#and i leaned over and saw the message on her phone

[crushpunky]

rafe stands up for kook!reader

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

based on this ask, but the context is a bit different. warning for creepy dude + language

Y/n’s phone had been buzzing all day and it was about to drive Rafe up a wall. The two of them had planned on spending the day inside, watching a movie curled up on the couch in Taneyhill with snacks, but he was having a hard time relaxing with the incessant ringing of y/n’s phone. His arm was flung on the back of the couch, his fingers mindlessly toying with y/n’s hair, but flinching with anger each time their peaceful bubble was interrupted.

“I’m about to chuck your phone across the room.” Rafe said, his eyes wide as he looked down at y/n. Y/n groaned, rolling her eyes as she sat up to check her phone once again. She scrolled through the chain of texts, each one more bothersome than the last. Regardless of how many times she blocked him or told him to leave her alone, she couldn’t get rid of him… Luke.

The two of them had gone on a date a few weeks ago at a burger joint downtown. The date itself had been fine, the two of them getting along well enough, but took a turn when it was time for her to leave. She’d driven herself and Luke had been kind enough to walk her out to her car. With a smile, he’d leaned in for a kiss on the lips, but she’d quickly turned her cheek, his lips landing square on her cheek. He tried again, y/n swerving nervously out of the way and sending him a quick goodbye before rushing to get into her car. Luckily, that’d been the end of the situation… or so she’d thought. Ever since that night, he’d been texting, calling, and messaging her nonstop, simultaneously calling her a ‘prude’ and a ‘slut’, begging for another date then telling her how nobody would ever want to date her.

“What is it?” Rafe asked, trying to peer over y/n’s shoulder once he noticed her anxious expression. She quickly yanked her phone away from him before shoving it back into her pocket. Rafe scowled, eyeing her suspiciously before turning back to the movie. It was barely a second before y/n’s phone went off again.

“Ok, that’s it.” Rafe shouted, grabbing for y/n’s phone. He beat her, but only slightly, her hand clamping over his as he dug in her pocket for her phone.

“It’s nothing, leave it!” Y/n groaned, her fingers trying to pry her phone out of Rafe’s hands but failing. He took it, using his other hand to keep her flailing arms and squealing away as he looked into what was causing all the fuss.

“Rafe, seriously! Stop—” y/n fought, trying to grab the phone from him, which only resulted in him pulling it further from her.

“W– What the fuck is this?” Rafe said lowly, his hands practically trembling with anger as he continued to scroll through the essentially endless string of texts, Snapchats, Instagram and Tik Tok messages, voicemails, fucking emails…

“It’s just this guy, it’s fine—” Y/n sighed, sinking back into the couch next to Rafe in defeat.

“The asshole from, like, last month?” Rafe scoffed, his jaw clenched at the memory. She’d told him about the awkward ending to the date, and how the guy was maybe a little weird, but she had decidedly neglected to tell him about anything since…

“I— He—” Y/n groaned, trying one last time to take the phone from Rafe. “Yes.”

“Why the fuck did you not tell me?” Rafe spat, his eyes filled with anger and mouth agape as he looked at y/n. She took in a shaking breath, fiddling with her hands as she tried to avoid Rafe’s intense gaze.

“Because it wasn’t a big deal—” y/n said.

“Not a big deal?” Rafe said, his voice rising. “Not a big deal? This guys fuckin’ crazy! You saw the shit he was saying!”

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you because I knew you were going to freak the fuck out—” y/n snapped.

“Yeah I’m freaking out!” Rafe stood, his grip still tight on her phone. “You’ve had some psycho fuckin’ stalking you, saying insane shit, and you didn’t tell me!”

“I can take care of myself, Rafe! I don’t need you taking care of me!” Y/n shouted, her tone adamant.

“Well too fuckin’ bad because I have to take care of you!” Rafe snapped, his chest heaving with anger. “I have to because I fuckin’ care about you.”

Y/n bottom lip trembled, an overwhelming mix of anger and fear and worry coursing through her as she looked up at Rafe. The stress of the harassment had been weighing on her, gnawing at her insides no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Rafe had noticed, of course he had, and now she was terrified of what would happen next… despite this, however, she couldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel good to finally let it off her chest. To finally let someone else in on all the turmoil that had been plaguing her since the fateful night she agreed to go on that date.

“Rafe—” y/n whispered, but was quickly interrupted when her phone began to ring. Their gazes locked for a moment, both of their eyes wide before both shifting to look at her ringing phone. Rafe quickly swiped a finger of his tense hand, answering the phone on speaker.

“Finally you’ve gotten some sense knocked into you—” Luke’s voice rang through the phone, causing a chill to run down y/n’s spine and anger to course through Rafe’s.

“Hey, motherfucker.” Rafe growled into the speaker.

“Uh, h– hello? Who is this?” Luke stammered. Y/n felt her heart hammering in her chest as she watched Rafe practically trembling with fury.

“Who the fuck do you think it is, asshole?” Rafe snapped. The two of them could hear the staticed silence and uncomfortable shifting on Luke’s end as it echoed through the room.

“Um… hello Rafe.” Luke said, his voice barely a whisper. Rafe chuckled, running a ringed hand down his face.

“Oh, so you do know who I am.” Rafe said, a cheeky grin on his lips. Y/n gnawed at her lip, her breathing shallow as she watched the tense situation unfolding in front of her.

“Yes I—” Luke stuttered, the air of confidence and authority he seemed to have in his previous incessant messages vanished

“So you do know what the fuck I’ll do to you if you ever try and talk to her or even look at her again?” Rafe said firmly, his grip on her phone nearly crushing.

“I wasn’t— I was just—” Luke scrambled.

“I don’t give a fuck what you ‘was’ or ‘wasn’t’ trying to do, a’ight asshole?” Rafe snapped, his free hand pointing sharply to the phone in front of him. “If you talk to her, if you look at her, if you try anything…”

Rafe trailed off, shaking his head as he looked over at y/n. As much as she tried to hide it, the toll the harassment was having on her was apparent and he cursed himself for not noticing sooner. Seeing her like this, riddled with fear at the mere sound of the creep's voice sent a new wave of anger through him as he turned back to the phone.

“... I’ll fucking kill you.” Rafe said, his voice barely more than a whisper. The room hung in a sort of stunned silence, not even the static of the speaker phone registering in y/n’s ears as Rafe’s threat— no, promise— echoed in her mind.

“Do you understand me?” Rafe growled.

“Yes.” Luke muttered. A wicked grin spread across Rafe’s lips as he nodded with satisfaction. Y/n felt a weight lift off her shoulders, her heart finally beginning to settle at the guarantee that the terror that had been following her for the past month was finally over.

“Alright, that’s good.” Rafe chuckled. “Just, just one more small thing before you go, buddy.”

“Ok.” Luke whispered. At his response, Rafe took a step towards y/n, resting his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her into his side.

“I want you to apologize.” Rafe shrugged, lowering the phone to rest in front of y/n.

“T– to who?” Luke stammered. Rafe curled his lip, moving to raise the phone back to his lips but was stopped by y/n’s firm grip on his arm.

“Who the fuck do you think?” Y/n said sternly. Rafe found himself smirking as he peered down at her proudly.

“Y/n, I, um, I didn’t know you were there…” Luke scrambled.

“Do you have something to say to me?” Y/n said, propping her hands onto her waist with an exaggerated sigh.

“I’m… I’m sorry for… for, uh—” Luke muttered.

“For harassing me? For stalking me? For not taking no for an answer? For being a fucking creepy asshole?” Y/n snapped, her brow furrowed in aggravation.

“Y– yes.” Luke sighed. “I… I’m sorry.”

“And it won’t happen again, right Luke?” Rafe added, raising his brows as he awaited Luke’s response.

“No. It won’t.” Luke whispered.

“Good. I think that settles things then, right, girl?” Rafe said, looking down at y/n. A relieved smile spread across her lips as she looked back at him, his arm moving to wrap around her waist lightly.

“Yeah.” Y/n grinned, Rafe mirroring her satisfaction as he turned his attention back to her phone in his hand.

“Alright, bye asshole. Don’t think about trying to reach out… or you know what will happen.” Rafe said before hanging up y/n’s phone. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, relaxing into Rafe’s hold as he sat her phone down on the couch. His other arm wrapped around her, pulling her into him for a hug.

“Thank you.” Y/n said into Rafe’s chest, the vibration causing Rafe’s smile to only widen.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, a’ight? I can’t.” Rafe said, squeezing y/n lightly before the two of them finally stepped apart.

“Thank you.” Y/n repeated, causing Rafe to roll his eyes, his arm resting on her waist.

“Enough… it’s basically my job to make sure you’re ok.” Rafe grumbled, causing y/n to elbow him in his ribs playfully.

“More like your life’s purpose.” Y/n teased. Rafe chuckled, a smirk dancing across his lips.

“Exactly.” Rafe smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the top of y/n’s head. “Exactly.”

[scoutofmymind]

Saw that someone said Luigi’s Reddit had a post where he eluded to a pretty heavy drinking habit in college, which then makes me think about drunk ex!luigi. I’m sorry, but you write angst too well

Unlearn Me — { Luigi x Reader}

Content: SFW, angst, yearning, slight pining, mentions of canon back pain, ex’s reminiscing, heartbreak all over again.

W.c: 4,336 (holy shit)

Notes; Two semesters of carefully crafted distance crumbles at 3AM in the computer lab when your final project implodes hours before the deadline, leaving you with no choice but to seek help from the one person you've been avoiding since the breakup.

Before we continue, I cannot ignore that wildfires continue to ravage Los Angeles, countless families have lost their homes and livelihoods. I urge you to consider supporting those affected through any of these donation links, additionally, Roadogs on Instagram is looking for fosters for mass evacuations of shelter dogs in California.

Foster or donate if you can. xo.

Now, let’s go.

"Mother fucker," you curse, attacking your keyboard with increasingly desperate keystrokes.

Each combination might be the one to salvage this disaster, but deep down you know it's hopeless — your software has corrupted itself into oblivion, taking six months of work with it.

"You can ask for an extension," Emma suggests, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion that matches your own. Your roommate had burst into the media center still wearing her pink silk pajamas, immediately launching into a nervous tirade about after-hours permissions and potential expulsion risks.

Her constant hovering and worrying grates on your last nerve, and you tell her to leave.

Predictably, she refuses.

"Listen, I'm not just gonna leave you here on your own." She leans across your workspace, her body pressing against your laptop screen until it tilts halfway closed. You freeze, fingers suspended above the keys, terrified of losing what little progress you've made in this digital archaeology expedition. "There's - like - a murderer on campus."

"One girl said she was followed home," you gently remind. Under normal circumstances, Emma's mother-hen routine would be endearing — charming, even. But right now, with your project in shambles and deadline looming, her protective hovering feels suffocating. "Not murdered, Em."

"May as well have been." Emma fixes you with that look ��� the one that screams why am I the only rational person here? While her nails tap nervously against your desk. "Probably hasn't left her room since. And you know what? Smart girl.”

You scrub your hands over your face, your eyes fixed on the projector's word vomit — an endless stream of error messages and unintelligible code painting the drywall from a tired projector like some twisted modern art piece.

Not exactly what you were going for.

Emma stands mesmerized, "How did you even do this?" She watches the cryptic display crawl across the wall, her eyes tracking each line as if she could decode it. "This reminds me of-" she catches herself, the name hanging unspoken between you. She's learned that lesson the hard way. "This is wild.”

You can't help but notice.

Notice how she almost speaks his name, how these meaningless strings of letters and numbers somehow bridge the gap to memories you've tried so hard to bury — promises whispered under star-sprinkled skies, fingers intertwined beneath the cosmic glow.

Moments that felt eternal then, ephemeral now.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, lying face-down like a surrender.

You blink several times, trying to clear the ghosts from your vision before speaking, your voice emerging barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves might shatter something in the air, "Should I text him?" You ask, offering the idea as if it was something too controversial to be spoken aloud.

Emma shifts her weight, both from exhaustion and the sudden weight of responsibility.

Your night's trajectory now rests in her hands — she who has witnessed every shade of you, from triumph to devastation. Her own memories of him surface: the way he'd raid her ice cream stash only to replace it with a premium pint the next day, how he'd tackle the dish mountain without prompting, those small gestures that made him feel like family.

"He was my favorite boyfriend of yours," she'd told you once, in a moment of wine-honest conversation. "He was a good boy."

A good boy who made a couple mistakes.

But those mistakes had compounded like interest on a debt you never agreed to pay, until the rift between you and Luigi widened into an ocean.

Everything good had been pulled out with the tide — your trust, your shared future — swept away to depths where no light could reach.

"I-" Emma's hand finds the back of her neck, her expression cycling through a slideshow of conflicted emotions. You can see her internal struggle; the desire to crawl into her bed warring with her loyalty to you. And she knows you well enough to realize you'd stay here until sunrise if necessary. "I mean — babe, I love you, but you can't fix this." The admission seems to pain her, as if acknowledging your limitations feels like betrayal. "We aren't techies."

You stare helplessly at your gutted gallery, stripped bare by your own accidental digital vandalism. Your artwork, your portfolio, your future — all reduced to incomprehensible strings of code projected onto an indifferent wall.

"Do you think he'd come?" The question escapes before you can stop it, your eyes magnetized to your phone as if your stare alone could resurrect that old text thread, buried beneath months of careful silence.

"Of course he would."

A soft, defeated whine escapes you as you turn back to glare at your corrupted work, as if you could intimidate it into fixing itself through sheer force of will.

Emma's voice softens, "Hey, he's mature enough to understand you've exhausted your options."

A violent shudder runs through you at the thought of Luigi being your last resort.

You'd managed to exile the visceral memories — the heated arguments that left you gasping for air, the promises that turned to vapor in the morning light.

"Which are?"

Emma looks down at her Pokemon-clad self, then back at you. "Me." She gestures vaguely in your direction, "and you."

The campus sleeps around you, everyone else lost to their dreams or late-night calls home. Just the two of you remain, trapped in this dimly-lit purgatory on a Wednesday night, while error messages mock your existence with their endless scroll.

"Slim pickin's," you mutter as your fingers betray you, finding Luigi's contact with muscle memory that refuses to die.

How many times had you pressed these same digits before?

But this is different.

Different because you haven't spoken since that night in your kitchen, when you stood with your back to him, voice steady despite the trembling in your hands, "So, we aren't going to try to figure this out?" You asked, and he’d responded with some pretentious comparison about your relationship being like corrupted code, fundamentally flawed, destined to fail its own quality test.

The irony isn't lost on you — the very metaphor he used to end things is now the thread that might pull you back into his orbit. Your only connection besides the elaborate dance of avoidance across campus, treating each other's paths like holy ground neither dares to tread.

Opening the thread, you're greeted by your last exchange — your final words to him blazing across the screen in angry blue bubbles: "I want my fucking shit back or I'll make your life a living hell." Such poetry. Your new message hovers in the text box, simpler, desperate in its brevity.

Hey need help with somethin. U up??

You thrust your phone at Emma like it's burning your fingers, watching her eyes widen as they catch on those months-old texts — digital artifacts of your rage that should have been scrubbed before tonight's desperate plea. "Jesus," she whispers, amusement dancing in her expression. "I'd still be licking my wounds if I were hi-"

The familiar buzz cuts through the air, a notification chime that once made your heart leap but now makes it sink.

"What'd he say?" You mumble, gaze fixed on the mocking projection that bathes the room in its sickly digital glow, code continuing its relentless march across the wall.

Emma settles into a chair, hunching over your laptop's makeshift altar. "Said he's at Ruddy's." She squints at a fresh message. "He said 'what do you want?'" She deepens her voice into a cartoonish baritone, making him sound like a caveman discovering text messaging for the first time.

You can't blame him for the cold response — you’d scorched that earth thoroughly.

But a selfish part of you wants to delete the whole exchange, pretend this moment of weakness never happened, go back to the careful choreography of avoiding each other's existence.

But you can't.

The corrupted gallery looming on the wall is a stark reminder that pride is a luxury you can't afford right now.

His icy reception is the natural consequence of your scorched-earth campaign, those venom-laced messages sent in the throes of heartbreak and confusion.

You'd played the role of the woman scorned perfectly, even though you'd written your own tragic script.

"Just send him a picture." You wave listlessly at the wall, where your work continues its digital decomposition, folding in on itself like a dying star. The error messages stretch into an endless serpent of nonsense, each iteration making less sense than the last.

The artificial shutter sound of Emma's photo breaks the silence, followed by the soft swoosh of sending. The wait feels eternal until-

Ding

Emma's attention snaps to your phone resting on her thigh, her eyes widening. "He's typing like he-"

Sorry;m,, I’m fucked uo

Up

I am

fucked up

Emma clicks her tongue and rises, crossing the room to lob your phone into your lap, screen up. "Guess some things don't change." You manage a weak half-grin, memories flooding back unbidden — Luigi stumbling into your dorm in the small hours, wrapped in whiskeys warmth, all soft edges and desperate hands.

"Well, make up your mind." Emma's yawn threatens to unhinge her jaw, arms wrapping around herself like armor. "Are we done here, or are you gonna have him come take a look?"

I’n be there son

I’ll be rherw soo

I’ll be there soon

You stand to wrap your arms around Emma’s shoulders who reluctantly curves her arms upward to squeeze your shoulders. “Go home.” She seems reluctant to listen, staring at your phone screen as if it would take her home itself. “I promise, I’ll be just fine.”

The space between you pulses with that unique warmth reserved for someone who shares your roof, your darkest secrets, and the monthly struggle with Con Edison. "Just don't make any brash decisions."

"Oh, Em." You press a kiss to her forehead. "You think I'm so much cooler than I am."

Emma's laugh follows her as she spins toward the door, collecting pieces of herself like breadcrumbs — the scarf draped over a chair, the coat hung forgotten, the backpack abandoned when the day still held promise.

Each item a marker of how long this digital nightmare has stretched, from sunshine to moonlight.

And as if summoned by cosmic irony, the lab door swings open to reveal Luigi. "Oh - hey, E." The surprise flickers across his face before he schools his features back to neutral.

"Hey, Lu." Her greeting carries the easy familiarity of their old routine, like NPCs in a cozy game exchanging preset dialogue, their paths crossing exactly as programmed.

"You g'na help me with this?"

Emma shakes her head, patting his shoulder as she passes — a gentle handoff. "I did my time." You want to protest, but words fail as you absorb the sight of him, eight months of careful avoidance crumbling in an instant.

"Ahh-" Luigi waves, feigning disappointment through the druken haze. "Need a walk back home?"

Ever the shepherd, guardian of late-night wanderers.

It didn't matter who you were — friend, stranger, ex-lover’s best friend and roommate — his self-appointed mission to ensure everyone's safe return never wavered.

You'd once wondered if it stemmed from some deeper anxiety, his mind unable to rest until every sheep was accounted for in its fold.

Tonight though, the alcohol has mercifully dulled that protective instinct. Emma's potential disappearance into the night ranks lower on his list of concerns than usual, although Emma herself had been the one earlier to warn you of the murderer on campus.

"You still got my location," Emma reminds him — a callback to conversations past, to the day she'd granted Luigi permanent access to her whereabouts, a level of trust you'd wisely withheld.

"Right."

She presses a kiss to her fingers, flashing you a peace sign with the same hand before it briefly lands on Luigi's shoulder. Then she's gone, disappearing into the snow-globe world he'd just stumbled in from. He stands before you now, arms hanging like dead weight, his eyes somehow both wide and narrow.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey."

You gesture weakly at the wall where your work writhes in digital agony. "So, uh — remember that time you salvaged Professor Wren’s entire thesis when her drive crashed?"

Luigi's eyes follow your hand, professional interest temporarily overriding the awkwardness. He steps closer, squinting at the corrupted display, "Jesus," he mutters, "what did you do to it?"

"Would you believe me if I said nothing?" The laugh that escapes is more nervous than you'd like. "It just. - it started disintegrating during final checks."

He's already pulling out his laptop, muscle memory from countless late-night tech rescues. The familiarity of it hits you in the chest — how many times had you watched him do this same thing, hunched over his keyboard, bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration?

"I can try," he says finally, not quite meeting your eyes. "But no promises. When's this due?"

"Tomorrow at nine."

"Of course it is." He drops into the chair beside you, close enough that your elbows almost touch, but enough of a distance to still feel far away. “Okay, walk me through what it's supposed to look like when it's not — uh - whatever this is."

For a moment, Luigi stares at the corrupted display where red pixels bleed and stutter across the wall. His fingers hover over his keyboard, then pause. "Wait. This is your circulatory modeling project? The one you were-“ He cuts himself off, remembering this was before the eight months of silence.

"Yeah." You swallow. "It was working perfectly until an hour ago. Real-time hemodynamics, pressure differentials, vessel elasticity. Everything." Your voice cracks slightly on the last word, feeling more helpless when you verbalize it.

He nods, already typing with uncanny precision despite the slight sway in his posture. "Show me the base code. Did you save any backups?"

"Three. All corrupted." You lean forward, careful not to crowd him as you pull up the mangled files. "It's like something got into the core simulation and just - I dunno - started rewriting them."

"Hm." His eyes scan the screen with that laser focus he somehow maintains no matter how much he drinks, that familiar furrow appearing between his brows. "These values are cascading. One corrupted variable triggering a chain reaction through the whole system." He glances at you, slightly overshooting before correcting. "When's the last time it ran correctly?"

You check your phone. "6:43 PM. I have a screen recording from then."

"Good. That's good." He pulls up a second window, his typing still flawless even as he reaches with his free hand to steady himself against the desk. "We can compare the execution logs, maybe isolate where it started going wrong." His fingers fly across the keys with a precision that seems to mock his clearly inebriated state, and for a moment, it feels like those eight months never happened. "I'm going to need coffee for this." He looks up at you from where he sat, “Or more booze.”

You land on coffee, your feet carrying you down the familiar path to the kitchenette.

The fluorescent lights flicker dimly at this hour, casting strange shadows across the linoleum, the lab's overpriced espresso machine hums to life under your touch, its gentle whirring a counterpoint to the distant sound of Luigi's typing.

Suddenly you're back in that first year, both of you hunched over at 3 AM, him teaching you the proper way to pull a shot: “You're murdering it, stop torturing the beans”, your quiet laughter echoing through empty halls.

"Got it.” His voice carries down the corridor, slurred but triumphant, snapping you back to present.

You return to find him illuminated by screen-glow, his tie loosened and dark hair disheveled. The paper cup lands in front of him — double shot, one packet of raw sugar.

He doesn't stir it, never has.

Instead, he tips the cup back, and you hear that familiar crunch of sugar crystals between his teeth, a sound that used to drive you crazy, until somewhere along the way it became endearing.

Still, the jumbled code taunts you from the screen, though its chaos seems less threatening now. Under Luigi's touch — steady despite the alcohol —- your final project is slowly remembering its original shape.

"You should have texted sooner," Luigi murmurs, tilting his head back to collect the last sugar crystals from his cup. The movement exposes his throat, his collar wrinkled where he's been tugging at it all night.

"Well," you say, watching the way his fingers dance across the keys, each stroke precise despite his obvious intoxication, "takes a minute to swallow something as big as my ego."

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, eyes never leaving the screen where broken code is knitting itself back together under his attention.

"Oh," he huffs out a laugh, the sound low and dangerous in the quiet lab, "I've seen you swallow far bigger things before."

It strikes like summer lightning — quick, bright, and leaving the air charged in its wake. The innuendo lands with no real bite, yet you find your jaw slack, a startled laugh shaking loose from your chest.

"Kidding," Luigi says, his eyes flicking from screen to you and back again. There’s a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, softened by the alcohol but still sharp enough to cut. You wave him back to his work, grateful for the blue glow of monitors that hides your flush. "You kinda set that up perfectly, though."

He squints up at the projection where your broken code still bleeds across the wall, letting out a soft grunt of frustration at some digital roadblock. "Just mean — ya know, you could have caught me two beers deep instead of seven."

You shrug a shoulder, watching as the projection slowly crystallizes into something recognizable. "Seems you work better under such conditions."

The lie tastes metallic.

You both know the truth.

Luigi would have come if he was sober as sunrise or drowning in bourbon. Would have come with broken ribs or pneumonia or his heart barely beating. Would have traced these familiar hallways blind, deaf, or dying — because that's what the two of you do.

Have always done.

You've seen him at rock bottom, curled into himself on cold bathroom tiles at midnight, trembling hands pressed against his mouth as if he could physically hold back the pain that wracked his body. Watched him try to explain to puzzled doctors how someone so young could hurt so constantly, the frustration in his voice when they suggested it was all in his head.

You were there through the trials of medications, the nights when existence itself seemed too heavy to bear.

And you've seen him soar; standing tall in that charcoal suit that made him look older, more polished, shaking hands with tech giants who saw in him what you'd always known was there, his future spreading out before him like a golden road, brilliant and boundless.

Now he sits here, seven drinks deep but coding like he's never been clearer, and you realize that maybe both versions are equally true.

Maybe that's what makes him Luigi — the ability to contain multitudes, to be simultaneously broken and brilliant, wounded and wonderful.

He catches you watching him and raises an eyebrow, the gesture slightly delayed, which means you must have been a bit too obvious. "What?"

"Nothing.”

His fingers pause on the keys, and even through the alcoholic haze, his gaze pins you like a butterfly to cork. "No, really. What?" The words have a slight blur around their edges, but his focus is knife-sharp.

You could deflect again, but there's something about 4 AM and code that glows like dying stars that makes honesty feel less dangerous, perhaps you’re finding comfort in the fact that Luigi is drunk, although you’re stone cold sober.

"Just thinking about that time in the Thompson building bathroom." Your voice comes out softer than intended. "When you couldn't stand up, and I had to convince the janitor you had food poisoning."

He doesn't flinch from the memory like he used to.

Instead, his mouth curves into something caught between a smile and a grimace. "You told him it was from the cafeteria." His fingers resume their dance across the keyboard, but slower now. "Got the whole place investigated by health services."

"Yeah, but got us three days off while they checked fucking everything.” you remind him.

"Got me through that week," he corrects quietly, and for a moment, the mask of that brilliant-drunk-techie slips, showing the man underneath who still remembers what it feels like to be held together by nothing but someone else's faith in you.

Then he blinks, and the vulnerability is gone, replaced by that familiar crooked grin. "Though I maintain the cafeteria deserved the inspection anyway."

The projection flickers, another section of code healing itself under his touch, and you wonder if he knows you'd do it all again.

Every bathroom floor, every late-night crisis, every moment of putting him back together - you'd choose it every time.

"Speaking of which," you venture carefully, watching his hands move across the keyboard. "How's the new treatment working?"

His right shoulder shifts in what might be a shrug, but there's a shadow of a real smile playing at his mouth.

Not the sharp, defensive one he wears like armor, but something softer, more genuine. "Six months post-op and I actually slept through the night last week. First time in -“ he pauses, considering, "Fuck, I don't even remember how long."

The admission hangs in the air between you, weighted with the two years of 2 AM phone calls, of nights spent pacing, of pain medications that never quite touched the core of the problem.

Watching him try to code through hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

"Still hurts sometimes," he adds, almost absently. "But it's different now. More like background noise than a scream." His fingers still on the keyboard, and for a moment he looks almost surprised by his own words. "Guess that's what normal people feel like all the time, huh?"

The question carries an edge of wonder, like someone who's lived in darkness suddenly discovering dawn.

You watch him roll his shoulder — a gesture that used to be followed by a wince but now flows smooth and unconscious — and think about how strange it must be, learning to live without constant pain after it's become part of your identity.

"Though I kind of miss having an excuse to drunk-code at 4 AM" he adds, but you both know it's a lie.

The code blurs on the projection as silence settles between you, charged with something that's been building for ages — through bathroom floors and hospital visits, through triumphs and failures, through pain and healing.

The alcohol has stripped away Luigi’s careful boundaries, leaving raw honesty in their place.

"You know," Luigi says slowly, finally turning from the screen to face you fully, "I never thanked you properly. For all of it."

"You don't need to-"

Your diagram pulses back to life, the holographic heart rotating lazily against the wall.

Its red glow bathes the room in a surreal warmth, catching on the sharp angles of Luigi's face, softening them into something almost dreamlike.

The light flickers across his cheekbones, turns his eyes to amber, makes the whole moment feel suspended between reality and imagination.

"I do." His voice is quiet but firm, steadier than someone seven drinks deep should manage. "Because I've been thinking — now that I can actually think clearly without-“he gestures vaguely at his back, at all the years of pain, "I've been thinking about how you're the only constant. The only person who never-“ He trails off.

You lean a little closer, drawn by the vulnerability in his voice. "Never what?"

"Never saw me as broken." He turns himself toward you, and there's something desperate in his eyes, something the alcohol has finally given him the courage to show. "Never treated me like I needed fixing. Just stayed. Through everything."

Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. He takes your silence as a sign, turning back to the screen with a sharp exhale that might be resignation or relief — you're not sure which would be worse.

"Lu,” you say softly, and something in your voice makes his fingers still on the keyboard. "Look at me."

He does, slowly, like he's afraid of what he might find.

The neon bathes half his face in crimson, leaving the other half in shadow, and you see the moment his carefully constructed walls start to crumble.

"Time hasn’t changed that much about me.” you say, each word deliberate, heavy with meaning.

His breath catches audibly. You watch the impact of your words ripple across his face — surprise, understanding, and something else, something that makes your heart race against your ribs.

"Hasn’t it?” Luigi is focusing on you now, the reason he really came here now practically completed but pushed aside until further notice. “Eight months is a long time to hold onto -“ he gestures vaguely between you, as if he can’t quite say what it was. Hopeless devotion, the right person, wrong time.

“Not long enough to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“You.”

His breath catches again, a sharp inhale that seems to pull all the oxygen from the room. When he speaks, his voice is rough and ragged, “Maybe that’s the problem.” His gaze drifts down to watch as you lick your lips, and back up again. “Maybe you should have.”

[thanosscross]

Fake Girlfriend, Fake Boyfriend, Silly! - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader part 2

Summary: Taking a day off from tour, the boys and you make the most of it, going out to party Seung Hyun ends up saying more than what he means too

Warnings: A very drunk and sensitive Seung Hyun

In between shows were always your favorite, it gave you time to enjoy whatever town you were in, this time, it allowed you to relax with your favorite guys, too worn out to really want to do anything other than lay around. As you walked into the shared hotel room you noticed the messy empty room, not a single person to be found.

The boys sat on the couch in the conference room laughing as they answered another question "So, T.o.p, You're now officially on tour with your girlfriend, Y/n, that's got to be exciting, where is she?" The woman asked kindly watching as the boys started to coo at their older friend causing his cheeks up "Y-Yea, it's amazing, Y/n's a really talented artist and being able to work with her has definitely been a change of pace from these weirdos" Seung Hyun teased before glancing at the small clock mounted to the wall, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed it was almost noon and you still hadn't tried messaging or calling any of the boys yet. "As for where she is...She is sleeping upstairs, waking her up is harder than any tour" Ji-Yong added on, leaning over as Seung Hyun checked his phone, Dae-Sung laughing loudly as he saw a message come through

'I swear if you boys left me here alone, I will shave each and every head of hair while you sleep'

"She's so violent!" He laughed loudly as the others leaned over laughing and giggling as they read your message, Finishing up the interview the boys raced to their hotel room, the boys wanting to tell you all the sweet things Seung Hyun said about you, Seung Hyun wanting to get to you before them. You stood cluelessly in your own hotel room, trying to get your hair to lay flat "Y/n!!" You heard their shouts before you saw them all trying to rush through the doorway together "Seung Hyun said you're very talented!" Dae-Sung "He also said he loves his girl!!" Tae-Yang shouted, Seung Hyun stood behind them, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck "I was just acting like a boyfriend" He mumbled following the others into your hotel room "You're very sweet, Aein" You smiled softly, turning to face them all, they all just chose different spots to sit as they sighed "So, what're the plans for today?" You asked sweetly, sitting down next to Ji-Yong on the bed "I would say club, but last time darling over here almost got herself and Seung Hyun in a scandal getting caught grinding on a different guy one night, in reality there wasn't really an issue other than Seung Hyun's jealousy, but to the fans who genuinely thought you and Top were together, they saw it as cheating.

"I didn't mean to!" You shouted throwing yourself onto the bed "Listen! I learned my limit that night!" You added on in protest causing the boys to laugh loudly at your defensiveness "Dalkomi, if you want to go out, I'll go with" Seung Hyun offered.

Which is how you ended up tipsy with a drunk Seung Hyun, you weren't sure how he was so drunk until you noticed one of the V.I.P waitresses refilling his glass anytime it got low. You were having fun though, the boys somewhere on the dance floor other than Ji-Yong, who volunteered to help you make sure nobody went to extreme tonight considering you had a show tomorrow night. "Seung Hyun! You can't grab her like that!" Ji-Yong laughed out watching as his friend very easily moved you around him as he danced, his hands planted firmly on your waist. You just blushed giggling loudly, you liked drunk Seung Hyun, it wasn't often you saw him, but whenever you did, it was always fun, it was always so silly and even flirtier, all while being incredibly sensitive. You squealed as Seung Hyun lifted you into the air, smacking your ass, if it weren't for the fact you were so comfortable with him, you most likely would've smacked him square across the face. "Seung Hyun! Put her down!" Ji-Yong laughed rushing over to you both to keep his hands over Seung Hyun's not wanting to see you get hurt. Placing you on your feet Seung Hyun shot a glare to his friend "She's myyy girl, I would never hurt her!" He slurred, protectively hugging you as he pulled you closer by your hips. You were a flustered mess, between your own alcohol consumption and the high you got just from being around Seung Hyun you were a mess, and Ji-Yong noticed. "Y/n! You want to take him home?" He asked, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear him closely, you nodded in agreement turning your attention to Seung Hyun "You're so pretty" He mumbled admiring the way your eyes were shining under the club lights "Thank you, handsome...Why don't we go back to the hotel?" You asked, taking his hand in yours "I don't want to leave yet, though" He frowned, you just giggled in reply taking his hand into yours gently before leading him to the car that sat waiting outside "I love you, y/n" He slurred as you helped him into the car "Awe, I love you too, you're my best friend" You smiled, squeezing his hand, frowning whenever you watched his face fall "No. I love you, y/n, you're so pretty..and nice..and you always take care of us whenever we need it" He emphasized, turning his head to look at you, you couldn't help but blush, reminding yourself he was always flirty when he was drunk. "You're very sweet, Aein..But let's worry about getting you inside" You offered, taking his hand slowly scooting out of the car as it came to a stop outside of your hotel, getting him inside was nothing, it was getting him to stay in his room.

It had been a good three minutes of not seeing or hearing Seung Hyun which made you worried, as you walked into the connecting room, your heart broke, Seung Hyun drunkenly cried into Ji-Yong's arms who just rubbed his friend's back "She loves you, Seung hyun, but you are drunk, so now is not the time to try and tell her-" He was cut off by his friend "She's just...so nice to me" He sniffled, holding his friends shoulders as Ji-yong laughed softly, remembering an almost similar between you and him a few months after coming out with your fake relationship "I understand that, and she is very nice, but you are going to regret not shutting up in the morning" He replied, trying to help his friend lay down, Seung Hyun just let out another flood of tears fall "Ji-yong..I've got this, love" You said softly making your way to your friend taking his hand in yours before offering him a sympathetic smile "Come on, you can crash with me" You offered helping him to his feet as he smiled at you "See? She's so nice!" Seung hyun cried out as you pulled him to your hotel room, shutting the door so the others could go to sleep as well. "Dalkomi" Seung Hyun called as he fell back onto the bed "Yes?" You asked walking over to help him take off his belt and shoes "Do you want to change?" Your voice was soft, forcing Seung Hyun's attention to it as he took in every little feature of your face like he had done plenty of times before.

Seung Hyun stopped thinking for a moment, even drunk he wasn't sure about taking his clothes off, he knew you'd never be rude towards him or his body, but his mind couldn't stop throwing different situations at him. He was pulled from his racing thoughts by your soft hand cupping his cheek "Seung hyun...You don't have too...or I can step out for a moment?" You offered softly, Seung Hyun wished you'd just stop, stop being so nice to him and making him fall in love you, but you just kept going, even whenever you were grumpy and angry at him, he still liked it. "I love you" He said, holding your hand in both of his, pressing it against his lips gently "Seung Hyun..why don't we talk about this..in the morning?" You hesitated, were you really about to have this conversation with him? "I love you too, more than you know...but Ji-Yong is right, now is not the time" You explained, watching his eyes glisten with excitement for a moment before he nodded "I'll change" He stated after a moment, standing up making his way to your bathroom, pulling his shirt off as he turned to enter the room. It took a few moments, but once Seung Hyun got his night clothes on, he looked in the mirror, taking in his state.

You nervously let your knuckles hit against the bathroom door softly "Aein..Are you okay?.." You called, worried something might've happened, instead the door just slowly opened, you cheeks Immediately heated up with a blush as you noticed his bare chest right in front of you "Yea..yea, I'm okay" He smiled, you took his hand helping him walk properly back to the bed, helping him lay down before going to get changed yourself. It wasn't long before Seung Hyun saw you shyly emerge from the bathroom "U-Um I can't get this..undone, will you?" You asked walking over to him, before sitting down in front of you friend, showing him the dress zipper that was caught in the fabric. You felt a shiver run down your back as your felt his hands brush against your skin, feeling him struggle with the fabric before you felt the dress start to slide down your body, the zipper finally giving up it's hold on the dress fabric setting you free. You quickly caught the fabric holding it to your chest as you rushed back into the bathroom to finish changing, as Seung Hyun laid back down he couldn't push the image of you sitting in front of him with your dress half way down, out of his head, the way your beauty just sucked all of his attention amazed him in the best ways.

You made your way back to the bed, wearing only a pair of night shorts and Seung Hyun's hoodie as you crawled underneath the covers next to Seung Hyun. Glancing over taking in his lost in thought expression, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him to closer to lay his head on your shoulder "I promise..We'll talk in the morning, if you still want too" You assured, resting your head on the top of his as you started to doze off.

The next morning you woke up hopeful, but as the day passed on, the more you got a nerve wracking feeling in your chest, Seung Hyun was acting as if nothing had happened the night before, you knew he was drunk, but he couldn't of been that drunk, right? You stood back stage, waiting for the cue to begin you looked at Seung Hyun, he was joking around pushing Dae-sung off of his mark, getting pushed back in return. Hearing that you'd be delayed by five minutes you took your chance to step towards your friend looking up at him "Seung Hyun..what are we?" you asked quietly, hoping the others wouldn't hear, but unfortunately for everybody, they saw exactly what was happening. "What're you talking about? We're fake girlfriend and boyfriend, silly" He chuckled, his face dropping whenever the props started to move suddenly, the screams of the fans getting louder, panicking knowing neither of you were on your marks, Seung Hyun quickly wrapped his arms around your waist dipping you down as he pressed his lips to your cheek, holding you there until the music started.

You'd all be lying if you said this performance wasn't different than the others, there was something between you and Seung Hyun and everybody could see it, you tried to keep your feelings shoved down as you preformed, as soon as your show ended you were quick to go to your hotel room, locking yourself in not wanting to do anything other than sleep and mentally kick yourself for being so hopeful and stupid.

--

You like? Also per requests, Up next on the posting schedule is part four of in my club! And then possibly part two of There all along! So keep your eyes peeled for those! <3 Excited to hear from you lovelies!

--

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@heartz4rubyy

@lilou-0401

[scrollonso]

Cinnamon — Strollonso (1) (Prologue)

Lance sat at the same round table in the campus café, nursing yet another iced coffee, but this time, his nerves were frayed. His mind kept replaying the interaction with Dr. Alonso from the day before — the way his gaze had lingered, the way his voice had softened when he said Lance’s name.

“Earth to Lance.”

Jessica’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She, Esteban, Charles, and Zhou were all gathered around him again, but this time, they looked like they were dying to know what was going on inside his head.

“So?” Charles prompted, leaning in eagerly. “What’s the plan? Are you gonna talk to him again?”

"Are you going to suck him off?" Somehow, Zhou always knew what to say to get Charles to try and knock some sense into him.

Lance groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Esteban snorted. “You’re definitely flirting with him.”

“I’m not—”

Jessica cut him off with a knowing grin. “Oh, you are. And he’s flirting back.”

Lance peeked at her through his fingers. “You really think so?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Yes, Lance. We all think so. The only question is: what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Lance could answer, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the email notification:

From: alonso@mit.edu

Subject: Office Hours

Lance tapped the screen, opening the email.

Mr. Stroll,

I noticed you seemed uncertain during yesterday’s lecture. If you’d like to discuss the reading further, I’ll be holding office hours this afternoon at 2 PM.

Dr. Fernando Alonso

Lance stared at the message, his mind racing.

Jessica grabbed his phone out of his hand. “Oh my God. He totally wants you to come see him.”

Zhou whistled. “Office hours. That’s classic professor code for ‘I want to see you alone.’”

Lance snatched his phone back. “It’s not—” He stopped, rereading the email. “Okay… maybe it is.”

Esteban grinned. “You’re going, right?”

“I don’t know,” Lance muttered, his fingers twitching over his phone. “What if I’m wrong? What if he’s just being nice?”

Charles shook his head. “Nice professors don’t stare at their students like they’re dessert, Lance. Go.”

Jessica smirked. “Besides, don’t you want to see him? You’ve been drooling over his forearms for weeks.”

Lance flushed. “Fine. I’ll go.”

At 2 PM sharp, Lance stood outside Dr. Alonso’s office door, his palms sweaty again. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated.

Before he could talk himself out of it, the door opened.

Dr. Alonso stood there, impeccably dressed as always, his expression calm but unreadable.

“Mr. Stroll,” he greeted, stepping aside to let Lance in. “I’m glad you came.”

Lance swallowed hard and stepped inside, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dr. Alonso closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sounding far louder than it should have.

“I thought we could go over the reading in more detail,” Dr. Alonso said, motioning for Lance to take a seat. "it's not often you struggle in my class so i'd rather eliminate any possible confusion before you get behind."

Lance sat down, trying not to fidget as Dr. Alonso moved to sit across from him. The desk between them felt like a flimsy barrier, one that could easily be crossed.

“So,” Dr. Alonso began, his gaze steady. “Power dynamics. You seemed particularly interested in that topic yesterday.”

Lance cleared his throat, struggling to find his voice as he pursed his lips into a fine line. “Yeah, um… it’s an interesting concept.”

Dr. Alonso tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “It is. Especially when applied to… certain relationships.”

Lance’s breath caught.

“Tell me,” Dr. Alonso continued, his voice dropping just slightly, “what do you think happens when one person holds more power in a relationship? How does it affect… let's say, attraction?”

Lance’s heart was racing now. Was this still about ethics?

“I think…” Lance hesitated, meeting Dr. Alonso’s gaze. “I think it depends on whether the power is mutual.”

Dr. Alonso leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “And do you think it can be?”

Lance nodded slowly. “Yeah. If both people are willing to… share it.”

Dr. Alonso’s smile deepened. “A wise answer.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them crackled with tension, unspoken words hanging heavily in the silence.

Finally, Dr. Alonso stood, walking around the desk until he was standing just in front of Lance.

Lance looked up — he hadn't felt this small in god knows how long — his pulse thundering in his ears.

“You’re not just any student, Mr. Stroll,” Dr. Alonso said softly, his eyes never leaving Lance’s. “You’ve… caught my attention.”

Lance’s breath hitched. “I have?”

Dr. Alonso nodded, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from Lance’s forehead.

“Yes,” he murmured. “And I find myself… wanting to know more.”

Lance’s heart nearly exploded. Holy shit. This is actually happening.

“And you?” Dr. Alonso asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you feel the same?”

Lance swallowed hard, then nodded. “Oh, Yea— Yeah… I do.”

Dr. Alonso’s hand lingered for a moment before he pulled away, stepping back.

“We’ll need to be careful,” he said, his tone serious. “But if you’re willing to take the ri—”

Lance stood, closing the distance between them. “I am.”

Their eyes met once more, and this time, neither of them looked away.

Dr. Alonso’s lips curved into a smile. “Good.”

For a moment, the world outside the office ceased to exist. Lance could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, his gaze locked on Dr. Alonso’s — no, Fernando’s — dark, intense eyes.

Fernando leaned against the desk, his posture casual yet commanding. “You’re certain?” he asked, his voice low and deliberate.

Lance nodded again, more confident this time. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

A flicker of something passed through Fernando’s gaze — surprise, maybe even amusement. He crossed his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing under his rolled-up sleeves.

“You realize this… complicates things,” Fernando said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

Lance couldn’t help but grin back. “I’ve never really been one to go for simple.” He figured that much was obvious considering he was a double major and had managed to take one of Fernando's classes two years in a row now.

Fernando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Of course you haven’t.”

The tension between them hung in the air, thicker now, charged with anticipation. Lance shifted his weight from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to close the remaining space between them again.

Fernando tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “There’s a fine line, you know, between temptation and consequence.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “Which side are we on right now?”

Fernando’s smile deepened. “That depends on how far you’re willing to go.”

Lance took a slow step forward, his voice steady. “I told you — I’m all in.”

The room felt smaller now, the distance between them shrinking with each breath. Fernando watched Lance carefully, his expression unreadable, but there was no denying the spark in his eyes.

“I could lose everything,” Fernando murmured, almost to himself.

“And so could I,” Lance countered, his tone gentle but firm.

For a long moment, Fernando said nothing. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached out, his fingers brushing Lance’s cheek. The touch was light, tentative, as if testing the boundaries of what they were about to cross.

“You’re dangerous, Mr. Stroll,” Fernando whispered, his thumb grazing Lance’s jaw.

Lance smiled, leaning into the touch. “Maybe you like it.”

Fernando chuckled again, his hand slipping to the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him just a fraction closer.

“Perhaps I do,” he murmured, before finally — finally — closing the distance between them.

The kiss started soft, almost cautious, as if both of them were testing the waters. But the moment Fernando’s hand slid to the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him closer, the tension that had been simmering between them exploded.

Lance’s hands gripped Fernando’s shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t holding back anymore — neither of them were. Fernando's lips moved with purpose, deepening the kiss until it became all-consuming, leaving Lance breathless. Their mouths melded together in a frantic rhythm, desperate and hungry.

Fernando backed Lance up against the desk, his hands traveling down to Lance’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Lance gasped into the kiss, his fingers sliding into Fernando’s hair, tugging just enough to earn a soft groan from the older man. It sent a shiver down Lance’s spine.

“Fuck,” Lance whispered against Fernando’s lips, his voice shaky.

Fernando chuckled, his breath warm on Lance’s skin. “Language, Mr. Stroll.”

Lance laughed softly, tilting his head to capture Fernando’s mouth again, more eagerly this time. Their kisses grew messier, more fervent, teeth clashing and tongues tangling. Fernando’s hand slipped under the hem of Lance’s shirt, fingers tracing over his hipbones, and Lance arched into the touch.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” Fernando murmured, his voice low and strained.

Lance bit his lip, his cheeks flushed. “I think I’m starting to.”

Fernando’s lips found Lance’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw and down to his collarbone. Lance tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut as Fernando nipped at his skin, leaving faint marks.

“You’re driving me insane,” Fernando muttered, his grip tightening on Lance’s waist.

“Good,” Lance breathed out, pulling Fernando even closer. His heart was pounding, every nerve in his body alight with desire. “I want to.”

Fernando pulled back just enough to meet Lance’s gaze, his eyes dark with want. “Careful,” he said, voice rough. “You don’t know what you’re starting.”

Lance smiled, his lips swollen and his hair a mess. “Maybe I do.”

“I’ve wanted to do this for longer than I care to admit,” Fernando confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

Lance laughed softly, brushing his fingers through Fernando’s hair. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

The moment was perfect — until a sharp knock on the door shattered the silence.

Fernando pulled back quickly, straightening his posture and smoothing down his shirt. Lance stepped back as well, his heart still racing.

“Come in,” Fernando called, his voice calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.

The door creaked open, revealing Jessica standing there with a smug grin on her face.

“Lance, you’re late for our study session,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. Her eyes flicked to Fernando briefly before returning to Lance, a knowing look in her gaze.

Lance cleared his throat, grabbing his bag. “Right. Study session.”

Jessica smirked, stepping aside to let Lance out. “See you in class, Dr. Alonso.”

Fernando nodded, his expression perfectly professional. “See you, Ms. Hawkins.”

As they walked down the hallway, Jessica glanced at Lance. “So… how was your ‘context’ conversation?”

Lance groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t start.”

Jessica laughed. “Oh, I won’t. But Charles and Esteban? Good luck.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile, his mind still lingering on the kiss — the kisses.

“Worth it,” he muttered under his breath.

Jessica raised an eyebrow at him as they walked. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Lance said quickly, but the grin tugging at his lips gave him away.

Jessica looped her arm through his. “You’re glowing, Stroll. I’ve never seen you like this. I mean, I know Dr. Alonso is… well, ridiculously hot — but damn. I didn’t expect you to actually do something about it.”

Lance’s cheeks turned pink, and he tried to hide his face by looking straight ahead. “It wasn’t planned.”

“Oh, clearly,” Jessica teased. “You just happened to make out with your ethics professor during office hours. Totally normal.”

Lance groaned. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’ve been crushing on him for a while.”

Jessica stopped in her tracks, forcing Lance to do the same. “You think?”

Before he could answer, the sound of familiar voices echoed down the hallway. Charles and Esteban were leaning against the wall outside the study lounge, deep in conversation.

When they spotted Lance and Jessica approaching, Esteban’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where the hell have you been?”

Charles crossed his arms, a smirk already forming on his lips. “Wait. Don’t tell me. Were you—”

Jessica cut him off, grinning wickedly. “Let’s just say someone got a little distracted.”

Lance shot her a warning look. “Don’t.”

But Esteban was already piecing it together. His jaw dropped. “No way. No fucking way. You and Alonso?”

Charles barked out a laugh. “You absolute madman.”

“Guys, seriously—” Lance started, but it was no use.

“Holy shit,” Esteban said, his eyes wide. “This is like… forbidden romance. Teacher-student. Secret meetings. Do you know how scandalous this is?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “It’s not a soap opera, Esteban.”

Charles leaned in, his grin smug. “So… was it good?”

Lance flushed, glaring at his friends. “I hate all of you.”

“Come on, tell us,” Charles pushed. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who does anything halfway.”

Lance groaned again, rubbing his temples. “I’m not discussing my love life with you two.”

“Love life?” Esteban repeated, eyes wide. “You’re calling it a love life already?”

“God, you’re all insufferable,” Lance muttered, but he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face. His thoughts kept drifting back to Fernando’s touch, his kiss, the way he’d looked at him like Lance was the only person in the world.

Jessica patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Lance. We’re just jealous. None of our professors look like that.”

“Or kiss like that,” Charles added with a wink.

“Shut up,” Lance hissed, though he couldn’t help laughing.

As they finally settled into the study lounge, Esteban leaned over, whispering conspiratorially, “So… what happens now?”

Lance’s smile softened. “Now? I guess… we figure it out.”

And, deep down, he already knew he was willing to take the risk — because something told him that whatever he and Fernando had started was only the beginning.

Next

[adddddiiii]

Hi! Could I request a Damian x femreader where her parents don't accept Damian because they think he is a playboy like his father and because they don't want their daugther to have a boyfriend to distract her from her studies, so they force them to break up amd now Damian need to gain their approval so her parents will let them date

Winning Their Approval

Contents: Damian Wayne x reader

Warnings: One use of y/n

The first time Damian met your parents, he’d thought it went well—at least on the surface. They were polite, though your father’s firm handshake lingered just a bit too long, and your mother’s smile seemed more rehearsed than genuine. You had reassured him afterward that they simply needed time to warm up to him.

But time hadn’t helped.

When they sat you down one evening to announce their decision, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“We don’t think Damian is the right fit for you,” your mother said firmly. “You’re so focused on your studies right now, sweetie, and we don’t want anything—or anyone—distracting you from your future.”

Your father chimed in, his tone sterner. “Besides, Damian comes from a… colorful background. His father’s reputation precedes him, and we have no reason to believe he’s any different.”

You’d argued, of course. You’d told them how Damian wasn’t like Bruce, how he was caring, loyal, and supportive. But they wouldn’t listen. By the time you called Damian to tell him what had happened, you were in tears.

“I don’t care what they think,” Damian had said, his voice low and firm through the phone. “They don’t get to decide who you’re with. If you want to keep seeing me-”

“No, Damian,” you interrupted, your heart breaking. “I can’t go against them right now. Please, just give me some time to figure this out.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Damian had no response. The line went quiet for a moment before he finally whispered, “Okay. But I’m not giving up.”

You tried to move on, to focus on your schoolwork and avoid the ache in your chest, but Damian was never far from your mind. Late at night, you stared at the messages you wanted to send him, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before deleting them.

Unbeknownst to you, Damian wasn’t just waiting on the sidelines. He was strategizing.

One Friday evening, your parents called you into the living room and your stomach dropped when you saw Damian sitting on the couch, his posture perfect, hands resting on his knees. His expression was calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.

“What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and your parents.

“Damian requested to meet us,” your father said, his tone unreadable. “He wants to… prove himself.”

Your eyes widened, and you looked at Damian. He met your gaze, his green eyes filled with determination.

“Y/n, I meant what I said. I’m not giving up on us,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that made your heart clench.

Your mother cleared her throat, pulling your attention back. “Damian asked for a chance to prove that he’s serious about you—and about respecting our concerns. We decided to give him an opportunity to try.”

Damian’s efforts were nothing short of extraordinary. He volunteered to help you study for your exams, often coming over to your house and sitting with you for hours. He was patient when you struggled and quick to clear your doubts.

When your parents observed him, they couldn’t deny his dedication. He wasn’t a distraction — he was an ally.

One evening, after helping you solve a particularly challenging problem, Damian leaned back in his chair, smirking.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” he said.

You rolled your eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you want my parents to like you.”

“Not true,” he replied, leaning closer. “I’d say it even if they didn’t exist.”

Your laughter filled the room, and for a moment, everything felt normal again.

But Damian didn’t stop there. He invited your parents to a formal dinner at Wayne Manor, where Alfred prepared an exquisite meal. Damian made sure to engage them in thoughtful conversation, so he could truly show them how much he cared about you.

“I want your daughter to succeed just as much as you do,” he told them while they were all waiting for dessert. “I don’t want to hold her back — I want to be someone who helps her reach her potential.”

One evening, as you and Damian were studying in the living room, your father called him aside. You watched nervously as they disappeared into the kitchen.

“I’ve been watching you,” your father said, crossing his arms. “You’ve done everything we’ve asked and more. But I need to know one thing — why are you so determined to be with my daughter?”

Damian didn’t hesitate. “Because she’s the most important person in my life. She makes me want to be better. I care about her, sir. Deeply. And I’m willing to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

Your father stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “All right. You’ve earned my respect. But remember — if you ever hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”

Damian’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Understood.”

When your parents finally gave their approval, you could hardly believe it. You threw your arms around Damian and hugged him hard.

“I told you I’d win them over,” he murmured, holding you close.

“You’re amazing,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “But so are you."

And from that day on, you faced the world together, knowing that nothing—not even the initial disapproval of your parents—could keep you apart.

[charlotte-queen-owl]

Our little sister, who had decked two boys in her class, is Top 1 in her Grade. Fucking W.

[verstappenverse]

Knight of My Heart

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After one too many drinks, a protective Max arrives right when you need him most.

1.7k words / Masterlist

It was nearly 2am when Max’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, dragging him from the edges of sleep. The faint light from his screen illuminated the dark room, and he reached for it with a groggy hand, squinting at the text that appeared.

“She’s drunk. Like realllly drunk. Can you come get her?”

Max sat up, his heart already sinking. The message was from one of your friends, someone whose name he only half-remembered from the countless times they’d insisted they’d “watch out for you.” Max knew better by now. He sighed, ranking a hand through his messy hair, before throwing the blanket off and quickly pulling on a hoodie and jeans.

The drive to the club was quiet, but Max’s mind wasn’t. He hated these nights. It wasn’t just the thought of you being drunk and vulnerable; it was the idea that you were so carefree and beautiful, and people always noticed. Too many times Max had seen guys try to get too close, their smiles too slick and intentions too obvious.

When he finally pulled up outside the club he saw you almost immediately. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

You were leaning against a lamp post near the curb swaying slightly in your heels, a dazed smile on your face as a man hovered beside you. Max’s chest tightened at the sight. The guy was too close, his body angled toward yours as he spoke animatedly, gesturing with his hands. You laughed softly at whatever he said, your voice carrying over the low thrum of the music spilling from the club’s entrance.

Max killed the engine and climbed out, his jaw set. His strides were purposeful, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“Maxie!” you squealed the moment you spotted him, your arms flinging open in delight.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his torso and nearly toppling yourself over in the process.

The guy looked over at Max, not at all intimidated, but Max didn’t care. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching by his sides as he stepped closer.

“You good?” Max asks you, his voice a little rougher than usual.

The man gave Max a once-over, clearly sizing him up. “She seems fine to me,” he said, his tone too casual for Max’s liking.

Max’s eyes narrow, the jealousy coursing through him now unmistakable. He took a step closer to you, brushing his hand lightly against your shoulder. “Oh because you know her so well, right?” he asked the guy, voice clipped.

With a taunting smirk, the guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “She was just telling me about her night. She looked like she needed some company.”

Max wasn’t having it, he stands tall, his body blocking your view of the man now. “Right, I don’t think you understand,” Max replied dryly, placing a firm hand on your waist. “I’m her boyfriend, she's mine. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll take it from here.”

The man’s lips twitched, as though he wanted to argue, but something in Max’s gaze seemed to convince him otherwise. With a tight nod, he muttered a quick, “Whatever man,” and walked off into the crowd.

As the guy disappeared, Max’s frustration didn’t completely fade, but he focused right back on you. Guiding you towards his car, hand never leaving your side. You leaned into him, your cheek resting against his shoulder the alcohol making your limbs feel heavy.

You looked up at him, your face slightly flushed, your eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” you asked quietly.

Max’s lips press together tightly, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy still lingering. “I’m fine,” he said, even though he’s anything but. "Just... I want you to be safe, alright?"

You nod, though your head wobbles slightly. "I know... just wanted to have fun."

Max exhaled slowly, his tension only easing slightly as he turned to you. You were beaming up at him, clearly oblivious to the small confrontation that had just unfolded.

“I get it,” he said softly, his hand steadying you at your waist. “But where are your friends?”

“They’re inside,” you mumbled, waving a hand vaguely toward the club entrance. “Or somewhere. I don’t know. I came out to get some air.”

Max sighed, scanning the area for any sign of your group. Just then a few of your friends emerged from the club giggling.

“Max!” One of them called her tone far too cheery. “She’s all yours.”

Max’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling over. “Why did you let her get this drunk?” he snapped. “Anything could’ve happened to her out here!”

Your friend blinked, her smile faltering. “She’s a big girl Max. Besides, we knew you’d come.”

“That’s not the point,” Max said, his voice sharp. "You should’ve made sure she was safe.”

Your friends exchanged glances mumbling something, he exhaled heavily running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m glad you've all had fun, but next time just… watch out for her yeah? She’s very important to me.” He gazed down at you.

Your friends exchanged glances, some looking sheepish, others visibly annoyed at his tone.

“We had it under control, Max,” one of your friends said, her tone defensive. “We weren’t going to babysit her all night.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Being there for your friend isn’t babysitting, it’s just what you do.”

Another friend, the quieter one of the group spoke up “Okay Max. We’ll keep a better eye on her next time, promise.”

“Thank you,” he said simply, looking back down at you. Your eyes were half-closed, a lazy smile on your lips as you mumbled something unintelligible against his chest.

Max shook his head, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his face. “Alright,” he said to the group, his tone a little lighter now. “I’m taking her home. Get back safely.”

“We will,” the quieter friend said, giving him a small, apologetic smile.

Max turned to you with a sigh of relief. “Let’s get you home.”

Max guided you to the car, his hand never leaving your waist. You leaned into him heavily, giggling at every little thing—the way his hand steadied you, the low muttering under his breath, even the way he opened the car door for you like you were royalty.

“You’re so nice to me, Maxie,” you said, settling into the passenger seat with a content sigh.

“I’m always nice to you,” he replied, pulling the seatbelt across your body and clicking it into place.

“You are,” you agreed, your voice soft and dreamy. “You’re my favourite person, you know that?”

Max froze for a moment, sure his heart skipped a beat, before he shook his head and closed your door.

The drive home was quiet, save for your occasional hums and mumbled comments about the pretty city lights. Max glanced at you every so often, his hand gripping your thigh, your eyes fluttering shut for brief moments.

When he finally pulled into his apartment’s parking garage you stirred, blinking sleepily. Inside you clung to him like a lifeline, your arms looped around his neck as he guided you to the bathroom.

“You’re so tall,” you murmured, your head resting against his chest. “Like a tree. A strong, handsome tree.”

Max chuckled despite himself, shaking his head as he set you down on the bathroom counter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway,” you said, your grin lazy and smug.

He didn’t respond, instead reaching for a makeup remover wipe from the cabinet. You watched him curiously as he carefully cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Taking your makeup off,” he said simply.

You stared at him, your expression unreadable, as he carefully wiped at your face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and he avoided your eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand.

"You take such good care of me." You whispered, reaching up to touch his hand. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said with a slight frown, his eyes finally meeting yours. “But I want to. You deserve it.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Max carried you to the bedroom, letting you climb him like a koala as you giggled into his shoulder. He set you down gently, pulling the covers over you before crouching beside the bed. You blinked at him sleepily, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re like a knight,” you mumbled, your voice thick with drowsiness. “My very own knight in shining armour.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “A very tired knight,” he replied, brushing a stray hair from your face. “But you’re going to hate me in the morning if I let you go to sleep without water and something for your hangover.”

“I don’t hate you,” you slurred, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. “I could never hate you.”

His chest tightened at the sincerity in your tone, “Stay awake for just a few more minutes okay? I’ll be right back.”

You made a soft noise of protest as he stood, but you didn’t try to stop him. Max moved quietly through the apartment, grabbing a glass from the kitchen and filling it with cold water. From the bathroom he grabbed a pack of paracetamol, the domesticity of the routine bringing a faint smile to his lips.

When he returned you were still half-propped against the pillows, your eyes fluttering open at the sound of his footsteps.

“Here,” Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He handed you the glass and pressed two pills into your palm. “Take these and drink some water. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

You squinted at the pills like they’d personally offended you. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Max replied firmly, his lips quirking upward. “No arguments.”

“Bossy,” you muttered, but you popped the pills into your mouth and swallowed them with some water. “Happy now?”

“Very.”

You handed the glass back to him, and he set it on the nightstand before leaning forward to pull the blankets higher around you.

“I’m so lucky you’re my Maxie,” you sighed.

“Sleep,” he said softly, stroking your cheek.

“Stay,” you murmured, your eyes already half-closed.

Max hesitated, his heart twisting with adoration, before nodding. “I’ll be right here.”

[jaylalolz]

hi! can i request more jealous/possessive nicholas? perhaps with some making up?🥹

ty!!!

❛ 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

SUMMARY, Nicholas and his girlfriend get into a heated argument after he ignores her all night while out with friends, leading her to turn off her location and go out.

A/N, thanks for requesting!! hope u like it

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas knew he had messed up the second he walked through the door. His phone had been blowing up with unread messages, but he had ignored them—too caught up in the chaos of the night with his friends. She was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at him like she had been waiting for this confrontation all night.

“You couldn’t send one text?” she snapped as soon as he stepped inside, her voice sharp. “Not one?”

Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I told you I was going out with the guys. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you disappeared! You didn’t answer my calls, didn’t respond to any of my texts. Do you know how that looks? Like you couldn’t care less.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and Nicholas could feel his own frustration rising.

“I was just out having a good time. Why are you blowing this up into something bigger than it is?”

“Because you don’t get it!” She stood up, her voice getting louder. “You always do this. You vanish with your friends and act like I don’t exist for the whole night. It’s like I’m not even on your radar when you’re with them.”

Nicholas clenched his fists, feeling cornered. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… didn’t think it was that big of a deal to be off my phone for a few hours.”

“A few hours? Nicholas, it was the entire night! I was worried about you!”

She turned away, grabbing her bag and phone from the counter. Nicholas could see her fingers tapping at her screen, and his stomach twisted when he realized what she was doing.

“Seriously?” he asked, watching as she turned off her location. “You’re pulling this again?”

“If you can’t bother to text me back, then you don’t get to know where I am,” she said coolly, her eyes daring him to say something. Without another word, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving him standing there, frustrated and angry.

Hours passed, and Nicholas was left stewing, replaying the argument over and over. She had every right to be pissed, but the way she just shut him out like that, like he didn’t matter… it made his blood boil. He picked up his phone to check if she’d cooled off yet, but instead, he saw it—a new Instagram story.

She was at the club. Smiling. Laughing. And there, standing next to her, was some guy.

Nicholas’s heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He knew where she was. He wasn’t about to sit there while some random guy made her laugh like nothing had happened.

When he got to the club, it didn’t take long to spot her. She was leaning against the bar, talking to the same guy from her story. Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. She was doing this on purpose. She knew he’d see it, knew it would set him off.

Without a second thought, Nicholas pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked on her. He reached her in a few quick strides, his hand gripping her arm, pulling her away from the guy before either of them knew what was happening.

“Nick, what the hell?” she protested, but he didn’t stop. He dragged her through the crowd, ignoring her complaints until they were outside in the humid night air. He didn’t let go until they reached his car, opening the passenger door with more force than necessary.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She hesitated, eyes flashing with defiance, but she got into the car, slamming the door behind her. Nicholas got in on the driver’s side, gripping the steering wheel to calm the storm inside him before turning to face her.

“You think that was funny?” he growled, his voice barely controlled. “Turning off your location and posting that story, letting me see you with him?”

She glared at him, her arms crossed. “Maybe now you know how it feels when you disappear on me for a whole night.”

“That’s what this is about? Payback?” His voice rose, his anger spilling over. “I was out with my friends, but you—what? You run off to the club, posting stories, talking to random guys just to piss me off?”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off, Nicholas,” she shot back, her voice sharp. “But maybe I wanted you to notice. Maybe I wanted you to feel what I felt when you ignored me all night.”

“Well, congratulations. You got my attention,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes dark with frustration. “I don’t like seeing you with other guys.”

“Maybe if you actually paid attention to me, I wouldn’t have to find someone else to talk to.”

Nicholas’s temper flared, and without thinking, he reached out, pulling her closer, his grip firm but not rough. “You don’t need anyone else,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “I don’t want you talking to anyone but me.”

Her breath hitched, their faces inches apart now, the tension between them thick and charged. She tried to stay angry, but there was something about the way he was looking at her, the raw intensity in his eyes, that made her pulse quicken.

“You don’t get to ignore me and then act like you own me,” she said, her voice faltering slightly, though the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“I do own you,” Nicholas growled, his hand still gripping her waist. “You’re mine.”

For a moment, the air between them was heavy with everything they hadn’t said. The anger, the frustration, the possessiveness—it all tangled together in the space between their heated breaths.

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Nicholas’s lips crashed against hers, silencing whatever protest was about to leave her mouth. She resisted for half a second, but then she gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same fire.

The kiss was rough, desperate, fueled by all the emotions they had been keeping bottled up. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, they were both breathing hard, the anger between them replaced by something rawer, something deeper.

“I hate it when you shut me out,” Nicholas murmured, his voice softer now, though still laced with possessiveness. “I hate it when you go to someone else.”

“I only do it because I’m scared you don’t care,” she whispered, her fingers brushing his jaw, softer than before.

“I care,” he said firmly. “More than you know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing as they held each other. Eventually, she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want anyone else but you,” she admitted softly.

Nicholas pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Good. Because you’re mine.”

They stayed like that for a while, their earlier argument forgotten, replaced by the certainty that, no matter how much they fought, they always found their way back to each other.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

“And it’s an emergency?” Bruce asked her, brow furrowing in concern.

Dani tapped her foot. “Yes. I need to leave now.”

Bruce sighed. “I’ll contact our pilot, but I can’t guarantee that he be able to fly you to Illinois last minute.”

Dani smiled weakly, “Thanks Bruce.” She said as she walked out the door, running into Damian.

“Where are you going?” He demanded, Jerry the Turkey trailing behind him.

“There’s a family emergency I need to go to.” Dani explained, ruffling his hair, grinning when he squwaked and hit her hand away.

“When will you return?”

Dani hesitated, smiling fading, before she looked in Damian’s eye and forced a grin.

“That depends. But I’ll be back, you don’t need to worry.”

The study door opened, and Bruce poked his head out, phone in hand. “Dani, the plane will be ready right after dinner at the soonest. Where exactly are you going?”

“Amity Park, Illinois.”

~

Danielle’s ‘minor family emergency’ was a huge lie.

Damian saw her smile dim and her hands shake as she told him she would be back.

Danielle was in danger, he didn’t need Leauge training to be able to tell.

That dinner, Danielle’s suitcase and bag was right next to her chair as she ate, looking very distracted.

“Woah!” Duke yelped as he tripped over the bag, stabilizing himself on the wall. “What’s the bag for?”

“Sorry, I’m going to Illinois after dinner. Family emergency.” Dani sheepishly, kicked the bag under the table and out of the way, smiling apologetically at Duke.

“Family emergency? But I thought…” Duke trailed off awkwardly. He didn’t need to finish his sentence for everyone to know what he trying to say.

Dani shrugged but didn’t give them an answer.

Duke, Damian’s nd Bruce locked eyes with each other and shared a minuscule nod. They would be investigating in the cave that night.

“Ok, I’m heading out!” Dani said, giving each of them a hug that lasted longer than usual, as if she was leaving for the last time.

~

Dani’s flight was around 2 hours, and the only sound that was in The luxury cabin was the sound of her foot tapping.

She apologized to the pilot for the last minute notice, but he waved her off with a smile. Dani tipped him a couple hundred anyway.

The airfield was pretty far, so Dani called an ride to pick her up.

While she waited, she checked Danny’s message from this morning.

Prototype: Dani we need you in Amity

Protoype: The GIW are acting funny

“Tt. When is the car arriving?”

Dani froze, whipping her head around to see Damian holding a duffel bag and staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh-what? Damian?” Dani stammered in surprise, before she got angry. “Damian Thomas Wayne, why and how the hell are you here?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I snuck on the plane and followed you, of course.”

Dani’s eye twitched and Damian got the feeling that this was a bad idea.

There was a long silence before Dani dragged him to the wall and whispered to him, “Damian, I have a reason for you guys not to come. A good reason. So you need to get a plane back to Gotham before it’s too late.”

Damian shook his head. “The pilots gone. And it is too late to catch another flight.”

Dani groaned, but was interrupted by her phone vibrating in her pocket.

She pulled it out and cursed as she read the message.

Dr.Jazz: Dani the GIW is closing down airports

Dr.Jazz: Nobody can get out or in

Dr.Jazz: are you here yet?

Fenton 2.0: I’m here

Fenton 2.0: with an unexpected guest

Her phone binged again, and she snapped her fingers to get Damian’s attention away from his phone- which he had pulled out when Jazz messaged her.

“Our ride is here.” She said curtly, picking up her bags and walking outside the terminal.

Dash Baxter was leaning against his car, searching the crowd. He caught sight of Dani and Damian, giving the younger girl a nod and the tween a raised eyebrow.

“You guys are lucky you got here when you did. The guys in white just closed everything down.” Dash said as he loaded their luggage into the back of his car.

Dani opened the backseat door and let Damian climb in before sitting down after him.

“What’s going on, Dash? Danny hasn’t been replying to my messages and Jazz is being extremely vague.”

Dash started the car and pulled into the freeway.

“Can’t go into detail. Too many cameras. We’re probably being followed.” Dash looked at Damon through the rewrite mirror. “Whos the tyke?”

“Damian. Damian Wayne.” Damian said as he wrinkled his nose.

“Dash Baxter. How’d you get caught up with the Waynes, Dani?”

“Bruce is fostering me. We just haven’t made an official announcement yet.”

Dash let out a whistle. “Nice. I won’t be able to drop you at the FentonWorks Lab, but Star and Paulina wanted to talk to you out anyway.”

Dash pulled into the park, and helped Dani and Damian with their bags before driving off.

There were GIW agents setting up cameras all around the park, in trees, lamp post, and they were even shoving warrants in the faces of home owners and setting cameras on their property.

Around 2/3 of the town was in the park, watching the GIW and talking in hushed tones. They all turned to stare at Dani and Damian as they walked through.

“Why are they stareing at you?” Damian asked, glaring at a boy his age, who squeaked and sprinted away.

“Because my family is rather well known.” Dani glanced at Damian. “And I have a Wayne with me.”

“Dani.”

They turned around to see two girls, one Latina dressed in pink and one blonde with large blue eyes.

“Paulina. Star. How’ve you been?” Dani smiled at them.

Star smiled at her, but it wasn’t real and plastic looking.

“I’m doing great. A little ghosty told me that the Fentons are waiting for you and Damian at the FentonWorks Lab.” Star eyed Damian with a curious eye and peered at Dani through her lashes.

“Don’t you think it’ll be to dangerous for the kid?” Paulina asked, ignoring the way Damian bristled at being called a kid.

Dani’s eye sharperned as she places a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “We have no choice. The GIW closed down the airport. He’ll have to learn how to survive.”

The girls faltered.

“W-what? But my dad is in New York! He..” Paulina stammered, and Star was at her side in a second, comforting her.

Dani and Damian walked away, Danis hand still on his shoulder.

They walked for some time in silence, until Dani stopped them and pointed at a GIW agent.

“Wanna help?” At Damian’s nod she smirked and continued. “Let’s put your training to good use. What do you think they’re doing?”

“You knew?” Damian asked her.

“You guys aren’t the only vigilantes in my family.”

Damian nodded and turned away from her, observing the agents in white.

“They’re setting up cameras. And cold sensors.”

Dani’s lips twisted into a small smile. “The GIW are officially called the Ghost Investigation Ward, but we call them the Guys in White.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there were other ghosts.”

Dani’s eyes flashed green as she grinned.

“Well, Damian, you have a lot to learn. But yes, there are other ghosts.”

Damain nodeded and glanced back toward the Agents.

“Tt. If they investigate ghosts, why are they barricading the town?”

Dani’s face darkened and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Damian, there’s a lot I don’t know. But I can tell you this:”

She whispered her next few words.

“It’s about to go from bad to worse. Brace yourself.”

[landoughnut]

Dream Girl

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - lando norris x fem!reader

♡ summary - when being interviewed, the conversation gets on the topic of you, lando's long term obsession crush, never in a million years did he think you would actually notice him

♡ warnings - obsessed/simp lando

♡ w/c & a/n - 0.85k | I hope you all are doing good! as usual send any requests xoxo

"Good afternoon, Lando! We're happy to have you here with us today," the interviewer smiles, sat across from the driver.

"Great to be here," he nods, putting his hands on his lap and leaning back into the chair, "Wow, nice chairs you've got here."

The interviewer laughs, "Glad you approve of them. So, let's get started with the questions, shall we?" Lando nods and the lady clears her throat, "First off, when racing at the high speeds you do, what are some things you're thinking about? Or maybe I should say, a someone?"

Let's rewind. If there was one thing, besides being a Formula 1 driver, that everyone knew Lando Norris for, it was having the world's most massive crush on you. In fact, pretty much everyone was aware of this; except for you.

You wouldn't call yourself oblivious, per se. You just weren't really one to be online, so you never saw all the drama surrounding Lando's infatuation with you.

He has been enamored with you for about three years now, and he made it everyone's problem. From liking instagram updates of you, to commenting on pictures and videos of you, to even reposting edits of you. His friends must have sat through hours and hours of hearing him just speak about your beauty and personality.

His friends teased him about it quite often, though he was never really embarrassed over it. He truly just found everything about you beautiful, you were his dream girl, everything he'd ever want in a woman.

"Well, uh, I think about, you know, winning. Also what I'm going to eat after, and uh.. my girl," he nods with a slight grin.

The interviewer raises her eyebrows, "I wasn't informed you finally got a girlfriend," she says, surprised.

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. She's not my girlfriend... yet. Although I'm not even sure if she knows that I exist, but I'm working on it."

"Ah, I should have known," the lady smiles at his flustered state, "I wish you luck with that. Now I believe we should move onto the more important questions, before I get in trouble," she taps on her clipboard.

The rest of the interview seemed like forever for Lando, now that he was thinking about you again, as he usually is.

You're in your bed, watching one of your favorite shows, How I Met Your Mother, when your phone starts to blow up with your friends messaging you and sending you a link to a YouTube video of some F1 interview.

You open the video is none other than the very cute, Lando Norris. Of course you knew who he was, you kept up with Formula 1 on your free time and enjoyed watching the races.

As the video is playing through, you open the comments and your eye go wide at everyone saying your name and commenting on how hot of a couple you two would make. You furrow your eyebrows at some comments talking about how devoted to you he must be for liking you for several years without a single interaction.

You continue to watch the video and your cheeks turn pink as he talks about, well you. You couldn't believe that he liked you like that, surely you were well-known, and you weren't too bad looking, but one of the best current racers in the world crushing on you?

After the video ended you messaged your best friend back, asking what you should do. She, of course, told you to message him on instagram.

You thought over the idea for a bit, before nervously clicking on his account and following him back before beginning to type.

Lando was hanging out with Oscar around the garage when he hears his phone ping with a notification. He glances at it and turns his phone off again before doing a double check to make sure he saw it right. You had followed him.

"OSCAR," he yells and turns to his friend, holding the phone in his face, "SHE FOLLOWED ME, LOOK," he waves the phone.

Oscars jaw drops, never did he see this day coming, "Wow! Mate, thats fantastic, and look! It seems like she just sent you a message!"

"What? I might faint, Oscar," the boys hands shake with excitement and nerves as he clicks on your message. "Hi! I saw your interview, and I must say, I'm truly flattered," Lando reads as his face turns dark pink, he didn't think you'd see it, guess he was wrong.

Oscar starts laughing, "Text her back!"

"I don't know what to say, I've never spoken to her in my life," he panics.

"Mate, she saw you call her your girl, it's a bit too late to be nervous," Oscar smiles, patting his friend's pack. Lando chews his lip and writes back, heart pounding.

After a few messages were exchanged and an anticipated Oscar waiting for an update clears his throat, Lando looks up from the phone with the brightest smile Oscar has ever seen on him, "Guess who scored himself a date with his future wife this Saturday?"

[peanutpinet]

Under My Care - Sylus x Innocent Fem Reader

Random Blurb Idea: When Sylus was taking his innocent, clueless girlfriend out for a date only to be interrupted by his business partners who just happened to be at the bar Sylus owned in Linkon

Prompt Sentence: No, it’s alright, come here

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

When I mentioned “innocent”, it’s more so clueless and not really understanding the danger of the world type and not so much in a negative form like being “dumb” or anything like that.

Also I’d like to mention that I don’t know what currency they use in the game but assuming since the game is from China, I’ll be using Chinese money aka Chinese Yuan

And I want to point out the reader (aka you) is not the MC (Miss Hunter)

Warnings: fluff, slightly aggressive Sylus (not towards you, his men lmao), possessive and protective Slyus (not in a bad way), cursing and sexual names (not from Sylus)

“Luke, Kieran, see it that all schedule for the day is cleared out” Sylus mentioned, putting on his coat over his sweater

“Right away boss!” both Luke and Kieran exclaimed as Mephisto eyed the situation from the window. “Are you visiting her?” Luke asked, making Sylus chuckle

“Yes. And I hope that I won’t be disturbed by anything. I trust you both will take care of everything until I come back later on” Sylus mentioned and the twins hummed, taking notice how their boss looked much more appealing and approachable in his outfit compared to his regular attire in the N109 zone.

Once he finished getting ready, Sylus went to use one of his most lavish car instead of his motorcycle to blend in with the people in Linkon and to not draw much attention.

It was a short trip and right before noon, Sylus had already parked his car in front of your house, waiting for you as he leaned on his car, ignoring all the passerby who were shocked to see such a tall muscular yet lavish man in a regular neighbourhood.

“You’re here already?!” Sylus immediately looked up to see you standing by the door, you had already done your makeup and hair but was still in your loungewear.

A smirk went onto his face as Sylus walked up towards your door and greeted you with a kiss on your forehead. “I thought I’d come earlier so I can enjoy moments like this with you. Will you let me in?”

You nodded and opened the door, letting your tall scary looking boyfriend into the cozy small home you have. “Do you want something to eat while I change?”

Shaking his head, Sylus opted to just sit by the couch. “I’m alright, sweetie. I had something before coming here. You go on and change then. Take your time. I can wait”

You nodded and peck your boyfriend’s cheek before walking back up to your room and finished getting change while Sylus was mindlessly scrolling his phone; ignoring all the incoming messages from business colleagues both in the N109 zone and in Linkon but Sylus could care less about all of them.

Today was about you and him. He won’t let anything get in the way of a whole day ahead of him spending time with you. His loving, caring, adorable girlfriend.

“Sylus, I’m done!! Let’s go!!” you exclaimed as Sylus put his phone away and smiled when he saw you jogging down the stairs wearing a simple white sweater, long flowy skirt, the branded shoulder bag Sylus gifted, and oxford shoes.

“Shall we, sweetie?” Sylus extended his arm as you latched onto it, giggling, making Sylus smile

Sylus then led you to his car, being the gentlemen he is, he opened the door for you, closed it. He even put on your seatbelt as he settled in the driver's seat.

The whole day, Sylus took you to places you want to go. Sylus knew your wishlist as your shopping account is linked to his phone. Several new books just released? Sylus would bring you to the bookstore, pay for it, and take it out of the shop. Don’t want to bother flipping the pages? Sylus bought a tablet and downloaded every book you’ve owned and on your TBR.

You wanted to try a new cafe? Sylus wouldn’t hesitate to bring you no matter how far it was at the moment. He would go as far as to look up the recommendations and order practically everything on the menu much to your complaint. You’re too full? He’ll pack it to go for you. You want to have dessert almost immediately? Sylus would tease you before giving in to your wants.

You wanted to go around the mall, play the claw machines, kitty cards, go to the arcade? He’ll do it all. You want to buy new makeup and clothes? Anything you see or touch, Sylus instantly gets it without caring about your whining about it being expensive.

The whole entire day, Sylus is practically your sugar daddy. Anything you want, anywhere you want to go, he’ll do it all for you. He even carried all the plush and things he bought for you despite your complaints about everything being expensive or too heavy.

Sylus didn’t once complain about anything and just smiled at your secretly sparkly eyes when he paid for your wishlist items. By the end of the night, Sylus decided to bring you to one of your wishlist restaurants which just happens to be the restaurant that he owns in Linkon.

Once you both entered the restaurant, Sylus confidently brought the two of you towards the front of the waiting line, ignoring all the stares that where directed towards the two of you until the waiter at the front realised who had just come and immediately, the manager of the restaurant immediately came to greet Sylus and it was then did everyone realised that Sylus was the owner of the restaurant.

Sylus held your waist tightly as he brought you with him, following the manager who led the two of you to the exclusive VIP room which confused you but made Sylus smirk with pride. “Just a little something I pull for you today. But you’re welcome to come here whenever you want”

Sylus helped you sit down as the waiter came and asked Sylus for his usual order but this time Sylus just told the waiter, “It’s up to the lady tonight. I’ll have anything she orders and make sure that it reaches the minimum spending”

You looked in shock when Sylus said there was a minimum spending and Sylus chuckled at your shocked expression. “Don’t worry sweetie. You won’t know the exact number. Only I do. But I’ll give you a hint. You have to order at least an equivalent of 5 tomahawk steaks”

You looked at Sylus as if he was crazy but you tried to order several menus that you thought weren’t as expensive. Sylus chuckled at the several orders you made and asked the waiter to bring it out as soon as possible.

Once the food and drinks came out, Sylus had you try everything first and let him know your opinion about the food before eating them himself. As the night goes on, the two of you continued eating together, occasionally talking and updating about each other’s life. Sylus was sipping on his wine while you were drinking your fresh lemon tea. Though the two of you are a contrast to one another, neither of you mind. In fact, both of you enjoyed the contrast and see it as complementing each other.

Sometime when dessert was just about to come, you decided to excuse yourself to the restroom, saying how you were quite full to the point your stomach had to lose some of the food you just ate to save room for dessert.

“Alright, sweetie. Don’t take too long. Your dessert will melt later” Sylus teased as you stuck your tongue out as a reply, making Sylus chuckle at your slightly childish behavior

In the midst of waiting for you, Sylus felt another presence and the door to his private VIP room was opened to reveal some of his business partners barging into his private room where he was waiting for you, his beloved.

The bouncer who tried to stop the men came in went to Sylus. “I apologise sir, I tried my best to keep them away but they threatened and…” Sylus raised his hand indicating the bouncer to stop talking. “Leave us”

The bouncer immediately nodded and left the room while Sylus’ business “partners” were standing across him. “Tell me what updates you have or shall I put a bullet in your tongue for every miscellaneous reason for coming here, into my private dining area and disturbing my dinner”

Sylus felt his men were lucky for they provided him with some useful information regarding the updates of his businesses however some were testing his patience and got on his nerves when they were asking if they were going to get paid more or if there were going to be a promotion to be part of his field men. Sylus was ready to end the conversation when there was a soft knock on the door and the bouncer opened it with you peeking in.

“I’m sorry, am I disturbing your sudden meeting?” you asked in a soft tone and before Sylus could answer, one of his men decided to try and act all tough, not knowing you were Sylus’ beloved girlfriend

“Yes you are, you slut. Can’t you see that Sylus doesn’t have time to deal with you attention-seeking girls?” one of the men scoffed as the others were agreeing but also looking at you as if you were a treat

Hearing the comments and stares, you felt small and somehow, tears were building up in your eyes. “I, I’m sorry. I, I’ll go…” you stuttered until Sylus’ strong voice echoed the room

“No, it’s alright, come here sweetie” Sylus reassured you and even motioned you to come back into the room where he used his evol to pull a chair next to him

You were still unsure and fidgeted with your fingers. It didn’t help that the men in the room were still eyeing you but Sylus made his statement loud and clear. “Stop fucking looking at her as if she’s a piece of meat or I’ll gauge your eyes out one at a time”

Though the statement was meant for his men, you can’t help but be scared of Sylus’ loud and commanding voice which he never uses when he’s with you. Once his men looked down, Sylus took it as his chance to use his evol and gently dragged you so that you were now on his lap.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice with you in the room, sweetheart. Are you alright?” Sylus asked, his hold around your waist was gentle and loving; contrasting to his voice and actions towards his men who were shivering at Sylus’ commanding tone

You were still shaken up at what happened but tried to tell Sylus how you felt. “I, I thought I came into the wrong room…”

Sylus shook his head and brought one of his hands to your cheek, gently brushing your hair back. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetie. They came here unnoticed even though…” Sylus looked at his men, gently pushing your head to his chest, ensuring your vision was not towards his men. “I’ve made it fucking clear that no one is to disturb me today”

Sylus leaned back on his chair with you in his arms as he slowly lulled you to sleep. His touch might be gentle but his eyes were ready to kill anyone who so much looked at you the wrong way. “Not only did you all carelessly walk through that door and interrupt my day off but you all just had to eye my beloved as if she was some kind of girl you can pay your way. In addition to that, you dared to call her by an absurd name? Looks like you all need some lesson about respect because no one” Sylus’ hold on you looks more possessive but caring at the same time

“No fucking one, eyes, touches, or even talks about my beloved in a disgusting, animalistic way and gets away with it. She is my lover and specifically under my care. And I’d be dammed to let anyone who mistreats her in any way shape or form get away with it without some kind of lesson”

A/N: I have a confession. I have been trying out c.ai and honestly, it gives me some story ideas for Sylus but I'm not sure if anyone will be interested. I read on Tumblr someone mentioned what if the MC is the 'I don't believe in love anymore' type of girl and Sylus is the 'I can show you what real love is' and I'm just like T^T gosh, that would be so me. Anyways, just a lil fic I decided to pull up before I slowly descend back to the real world since I've been busy :')

If anyone would like to request me anything of Sylus or LADS, do send me a request and I will try to get to it. Otherwise, I hope this fic brightens up your day and take care xoxo peanutwott

[amaranthineghost]

hi! could u write a fic where lando and the reader were fucking and lando takes his phone out halfway through (to take a photo for himself) but accidentally gets it posted on his instagram story and they only find out in the morning idk i just thought this would be funny af

OOPS? ( lando norris. )

lando norris x reader

to commemorate the sight in front of him, he snaps a picture on his phone without realizing he's just posted it for millions to see.

warnings: smut

authors note: I really liked writing this!!! it's a bit shorter than usual, but I enjoyed it a lot so thanks anon!!! <333

HE DIDN'T KNOW HOW HE DID IT. maybe he was just in the haze of sex, buried deep in her cunt with her leg over his shoulder, her other around his lower back pulling him in further.

he was hovering over her, hand pressed against her mouth as strings of muffled moans spilled from her lips, warm tears against his skin. god, she looked so good, too good. he just wanted to remember how fucked out her expression was.

leaning over to the nightstand, slowing his thrusts ever so much as he clutched his phone, flash on to compensate for the darkness of the bedroom. he snapped the photo, throwing the phone to the side, face side up.

he turned his focus back to the messy masterpiece in front of him, returning to the pace he had set before.

he pulled his hand away from her mouth to hear her symphony of moans, music to his ears. his hand took its place on her neck.

lando norris has posted to his story

he was so lost in the moment, he should've realized sooner the mistake he made. he should've realized at the instant texts that lit up his screen because who would be texting him this late?

all he did was flip over the phone, ignoring whatever notified him as he pulled her leg off his shoulder, pushed her leg down from his back. he fell beside her, prompting her to crawl across him, straddling him weakly as his hands settled on her hips.

fuck, she looked so good from this angle. hair messy from the pillows, face red from the tears down her cheeks, but also flushed from how hard he fucked her. he had already coaxed one orgasm ouf of her.

she sank down on his cock, causing him to curse under his breath with praise, “fuck, such a good girl.” his hands clawed into the flesh of her hips, guiding her pace once he saw her struggle.

the view was immaculate, he could've came at the sight of her tits bouncing up and down as she slid on his cock alone. it was salivating.

his hands left her hips to grasp her breasts, and he couldn't care if her pace faltered because everything felt too good in the moment.

if only they knew.

he planted his feet firmly against the bed, grasping her sides again as he lifted his hips to meet her halfway. it was rough, causing her to steady herself with her hands against his chest as he thrusted up and forced her hips down. his cock buried deep in her brought her over the edge so easily as tears fell from her face onto the bare skin of his chest.

she collapsed against his chest as his cock sank into her, feeling the warmth of his seed inside her cunt. she groaned against his chest as his arm spread across her bare back and pressed a kiss to her hair. the tears from her face wet his skin.

“did so good, baby,” he cooed, running fingers across her flesh as she hummed into his chest.

they laid together for a while before going and cleaning up. since it was already late in the night, they got back into bed and fell asleep.

when lando awoke the next morning, his phone was nearly dead and hundreds of texts and missed calls from his friends was the cause. hot to the touch, he carefully held his phone, brows furrowed as he laid on his side, back to his girlfriend, who was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed.

first, he opened the texts from his friend, max, who’s messages were in all caps. his eyes widened at the content, squinting at the screen in disbelief. no way he was that stupid, no the photo he took was in his camera roll—no it wasn't.

he discovered that, unfortunately, the photo he had taken was posted to his Instagram story, and it hadn't been taken down.

if it weren't for the circumstances, he could've stared at the photo all day because it was truly that good, but first he had to get rid of the post—and get the photo into his camera roll.

he nearly jumped out of his skin when she stirred in her sleep, now right against his back with her cheek pressed to his bare skin.

“morning,” she groaned and he mumbled back. she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, squinting to see what was on his phone screen, “why’re you on your phone so early?”

“i'm sorry.” he gulped, turning his head to watch the expression knot on her face, mostly confusion.

she sat up, leaning on her arm as she practically hovered over him, “lando, what did you do?”

“i’m so sorry,” was all he could say.

“lando,” she paused, an underlying tone of irritation laced in her voice as she emphasized her words, “what did you do?”

he glanced back at his phone, not even trying to hide the guilty expression written all over his face. she snatched the phone from his hand, and he didn't stop her. he covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes before leaving them to cover the lower half of his face as he watched her face.

“what the fuck?” she shoved his shoulder.

“i didn't mean to!” he sat up, throwing his hands up before running them through his messy curls, “i don't know how i did it.”

“oh my god,”she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as she hunched over the phone, “i’m deleting it.”

“wait–” his hand touched hers, he bit his lip, “at least save it to my photos–ow!”

she hit the backside of his head at the idiocy of his words. she exhaled deeply, anger taking over her body. of course, he didn't care as much as she did. he wasn't in the photo at all to begin with and this wouldn't affect his career as deeply as it would affect hers.

“why? so you can post it somewhere else? text it to your friends?” she raised her voice, groaning out in frustration.

“baby, calm down–” he tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.

“how can i calm down, lando?” she threw his phone down on the bedding, falling back down onto the bed with her hands covering her face in shame. now that picture is all everyone will ever see her as, all thanks to her idiot of a boyfriend.

he grabbed his phone back, seeing the photo had been taken down from his story, but they both knew that image would be circling the internet for a long time.

“at least the photo didn't show anything,” he tried to make light of the situation, but it was to no avail as she spat back with venom in her tone.

“you don't even care about the photo because you aren't the one in it, lando.” she scoffed.

“i’m sorry, okay?” he turned to her, “i really didn't mean to, you know i would never do that.”

she sighed, “i know, but i’m still mad, lan.”

“i know, darling,” he laid beside her on his side, looking at her side profile as she stared at the ceiling, “you have every right to be mad.”

she stayed silent, and he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.

he gulped again, speaking up, “and i promise to never take a photo of you when we're fucking ever again.”

a laugh forced it's way past her lips, “oh, please we both know you'll try and fail,” she said with a smile on her lips, shaking her head.

“okay, yeah, but i promise i’ll triple check it's not in any social media post,” he flipped over onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows with his pinky held out. she took it and the promise was made. the situation dealt with, for the most part.

“did you happen to save the photo though–ow, okay!”

—

taglist (found here): @poppyflower-22 @sapphiccloud @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[starkwlkr]

girl, so confusing part ii | f1

an: thanks for all the love and support on part 1! here’s part 2 💋 THIS IS AN AU WHERE ALL THE F1 DILFS ARE SINGLE

part 1 part 3

faceclaim: gisele bündchen

DINNER WITH MARK

“How is my girl?” Mark asked as he placed his beer on the table after taking a sip.

“She’s good. She passed her math test and her recital is coming up so she’s very excited for that.” Y/n replied. She always loved talking about her daughter, Gemma.

“Will you let me know when it is? I want to make sure I’m free that day.” Mark said.

“Sure, she’ll love that you’re there.” The former driver reached into her purse and pulled out her lipgloss. It had been the same brand and scent from the same day she had kissed Mark in her garage, Mark took notice of that. She began applying it easily using her front camera as a mirror.

“You and your cherry lipgloss.” Mark chuckled.

“I don’t see you complaining whenever these lips give you kisses.” Y/n smirked, placing the tube of lipgloss back in her purse.

“They are the best kisses I’ve ever had.” Mark told her.

“Funny, Jenson and Seb told me the same thing.”

“Such a comedian,” Mark playfully rolled his eyes at her response. “What are you doing tomorrow? Let me take you and Gem out. She mentioned she wanted to go roller skating.”

“Sorry, Mark, Jenson is coming over. Gemma wants to bake him a cake for his birthday. You’re welcome to join us, Gem and Jenson won’t mind.” Y/n apologized. It had been weeks since Gemma saw Jenson and she missed him dearly.

Mark shook his head, not wanting to interfere between Gemma and Jenson. “It’s alright. Just let me know when her recital is.”

“Yeah . . .” Y/n noticed how quiet Mark had gotten so she leaned over the table and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. As she sat back down in her chair, a text message from a blonde German had appeared on her phone screen.

Sebastian

When can I see you and Gemma again?

[dreamescapeswriting]

Exposed ~ BC

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.4

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Chan x reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationship, angst, soft ending, chan being protective boyfriend, your relationship is leaked,

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

It started off like any other day. Everything felt normal when you woke up, you and Chan had kissed goodbye like you did every single day before work and everything had been as it should have.

The usual hum of the office buzzed around you, and you sat at your desk with a smile, still laughing with your colleagues about a ridiculous moment that happened during the morning meeting.

“I can’t believe he actually said that,” you chuckled, glancing at your friend across the desk. You couldn't believe one of the interns had taken over the meeting after your boss had left, acting as though he'd know exactly what he was talking about... newsflash...he didn't.

“Does he even know what ‘synergy’ means?” you giggled a little and your friend, Sarah, shook her head, trying to keep her laughter under control.

“He’s just throwing words around to sound smart. I thought we were all going to lose it when he started talking about optimizing our optimized optimizations.” The two of you burst into laughter again, drawing curious glances from the people nearby, glares soon followed and you rolled your eyes. It was one of those lighthearted mornings—work felt manageable, and the little stresses of life were nowhere to be found.

Even your secret life with Chan didn’t feel overwhelming today, sometimes it felt hard to hide that part of your life from everyone you knew at work. But for nearly four years, you had both kept your relationship perfectly hidden, enjoying your time together away from prying eyes. You didn't care that you had to hide it, you understood why since life with an idol wasn't going to be all it was made out to be in the fanfictions you sometimes found yourself reading.

"Poor thing, maybe we should invite him to lunch though, just so we don't make him feel isolated," you told her as she nodded along with you. The last thing you wanted was to be mean to someone who clearly was trying his best here.

Soon the laughter died down, and you leaned back in your chair, reaching for your coffee. It was still warm—just the way you liked it. Everything felt routine. Normal.

But normal didn’t last.

Your phone, sitting innocuously beside your keyboard, buzzed once. Then again. And again. It wasn't like you to get so many notifications unless your friend was off from work and spammed you with reels so you bit down on your lip. You weren't exactly allowed your phone out so you glanced at it briefly, expecting a couple of messages from Chan or maybe a group chat blowing up. But the notifications were relentless.

Your brow furrowed as you picked up the phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the flood of messages—dozens of notifications on social media, texts from unknown numbers, and even missed calls. Confusion turned to panic as you scrolled through the chaos, trying to make sense of it all.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, noticing the sudden change in your expression. Before you could answer, another notification popped up on your screen—a tagged post from one of Chan’s members. Your stomach dropped as you read the caption:

CHANGBIN(jutdwae): "Congratulations on four years! You two deserve all the happiness."

You blinked, reading it again to make sure you weren’t imagining things. Not only was there the captain and tag of your Instagram there were countless images of you and Chan together.

No, this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a mistake. But the fans knew. They had pieced it together. The relationship you had kept under wraps for years was now out there for the world to see.

Your phone was going insane and there was no way you were going to be able to get into contact with Chan at this rate so you slid the phone into DND mode.

“I—uh, I have to go,” you mumbled, standing up from your desk, but your legs felt weak, your mind racing. There was no way this was happening, Changbin was usually more careful than this. What was he thinking?!

Your coworkers had started to murmur, glancing at their own phones, probably seeing the same posts and comments. Some of them gave you sympathetic looks, others were confused, staring at you to make sure that you were the person you claimed to be.

"Yn, wait." Sarah sounded panicked as she walked with you, holding your lower back as she shook her head at you,

"What's wrong-" That’s when you noticed it. Outside, through the wide office windows, a crowd had gathered. A large one. The people were holding their phones, taking pictures, pointing. You could hear the muffled sounds of their voices growing louder.

Oh no.

“Y/N, talk to me...What’s going on?” Sarah asked, standing beside you, worry etched into her features. You swallowed the lump in your throat, Sarah knew you were seeing someone you couldn't talk about...someone well-known in the media but she'd respected you when you couldn't tell her who.

“Fans,” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the window. You had no idea how you were even going to get out of there with that mess building up outside.

“They know. About me and Chan.” Sarah’s eyes widened in shock at the name. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words were drowned out by the sudden realization that the fans weren’t just outside—they were here for you and clearly weren't just going to walk away anytime soon.

Your phone rang suddenly, startling you out of your daze. It was Chan. Thanks to him being in your favourites he was the only number able to get through to you,

“Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so, so sorry. I swear we’re trying to fix this,” his voice was panicked, almost breathless. You knew his management were going to do everything that they could to make this all go away but you were still stuck,

“I’m at work, Chan,” you whispered, struggling to stay calm. You knew how crazy people seemed to be when it came to idols but you had no idea it was going to end up like this,

“There are fans outside. How do they even know where I am?” He cursed under his breath, and you could hear the tension in his voice. He said something to someone in the room before he bit down on his lap,

“Stay inside. Don’t go near them. I’m coming to get you.” He told you but you heard arguing on the other end of the line, Chan's voice raising as he yelled back at whoever was yelling at him.

"Chan..." you whispered, you already knew what he was going to say next. There was no way JYP was going to let him walk out of that building to come and save you.

“I’m at the company, but they’re not letting me leave. There’s media everywhere outside, and they won’t let me out,” he sounded helpless, something you weren’t used to hearing from him. Chan was always calm and composed, but now he was frantic, desperate to fix this. You hated that he was in this mess right now and you weren't right there to support him throughout it.

“I know you've got shit to deal with...B-But Chan, I don’t know what to do,” you admitted quietly, your hand shaking as you pressed the phone to your ear. Tears were building up in your eyes at the thought of walking outside and being mobbed...What if one of them hurt you? You were sure STAY wouldn't but there were some fans just crazy enough to try,

“It’s really bad, Chan.” You whispered as you saw people banging on the windows and screaming. There were police doing what they could to disburse the crowd but it wasn't exactly something that was just going to go away with a snap of their fingers.

You could hear him pacing on the other end, muttering to himself, trying to figure out a solution.

“I’ll call someone. I’ll get you out of there. Just... just stay away from the windows. I’ll figure this out.” At that moment, your boss appeared beside you, his expression serious as he glanced out at the growing crowd outside the building.

"Chan, my boss is here..." You kept your eyes on your boss who seemed worried about all of this,

"Baby, I promise you I'm going to fix this...T-Text me...or something, please...Please," The desperation dripping from Chan's voice made your chest tighten,

"Sure...I will, baby, I gotta go...I'll be okay."You promised before ending the phone call. Your boss straightened his tie, Jason wasn't usually known for being overly caring about his employees but right now he looked worried for you. As did a lot of other people inside of the office,

“Y/N, we need to get you out of here. Follow me,” he said softly, motioning toward a side exit. You looked back at your desk—at the normalcy you had only moments ago—and then at the chaos outside. Your heart pounded as you nodded at your boss.

Your boss led you through a hallway toward the back exit, shielding you from the chaos outside.

"Sarah is going to go outside with a hood up, she'll distract them long enough for you to make it to the car." Your boss explained as he walked with you hurriedly toward the parking lot. A lot of the focus was on the front doors as screams erupted.

When you finally reached your car and made it home you figured all of this mess would be over. That you could hold up inside of the house and forget this whole thing had happened but as you pulled up it was clear that wasn't on the agenda for the night. You froze at the sight in front of you. Your apartment was swarming with people—fans, stalkers, media. They were everywhere. Cameras were shoved in your windows as people scrambled to get the smallest information about you from them.

You couldn’t go home. Your home was overtaken by fans who luckily hadn't noticed your car yet so you started driving and with trembling fingers, you called Chan again.

“I can’t go home,” you told him as you did your best not to cry. There was no way you could drive if you were crying. Chan's silence was deafening. You knew he felt responsible, that he was desperate to fix this, but there was nothing he could do right now.

“I’m getting you a hotel, no one will know okay?” Chan finally said. You could hear him typing on his laptop and you bit down on your lip at the thought of it. You were never going to have your normal life again,

“Stay there tonight. I’ll come to you first thing in the morning, I promise.” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You trusted him—he would fix this. But for now, all you could do was hide away, waiting for the storm to pass.

"I love you, Channie." You whispered as you continued to drive aimlessly until he gave you the directions.

"I love you too, I'm going to sort this...I'm not going to let you get dragged down." He promised before sending you all of the details you were going to need.

"I've booked it under Patricia Kennedy, no one will trace it to us," He said as you smiled softly at the thought of using a fake name, like some kind of spy.

Hours had passed, and even though the hotel room was silent, your mind was anything but. The dark curtains were drawn tight, shutting out the world outside, but it didn’t stop the gnawing anxiety in your chest. You had blocked the door with a chair, even though you knew it was overkill, but after everything that had happened today, you couldn’t help it. The thought of anyone else finding you made your skin crawl.

Your phone was still on DND and didn't dare try to see if you had phone calls from friends. All you knew was that your phone was close to death thanks to it overloading with numbers. You'd managed to private all of your social media accounts and uninstalled them to stop some of the notifications, and you'd tried to call your phone provider to block unknown numbers but there was too much for them to handle.

You sat curled up on the bed, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you waited for Chan, he had called to tell you he was on his way, but time seemed to stretch, each minute dragging slower than the last. Even in the safety of the hotel, the fear refused to let go.

A knock came at the door, sharp and sudden.

Your heart jumped to your throat, and your grip tightened on the phone as you stared at the door. It was just a knock, but your body froze. What if it wasn’t him? What if someone had followed him here? What if—

“It’s me, baby. It’s Chan.” His voice came through the door, soft but certain.

“Please open the door.” You hesitated, your hand hovering over the door handle. A part of you was still scared, irrational thoughts swirling in your head. You couldn’t help it—the day had been too overwhelming, with too many eyes on you, and too much chaos.

"Yn, I promise, it’s just me. Please,” Chan’s voice was gentle but urgent, trying to calm your panic from the other side. He tapped on the door once again and you stared at the handle.

“I’m here now.” You exhaled shakily and, after a long pause, slowly removed the chair from the door and unlatched the lock. With trembling hands, you cracked the door open, just enough to peek out. The sight of Chan’s concerned face melted away some of your fear. He looked stressed and exhausted, his hair was in all kinds of directions and he looked unkept which wasn't like him at all,

“Hey,” he said softly, offering a small, reassuring smile. You stepped back and let him in, closing the door quickly behind him. As soon as the door shut, Chan’s arms were around you, pulling you into a tight, protective embrace. His familiar warmth was the only thing grounding you, and for the first time since the day started, you felt a tiny bit of safety. You hid your head in his neck and did your best not to cry, you didn't want to make him feel any worse than he already did about all of this,

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled against his chest, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know if it was you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He stroked your back softly, he would have done the same thing if he was in your position.

“You’ve had a terrible day. I’m just glad I’m here now.” He gently pulled back to take a look around the room. His eyes landed on the tightly shut curtains, the chair you had used to block the door. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see the worry etched in his face.

“You blocked the door?” he asked softly, though there was no judgment in his tone, only concern. You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck as you glanced over at him.

“I didn’t want anyone getting in.” Chan reached out, pulling you back into his arms as if he could protect you from everything. There were already plans in motion to get a guard for you, there were some stationed all over the hotel as he stood there.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he whispered. “No one’s getting in here but me. I promise.” You leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath.

“I feel like I can’t breathe. Every time I think it’s over, it’s just... not.”

“I know,” Chan said softly, rubbing gentle circles on your back. The two of you had hidden for four years, and this was something you'd talked about but nothing could have prepared you for it,

“But we’re going to fix this. I’m going to fix this. You shouldn’t have to go through this, not because of me.” You pulled back slightly to look up at him, his expression filled with guilt. You shook your head at him and touched his face softly, running your thumb along his skin.

“It’s not your fault, Chan.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. He'd already fought with Changbin about it and apologised for it, he knew that accidents happened but he'd been stressed and took it out on the younger member.

“I should’ve been more careful. We’ve kept this a secret for so long, and now—”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “This isn’t on you. It’s just... an accident. It’s no one’s fault.” Chan’s eyes softened as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right,” he promised.

“I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll protect you, okay? I’ll keep you safe.” Tears welled in your eyes, but they weren’t from fear anymore. You knew Chan would do everything within his power - and more - to protect you, you had no doubt in your mind.

“I know,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “I trust you.” Chan pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world outside. And for now, in the quiet of the hotel room, that was enough.

Days passed after the chaos of the leak, and things slowly began to settle. The initial frenzy had been overwhelming, but JYP Entertainment had stepped in, issuing a statement about the mistake, and calling for fans to respect your privacy. The company took legal action against those who crossed the line, and while the attention hadn’t completely disappeared, it was manageable now. Your numbers had been changed and you'd managed to delete most of the followers who were fans in your social media accounts.

Chan had kept his promise. He had stayed with you every step of the way, ensuring you were never left alone to deal with the aftermath. You spent a few days holed up in the hotel together, the world feeling small but safe as long as you were by his side. You mostly lived in his shirts and off room-serive which had been more fun than you'd been expecting.

One morning, you both sat on the hotel room bed, the soft glow of sunlight peeking through the curtains. The two of you were quiet, sipping on coffee, the stillness a welcome change from the chaos you had endured. It almost felt normal again.

“Are you ready to go home today?” Chan asked, glancing at you with a hopeful smile. You nodded, taking a deep breath, you'd been wanting to stay longer but only because you were enjoying being so close to him.

“Yeah. I think I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said softly.

“I know it's been a lot, but we made it through. I knew we would...” He ran his fingers over your skin softly and you smiled. You looked at him, really looked at him—his face filled with determination and love, he looked better than he did when he first arrived here. Even though things had spiralled out of control, you couldn’t imagine going through this without him by your side.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” you admitted. “You kept me sane.” Chan smiled warmly, setting his coffee cup down before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“We’re in this together, always. Nothing’s going to change that.” You squeezed his hand, feeling the truth in his words. After everything, you knew your relationship was stronger than ever. The world might have learned your secret, but it hadn’t broken what you had—it had only made you closer.

As the two of you stood, getting ready to head back home, Chan paused and turned to face you.

"I love you...okay? Them knowing, changes nothing. I promise you that we'll get into a routine," He told you as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly.

"I know baby, I love you too." You wrapped your arms around him and he backed you up toward the bed again making you giggle.

"Maybe we can spend a few more hours locked away though," He whispered in your ear.

[brenwritesss]

Talent

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: You're a singer and join KK and Paige's live for their talent show.

“Ain’t no way,” KK’s eyes widened on the screen as she started scrolling through the amount of people that wanted to be a guest on her live. “Say psych right now.”

Paige, who had been sitting next to her, partly in frame and partly not, leaned forward. “What?”

KK whipped her head towards her, “Y/n L/n's in here Paige.”

“You lyin,” Paige whispered, hand over her mouth as she put her face close to the camera trying to see your account in the live. Paige had the biggest celebrity crush on you for the longest time and everyone found out when she made a joke about treating you right when you broke up with your ex girlfriend a couple months ago. Since then, Paige’s comments were always filled with fans tagging you and yet still, you had never liked one of her videos or followed her.

“Hey girl, I see you in here. I’m tryna guest you right now,” KK said, her body starting to shake slightly as she pressed on your profile and accepted your guest request. Paige’s face went red as she realized it was actually your account. The account she stalked so many times.

Within seconds, your profile picture popped up in the live. “Hey y’all. Wait, hold on, I'm tryna turn on the camera.” A second later, your face flashed on the screen and KK started freaking out, grabbing Paige’s arm.

“Y’ALL Y/N L/N IN MY LIVE RIGHT NOW SOMEONE SCREEN RECORD,” KK yelled, earning a laugh from you. 

“Hi KK.” You waved at her.

KK jumped up and down. “SHE KNOWS MY NAME.”

You laughed again and saw Paige leaning back on the couch, a hand over her mouth and just staring at you. “Paige I see you.”

Paige leaned forward. “Hey.” Her voice cracked and her face grew more red. You raised your eyebrows at her and the chat started going crazy.

User1: paige finally meeting her crush

User2: paige this yo chance

User3: use them rizz hands paige

“So boom,” KK said, sitting back down. “You got a talent?”

You raised your eyebrows again, shifting the camera as you lied down on your bed. “Other than making Paige flustered? Yeah I got some talents.”

KK let out the loudest laugh and Paige hid herself from the camera.

User1: Y/n knows about Paige’s crush on her y’all

“No Paige come back, my bad, I didn’t mean to embarrass you like that.” You apologized and waited to see her face on screen again. You couldn’t lie, she was gorgeous. And you were fangirling a little.

“I ain’t embarrassed,” she replied. She was freaking out internally right now.

“Yeah?” you ask, smiling at her. “Heard you said you could treat me right.”

“OH,” Paige shouted, blushing like crazy.

“Damn Paige you’re cooked.” KK sat, looking in between the two of you to watch this interaction.

User5: shoot your shot rn

“Yeah I said that,” Paige winked at you, finally gaining some confidence after freaking out.

“I always had a thing for blonde hoopers so I’m down,” you said winking back. Paige started smiling and laughing. KK hyping her up.

“Blonde hoopers because of me right?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” you joked. 

“Ight, I’ma dm you later and we gonna make this happen.”

“Okok,” you nodded and she began to do her infamous rizz hands.

“Yo, write a song about me.”

This caught you off guard causing you to widen your eyes. “Give me something to write about then.”

User1: NOT THEM MAD FLIRTING W EACH OTHER RN

User2: They gonna date, just watch

KK sighed. “Paige stop hogging her bro. This is a talent show, not a flirting match.”

Paige put up her hands in defense. “Ok fine, Y/n I’ll text you later, don’t you worry.”

“Sounds good.”

“WHAT’S YOUR TALENT?” KK screamed into the mic.

You proceeded to sing to KK as your talent on the live, her using Paige’s phone to film you and dance to your singing. After you were done, the three of you talked some more and then you said bye to the live, hopping off. 

About five minutes later, you get an instagram notification:

paigebueckers sent you a message.

[1lovewony]

Escape the Spotlight (Hanni of Newjeans)

Hanni x Male Reader (Y/N) Word Count: 1841 words Summary: Y/N fucks Hanni after her birthday, oh also this is canon so sum issues about them rn.

The soft hum of the city filtered through the dorm’s open window, carried by the cool evening breeze. Hanni had left it cracked just enough for the noise to feel distant, like a reminder of the world outside, one she was eager to escape from tonight. She leaned against the desk in her small, cozy dorm, her phone loosely grasped in her hand as she reread the last message she sent.

“Hey, come over. I need a distraction.”

Simple, direct, and maybe a little too forward, but she was tired of holding back. Her birthday was supposed to be a time to celebrate, but all it had been was a whirlwind of interviews, scheduled social media posts, and the pressures that came with being under the spotlight as an idol. For once, she wanted to forget about the cameras and scripts and just be herself.

The only person who could assist her in doing that was Y/N.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but the minutes dragged as she waited. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation creeping up her spine. It wasn’t often that she invited someone into her private space like this, but Y/N was different. There was something about him that made her feel... safe. She didn’t need to put up her walls or play a part when he was around.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. His message was brief:

“On my way. Be there soon.”

Hanni exhaled, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She pushed herself away from the desk, pacing a bit to calm her nerves. She had no idea what tonight would lead to, but she knew she wanted it to be far from the reality she lived in every day. No cameras, no judgment, just her and Y/N.

As she moved around the room, she glanced at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her reflection showed a different side of her—Hanni Pham, the idol, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was just Hanni, in a simple oversized hoodie and comfortable shorts, her dark hair tied up messily. She was free from the usual layers of makeup and the high-maintenance outfits, and for once, she liked it. It was the real her. She wished more people would see, but they didn’t.

She rubbed her arms absentmindedly, feeling the familiar anxiety settle in. Being an idol wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The expectations, the scrutiny, the never-ending demand to be perfect—it was exhausting. And as much as she loved her fans, sometimes she just needed a break.

Tonight, she hoped Y/N would be that break.

The knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She moved quickly, her pulse quickening. Pulling the door open, she was met with the sight of Y/N standing there, looking a bit out of breath but with that familiar smile that always made her feel at ease.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and slightly teasing. “Didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I? ”

Hanni shook her head, stepping aside to let him in. “No, you’re just in time.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, there was an awkward pause as they stood there. The tension between them was subtle but palpable. They’d known each other for a while, but tonight felt different. Something was hanging in the air, something unspoken, and neither of them seemed ready to address it—at least not yet.

Y/N took in the room, noticing the faint scent of lavender that lingered, the warm glow of the dim light she’d set up, and the slight mess that hinted at her life outside of the polished image people saw on stage. It was intimate and personal.

“You look... comfortable,” he remarked, his eyes tracing over her figure, not in a way that made her self-conscious but in a way that made her feel seen. Really seen.

She smiled, playing with the hem of her hoodie. “It’s my birthday. I wanted to be comfortable.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you decided to spend it... with me? ”

She shrugged, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to spend it alone.”

That admission hung in the air, and Y/N seemed to understand. Without saying a word, he stepped closer, his presence immediately grounding her. He wasn’t there to judge or to expect anything from her. He was just... there. And that was what she needed most.

They moved to sit on the floor, leaning against the foot of her bed. The conversation flowed easily at first—catching up, joking around, talking about things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But as the minutes passed, Hanni found herself opening up more, telling him about the things she didn’t usually share with others.

“It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The whole idol thing... it’s not as glamorous as people think.”

Y/N listened intently, his gaze never leaving her face. He nodded, not interrupting, just letting her speak.

“I just... I want to be myself, you know? ”She laughed bitterly. “But sometimes, I don’t even know who that is anymore.”

There was a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. Y/N reached out, gently taking her hand in his. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth through her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re Hanni,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “That’s enough.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was such a simple statement, but it meant everything to her at that moment. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. She could just be... her.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant, as if she were testing the waters. But when Y/N kissed her back, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, something inside her clicked.

This was what she’d been missing. This connection, this intimacy. The world outside didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was him and the way he made her feel like she was enough, just as she was.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as the tension between them finally broke. Hanni’s hands slid up his chest, pulling him closer as their breaths mingled, the room around them fading into the background. All of her worries, her stress, her insecurities—they melted away in his embrace.

As they pulled apart, breathless, Hanni rested her forehead against his, her fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “For being here.”

Y/N smiled, his hand resting on her waist, grounding her. “Always." Y/N removes his shirt with a quick motion, leaving Hanni with a desired look. Hanni instantly kisses Y/N with more passion, as if she were dehydrated for lust. Both of them moan as their mouths explore each other. After an intense makeover, Hanni grabbed her shorts and tossed them to the side. Y/N then put his hands over her thighs; Hanni’s already wet from the sloppy kisses they had. Y/N rubbed his hands on her pants, making circles on Hanni’s clitoral area. Instinctively Hanni moans under his mouth. “Ugh, yes, make me cum Y/N.Hannah is reaching her limit; she holds on with the kiss and moans louder and louder with every hand movement of Y/N. “I am going to cum, Y/N, I am going to cu... ughh.” She reached her orgasm, slowly fading to Y/N's body as she loses her energy. They looked at each other with a smile. “I want you on me, Y/N.” Without wasting any time, Y/N removed his pants, greeting Hanni with a bulge in his boxers. Hanni’s face was flustered by the view. She was smiling and grinning. “Wow.” leaves from her mouth. Instantly she moves onto his boxers and removes slowly while looking at Y/N eyes. Y/N cock flew from his boxer and hit Hanni’s face. Both laughed, but then Hanni swallowed the rod in her face. “Oh Hanni.”

She bobbed her head up and down, swallowing inch by inch of Y/N cock. She is making slurping sounds, moaning while taking what’s her. She continued the blowjob, occasionally changing the pace. “I am getting close.” When she hears this, she increases the pace like she's racing a deadline. She speeds her bobbing, galloping every inch of Y/N cock, and after a minute Y/N shoots his hot semen in her mouth. She swallows all of his cum, even licking the ones that overflow from her mouth. Hanni then stands over Y/N, removing her hoodie, showing her cute boobs to him, and playing with her nipples—that’s already hard.

Hanni slowly lowers her body to Y/N, aligning her opening to him. She kept eye contact with him, having conversations with their eyes and being playful with it. His cock entered the heavens when Hanni finally let him come in, breaking the silence with a moan from both of them. She adjusted as the tip was entering. It is not their first time, yet she's still tight as ever. Y/N groaned from the feeling of his cock entering Hanni’s pussy. As she lowered her body more, it also adjusted with Y/N's size; after all,  7 inches isn’t that easy to penetrate.

Hanni gives up and lowers her entire body to him, leaving her to lose control of her body and slams to Y/N, but luckily he catches her and at the same time kisses her on the lips, creating another makeup session. She slowly moves her hips and starts her ride. “Oh, god, your cock feels so good on me,” she blurts from her mouth.

Just like the blowjob, she also increases her pace slowly. She truly wants to make it all the time and to experience another world far from her idol image. They parted lips as the pace started getting faster. Hanni then let Y/N do more of the work; he's now the one driving the pace as he fucks her hard, leaving Hanni with moans and pleasure.

“Fuck!! ,” she screamed as she  coughed. Y/N followed with his seed shooting inside her. ‘Oh sh*t, I cummed inside fuck my bad,” he said to her.

Oh yes, cum inside me. I am on pills, you dumbo.” With her approving of him to cum inside of her. Y/N carried Hanni and changed into a dogstyle position and kept fucking her.

This goes throughout the night; time passes, lives change, and a new world is ahead.

Hanni kisses Y/N, “Thanks for coming; I had fun.” “Me, too. I am always here when you need me. Goodnight.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thanks for reading!!

A/N: Hanni smut?, Hanni smut, Hanni smut!, HANNI SMUT!??!!!