's desk. "five action reports, minus dave's. he told me when you're as experienced and italian as he is, you can slack off and kinda get away with it. but i think that's his fancy way of admitting he's old." you joked with a eye roll.

"thank you," aaron flashed you a smile, sorting through his current papers. assuming that was all, you spun on your heel to head out and return to the everlasting joy of paperwork, but, aaron's voice stopped you.

"hey hold it, c'mere a sec."

you pulled back one of the chairs in front of hiss desk, the legs producing a scraping noise against the floorboards, but aaron gestured for you to come around. your eyes darted in the direction of his open blinds, then back at him. 'you sure?'

aaron nodded in confirmation. and if you needed any more convincing, once in reach you were pulled onto his lap, his hold on you tight.

if he wasn't being a stickler on the open affection, neither were you; you relaxed yourself against him just as you would normally, your body melting into his and throwing your arms loosely around his neck. "what's up?"

"i didn't know you wrote the team notes."

"oh," you laughed softly, with a light shake of your head. by habit your fingers ran along the skin of aaron's neck, scratching the nape of his hair gently. "yeah, if i bring in lunch or a treat or something. or both. or sometimes just because. an appreciation reminder."

aaron nodded, his fingers drumming against your hip comfortably.

"that's not a problem, is it?"

"well," aaron pretended to think, his hand changing motions and sliding up and down your side, "yes."

"actually?" you blurted as your own fingers paused. that wasn't the answer you expected, and it caused a rush of nervous heat to pool within you. until, you saw the feigned, solemn expression on his face.

aaron peered down at you, his playful eyes canceling out the forced pout on his lips. under his breath, he mumbled humorously, "i thought i was the only one getting notes."

you laughed brightly, the joy within the sound immediately bringing a smile to aaron's lips. "oh don't worry, they don't get the lipstick smooch on theirs. that's reserved for you and you only."

"i would hope not."

"or the, occasional... explicitness."

"again, i would hope not." aaron laughed again. his lips graced your temple, lingering gently as he spoke, "you're sweet."

"a very wise, very attractive person once said, 'people need to know they're important'." your lips quirked into a loving smile, a glint in your eyes. "thought this would be an easy way - i learned from the best."

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Alternate story Journey to the west 2: Demon strikes back in "Beauty and the Monkey King"

Long ago in a Distant Land, A land With mountains and barrens where no Birds nor creature was stirring except the sound of the galloping Hooves of the Mighty Kirin who wore a Golden Saddles and armor with Jewels on it.. and The Rider is None other Than Princess Saphira lorraina Fox Of Sakutopia and She is On the Journey to the west to Seek the beautiful Oracle herself. The reason why She heads to west is because It's been 5 Months since the Engagement is Called Off On Prince Daniel Jamerson Rooster after He was Caught cheating on saphira with another woman and being expose right in front of everyone including the Jade emperor himself, not only that She grieves on her dead daughter whom he Killed her beloved daughter in cold blood after she was born and made her passed away by abusing saphira when the daughter is in her womb.. Now Saphira made a Vow to Go to the Oracle to Seek out the husband whom he will be worthy for her hand in marriage.. Then at the 5 finger mountain, She hears someone calling for help.. She looked down and saw a Poor old man who's hair is not even grown on the top of his head.. She asked if he's alright and all, then he told her that he's alright. So she Comes down and asked Him who he is and then he answers that he is named "Sun wukong" known as the monkey king but saphira didn't believe him and neither is Saphira's Pet Marmoset companion Name "Mochi", She and Mochi Thought this man was crazy until when she got out of there..Mochi pointed at the lotus, She is amazed and thought she'll pick the lotus and put it on her beloved daughters urns..when she picked the lotus, it began to burn the lotus as she screams..and everything is on fire..as Mochi shrieks and chitters and began to hide in the kimono, She turns and hears the laughing as she began to ask him if he's alright but suddenly the fireball shoots up from the cave as she looked up as it landed right in front of her to reveal Himself, Lo and behold Sun wukong in the flesh as her eyes widen with shocked and in awe, Then he grabbed her by the Kimono and throws her to the air as she fell, he caught her Right on time and saphira was Suprised and before he said anything, 3 demon hunters appears and try to catch him but they were defeated by Sun wukong himself and then he told her this,

"Since you Free Me Princess, I shall make you my queen as an appreciation." But his moment is interrupted by a Monk Name "Master Tang" known as Golden Cicada.. During the battles, Saphira Saw Buddha putting his one hand down on sun wukong. She close her eyes and then Everything went black Until 2 hours later She awaken and looked around, No monkey king, No master tang, Nothing but a rock barren and shattered Mountains. She could've Swore it was just a dream or so, As the Time went by During her Journey and She began to put her white Cloak along with a celestial Fox mask Hidden her beautiful Face when She enters the Carnival and saw the Familiar face, She realized it was the Same Monk That Fought Sun wukong with his Buddha's palm.. When Master Tang Sees the mystery Fox masked woman he asked to pay to see the Shows.. She nodded and Brings out a Best Chest of Gold and silvers as well and She said, "We Meet Again Master Tang, It's been awhile since we last Encounter." Master Tang was Shocked to see the princess again and seeing Her marmoset companion looked at him and tilted her head..and Then Master Tang said that it was a pleasure to meet a princess in person and he told that it's showtime, he introduce her With Pigsy as Pigsy saw her and began to asked who she is and whats behind the mask, She sees him as a man but behind his disguise he is a Pig, Then He introduce him with Sandy The fish man.. Saphira is amazed by him with his freaky ways, then The Monk began to say "And Finally His excellency the-" Then Saphira cut off, " The Handsome Monkey king Himself, we meet at last.~" She said with a giggles..as people was angered because they thought the travelers are Fakes and all, Master tang Begged the monkey king to Perform as Saphira was right under his branch but then he Sluggishly got off from the branch and he Landed on her and his face on her Big Milky breast as she gasp and her face turns red, She takes a look to see if he's really a monkey king and saw a Golden crown on him. She is convinced that he is.. Then She said, "Oh great Sage Equal to Heaven, Please Show Us the Skills. Show everyone Who you and your brothers really are." Then He began to gets up and then did the good tricks alright but it cause alot of damages..and Then Master Tang Said with an Apoligentic face…

[visbacktatto]

viktor x assistant!reader

you were always too worried about viktor. you couldn't help it, not when he seemed so passionate about ruining himself for the sake of his research on hextech. someone had to take care of him, if not himself, you.

in the beginning it was difficult, when jayce brought you to the lab viktor gave you a studying look, sizing you up, deciding almost immediately they didn't need help, not yours, not from anyone.

but jayce had it known it was a non negotiable decision, he was getting more and more busy with the council work and viktor was surely exhausting himself with the research, he needed the help and you would be perfect for the part.

and you were, actually, slowly you proved your worth, being quite a genius on tech yourself, it wasn't hard to figure out the little instabilities with the hextech and help with the infinite calculations that came with the job.

and so, viktor started warming up to you, he started with asking for help in little things, like correcting an equation he couldn't seem to crack, checking some new invention that was malfunctioning every time he tried to start it, and every time he had to hide his surprised expression when you actually solved the problem.

so he started respecting you, and then, actually talking to you, letting you know a thing or two about him. how he liked his coffee, how organized he was with the notes on the notebook that he usually showed no one but now he's showing you, how passionate he actually was about giving people access to magic, about providing real change and comfort to the people in need and how far he was willing to go for it.

and you didn't even realize you were falling in love with him until one of those late, late nights in the laboratory, just the two of you working on some new tool together.

viktor was sleepy, clearly, you could see it in his tired eyes, but he was too stubborn to leave the work unfinished, leaned on a desk, being swallowed by the infinite papers with prototypes, he didn't even feel it when he fell asleep, his head resting on the cold surface above his notebook.

but you noticed.

it wasn't rare for him to sleep in the lab, he'd told you that before, you'd seen him early in the morning when you came to start working and he was already there. but it was the first time you saw it happening.

and he looked so beautiful, exhausted, the bags under his eyes profound, but undeniably beautiful. almost ethereal in that brief moment his body relaxed.

and you don't know why, but you reached his hair, your fingers featherlight when they brushed the brown strands, a surprisingly smooth sensation, his hair was soft.

and, yet unconsciously, he leaned into your hand, making you give into your sudden impulse and actually caress his scalp, gentle, caring.

later, when he woke up, he thought it was just a dream.

and from that day on you felt your heart beating fast almost whenever you were together. sitting side by side discussing something, his breath close to your face, his hand brushing yours when reaching for a pen, his knee touching yours under the desk when he was too focused on a new invention to move away, to keep his distant and cool demeanor, he was warmer now.

you continued doing little things for him, bringing him food when he forgot to eat and brushing it off as “i just bought too much for myself, do you want some?”, of course he knows you did it on purpose but he wouldn't point it. besides, he almost found it... endearing.

and on a particularly quiet night in the lab, the only sounds being of viktor's pen on paper and the soft hum of the machines surrounding you, you fell asleep there, for the first time.

the thing is, you were sat beside him, studying some pieces of a tool you've broken down to fix, and the moment you fell asleep your head was drooping to the side.

viktor thought it would give you a sore neck lately. of course it was the only reason he brought you closer to rest on his shoulder... it's not like he felt like he needed you close and couldn't resist seeing you so unapologetically adorable by his side... of course not.

he continued writing, but he was unfocused, the gentle weight of you resting on him occupying his thoughts. he didn't realize he was even moving before he brought you a little closer, his hand securing your waist, all in the name of making sure you were comfortable, he justified to himself.

you stirred, slowly waking up, your senses registering his scent before your eyes opened, he smelled good, like coffee, faint perfume and something indistinctly him. then you felt his hand resting on your waist, his warmth seeping through your clothes. and you could swear your face was warming up.

you opened your eyes, confirming your suspicion, you were resting on him, god you felt so embarrassed. “viktor? i'm sorry, i-” you mumbled sleepily, but he quickly brushed it off with a “no need to apologize, it's okay, you are tired”, his hand dropping from your waist out of surprise to see you awake, “maybe you should wrap it up for the day” he suggests.

you nod, slowly distancing your body from his, and he almost misses it. “maybe i should” you murmur, rubbing your eyes with your hand, trying to shake half of that sleepy haze away.

and you don't even notice that viktor is watching you. his eyes focused on your face, your cheeks looking a bit puffy, cute, even if he'd never mention it. his hand moved without his intent, holding your wrist, “you're feeling well?” he asked, sounding gentle, his accent thick, making your sleepiness almost dissipate by how fast he put your heart to race.

and he was feeling it, by holding your wrist he could feel your pulse picking up. not that he would mention.

“i'm fine i just... couldn't sleep tonight and i got a bit exhausted, i guess” you answered honestly, trying to not focus on his hold on your wrist.

he finally noticed he was holding your wrist so he dropped it. a little embarrassed himself by his actions. why was he acting like that? and before he could think it through he offered, “you can... continue, to sleep here... if it helps” what meant sleeping on him. but he didn't bring himself to say it out loud.

you looked at him a bit confused, and you were confused. what did he mean by that? sleeping in the lab? that was always uncomfortable, even if you couldn't seem to get some real sleep in your bedroom.

but before you could question further he gently pulled you closer, giving you the chance to put some distance between you again if you wanted to. he rested your head on his shoulder again, not saying anything about it, though.

you didn't know what to say either, your heart beating on your ears, loud, so loud that you could bet viktor was hearing it too.

and just when you thought you couldn't get more flustered, he searched for your wrist again, looking right at your eyes, searching for consent. that you understood the meaning. and you just nodded.

he entwined your fingers, a small, faint smile resting on his lips.

and you smiled too, and everything seemed right in the world in that stolen moment of peace.

[secondsistershelby3]

WILL THEY KNOW?

Pairing : Young!Silco x Felicia’s sister!reader

Summary : Your sister was so cheerful, confident and sometimes sarcastic, sometimes you even felt inferior but she didn't want to make you feel that way and you knew it. The biggest problem is that you had a crush on one of his friends, Silco.

Warnings : !LIGHT SPOILER S2!, smut, 18+, semi-public sex (I know I'm a whore), getting caught in the act, Vander's balcony takeover (oops), fluff

Notes : I'm a whore for Silco, it’s stronger than me

"But why do I have to come?" You asked boredly as your sister dragged you through the streets of Zaun "because I want you to come too, period" Felicia replied with a neutral look and continued to look forward

You snorted even louder since he wasn't about to let go of your wrist, it's not that you didn't like going to The Last Drop, on the contrary, Vander was very nice, he almost seemed like a father, a father figure. The problem was Silco, every time you had him next to you in your belly you started to have a thousand butterflies in your stomach, you started to burn and almost stammer and you couldn't think straight anymore.

"and Connor?! He wasn't available?" I asked, still whining like a little girl. Felicia didn't answer for almost ten seconds and then she spoke "no" she wasn't bold but almost cautious.

"ooohhhh that sucks" less than two minutes later you were at the entrance to The Last Drop

"Good evening guys" Felicia exclaimed with her arms in the air, like a theatrical entrance. You on the other hand entered with a more awkward walk and a face somewhere between angry and insecure. "Look who's here again," Vander said with a smile as he cleaned a glass. Silco, on the other hand, only turned to look at Felicia and made a single nod.

You were hiding behind her and probably neither of them had noticed you yet. Felicia looked behind her to look at you and smiled "Look who I brought" she moved and still in a theatrical way pointed at you with both arms. Vander smiled looking at you "hey little girl, long time no see" he said it in a cheerful tone, as if to replace an 'I missed you'

"yeah, but I don't really like going out" I said it in a slightly shy tone, you weren't very good at conversations, but you tried to do your best. Silco stood there looking at you with his mouth half open and his cup in his hand, until Vander gave him a light push "um...it's nice to see you again" he pronounced your name in such a suave way, pronounced by him it was as if it were gold to sell

"Come on, come and sit down" Vander invited. You headed towards the desk and took a seat next to Silco, as soon as he looked at you you smiled and he smiled back almost spontaneously.

When you turned around, you didn't see Felicia sitting next to you, you moved your gaze to look for her and saw her in front of the jukebox "what are you doing?" You asked but he didn't answer. Suddenly 'Our Love' rang out in the room.

"What is the occasion?" Vander asked. “Can't a woman want to listen to a song?” Felicia asked moving her hips a little to the rhythm Vander laughed "not this woman and not this song" in the meantime he put away the glass he was cleaning

As the song rang in your ears, you turned to watch Silco write in his notebook, his locks coming out of his ponytail, hanging in his face. You felt that feeling of butterflies, tremors creeping up your whole body. The feeling overwhelmed you so much that you didn't realize you had been watching Silco for a while.

"Do I have something on my face?" Silco asked sarcastically, looking at you with a smirk "I- no no you're fine, I mean not that you're never fine, you're always fine obviously-" Silco's giggle stopped you from babbling "I got the message, girl" you remained with your mouth half open as you watched him go back to writing with a smile on your face.

Your half-open mouth turned into a closed-mouthed smile. What interrupted your thoughts full of rainbows and hearts was Vander who placed four glasses on his balcony "mind full of love?" Vander asked laughing as he poured the drinks into shot glasses "what?! no no no, I don't!-"

"ok, calm down little sister, you'll ruin the peace of this place" Felicia said laughing putting her hand on your shoulder you huffed and slammed your red face against the balcony as you felt Felicia sit down next to you

You heard Felicia laugh out loud at your reaction. You didn't hear much of what your sister said next, you were too focused on getting yourself together.

You raised your head and hand to grab a shot glass Vander had left for you and took a sip

“I’m pregnant” you spat the drink out in front of you and started coughing, you felt a hand pat your back trying to get you to breathe properly again. You didn't even see Vander replace Felicia's drink with juice.

"this wasn't really the reaction I was expecting" Felcia laughed looking at you, your eyes were wide as you looked at her and your eyes were a little red since you almost choked a few seconds ago. Felicia took hold of her juice as you slowly stood up from the stool. Your sister was about to become a mother and you were an aunt, you were amazed at the calm with which she announced it

“wow, I’m the one who should be delirious” your sister turned to look at you still sitting "no... I'm just... well I don't know how to describe it, shocked but also happy. I just... fuck I've never seen you as a mother" you laughed for the first time today "I'll take that as a compliment" Felicia sneered.

In the meantime Silco had closed his notebook and approached the three of you with the stool

you aunt...

you aunt...

Felicia mother...

you aunt

Felicia mother

WOW.

"Are you there?” you heard Felicia call you, you hadn't even noticed that she had gotten up and was walking towards the exit "let's go" "

I...I think I'll stay a little longer to clear my head" Felicia shook her head and laughed "okay but don't be late, idiot 2 has to close" you laughed at his statement

"stay as long as you want" Vander smiled at you and started to go to the back "where are you going!?" you panicked knowing that you would have to be alone with Silco, it appealed to you on the one hand but on the other you knew that you would stutter more than anything else

“fuck…” you hissed, placing a hand on the side of your head Silco drank his drink while turning his gaze towards you

"I've seen you upset all evening, something's wrong?"

YOU, YOU

"I...I absolutely don't, I mean I don't know it's just very hot, and then for the news, but, but everything's fine seriously" you said everything so quickly, gesturing and scratching your head and the back of your neck.

"are you sure it's just that, because once I saw you alone with Felicia and you were so at ease and then I see you with me: you're nervous, you're tearing them apart and you're more nervous" Silco placed his chin on his hand while he he moved closer and closer with the stool

You tried to speak but nothing came out of your mouth "Did the cat get your tongue?" Silco laughed in the same position.

“I don't know what you're saying-" You started to turn your head but his bandaged hand grabbed your chin. “don’t mock my intelligence” you saw his face move closer to yours quickly.

Silco stopped a few millimeters from your lips "may I?" he asked You nodded uncertainly and suddenly some fireworks that only you could see went off. You felt Silco's thin, warm lips on yours. He placed his other hand on your cheek, leaning forward on the stool

You pushed Silco back slightly, as good as it felt, "what if Vander comes back or what if Felicia comes back?" “We'll make it quick, they won't know” he put his hand that was on your chin, on the back of your neck to bring you closer and placed his warm lips on yours again.

You were always uncertain, you were never able to make decisions, but it was the time to do it, right? This time you didn't hold back, you tried to deepen the kiss, even if you weren't expert but it came almost naturally to you

Silco put his hands on your hips and jerked you up "what...what are you doing?" You asked between kisses. His hand moved behind your back while the other remained on your hip and he suddenly pushed your back against the desk. "this" he smiled. The hand that was on your hip quickly moved under your shirt.

Your hands had moved seconds before to his shoulders but one moved more securely to his pigtail, ready to untie him "can...can I untie them?" Silco moved his face away from yours slightly and looked into your eyes “of course you can” his voice had become huskier than usual. With his approval, you let down his black hair, it was definitely lovely.

The hand that was under your shirt moved to your bra covered breast. Your hands rushed to grip his hair. You had never been touched by a man, you had always had a crush on Silco, so this was more than exciting

You both stopped in your tracks when you heard noises coming from the back. "fuck...it's better if-" "We'll make it quick, I promise" Silco interrupted you

His hands quickly went to your pants and you copied his movements by unzipping his, all while the two of you resumed kissing. Silco's hands quickly pulled down his trousers, just to be able to perform the act. “it will hurt, as much as I want to avoid it I can't, stop me immediately if I hurt you” you nodded slowly as he lowered his open pants.

Before long the cock was inside you, you suddenly hugged yourself to him as you moaned "shit!"

You didn't see Silco smile at your reaction. After seconds you got used to that feeling of filling, Silco's hips began to move slowly until they picked up speed, each thrust slammed against the balcony making noise and with each thrust there was either a moan from you or a grunt from him.

“fuck, fuck…” Silco hissed as he placed a hand on the balcony behind you.

You were almost about to come but something or rather someone stopped you

"Christ! You guys get a fucking room!"

You snapped your head up and turned to see Vander with his hands on his hips and turning his head. Your face turned red as a tomato and you pushed Silco away and immediately pulled up your pants. He on the other hand was so calm as he pulled up his pants and laughed at your reaction

"I had just cleaned it" he huffed putting the rag on his shoulder

You rushed to the exit without saying anything.

“Are you leaving without saying goodbye?” Silco's voice called you with your hands at your sides you turned towards him uncertainly, you took hesitant steps towards him who had his hands crossed and his hair still loose and disheveled. You waited a few seconds and in a thousandth of a second you gave him a kiss on the cheek and quickly left the bar.

"congratulations idiot 1"

"thanks idiot 2" Silco was still looking with loving eyes at the exit you had passed through a few seconds before

[spencewalterreid]

what if…don’t hear me out on this, i’m sleep deprived and projecting…reader is something of a favorite student of spencer’s whom he confronts about the, erm, suspiciously increasing bandages he’d been noticing on their leg or smt? he’d probably frantically point out the abundance of arteries there at some point 😭 please ignore this so hard if you don’t feel like it lmao

In The Morning, I'll Make Cereal

Summary: When Spencer notices you've been in a daze, he checks on you and finds bandages on your arm.

Pairing: Professor Reid / Reader (p)

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Suicidality, self harm, scars, surviving an attempt

Word Count: 2,262

Author's Note: I loved this prompt. I hope you appreciate my interpretation of it:) it wasn't very specific but I did what I could!

It had been a long fucking week. Finally, at long last, it's your last class on Friday, But Professor Reid has been rambling for the last two hours. This class is only supposed to be an hour and forty-five minutes, but good God, this man can drone. Generally, you wouldn't mind it. On a better day, you would relish in his tangents, on and on about victimology and how parents not kissing their children enough makes them kill people or whatever, you're just not into it today.

Squinting, you scratch a few more lines of graphite into the head of the portrait you're drawing in the margin of your notebook, trying to shape the hair properly. It's giving you fits. You knock your knee against the side of your desk absentmindedly to the rhythm of the music in your wired headphones.

Spencer pauses mid-sentence, his brow furrowing as he sees you. There’s at least a hundred kids in this room, so he hadn’t noticed it before now. His amber eyes scan the classroom as they always do, but keep returning to you; head in your notebook and your bouncing knee. He sighs softly, rubbing his temple before continuing his lecture.

"…and as we've discussed, the lack of proper familial affection in the formative years can lead to a host of psychological issues that may manifest in aggressive or criminal behavior later in life. Take, for instance, the case study of Ted Bundy, who…"

Spencer's voice drones on, the words blurring together as you tune out, focused on the intricate details of the portrait taking shape beneath your pencil. You lean forward slightly, squinting as you shade a particularly difficult shadow, your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth in concentration.

"That's all. Thank you for your patience, I know today ran long. I'll see you all on Monday," Reid says, his gaze lingering on you. You’re always so attentive, hanging on every word. What the hell? He waits a moment at his desk, looking over the notes the students had dropped in the tray before leaving, but keeps glancing up. A few minutes pass and you’re still scribbling away, making no move to pack up. His face pinches in worry.

“Hey, class is over now. We just ran a bit over today," he says, projecting his voice to reach you.

Spencer stands up, straightening his suit jacket as he walks over to where you sit when you don’t reply, still scribbling away. He glances down at the notebook, his eyebrows raising as he recognizes the portrait beginning to take shape.

"I didn't realize you had such skill," Spencer comments, unable to hide the note of surprise in his voice. He leans down a bit closer to get a better look.

You don't reply at all until he leans down and you finally notice his presence. Your pencil scrapes across the portrait when you damn-near jump out of your skin. "Jesus!" you gasp, then place your hand over your heart. "You scared me." The corner of your lip twitches up into a smile, and caught up in your embarrassment that he saw the portrait of him, you didn't even realize that your long-sleeve shirt rode down a bit, revealing a bandage wrapped firmly around your forearm.

Spencer takes a step back, looking mildly alarmed at having startled you so severely. "I apologize, that was not my intent. I didn't mean to frighten you." His gaze drifts down to your wrist, his eyes widening briefly as he notices the bandage. "Are you… are you alright? That looks bad," Spencer asks, taking a knee and reaching for your hand to take it in his to assess the damage before you subtly pull it away.

Your heart falls through the bottom of your ribs, clashes against your intestines, and tumbles straight out your ass. "Uhm." Words. Form them. Hang on, do I even know any? Shit. You force a wry chuckle, dropping your hands to your lap and wringing them together, knocking your sleeves down enough to cover your wrists again. "I just." Ahem. "I just dropped a knife last night when I was making dinner. No biggie." Please, Please believe me. You thank any God that might be out there for having everyone else clear out before he approached you.

“Okay,” he agrees with a nod, letting you believe that he buys it. “Uh, you should be more careful, though,” he continues hesitantly. He reaches for your arm again and you let him. He pushes up your sleeve, and you swallow an argument. “Right here,” he says, dragging a finger gently along your forearm, the inner part of the left side, along the outer part of the bone. “This is the ulnar artery. You’ve got a lot of smaller veins in your arm, too, that could be dangerous if nicked, but that could have been really bad.” You don’t tell him how close his finger was to the gash made only hours ago.

Spencer wanted to pretend not to notice all the smaller scars dotted along the base of your wrist, and a couple on your hands that you could more believably wave off as accidents. He rests his elbow on your lower thigh, above your knee and a bit inward, making you wince. Again, he doesn’t say anything. Not yet.

“This,” he draws another line, this time down the side of your arm, “is the anterior condylar vein, or ACV. Easier to hit because it’s more shallow.” Spencer sighs, dragging a thumb across one of the smaller, now raised and white nicks. “I didn’t want to say anything, but-”

“I know,” you interject. “You have to report this. I get it.” The beginnings of tears nudge at the back of your throat, agitating a lump into it, and threaten to fill your eyes. “It’s okay,” you add, yanking your cheeks up into a suggestion of a smile.

The professor huffs again, revoking his touch and shifting from a one-legged kneel to a squat, resting his elbows on his own knees and looking up at you. “I’m not going to report you. I don’t think-” He runs a hand through his dark curls and puts it back on his leg. “That has only exacerbated the issue, in my experience. I need you to know… to know that I care.”

You shift uncomfortably, staring at your fingernails as you drag dirt out from under them. “Okay,” you mumble. To say you believed him in the slightest would be a falsity of the highest order.

“I do,” Reid insists as though he read your mind, craning his neck down and chin up to catch your eyes under the curtain of your hair. “I do care. I know you’ve been going through something, and I’m sorry, but I’m here.”

Spencer reaches out to gently tilt your chin up with his fingers, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that managed to escape. The empathy in his eyes makes your stomach churn. He’s just so genuine.

"Listen to me. I know you're hurting. I know you feel alone. But you're not alone right now, do you understand that? You have me, and I promise I will help you through this, any way I can. My offer to talk stands, anytime, anywhere. My door is always open to you."

“I heard you.”

“No, I know you heard me. I asked if you understood me. There’s a difference.”

Your lip wobbles against your will and you know you’re about to cry. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head away from him, a last ditch effort to hide your face. “I can’t-”

He leans in, pulling you into him, his voice lowering to a low, soothing murmur. "Please, don't let anyone else see these scars. Not until you're ready. I need you to take care of you. You're stronger than this. You have so much potential, so much to offer the world. Don't throw that away. Not now, not ever.”

Sobs wrack your body, and as the breaths leave your lungs in short, desperate hiccups, his embrace is an anchoring force. “You’re okay,” he whispers. “You’re okay. This isn’t your fault.” One of Spencer’s hands card through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. “I’m here, alright?” He doesn’t expect you to answer.

“I almost killed myself last night,” you sob, pulling away with great reluctance.

Okay, he really wasn’t expecting that. The look in his eyes, despite his trepidation, encourages you to elaborate. He only now notices how pale you are, and the dots connect.

“I–” You take a deep breath, centering yourself before you continue. “I had a spiral. I called- called everyone. My mom, my best friend, even the fucking hotline. And you know what? It was busy,” you laugh incredulously. “The suicide hotline was busy!”

He doesn’t get a word in, you’re too busy in a tear-fueled tangent. “And I- I cleaned my room. Spotless. I made my bed, and put on a good outfit, and I wrote a letter, and I, uh-” you smile, and it’s sad, a macabre thing. “I knew about the arteries.” Your spine straightens. “Anyway. I ended up sleeping in, so I guess that’s good, but when I woke up… it felt… it felt so dull.”

“What do you mean?”

“It felt small. My arms had scabbed over, miraculously, and I got up. I wrapped them, and I brushed my teeth, and I made cereal. I got in the car and drove 120 on the highway to get here, and I didn’t crash. I jaywalked across a busy street and nothing happened, and I just-” a shaky breath flowed over your lips and you slumped down in your seat. “I failed, and the world kept turning. I could have died last night, should have, and… nothing changed. Nothing at all.”

Spencer listens intently, his face twisted in something that looks an awful lot like heartbreak. When you finish speaking, he takes a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully.

"I'm so sorry you felt you reached that point, but I'm nothing short of relieved at your survival. You did the right thing by reaching out, even if the support you needed wasn't immediately available. That takes courage and strength."

He places his hand on your shoulder, warmth seeping through your jacket, and squeezes. "Feeling small and insignificant after a crisis like that is completely normal. It's a common reaction, but it's a lie. Your life has value. Your existence matters, and the world changing or not is not a reflection of your worth."

Spencer studies you like at any moment, you could fade into smoke. "You didn't fail last night. You survived. That's not a small thing, it’s significant. It means you have the strength to keep going, to keep fighting. And I will be here to support you in that fight, in whatever way you need. It means,” he pauses to gently jab a finger at your chest, above your heart. “It means that this doesn’t care about your feelings, and I apologize if that sounds harsh. When you… When you did that, your baroreceptors activated, which monitors your blood vessels, and caused your heart to start taking blood away from your limbs to keep it in your core, keep you warm. That caused vasodilation and a decrease in heart rate, which lowered your blood pressure back to a survivable rate.”

“What’s your point, Professor?” you ask, rolling your eyes in frustration.

“My point,” he continues firmly, “Is that your body is stronger than your mind sometimes. It fought to keep you alive, even when you felt you wanted to let go. That's a testament to your innate will to live, to survive. It's not a reflection of your feelings or wishes, but it's a part of you that can't be ignored."

Spencer takes your hand, covering it with both of his. "Please don't dismiss your survival as insignificant. It matters, and I believe it's a sign that you have the strength to keep going, to keep living. I know it's hard, and I know grief and pain can feel all-consuming at times, but you have so much life ahead of you. Your mind and your body are connected, but they are also their own beings in a way. Your body has carried you your whole life. Your blood cells have fought sickness, your muscles have soothed their own aches, and your bones have held you up. Your body isn’t attacking you, but you’re attacking it. How is that fair?”

You’re not sure what to say to that.

Spencer looks at you intently, pressing your hand in his tightly to ground you. "I know this is difficult to process. I know you're hurting. But I need you to understand that your body and your mind are not your enemies. They are part of you, and they need your care and compassion. I’m not going to make you promise me you’ll seek help, or that you’ll stop. I know it isn’t that simple. But I will ask this,” he says, and your heart contracts. “Be kind to yourself. Have compassion. Try to put things in perspective. You deserve so much better than this.”

“Can you feel that?” he asks, tilting his head to your hand.

You consider it, and you notice the steady throbbing from his unforgiving grip. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” he whispers, and the sweet look in those beautiful brown eyes almost makes you believe it. “You’re gonna save your life, and I’m gonna cheer you on.”

[keepswingin]

open heart

Zayne is pushing his way through the masses as soon as he realizes it's you, hand wrapping around the bloody mess of your own.

Your gaze blearily sweeps across the swarm of white coats and scrubs before it lands on his face, lips pulled firm, eyes flicking rapidly across your body, trying to catalogue every single injury from sight alone.

You would laugh, if only you didn't hurt so much.

"Doctor Zayne," you whisper, forcing the words from your chest. It's meant to soften the crinkle between his eyes, the worry he's trying to hide, the iron grip he has on your hand. "I - I did it."

There's a pause as people move around you, so many different faces, voices, sounds. They push you through a set of doors you've never been behind before, and the hospital bed rattles with the force of it, though there are sets of hands keeping you steady, Zayne's steely gaze locked with yours.

"I finally found what - what I was looking for."

You think someone pokes a needle into your left arm, while another reaches over you for something that looks oddly like a mask, see-through and plastic. You only realize it's an oxygen mask when they pass it over to Zayne who takes it from them without looking away from you.

He doesn't let go of your hand, blood smearing against his pale skin.

"Of course you did," Zayne says in return, but his voice wobbles and nearly cracks. Another set of doors, a different set of lights that nearly blind you until he moves to block them, leaning over you. His fingers are featherlight as they brush across your face, gentle as they ease the oxygen mask into place against your skin.

Your chest feels lighter after a few shaky inhales. Zayne smiles when he sees the mask fog up, but it disappears just as quickly. He squeezes your hand hard enough to hurt. "Deep breaths for me, that's it." A pause. More doctors moving around, someone's hand falling on Zayne's shoulder. "You're going to be okay."

He turns to face the older man and for a long moment, you worry that he's going to cause a scene for your sake. You know from all ethical points that he can't be the one to operate on you, even in your pained state, but it doesn't mean that you want him to leave you. Not when so much hurts, not when you're sure you're bleeding more blood than you even have, not when his face is pinched like there's something seriously wrong.

The room is starting to clear out. A kind nurse runs her hand up your arm and squeezes the hand not held by Zayne, offering comfort. The older man gives a short nod to Zayne and moves back, pulling his mask over his chin.

You breathe out. Zayne is closer, hovering over you. When you meet his eyes they're searching yours for something, and you're not sure if the pain is making your vision blurry or if it's his eyes that hold a sheen to them they didn't have before. He leans down and leaves a kiss in your hair, lingering for a long moment before pulling away.

You want to say something, anything. Maybe this is your last chance and you're going to leave without saying anything, all because of a stupid oxygen mask. All because you couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

A tear slips from your eye and something within you thrashes with panic suddenly, your heart rate increasing. You don't remember anyone hooking you up to a heart monitor but apparently they did, and the machine reacts just as wildly, beeping erratically.

Zayne glances over at it before returning his gaze to you. For some reason, you think he understands exactly what you aren't able to say.

"I know," he says, voice steady. "I love you too."

The monitor calms, but your body is still struggling, unable to figure itself out. A different nurse tugs Zayne away from you, another doctor speaking to him in hushed tones. Probably about the facts of it all, of you surviving, of your body not giving up on you quite yet. Zayne likes facts, enjoys the stability of them, the truth of it all. His fellow doctors are offering the best kind of comfort they know, but Zayne simply looks at you and holds onto your hand.

Only when there's enough distance between you does he finally let go, the kind nurse beside you lowering your hand gently to your side before it falls and giving it a reassuring pat.

You hear the doors push open and then close. Faces filter in and out of your vision before it all finally fades away.

(part ii | part iii)

[luludeluluramblings]

dream team duo rambling again (our bad 4 tha spam but we luvvvvv ur stuff!!)

gyaru or influencer reader or even normal reader who intentionally has a specific way of speaking (valley girl, southern accent, Cajun accent, etc.) and then completely drops it to go off the grid??? that just seems so cool

Neglected!Influencer!Reader x Yandere!Batfam

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, buckle up! Cause y'all are adding the spin to my spiraling and I'm living for it!

A/N: Adding this to the concept list because I got carried away with this and will probably want to add to it at some point. Calling this Influencer!Reader.

Warnings: GN!Reader, subtle yandere themes

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Neglected!Reader that starts filming Youtube videos or streaming in their room in the manor to cope with the loneliness. Only, rather than putting on a persona or costume, they just act like their genuine self.

They wear a certain style that they love and feel their best in. They have a distinct accent that they don't bother to hide when filming. They talk as loud or as soft as they want. They ramble and rave about their favorite things. And, people adore them for it.

Including the Bat Family.

But, no one makes the connection.

Outside of streaming, they were typical ordinary clothes that they don't feel like themselves in and try to hide their accent to sound more normal. All in the hopes of fitting in with the family and the Gotham.

The irony of trying so hard to make people like you only for you to fail to realize they already like you. Just not when you hide who you are.

Being blown off by members of the family, only because you have a video scheduled to post and for them to literally cut out time from their day just to watch it and be the first to comment.

Watching the usernames send you donations for your running away fund, only for them to be from the very people you want to run from.

It's not like the Bats realize who you are. They never spend time with you. They never notice you when you try to fit in with them. They've never even been in your room before. How could they know that their favorite person was literally right down the hall.

It isn't until you take a hiatus, telling your followers your finally moving and getting out of your hell hole that the pieces click.

Lets say, Tim gets itchy. (Going back to the idea of him using your videos to fall asleep.) He wants your voice back to soothe him. He needs his fix. And, lets face it, the others would only encourage it when they find out he's trying to track you down.

Imagine their horror when the puzzle comes together. That your their sibling. The one they've ignored. You live in the manor with them. But, wait. You said in your last video your moving? Wait! NO!

The rush down the hall to your empty room. Realizing they had seen the inside of it so many times, but had never actually been in it. Finding some of your old things left behind that had been in previous videos that you didn't bother to take. (They fight over them. They're sacred now.)

The had you. They had you right there in arms reach and they didn't hold you.

And, then you finally post another video. Thanking your fans for loving you when they couldn't. (But, their your fans too.)

They're gonna get you back though. Their you're biggest fans after all.

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | M. Verstappen

Summary: A normal Tuesday becomes stressful when you lose your daughter in the grocery store, but then you find her with her favourite driver.

Warnings: none just fluff + max being the cutest with children.

Pairing: max x singlemother!reader (platonic ish?)

wc: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

You were strolling through the aisles in the grocery store. One hand pulling the smaller basket behind you while your other hand was held by your daughter, Isabella.

It was a normal Tuesday for your little family of two, shopping with your six year old daughter. Unable to say no whenever she picks up something and looks at you with the cutest pout.

During the ten minutes of shopping, it has happened twice so far. The first time it was a box of two-bite brownies that she was currently obsessed with, and the second time was chocolate chip cookies.

You continued walking through the aisle, sneaking a glance at Isabella every time she pointed at something and said "mama, look"

Everything was going smoothly, until you had to drop Isabella's hand to open the door to the refrigerator to grab yogurt for your little one.

"Bella, which one do you want?" You picked out two flavours that she liked, wanting to let her choose one but as you looked to your side, she wasn't there.

"Isabella?" You did a full 360 turn, in case she was attempting to hide behind you as she tried once before, but she wasn't there. That's when the panic started setting in.

Dragging your basket behind, you walked towards the nearby aisles hoping to find her. "Shit, shit, shit," you muttered under your breath because you couldn't find your little girl anywhere.

You truly felt like the shittiest parent in the world. Losing your child in the grocery store was something you never thought would happen to you, especially as Isabella was always right by your side. Today, you were proven otherwise.

Close to breaking out into a full sprint, you continued looking for her, becoming less and less aware of the people around you. You accidentally bumped into a few people, but you couldn't be bothered to look at them, only muttering an apology as you passed.

You almost skipped your gaze over her, but did a double take when you spotted her familiar glittery clips in brown hair that was the same shade as yours.

"Isabella!" You almost yelled, but thankfully the aisle she was in was nearly empty. Only one other person was present, crouched close to Isabella, who was speaking animatedly with grand hand gestures.

You immediately crouched down next to her, calling her name again and hugging her tightly.

"Mama, look!" Isabella spoke when you pulled away, not understanding the depth of the situation as she pointed to the man she was speaking to.

That's when you looked at him, wondering why Isabella was speaking to him, especially as she wasn't too outgoing. Sure she'd sometimes speak to strangers, but she wasn't the type to run away from you to do so.

You stood up, holding your daughter up on your hip and watched as the man also stood up. "Isabella, angel, what happened?" You were confused as to why she was so excited.

"It's Max! The race car one," Isabella spoke excitedly, and that's when it clicked for you. Due to her father's interest in the sport, it passed on to Isabella and she would ramble on and on about it whenever she'd return from her dad's house.

"Oh," you turned to look at Max, a sheepish smile making its way to your face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice her leave my side." Frankly, you weren't sure if you were supposed to apologize but you knew that he was quite famous and possibly didn't want to be bothered.

He shook his head, “no worries, I should apologize for causing this,” he gestured to your daughter’s huge smile, excitedly moving around in your grasp.

He introduced himself to you, only realizing after that Isabella had already told you his name. You chuckled and told him your name, hearing him say it back to you.

“Mama, I told him that daddy and I watch him race,” Isabella told you, and you indulged in the conversation, knowing how much she loved watching Max on tv.

“Did you tell him how you’re a biiig fan?” You watched her nod eagerly, holding her hands far apart and telling Max, “this big!”

He chuckled, not seeming to mind the little girl interrupting his shopping trip. In fact, he was quite surprised when she first approached him, all shy then the outburst came out of nowhere once she confirmed it was Max, the racing driver.

The main reason why Isabella spotted him so easily was because he was in something similar to the blue and red clothes that she sees him wearing on tv, wearing a cap as well.

“And what about you, not a fan?” Max asked you, taking you by surprise as he initiated another conversation. You shrugged, “I don’t really watch but Isabella does when she’s at her dad’s.”

It was a common interest that the father-daughter duo shared, possibly the only one so you didn’t want to take that away from them.

Max nodded, understanding your specific choice of words saying “her dad’s” rather than “my husband” or something similar.

Just for that, knowing that you were a single mother, his appreciation for you doubled. Mainly because he judged you unknowingly when he spoke to Isabella and noticed the lack of any responsible adult around, not knowing that the little girl ran away from her mother.

“Daddy promised to take me to the track one day,” Isabella’s voice snapped him out of his little bubble, one in which he was only looking at you. He had to remind himself that you were only here because your daughter was a fan, not for any other reason.

You sighed internally, not really wanting to tell Max, your daughter’s favourite driver, that your ex had promised Isabella well over a year ago. It was a promise left unfulfilled for a while, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may never be fulfilled.

However, even without words, Max seemed to notice your expression as you didn’t hide it well enough. He was quick to make a decision, and crouched a little lower to be face to face with your daughter. “How about you and your mama come see me at the next race?”

Isabella instantly looked at you with the same pout that always worked on you, but this time you really had to think about it. Your gaze turned to Max, “oh please don’t do what I think you are suggesting.”

Max’s smile only grew, “I am suggesting that I can send you two paddock passes for the next race.”

Your daughter happily bounced in your grasp and she was wiggling around too much for you to hold her still. Placing her down and holding her hand, you thought about Max’s suggestion.

“Do you want to go, angel?” You asked Isabella, already knowing that she would say yes. “Please mama, can we go? please, please, please.”

You chuckled at her excitement, nodding at her and looked at Max, “looks like the decision is made.”

“Good, I will be looking forward to seeing you both,” Max stated, but remembering an important detail, you blushed in embarrassment. “One question,” you started, watching him nod to let you continue, “when is the race?”

“Next weekend. How about I send you tickets for Saturday and Sunday, would that be okay?”

To think he was a famous athlete, you couldn’t believe his kindness. Sure, not all athletes were rude, and you didn’t have any previous experience but it was still surprising.

“Yes, that should be okay. Thank you so much for doing this.” He just shrugged, “it’s not a problem at all.”

Your daughter was getting restless now, already in the grocery store for a while now plus this conversation was going on longer than she thought.

Isabella managed to release her hand from your grasp, but you instantly noticed. A sheepish smile grew on her face and Max could notice the familiarities between mother-daughter. “Stay right here, Bella,” you tried a stern voice, something you weren’t used to, so she knew you were serious.

“Okay mama,” she nodded and walked to the basket you abandoned once you first spotted Isabella.

Max said your name, bringing your attention back to him. “She’s cute, how old is she?” He asked, watching Isabella play with the items in the basket.

“She’s the cutest six year old.” You two watched her with interest, but while your gaze was still on your daughter, Max’s gaze shifted to you.

“Oh, I was meaning to ask, I need your contact information for the passes,” he scratched the back of his neck while a small smile made its way on your face.

“Are you asking me for my number?” You teased him, unsure where the playfulness in the conversation came from but neither of you were opposed to it.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he pulled out his phone, unlocking it and giving it to you. Once you handed it back to him, he chuckled when he saw the contact name you saved yourself as. Isabella’s mama

“So I guess I’ll see you soon?” You asked, having spent more than enough time in a grocery store but somehow not wanting to say goodbye yet. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details in a bit. Maybe I might just turn you into a fan?”

“We’ll see, Max, but no promises.” You chuckled, calling Isabella so she could say goodbye to Max.

She surprised you both by clinging onto his legs, and he quickly crouched down to give her a proper hug. “Bye Maxy.”

“Bye Isabella, I’ll see you soon!”

As you grabbed her hand and began walking away, Isabella turned around to wave at Max once again, making him chuckle but easily retuning the wave.

He stood there until you and your daughter were both out of sight. Then, he groaned once he realized that he still had a few more items to grab from his list before he could leave.