#i still laugh at the scene of them sitting on the chairs side by side

[200mark]

⌗ stress free zone .. na jaemin

SCENE .. in which jaemin builds a pillow fort and declare it an official "no stress" zone.

꒰ DETAILS ꒱ boyfriend!jaemin & fem!rea ⋮ ♯ file 005. established relationship, scenario, fluff && fluff ᵔⰙᵔ wc .. {1454} 𓂃🖊

♡ entry .. got inspired cause me and siblings made a pillow fort the other night just cause lol, i hope you all enjoy this! i appreciate all the support and sorry for the inconsistency!! 🤍 (also it was like 4:53am when i wrote this, please excuse any errors!)

more of nct dream

between the stress of school and your part-time job you have little to no time to your, and the time you do get to yourself you wanna spend it in the bed laying down or doing a few chores around the house. jaemin took notice in this as a boyfriend would and decided to make the best of the time you have before your finals.

you’re currently sitting in bed with your laptop on your lap with your notebook next to you occasionally picking up the notebook writing things down, jaemin walks into your shared bedroom and sighs at the sight of you being so deep into your studies not an annoyed sigh but more of a “you were in this same spot 15 mins ago” kind of sigh.

“still at it, hm?” his tone wasn’t sarcastic but he didn’t ask, asking for a response more so because he already knew the answer. you nodded in return not wanting to take your focus away from the screen in front of you “just a few more pages and then i’m all done” you grabbed your notebook writing more things down and he just looked at you before smiling and nodding.

he had been sitting in the living room while you were studying hoping you’d call his name or just strot out the bedroom and right onto his lap but you didn’t, that’s when he decided to join you back in the room.

“jaem not right now, i have just a few more pages and i’ll be done.” you only said this cause he had made his way to your side of the bed kissing your neck and gently massaging your shoulders and you were tense. as much as you needed that and appreciated it you needed to focus, “these finals aren’t going to take themselves,” you said “they could,” he added and you gave a small laugh.

he eventually got the hint and decided to leave you alone again before leaving the room. he snatched a pillow off the bed with a pout like he was mad, he wasn’t which caused you to look at him for a few seconds and then laugh a little. “just give me 15 minutes!!” he playfully rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him.

jaemin plopped down on the couch sitting on the remote in the process, “ouch” he said “okay that didn’t hurt,” he added he groaned before pulling the remote from underneath him and flicking through the channels after finding something he was content with looking at he sat the remote on the coffee table.

“i never realized how UNCOMFORTABLE this COUCH WAS until NOW after HOURS of sitting on in.” he said shouting certain words in hopes you’d hear him and i don’t know maybe close your laptop.

he threw the pillow he brought from the bedroom onto the floor and propped his legs up on the couch while his upper body rested onto the floor, his back and head laying on the pillow. he stayed like this for a few minutes before getting a crazy idea.

he looked over a the dining room chair, the throw blanket on the couch and it’s like a light bulb switched on like something just clicked, “jaemin… i know what we’re going to do today.” he mumbled to himself, yeah he was watching phineas and ferb and suddenly said that, “maybe let’s not say that again?” he mumbled to himself yet again, “i think i should stop talking to myself now.”

he got up from the floor and started to put his plan into action, he wanted to be as loud and as quiet as possible. he knows whenever you attempt to be quiet is when you tend to be more loud so he hopes that's the case this time. he moves the chairs from the kitchen into the living room positioning them to his liking, “do i add the pillow first or the blankets?” he thought to himself standing there running his hand through his hair looking at the chairs.

“let me move the coffee table first,” he took the few things that were on the coffee table off before picking it up and flipping it over onto the couch. “okay, maybe adding the pillows will make it easier when adding the blankets?” he questioned himself, “why is this so complicated? this was easier when i was a kid.” and wirth that he moved the chairs more into the center of the living room now that he has more space upon moving the coffee table.

“this looks a lot better, in my humble opinion of course,” he laughs at his own joke before clearing his throat in a ‘you’re talking to yourself again’ way. he continued to set up the pillow fort occasionally bumping into things purposely so that you could hear him but not so much that you would come out the room.

he went to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle chugging it before sitting it on top of the counter and looking over at the pillow fort before smiling and nodding to himself, “it’s missing something” he said looking at the fort then around the living room, then he spots it those fairy lights you bought to hang behind the tv but never had the time.

“you thinking what i’m thinking?” the tv says and it’s likr the stole the words right out of his mouth, he makes his way back into the living room carefully gliding through the area where the fort is built so he doesn’t knock over but one of the sheets he used fell off causing the whole roof of the fort to fall.

“dammit” he said, tossing the box of the lights onto the couch before attempting to fix the roof of the fort that took him several minutes to build. after about five minutes he got it back to his liking and now was time to add the lights. he plugged the lights into the wall and smiled as they lit up, “how should i do this?” he looked down at the lights then back up to the fort before just tossing the light over it and gently adjusting them in places that needed adjustments.

he went to the kitchen and wanted to grab a few snacks but the snack cabinet was empty so being the lovely and caring boyfriend he is he decided to make a quick store run before he told you about the fort.

you’re still in the bed studying you heard the bumps and thumping but you just put your headphones in and tuned out jaemin you summed it up as him wanting your attention which wasn’t far from the truth.

then suddenly your phone gets a notification and it’s from jaemin, “come to the living room please” he texted but he was still typing, “and leave the laptop” you laughed at his messages then got out of bed stretching a bit before making your way into the living room.

“baby what is this?” you laugh looking at him in the fort with a fake rose in his mouth, “surprised?” “yes!” you continued laughing. “cute, but what’s with the rose?” you cross your arms raising an eyebrow and he crawled from under the fort standing up slightly towering over your, “i wanted to add a bit of sexiness.”

you smile lovingly at him shaking your head, “what’s all this for? and you went out and bought snacks? look at you!” you tease him and you can tell he’s embarrassed not in like an embarrassing way but like in a ‘stooooppp’ way.

he took your hands into his “it’s for you—us you’ve been working and studying non-stop so i wanted us, as boyfriend and girlfriend to enjoy some time together and not as roommates.” you smile at his words wrapping your arms around his neck, “ew, you’re cheesy at times but i love it and i love you.” “i love you more,” he said placing a quick kiss onto your lips before you pulled him back for another one.

“hey but when you enter our there will be NO talk about work, school and even about that time i didn’t take out the trash.” he said easing into the tent, you gently smack his bottom “jaemin shut up,” you laugh and so does he.

and you two enjoyed eachothers company with that being pillow talk and a few other things before eventually falling asleep.

“jaem you’re going to put my living room back together in the morning right?” “maybe not in the morning but yes i will eventually.” you both laugh and you snuggle against his chest listening closely to his heartbeat and steady breathing.

[avastyetwats]

Captain Charles Vane saving Captain James Flint.

Bonus:

[inkandapex]

through the lens — drive to survive moments

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary : The cameras may be there for Formula 1, but somehow, they keep capturing them. From playful bickering in the paddock to wholesome moments in McLaren’s garage, from Y/N’s growing fan club to Lando’s exaggerated jealousy, Drive to Survive unknowingly turns their love story into a viral sensation—one chaotic moment at a time.

Words : 3.6k

Warnings : swearing

Friends turned Rivals Lovers

The camera focuses on Lando, settled in the driver’s seat, before shifting to the seat behind him. Just beside the cameraman, Max F is seen scrolling through his phone.

“Max is pouty because he usually sits in the passenger seat,” Lando quips, drawing the camera’s attention back to him. A glimpse of his cheeky grin is visible from his side profile.

Reaching over the passenger seat, Lando rests a hand on her thigh. Max chuckles softly. “Bit more legroom up front.”

The scene cuts to Lando, now sat in a studio. From behind the camera, a voice cuts in. “You’ve been a hot topic this off-season. Any updates you want to share?”

Lando leans back in his chair, fixing his hair as he readies himself for the interview segment of Drive to Survive.

"What makes you say that?" A shy smile creeps onto his face just before the screen transitions to a montage of headlines and social media posts.

"Lando Norris seen kissing mystery girl in his Ferrari" "Lando Norris and mystery girl spotted driving around Monaco" "Mystery girl identified—longtime friend Y/N L/N" "Friends to Lovers? The true identity of McLaren driver Lando Norris'new girlfriend"

Lando nods with a smile. “Y/N and I have been friends for a long time. Finally found the guts to ask her to be mine.”

“Are you the romantic type?”

He chuckles, shrugging. “You’d have to ask her.”

The scene transitions to the paddock, where Lando walks hand-in-hand with Y/N, her bag slung over his arm. Max trails beside them, hands in his pockets. The trio makes their way into McLaren’s hospitality, settling at a free table tucked away in the corner, away from the crowd.

Y/N takes a sip of her smoothie before glancing at Lando. “Excited for today? First practice of the season.”

Lando looks up from his phone, nodding. “Yeah, feeling pretty good. Car felt good during testing—hope it translates well throughout the season.”

“Think he’s more nervous about the fact that you’ll be here watching,” Max teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

Y/N laughs softly. “I’ve been to races before, you know.”

“Yeah, but not as his girlfriend. Now he’s got to win for the team and to show off for you.”

“You dick,” Lando chuckles, grabbing a straw wrapper and tossing it at Max, who dodges it with a grin.

Lando glances at his watch, letting out a soft sigh before pushing his chair back. “Alright, I gotta go get ready.”

Max leans back in his chair, nodding. “We’ll be in the garage before you head out.”

Lando grabs Y/N’s bag from the table, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go, baby.”

Y/N blinks up at him, confused. “Am I not staying with Max?”

Lando shrugs, a small smirk on his lips. “You could… but I want you with me while I get ready. Your choice.”

Y/N smiles and stands up, slipping her hand into Lando’s. Max groans dramatically. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been benched. I’ve lost my WAG status.”

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

Air Max

Lando holds up his phone, the camera capturing the view outside Max Verstappen’s private plane. His team had arranged with Drive to Survive to give Netflix a small peek into his life outside the paddock. Now, he’s tasked with filming parts of his day—something he’s getting used to but still isn’t entirely comfortable with.

The camera shifts, panning around the cabin before zooming in on Max and his girlfriend, who sit across from each other, faces buried in their phones.

“Look at these two… they’ve been like this since we took off,” Lando murmurs, walking closer while keeping the camera focused on them. He tilts the screen toward their hands, revealing the game they’re both locked into—a racing simulator. Neither of them spares him a glance.

“We asked you to join, mate,” Max chuckles without looking up.

Lando plops down beside Y/N, setting the camera down at an angle that captures all three of them. He starts poking her cheek, then her side, trying to get her attention.

“Lan. I swear, if I lose—”

“—Of course you will. You’re racing against Max.”

“She’s actually pretty good, you know,” Max chimes in, eyes still glued to his phone.

Before Lando can tease again, Y/N suddenly shrieks, making him flinch. She drops her phone onto the table, leaning back in her seat with a dramatic groan of defeat.

“What did I say, baby?” Lando laughs, nudging her shoulder.

But Y/N is already sitting back up, snatching her phone with urgency. “One more, Max. Come on, let’s go. This is the one—I can feel it.”

Lando groans, throwing his head back. “Y/N, baby, please. Let’s watch a movie, take a nap, something.”

“In a bit, Lan, I need to beat Max.”

Max smirks, finally looking up at Lando with a teasing glint in his eye. “Sorry, mate. I win.”

"We're flying commercial next time"

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

I'm just here for the coffee

The Drive to Survive camera crew catches up with Lando as he wraps up media duties alongside Oscar in McLaren hospitality. He’s distracted—eyes constantly scanning the room, phone in hand, thumb hovering over the screen as he checks it every few seconds. His expression shifts between mild frustration and confusion.

Just as he exhales sharply, about to shove his phone into his pocket, a familiar voice calls out.

"Lando!"

Max F calls out, relief on his face as he finally spots his friend sitting by the doors. Lando strides towards him, but before he can even greet them, Max speaks again.

"Oh, I thought Y/N would be with you. I've been trying to reach her for hours now."

Lando’s brows furrow, holding up his phone.

"I’ve been trying to call her too. I thought she was with you."

The realization hits him like a switch flipping. His expression drops into something between disbelief and sheer irritation. He exhales, shakes his head, and lets out a knowing scoff.

"I might know where she is."

Cue the most dramatic yet comedic smash cut imaginable.

Ferrari Hospitality – Where Y/N Has Been the Entire Time.

The camera immediately cuts to Y/N, relaxed and unbothered, seated at a table inside Ferrari hospitality. The atmosphere is lively, filled with laughter as they sip espresso, surrounded by Carlos, Charles, and their girlfriends. The Ferrari logo gleams proudly in the background, almost mocking.

Y/N leans forward, grinning at something Carlos just said, stirring their coffee absentmindedly. Charles adds a comment that earns another round of laughter. It’s the picture of comfort—warm, inviting, and clearly where Y/N has been all along.

Then, in the background, the doors swing open.

The camera follows Lando as he steps inside, expression unreadable—until the dramatic zoom-in captures the very moment.

"Unbelievable."

Lando’s voice cuts through the laughter, making the entire table turn their heads toward him. The easygoing chatter dies down as he strides over, hands on his hips, phone still clutched in one hand. His brows are furrowed—confused, mildly exasperated, and very much not amused.

"Baby, Max and I have been calling you."

Y/N blinks before reaching into their bag, finally checking their phone. The screen lights up with multiple missed calls. A sheepish smile tugs at their lips as they glance back up at Lando.

"Oops? Sorry, Lan. I had my ringer off."

Charles smirks, leaning back in his chair. "She’s been having a great time with us, mate."

Lando squints at him before turning back to Y/N. "How long have you been here?"

Before Y/N can even open their mouth, Carlos chimes in.

"Actually, quite late today. She came an hour later than usual."

Lando blinks. Processes. "Later than usual?" His gaze snaps back to Y/N, his confusion shifting into shock. "How often are you here?!"

Y/N, fully caught now, shrugs, setting their coffee down.

"I mean… almost every media day? You’re busy filming, and their coffee is really good here so I just—"

Lando groans, rubbing his face. "Oh baby…"

Before he can spiral further, Rebecca—clearly enjoying the moment—leans in with a grin. "Show Lando what Carlos and Charles gave you!"

Y/N shoots her a betrayed side-eye, but it’s too late. Lando’s eyes widen slightly as he looks between them. He nods at Y/N, expectantly.

Y/N sighs, reaching back into their bag. With hesitant hands, they pull out a very red Ferrari cap and place it on the table.

Silence.

Lando stares.

Alex, grinning, decides to throw more fuel into the fire. "You could’ve at least signed it for her."

"Oh shit—yeah." Charles grabs the cap, immediately patting down his pockets for a pen. He looks around helplessly before turning to Lando.

"Do you have a Sharpie?"

Lando blinks. His eye twitches.

"Do I—" He stops himself, inhales deeply, then exhales, running a hand down his face.

"Okay. We’re leaving. Come on."

Y/N barely has time to protest before Lando takes their hand and starts walking. "But— baby no my coffee..."

"I'll get you your own coffee machine"

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

A victory in full bloom

It’s the moment Lando’s been dreaming of his entire career: his first-ever Formula 1 race win. The podium ceremony is over, and he’s just wrapped up celebrating with his team, taking photos and soaking in the victory. The Netflix crew trails him closely, hoping to catch a quick statement from the new race winner. But Lando’s not focused on the cameras or interviews—his mind is set on finding someone. He’s been eager to celebrate with Y/N.

As he walks towards the trailers, his eyes scan the area until they land on her. There she is, standing by his trailer with a small bouquet of flowers in hand. Lando stops dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his chest for a moment. A wide smile spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of her, the bouquet a simple yet perfect gesture for this milestone moment.

Y/N looks up and meets his gaze, a soft smile tugging at her lips. It’s clear she’s been waiting for him. "Hey champ"

Lando’s eyes light up when he sees them, his smile growing even wider. He’s still buzzing from the excitement of the win, but this moment feels different—more personal.

Lando is grinning from ear to ear "What’s this? For me?"

Y/N shyly holds the bouquet out towards him, a soft smile on her face. "Yeah... It's not the best, but it's the only one I could get my hands on at such short notice."

Lando doesn’t hesitate for a second. He sets his trophy down on the ground, his attention entirely on the flowers in her hands. He takes the bouquet from her gently, inspecting it with a look of pure joy on his face. The smile never leaves as he admires the thoughtful gesture.

Y/N flinches slightly when she hears the clink of the trophy being set down. “Oh, Lan, don’t just leave it on the floor—”

Before she can even move to pick it up, Lando pulls her into a tight, elated hug, careful not to crush the flowers between them.

“These are beautiful, my love. Thank you,” he whispers against her ear, his voice full of affection. “God, I love you. You’re the best, you know that, right?”

Y/N, caught in the warmth of the moment, smiles softly, her heart racing. Lando’s arms around her feel like the perfect celebration of everything they’ve worked for together.

"I'm so proud of you, Lan, my race winner," Y/N says softly, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Lando lets out a quiet laugh, glancing over her shoulder and catching sight of one of the camera crew members standing off to the side, clearly eager to capture the intimate moment. His smile widens, but then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he pulls away from her and takes her hand firmly in his.

"Alright, you vultures," he calls out playfully to the crew, his tone teasing as he begins to walk away with Y/N in tow. "Go film someone else now."

Lando walks off, his stride confident and relaxed, one hand holding the bouquet Y/N gave him, the other wrapped around her hand. His focus is entirely on her as they move down the paddock together, the world around them momentarily fading away.

"Lando the trophy!"

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

Fan Favourite

The cameras follow Lando and Y/N as they stroll hand in hand through the paddock, stopping every few meters to greet excited fans. It’s a typical moment for them, with Lando taking his time to chat and take photos with the crowd, but today, there’s a certain energy in the air that the fans—especially the ones around them—seem to feed off of.

Y/N stands to the side, watching with a smile as Lando interacts with a group of young fans. One fan, in particular, catches his attention. She’s holding a small, handmade friendship bracelet, her hands slightly trembling with excitement.

Lando’s smile widens as he notices the bracelet. He looks at the fan and gestures toward it with a raised eyebrow, "That’s really pretty. Is that for me?"

The fan's eyes go wide, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to form words. Finally, she manages a shy reply, "Oh, uh... actually, it’s for Y/N. If you could give it to her, please?"

Lando lets out a lighthearted laugh, realizing his mistake, a blush creeping up his neck. He turns over his shoulder, calling out to Y/N with a playful tone, "Love, c’mere. They wanna say hi."

Y/N steps forward, smiling warmly as she walks towards them. But before she even gets close, a few of the girls in the group let out high-pitched squeals, and Lando, hearing the reaction, pauses mid-step. He turns around to face the group, his jaw dropping in mock surprise. “Right, calm down,” he teases, raising an eyebrow. "It's almost like you're more excited to meet her than me!"

The fans giggle, some blushing, while Y/N smiles with a soft laugh, taking the bracelet from the fan’s outstretched hand. Lando, now with a playful smirk, shakes his head, clearly enjoying the teasing moment.

Y/N immediately slips the bracelet onto her wrist, admiring it with a bright smile. “This is so pretty! Thank you so much, you guys are the sweetest.”

Before she can say anything else, another fan eagerly steps forward, holding out a small crocheted cat dressed in what looks suspiciously like Lando’s helmet.

“I got you this as well!” the fan beams.

Y/N gasps, carefully taking the little plushie into her hands. “Oh my gosh! Is this supposed to be Lando?” She turns it over, inspecting the tiny details, from the pattern of the helmet to the little number on its side. “This is adorable—you guys…” Her voice softens, and she clutches the cat close to her chest, looking at the group with a touched expression, lips forming a small pout.

Lando, standing off to the side, watches with a fond smile, his heart swelling as he sees how naturally she interacts with his fans. He doesn’t even realize how long he’s been staring until Y/N turns to him, stretching out her arm with her phone in hand.

“Lan, baby, take a photo of us, please?”

Lando blinks, snapping out of his daze. He lets out a chuckle before taking the phone from her hand. “Yeah, yeah—sorry, got a bit distracted there.”

After snapping a few more photos and sharing a couple more laughs, Y/N and Lando exchanged their final goodbyes with the fans before continuing their stroll toward the McLaren garage.

Y/N glanced down at the bracelet on her wrist, still admiring the thoughtful gift, while Lando walked beside her, hands in his pockets, a playful pout forming on his lips.

"Can't believe I gotta share my girlfriend with my fans now," he muttered dramatically, shaking his head.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, bumping her shoulder against his. "Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t love it," she teased.

Lando sighed, pretending to be exasperated. "I mean, I was the main attraction. Now they’re out here squealing over you and giving you gifts." He shot her a look, but the corners of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement.

Y/N smirked, holding up the tiny crocheted cat. "Jealous?"

Lando scoffed, but his eyes flickered down to the plushie, and he hummed in fake thought. “Depends... do I get one in return?”

Y/N grinned. "Maybe if you win the race this weekend."

Lando groaned, tilting his head back. “So now I have to earn your love? This is outrageous.”

Y/N just giggled, slipping her hand into his, swinging it slightly as they walked. “You love the challenge, Norris.”

He sighed, squeezing her hand. “Yeah... yeah, I do.”

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

P's new favourite

Lando’s relationship with Max Verstappen’s stepdaughter, Penelope, had always been a good one. Between race weekends and off-season meetups in Monaco, he saw her often, and they had their own little bond.

But ever since he started dating Y/N, it seemed like P had a new favorite.

Just before heading to the garage, Lando stood outside McLaren hospitality, casually chatting with his mom, a few friends, Kelly, and P—who, instead of paying attention to the conversation, was entirely focused on showing Lando her collection of stickers.

Lando’s smile softens as he looks down at the little girl, carefully pressing the sticker onto his fireproofs. “For me?” he asks, feigning surprise. “Thank you, P.”

“Bye, Lando!” P grins, bouncing on her heels before giving him a high five, which quickly turns into a hug.

Lando barely has time to wrap his arms around her before she suddenly gasps dramatically, pulling away as fast as she had latched onto him. Without a second thought, she bolts in the opposite direction.

“Y/N!”

The camera follows her path, cutting to Y/N just as she arrives. A wide smile spreads across her face as she kneels down, arms open and ready for impact.

P barrels straight into her, nearly knocking her over as she wraps her tiny arms around Y/N in a tight hug.

Y/N lets out a small laugh, steadying herself. “Hi, P! I love your hair—you look so pretty!”

P quickly pulls back, twirling proudly to show off her outfit. “Lando said he liked my hair too!” she exclaims.

Y/N gasps, playing along. “Well, if Lando said it, then it must be true.”

P giggles before Y/N takes her small hands in hers. “Alright, come on then, let’s go say goodbye to Lando.”

As they make their way back toward the group, Kelly watches them with a knowing smile. “She literally pulled away from Lando’s hug just to run to you,” she muses, shaking her head with amusement.

Lando lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms. “Yeah, my family does the same thing when I bring her home with me.”

Cisca, who had been standing off to the side, bursts into laughter, nodding in agreement. “It’s true.”

“Hi, baby. I’m about to head off. I’ll see you after,” Lando murmurs, stepping in close to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips before pulling her into a tight hug.

Before Y/N can even melt into the embrace, a small but determined voice interrupts.

“Okay, bye now, Lando.”

P, eyes set with purpose, marches forward and starts pushing Lando away with her tiny hands.

Lando lets out a laugh, barely stumbling back before crossing his arms over his chest. “Excuse me? Am I not even allowed to kiss my girlfriend goodbye now?”

“She’s mine!” P announces proudly, wrapping her arms around Y/N in a possessive hug.

Y/N laughs, running a gentle hand over the little girl’s head. “Alright, missy, I think Lando gets the message loud and clear.” She glances at Lando with a teasing smile before blowing him a kiss. “I’ll see you later, my love. Good luck and be safe.”

Lando sneaks in a quick peck to her cheek before jogging off, grinning. “I’ll be back to take my girlfriend back, P! Watch over her for me!”

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, reader's second gender is omega, so there are mentions of pregnancy, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ prequel to this

♡ GN reader

His eyes are garnet and slim—you can’t make up your mind if they’re judgemental or just assessing. Either would be allowed, of course. The point of the date is for him to decide if you’re sufficient or not.

And yet, you’re the one taking him in. His main is ashen blonde, boyishly spikey and wild—not fine-kempt and slick like you’d pictured. He didn’t have any grey hair either, or stubble, or wrinkles. Though he’s still much bigger and burlier than they are, he can’t be any older than the eldest males back at the institution.

He’s obviously an Alpha, and still, it’s so odd.

“You’re young,” you end up saying.

His nose scrunches. “No younger than you.”

It must have sounded accusatory, even when you only meant to point it out for yourself. You probably ought to have said it silently, inside yourself, and not out loud like you did.

And so you apologize, “I’m sorry, I was—I was just expecting someone older…” You try smiling, but the thought of him actually having been older makes your throat tight, and you swallow thickly instead. “Much older.”

He sighs, looks off to the side instead of at you. His brows tighten—you probably want someone who’s already got a house and a car and a boat on a lake, not to mention a good salary and not the intern pay he’ll be living off of for at least the next year or so. His foot taps beneath the table. You feel it in the floorboards. “You disappointed or somethin’?” he grumbles through grit teeth and a slim frown.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, blruting, “No!” You even jump out of your chair, both hands slamming flat on the table, making the napkin-wrapped cutlery clatter within their confines. 

Quickly, but too late, you realize you’re causing a scene. Cheeks burning, you look around before settling down again—you’re not making a very good first impression so far.

You take a breath, confessing, “I mean, I’m happy,” You place your hands in your lap and then start fiddling with them. “This way, we can be together for a long time…” Your voice is breathy as you let out a somewhat apologetic sigh, smiling some. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t dare look up to gauge his expression.

You end up laughing nervously in the silence, feeling the joke arise before you're able to dispel it. “I was afraid I was gonna have to be your nurse soon.”

His foot stops tapping. Then he scoffs.

You perk up again, fumbling over your newest mistake, already apologizing a second time so far, “I’m sorry, that was rude. You’re just not what I was expecting—I’m a little caught off guard, is all.”

He huffs, then grins. “That’s okay. You don’t gotta apologize.”

You both sit in silence after that. You pick your nails more. All the questions you’ve prepared are useless given his age—he doesn’t have an answer to how many kids he wants from you. Probably. It somehow feels strange asking him when he isn’t in his thirties or forties or early fifties.

You look at him in askance. It really is odd.

“You can ask—if you’re curious,” he sanctions.

You really want to, but you’ve made enough mistakes already. Your teachers wouldn’t be proud if they witnessed you acting so childish and not as the proper little lady they’ve trained you to be. 

“No, I shouldn’t.” You shake your head and look down at your lap.

“Come on, you don’t gotta worry about being rude with me,” he insists.

You bite your lip, feeling fidgety in your chair, peering up at him. “You sure?”

“Hit me.” 

The question leaps from your tongue before you have the mind to regret it. “How can you afford this?”

He leans back in his chair. “I can’t—not yet. My folks are paying.”

You hum—that makes more sense. “They must be nice,” you say.

“They try,” he agrees.

There’s a silence again. You don’t have anything appropriate to ask. You were more prepared to talk when spoken to, to answer his questions about your health and hobbies, all silly things that make you cute and likable, but given he’s your age, none of it seems any interesting. It seems he doesn’t have much to ask, either.

“I was unsure about this,” he declares after a while. “To be honest with you, it was all my mom’s idea. I didn’t ask for it…” With a pause, he picks up the menu that had been lying undisturbed in wait for his decision. “But, she tends to be right about most things. So, I think I’ll take the offer this once.”

He lets you decide without ordering for you. Neither of you decide to drink, even though you’re both old enough. The conversation is awkward, but you giggle a couple of times and he smirks in turn. You hadn’t anticipated it—this feeling. You’d anticipated the nerves and the tension—but not this other thing, this sweet fluttering feeling blossoming in your belly, flirty and fizzy. Is this what they call butterflies?

He’s left asking himself the same question.

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[fear-is-truth]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 part II — nicholas alexander chavez.

summary — 80’s au. popular, rich pretty boy nicholas alexander chavez has laid claim on you / wc: 1.0k

tags — f! reader. mentions of alcohol. nic being a lil tipsy n cute. teensy moment between cooper & reader but platonic

read part I here

The pool party had spilled well into the evening, and the once-golden sunlight had been replaced by the soft glow of string lights scattered around the patio. The music still played, and the air was warm, thick with the scent of chlorine, alcohol and the buzz of laughter.

Nicholas, a little tipsy by now, had dragged you onto one of the lounge chairs near the pool, insisting that you sit with him. You were perched sideways on his lap, head resting against his chest, his arm slung protectively around your waist. He was laughing loudly, completely unbothered as he took in the scene around him. From where you sat, you could see a couple of girls near the edge of the pool, throwing side glances your way—obviously irritated. One of them flipped her hair and whispered something to her friend, both of them glaring as if they could will you out of Nic’s lap and into the pool. But he didn’t seem to notice nor care, as his attention was solely fixated on you. He just chuckled, thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“You’re the best part of this whole party, you know?” he murmured against your skin, voice low and a bit slurred from the drinks he’d had. You tilted your head to look at him, brushing his curls from his forehead.

“That the booze talking?”

“Nope,” he replied, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, before pointing to the place where his heart was. Then, as if making some grand announcement, Nicholas straightened up slightly, cupping his hands around his mouth to form a megaphone. “Hey people! See this hot babe right here? That’s my girl!” he hollered to no one in particular, pointing at you. People turned to look, some laughing, some raising their glasses in response. A loud wolf whistle from the crowd. You groaned, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh my God, Nic.”

He laughed, tipping his head back, and it was impossible to stay mad at him when he was like this. “Just telling it like it is,” he said, squeezing your waist affectionately.

“You’re mine, and I’m all yours.”

“Sappy.”

As much as you were enjoying it, you could tell Nicholas was a little too far gone with the alcohol, and he could probably use some water. You extricated yourself from his embrace, standing up as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m gonna grab you some water,” you said, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Be right back.”

You slipped inside the kitchen, the muffled sounds of the pool party fading as you sought a break from the noise. As you rounded the corner, you didn’t notice Cooper standing near the fridge, and before you knew it, you bumped straight into his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there,” his hands gently landing on your shoulders to steady you. You blinked up at him, bewildered, then laughed in embarrassment.

“Sorry… didn’t see you.”

“Always in a hurry, huh?” He teased, his grip light but steady before he let go and stepped back.

“Just grabbing some water for Nic,” you replied, moving toward the fridge. “He’s getting a little too enthusiastic out there.” Cooper chuckled, nodding toward the lounge area visible through the glass doors. “Yeah, I heard him. So did the whole neighbourhood, probably.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling. “Yeah, well, you know him. Subtlety isn’t his forte.”

“Nope,” Cooper agreed, pushing off the counter and opening the fridge for you. “But hey, put any other guy were in his shoes, they’d wanna let the world know too.”

“Well, how ‘bout you?” you teased, grabbing a bottled water from the fridge before closing the door. “Sure I would.” He replied matter-of-factly, his expression softening before adding thoughtfully, “If I was bisexual, though. But I’d probably make less of a scene.”

There was another pause, but this one felt different. You both just stood there, sharing the space, and it was… comfortable. Cooper, for all his teasing, had always been the steady one in your life— a permanent fixture. It wasn’t something either of you ever really acknowledged out loud, but in moments like this, the quiet between you said more than enough. You both burst into simultaneous laughter, you doubling over in stitches. Chortling, he reached out, giving your shoulder a light pat.

“You better get back out there before your man does something stupid, I don’t wanna be the one to haul his ass out of the pool again.”

As you turned to leave, Cooper’s voice called out one last time. “But hey, if he ever fucks up—” his voice took on a playful edge, though there was a hint of seriousness in it, “—I’ll kick his ass. No questions asked.”

“Thanks, Coop.”

“Anytime.”

His words stayed with you, lingering in the back of your mind, but as soon as you stepped onto the patio, your focus shifted completely. Nic’s eyes immediately found yours from across the pool, his whole face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “There she is,” he crowed, reaching out with grabby hands as soon as you got close. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling as you handed him the bottle of water. He didn’t take it, though—instead, he tugged you back onto his lap, pulling you into his arms like he’d never intended to let you go.

“Missed you so much, baby,” Nicholas mumbled into your hair, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “I was gone for like five minutes,” you laughed, leaning back against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the way his hands lazily trailed up your sides. He grinned down at you, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Five minutes too long.”

You unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and raised it to his lips, but Nic turned his head to the side, pouting.

“Nah, where’s my kiss first?”

You rolled your eyes but leaned in anyway, pressing your lips to his. As soon as you did, you tasted the faint tang of alcohol on his breath. When you pulled back to catch your breath, you giggled, wiping the edge of his mouth with your thumb. You raised the bottle again, and this time, he took a long sip, still watching you with that tipsy, adoring look in his eyes. “Better?” you asked, brushing your fingers through his slightly damp hair.

“Much better,”

MLIST.  fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hoii, absolutely love all the stories u written lol, have not left the master post for a few days now, I'm just wondering if you'll be continuing 'its all fun and games kids'? I rlly think Danny hitting on batman is hilarious and kinda feel bad for batman for having a twink of a man who looks as young as one of his kids hitting on him lmao

Danny had an afternoon off. He was bored out of his mind since he was trying to save money, and going somewhere free was only fun if he had someone with him. Sadly, every other adult he knows worked until five or later

He caught up with all his remote work. He watched every episode of his latest show. No chores needed doing. No errands to run. It's been a long time since he had some time off, and he had nothing to do.

He had put on an old movie that wasn't grabbing his attention, and now he lay on the couch staring mindlessly at the screen. If only something was entertaining to do.

His movie flickers from a scene of a child chasing some goats to a news anchor sitting behind a red line that reads Breaking News. Danny sits up a little when a box appears in the right-hand corner.

That box shows one of his favorite pastimes. Batman. He feels his lips curving into a mischievous smirk.

"Breaking news: Joker has launched an attack at city hall resulting in fifty hostages and one person harm. Their condition is unknown. Joker has released the statement that he will kill a hostage every thirty minutes. He made no demands, but Batman has arrived and is working on saving-"

Danny shifted into Phantom, flying out of his house towards city hall before the woman could finish explaining what was happening. He became invisible, feeling oddly giggly as he neared the scene. Piles of police cars were outside, various police officers in uniforms running around between tents, and a news crew was set about.

He flew right over them into the building. It wasn't hard to find the hostages. He followed the loud laughter to the last floor in the latest conference room.

They were all tied to chairs, laughing with crazed smiles cut onto their faces. Danny was momentarily thrown from the horrific sight until he remembered the rule.

He could cure them if they were injected with a poison within the last thirty minutes. Joker venom usually only gives victims about ten minutes before death or permanent damage.

Danny wasted only five seconds on each guard. He flew at them as fast as he could and landed in a tackle, knocking out most of them. The rest of the guards only saw everyone falling to the ground aggressively, so they couldn't call it in.

Then it just left Danny with crazed, laughing civilians. He became visible long enough to gather healing ice and smiled at the staring hostages, laughing but crying.

____________________________________________________________

Batman burst into the room an hour later. He was worse for wear, with fresh bruises along his jar and some cuts in his costume.

He just finished taking down the Joker, and whatever dumb goons thought they could put up a good fight against him. Despite the mask, Danny could tell he was preparing himself

He obviously wasn't expecting to find fifty people passed out with clear signs of having someone treated them. A side effect of this particular joker venom had them clawing at their arms until they drew blood. Danny had snuck away some first-aid boxes to grab their bandages.

"Batman! You've come to rescue me!" Danny swoons from the rolling chair he tied himself into. He wiggles his feet against the floor and approaches the still form in the doorway. "I knew you would save me!"

"Oh," Batman sighs. "You again."

This was better than daytime TV.

[callsigns-haze]

Pamper queen

Azriel might be the most intimidating man, the definition of the devils shadow, but really he's a pampered drama queen. Each weekend him and his mate go full out in skin care and Rhysand and Cassian find it hilarious.

Warnings: Fluff, alcohol, would acne extraction be one??? sparring and cursing oh and Azriel being a drama queen

Wordcount: 2.8k

Azriel x reader

Cassian's laughter rings out like a clap of thunder, echoing off the walls of Rhysand’s office. He’s leaning against Rhys’s desk, half a glass of wine in one hand and a teasing glint in his hazel eyes. Rhys, seated comfortably in his high-backed chair, smirks in that lazy, knowing way of his. His violet eyes flick to Azriel, who is leaning stiffly against the far wall, his shadows unusually still as they curl around his shoulders.

“So, Az,” Cassian starts, dragging out the name like it’s a punchline in and of itself. “You’re telling me you—the terror of Illyria, the spymaster of the Night Court—spend your Sunday nights getting your face poked at?”

Rhys snorts, swirling his wine. “Careful, Cass. If you laugh too hard, he might sic Y/N on you. I hear she takes her...skincare duties very seriously.”

Azriel doesn’t so much as flinch, though you can see the faint twitch of his jaw, a crack in the stoic mask he always wears. He levels them with a cool, unbothered stare, but you know better. He’s biting back a sigh.

“She does it for me,” Azriel finally says, his voice even, though there’s a defensive undertone there. One that makes Rhys's smirk widen and Cassian practically howl with glee.

“She does it for you?” Cassian wheezes, his wings rustling as he doubles over, clutching his stomach. “Oh, please, tell me she gives you one of those fancy face masks too. Maybe with cucumbers for your eyes?”

Azriel’s shadows swirl as if annoyed on his behalf. “You two wouldn’t understand,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rhys raises a brow, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. “Oh, we understand perfectly, Az. Your mate loves taking care of you, and you love letting her. But—” Rhys’s grin sharpens, his tone turning wicked— “we also understand that you’re probably lying there, utterly miserable, while she does it.”

“You don’t move, do you?” Cassian cuts in, barely containing his glee. “You just let her sit there with her little kit of torture devices and—what—dig into your pores? Do you even blink, Az?”

“Of course, I blink,” Azriel replies dryly, but he still hasn’t moved from his spot against the wall. You suspect he’s calculating the fastest way to leave the room.

Cassian doesn’t let up, his laughter spilling out in waves. “I’d pay good money to see it. You, flat on your back, probably wincing while she scolds you for not using whatever cream she gave you last week.”

“She doesn’t scold me,” Azriel says calmly, though his shadows twist tighter, betraying his irritation.

“Oh, I bet she does,” Rhys says with a chuckle. “And I bet you love it.”

That earns him a glare, but Rhys just shrugs, unbothered.

“Does she threaten you too?” Cassian adds, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Like, ‘Hold still, Azriel, or I’ll use the extractor tool.’” He waves his hand dramatically for effect, then bursts into laughter again.

You can’t help but grin as you step into the room, the scene unfolding exactly as you imagined it would. All three males glance your way, but it’s Azriel who straightens immediately, his shoulders relaxing as you approach.

“You’ve been talking about me, haven’t you?” you ask lightly, fixing Cassian and Rhys with a knowing look.

“Never,” Rhys drawls innocently, though his smirk gives him away.

“Always,” Cassian counters, beaming. “But it’s not our fault Az is the perfect source of entertainment.”

Azriel lets out a long-suffering sigh, his gaze softening as it meets yours. You cross the room to stand by his side, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“Don’t let them bother you,” you murmur, though you’re smiling. “They’re just jealous because they don’t get this kind of attention.”

Cassian gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Jealous? Of him? Sweetheart, I’d rather face the Blood Rite again than let anyone near me with one of those pointy tools.”

You glance at Azriel, biting back a laugh at the subtle flush creeping up his neck. He doesn’t say a word, just shifts closer to you, his hand brushing against yours.

“I think he looks amazing,” you say simply, giving Azriel a warm smile.

That shuts Cassian up—briefly, anyway. Rhys just grins, lifting his glass in a mock toast.

“To the neatest, most put-together Illyrian in all of Prythian,” Rhys says, his tone light. “And to his very patient mate.”

Azriel rolls his eyes, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Later, you know he’ll pretend their teasing didn’t bother him. But for now, you squeeze his hand, silently reassuring him. And as always, he squeezes back.

-----

The bedroom is quiet save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Warm golden light flickers across the walls, casting shadows that seem to dance lazily as Azriel lies sprawled on the bed. His wings are folded neatly against the mattress, his arms resting loosely at his sides. He’s shirtless, his dark hair slightly tousled, the picture of relaxation—or as close to relaxed as Azriel ever gets.

You sit comfortably on his chest, your knees bracketing his ribs as you settle into your usual Sunday night routine. Your little tool kit is open on the bedside table, neatly arranged like a surgeon’s tray. Azriel’s shadows are quieter than usual, watching from the corners of the room as you bend over him, your focus completely locked on his face.

“Doesn’t this hurt?” you ask softly, your tone teasing as you press your fingers gently against his cheek, angling his face toward the light.

“No,” he replies evenly, though his voice is low and smooth, a sure sign he’s trying to play it cool. “It’s not painful.”

You hum, leaning closer as you examine the faint speckles on his nose and along his jawline. “I don’t believe you. You always flinch when I use the extractor.”

“I don’t flinch,” he counters, his hazel eyes flicking up to meet yours. There’s a glint of challenge in them, though it’s softened by the way his hands rest lightly on your thighs.

“Oh, you flinch,” you reply with a smirk, reaching for the little metal tool. His gaze shifts briefly to it, and though his expression remains impassive, you catch the subtle way his throat bobs as he swallows.

“You act like this is torture,” you tease, pressing the flat of the tool against his nose and gently extracting the first blackhead. He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“It’s not torture,” he says, though his tone is a little clipped.

You pause, raising a brow as you glance down at him. “Would you prefer I stop?”

“No,” he says immediately, his fingers tightening slightly against your thighs. “Keep going.”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you lean over him again, the warmth of his skin brushing against yours as you work. His sharp cheekbones and strong jawline are as familiar to you as your own hands, and you take your time, your fingers brushing softly against his face as you clean every little spot you can find.

“Cassian and Rhys would have a field day if they saw this,” you murmur after a moment, sitting back slightly to admire your work.

Azriel lets out a low sound that might be a sigh—or a groan. “Don’t remind me.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, setting the tool aside for a moment to trace your fingers along his jawline. “That you let me do this. That you trust me with this.”

His eyes soften as he looks up at you, the intensity in his gaze making your heart flip. “I trust you with everything.”

Your breath catches at the honesty in his voice, your chest tightening as you lean down to press a kiss to his lips. He lifts his head slightly to meet you, the kiss slow and gentle, his hands sliding up to rest on your hips.

When you pull back, you smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You’re too perfect, you know that?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, his shadows curling lazily around the edges of the bed. “I’m far from perfect.”

“Well,” you say, reaching for the tool again, “your skin is getting pretty close.”

He groans softly but doesn’t protest, his hands returning to your thighs as you continue your work. And though he’ll never admit it out loud, you know he doesn’t mind. Not really. After all, this is one of the few moments where the walls he’s built so carefully come down, where it’s just the two of you, and he can let himself be cared for.

The fire crackles softly in the background as you press the extractor tool gently against Azriel’s nose, your fingers steady and precise. His skin is warm beneath your touch, his breath even—at least, for now.

You’ve just started working on a particularly stubborn blackhead when Azriel lets out a low groan, his head shifting slightly on the pillow.

“This is taking forever,” he mutters, his voice a deep rumble laced with annoyance.

You pause, your fingers hovering mid-air as you shoot him a look. “Azriel.”

“What?” He arches a brow, feigning innocence, though there’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth that betrays his irritation. “I’m just saying, it feels like you’ve been at this for an hour.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. You set the tool down and lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his head so your face is directly over his. “Would you rather I stop and let your pores clog up completely? Maybe let your skin get all rough and dull so Cassian can tease you even more?”

He scowls at the mention of Cassian, his hazel eyes narrowing. “That’s not what I said.”

“No,” you say, sitting back and picking up the tool again. “But that’s what you meant, wasn’t it?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he mumbles something under his breath.

“What was that?” you ask, tilting your head as you press the extractor against his cheek.

“I said,” he repeats, louder this time, “I don’t see why this is necessary every week.”

“Oh, you don’t, do you?” You pause again, raising an incredulous brow as you set the tool aside. “This coming from the man who polishes his knives until they shine and organizes his weapons room by category, size, and colour?”

“That’s different,” he says defensively, his shadows stirring faintly around the bed as his wings twitch against the mattress.

“How?” you challenge, crossing your arms over your chest. “You care about your weapons. I care about your skin. Same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing,” he mutters, though his voice has lost some of its bite.

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning forward again. “Azriel, if you don’t hold still and stop complaining, I’m going to start using a much rougher technique.”

His eyes flick to the extractor in your hand, and you catch the faintest glimmer of unease in his gaze. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” you say, your tone firm but teasing.

He groans again, throwing an arm over his eyes like a petulant child. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re impossible,” you counter, gently nudging his arm aside so you can get back to work.

Despite his grumbling, he stays still, his hands resting lightly on your thighs again as you focus on the task at hand. You work in silence for a few moments, the tension slowly draining from his body as your fingers move carefully across his skin.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he mutters after a while, his voice softer this time, almost fond.

You pause, smiling as you glance down at him. “I know,” you say lightly. “And you’re lucky I’m patient enough to deal with you.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Fair enough.”

And just like that, his complaints cease, his body relaxing completely as you finish up your work. Because deep down, he knows—no matter how much he groans or grumbles—there’s no one else he’d trust with this, with any of it. Only you.

-----

The sun spills golden light across the Illyrian training ring at the House of Wind, the morning air crisp and filled with the faint rustle of the breeze over the mountains. Azriel stands at the edge of the ring, rolling his shoulders to loosen up, his wings spreading slightly before tucking back behind him. He looks as sharp as ever—his dark leathers perfectly tailored, not a hair out of place, his skin practically glowing.

Cassian is the first to notice.

“Well, well,” Cassian drawls, swaggering into the ring with his usual cocky grin, his wings flaring slightly as he stretches his arms above his head. “If it isn’t Prythian’s finest male.” He eyes Azriel with mock scrutiny, squinting at him as if trying to decipher something.

Azriel doesn’t respond, just rolls his neck in that deliberate, unbothered way of his, but you can already see the faint tightening of his jaw.

Rhysand strolls in behind Cassian, his violet eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes one look at Azriel and smirks. “Cass, do you smell that?”

Cassian sniffs theatrically, tilting his head as if deep in thought. “Hmm. Smells like… lavender? No, wait—rosehip oil.”

“Ah, that’s it,” Rhys says with a chuckle, crossing his arms as he leans casually against one of the posts. “Our spymaster smells like a luxury spa. Did Y/N slather you in some kind of serum last night, Az?”

Azriel levels them both with a flat look, his hazel eyes dark and unimpressed. “Are we training today, or are you two just here to run your mouths?”

“Oh, we’re training,” Cassian says, his grin widening as he steps into the center of the ring. “But we couldn’t start without acknowledging the sheer… glow you’re giving off this morning.”

Rhys raises a brow, feigning curiosity as he gestures to Azriel’s face. “What is that, Cass? Would you say he looks… radiant?”

“Definitely radiant,” Cassian agrees, nodding solemnly. “Like he just stepped out of one of those little beauty salons in Velaris.”

Rhys chuckles, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “You know, I bet Y/N has a standing appointment for him every Sunday night. Blackheads, moisturizers, maybe even a face mask.”

Azriel finally sighs, his shadows curling faintly around his shoulders as he steps into the ring. “Are you two done?”

“Not even close,” Cassian says, his grin positively wicked. He gestures to Azriel’s face, circling him like a predator stalking its prey. “You know, I think I see my reflection in your cheekbones, Az. Do you polish those, too?”

“I hear there’s a new Illyrian skincare regimen,” Rhys adds, his tone mock-serious. “First, you take a mate who’s very detail-oriented. Then, you let her pin you to the bed with a toolkit every week.”

Cassian barks a laugh, clapping a hand to his chest. “Does she have one of those little mirrors too? The kind that shows every pore?”

Azriel exhales slowly, his jaw tightening as he fixes them both with a cool stare. “You two are acting like children.”

“Children with flawless skin,” Rhys says smoothly, grinning.

Azriel takes a deliberate step toward Cassian, his wings spreading just slightly—a silent warning. “Keep talking, and we’ll see how flawless your face is after I plant it in the dirt.”

Cassian, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. He just laughs again, his broad shoulders shaking as he squares off with Azriel. “Oh, come on, Az. We’re just appreciating the effort. You’re putting the rest of us to shame.”

“I don’t need to try to put you to shame,” Azriel deadpans, his tone as dry as the Illyrian steppes.

Rhys snickers, stepping into the ring with a casual wave of his hand. “All right, let’s not bruise Cassian’s ego too much, Az. You know how fragile it is.”

“Fragile?” Cassian scoffs, but before he can launch into a tirade, Azriel moves—swift and lethal, sweeping Cassian’s legs out from under him in a single, fluid motion.

Cassian hits the ground with a grunt, glaring up at Azriel as he props himself up on his elbows. “You’re in a mood today.”

“Maybe it’s the rosehip oil,” Azriel replies dryly, offering the faintest smirk before turning to face Rhys. “Your turn, High Lord.”

Rhys laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Oh, I’m not about to mess with someone who just spent the night being pampered by his mate. You’re clearly in top form.”

Azriel doesn’t respond, but as the three of them settle into training, you can’t help but notice the slight upward twitch of his lips, barely there but unmistakable. Because as much as he complains about their teasing, a part of him doesn’t mind. After all, it’s not every day he gets to keep them on their toes—and he’s more than happy to remind them why he’s still the spymaster of the Night Court.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Since' I'm vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You never expected it to be like this.  

It’s still surreal to you. The frigid halls, the concrete walls, and the bulletproof barrier between you and your own brother. Despite all those troubled years, of him being lost, you just never could think he’d end up here.

On the other side of a window; where you can’t hug him, you can’t hold his hand, you can’t even poke him for being the annoying the little brother. You can only stare at him and grieve. You try not to show it. You try to be strong for him. Maybe it’s a lesson. 

You wait for the guards to bring him as you sit in the stiff chair. As you think past to the days when you and Vaughn were just kids, when his antics were harmless, it’s all so distorted. Like a dream. Like it never was. 

You remember pushing him in the swing at the park, laughing with him about jumping in puddles, but then there are the other scenes stuck on replay. The boys teasing him until he hit them. Until he held them down and filled their mouths with rocks. He wasn’t violent then, not in your mind, he was just protecting himself. Now you see, that was only the beginning of a twisted road. 

The door on the other side opens and closes. You look up and lean in, trying to see around the walls of the booth. Other inmates sit along the row, facing their own loved ones, soaking up those few minutes they can. 

Vaughn is shoved into the seat across from you. The guard hooks the chain of his coughs to the desk and pats his shoulder with an unheard warning. You sit up and grab the receiver. He does the same, reluctantly. He won’t look you in the eye. He hardly can as his left one is swollen shut, his nose is split at the bridge, and he wears a stiff neck brace. 

“What happened to you?” You gasp. 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. He hovers the phone away from his battered face. His tattooed knuckles clench. You repeat your question. 

“A fight.” He shrugs and wince. 

“A fight? You didn’t think to tell me when I called? How—the guards--” 

“The guards don’t give a shit,” he hisses. “Just the way it is.” 

“Why--” 

“I did what I had to. Some guys in here are just looking for it.” 

“Vaughn, look at me,” you demand and lean forward. 

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. He opens them and meets your gaze. Shame twitches in his cheek. You’re the only person who calls him anything but V. He sighs. 

“I was being stupid. I ran my mouth and... shit, I woulda been killed if it was for this other guy down in Block D. Saved my neck,” he gulps. “Really, he did.” 

You frown and rub your forehead, “he saved you? Didn’t think there’d be much of that in there.” 

“Huh?” 

“Like you said, the way it is. Why would someone help?” 

His eyes dart away. For all his sneakiness, he’s never been able to lie to you. Still, he can’t admit it. 

“Who was it?” You ask. 

“Who? Why? You got friends in here?” He snorts. 

“Well, you won’t tell me why they helped, so I don’t know, Vaughn, give me something.” 

He rolls his eyes; at least, the one you can see. “Okay, okay. He’s got pull in here. He’s... been here a while. Kinda the big dog.” He sniffs and lowers his voice, “he’s got a lot of friends.” 

“You mean he’s in a gang?” 

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he scoffs. 

“What would you call it? I’m not stupid. Someone like that doesn’t do you a favour out of the goodness of their heart, so what’s the catch? Tell me.” 

“Sis, you don’t get it. You don’t survive in here unless you got someone to watch your back.” 

You drag your hand over your head and sit back, “I know. It’s-- it’s just that sounds dangerous. Vaughn, you said you were going to learn from this.” 

“He’s not the worst,” he says. “The guy, he’s got a code. He keeps people busy so they’re not hanging around sharpening shivs. It is what it is, but it’s better than the alternative.” 

“Still punching each other in the face. Beating each other senseless,” you accuse. 

“Look, it could’ve been worse. You should’ve seen the other guy. And the one who helped me, everyone is afraid of him. I got him in my corner. You want me to make it out, that’s how.” Vaugh shifts and touches the neck brace. “And sure as shit I’m not gonna turn around and spit in his face. I owe him my life.” 

You think. He's right, you don’t know anything about being inside. And you don’t have any other suggestions. At least he has someone looking for him when you can’t. They might even be able to protect him from his own worst enemy; himself. 

Still, new allies mean new enemies. At least, going by the TV shows. You doubt those are accurate. What can you do but let him figure it out. Pray that he does. 

“Tell me who.” 

“What?” He snips. 

“Just tell me?” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I’m curious. What else are we gonna talk about?” You say. 

“Yeah, guess you wouldn’t wanna hear about my cell mate’s shits,” he snickers. “Guys name is Rogers, Steve. Don’t know what got him in here but he can hold his own. He’s like a walking Ken doll. Maybe a bit forgotten but, put together.” 

“Ah, you interested?” You wonder. 

“He’s not my type. You know I’m picky.” He smirks then chuckles only to wince in pain. “Stop making me laugh.” 

“Well, I hate to put an even bigger smile on your ugly face but I did add credit to your commissary. Phone time too. You gotta call mom.” You try to roll the tension from your shoulders, “I won’t tell her about the fight but you promise to call. She’s on my ass.” 

“Thanks,” he deflates, “I... I didn’t mean to hurt her. Or you. Ya know?” 

“I know, Vaughn. There’s time,” you assure him. 

The rest of your thirty minutes is spent trying not to fixate on his bruises. It makes you sick to think about what happened; to imagine him being beat like that. You have no illusions about prison, you’re terrified, and you don’t deny it’s his own fault he’s there. None of that can change that he’s still your baby brother. 

When it’s time, you don’t want to go. The unhook his cuffs from the loop and force him up. You watch him go before you leave, escorted by a guard into the hall. 

You stop by the desk to schedule another visit. You tap the pen on the form as you think. You look up at the uniformed receptionist. 

“Can I get another form?” You ask. It’s a bad idea. 

“Sure,” she’s unfazed by the request and slides another form through the slot. You write in the time and date then pause as you try to remember the name; Steve Rogers. You don’t know his number but hopefully that doesn’t matter. 

You sign and submit both forms under the window. The guard takes them and reviews them with a quick skim of her eyes. 

“Rogers?” She reads aloud. 

“Yeah? Is that a problem?” You wonder. 

“Not my call. Needs to be approved. Even then, the inmate needs to agree,” she puts the forms next to the keyboard and types. 

“Oh, well... I guess I’ll wait and see.” 

“Not saying anything,” she drones. “It’s just... he doesn’t get visitors.” 

“How long has he been here?” You ask. 

“Can’t disclose that,” she rebuffs. “But maybe he’ll agree, just for a change in the days. Board’s the real problem.” 

“Well, thanks. I appreciate the help,” you put the pen down. “Have a good day.” 

“You too, miss.” She responds without looking away from her screen. 

You turn and drag your feet toward the doors. You kind of hope it’s denied. You’re too embarrassed to go and ask her to just shred the form after all. 

⛓️‍💥

The prison calls to confirm both visitations, not so much to your content. The more you think about it, the worse the idea seems. The man is not only a stranger, he’s a convict and a criminal. You don’t even know what he did.

And what are you going to say? Your whole intent is to thank him but now you think he might just laugh in your face. What if you make it worse? 

And you can’t not go now. If he showed up and you didn’t. If he ever finds out it has something to do with your brother, you may have just put him in danger. Oh, why don’t you think things through? Maybe you’re more like Vaughn than you care to admit. 

You drive to the facility. You check in with the guard, they do their usual search, then take you into the visitors’ bay. Your brother looks better than the last time you saw him. In better spirits too. No trouble to report, at least none he will admit. 

Your half-hour goes to fast. You remind him to call your mom, your mind wandering to your next thirty minutes. The guard tells you to stay as they take Vaughn away. You do. For fifteen whole minutes before the door signals another arrival. 

The guards lead the inmate to your booth. You look up at him shyly. He’s tall, thick arms, broad chest, muscled bound shoulders. The jumpsuit clings to him tightly as if they can’t get one to fit properly. His blonde hair is made paler by streaks of silver. His blues eyes are edged with crows feet and his already handsome face defined with the lines of his age. 

He’s older than you expect but no less intimidating. He sits, his posture unwavering, and he stares at you blankly. They hook his cuffs to the desk and leave you. There’s only expectation in his expression. He is not the one who starts conversations. 

Vaughn’s right. He doesn’t look like the typical inmate. 

You wait but he doesn’t move. You grab the receive and put it to your ear. You chew your lip as he tilts his head. He slowly reaches to pick up the one on his side. 

You gulp but can’t find your voice. You stare at him helplessly. You eke out, “hi.” 

His cheek dimples, “wasn’t expecting you. Mostly ‘cause I don’t know you.” 

“Um, uh,” you sniff and shake your head. You fidget with the cord. 

“Take a breath, sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart?” You echo. 

“Well, you got a name?” 

You clear your throat and give your name. It steadies you, just enough. 

“You saved my brother. Vaughn.” 

He scoffs, “you’re that ugly bastard’s sister? Why on earth are you bugging me?” 

“I just... he told me what happened. I wanted to thank you for saving his life.” 

“Saving his—Is that what I did. Well, rest assured, I didn’t do it for his sake. I did it because I can use him,” he leans forward on his elbows, crossing his arms. He keeps the receiver between his shoulder and ear. 

“He’s still alive because of you,” you argue. His constant stare makes you squirm. 

“He’s alive as long as his mouth isn’t aimed at me. Let me make it clear, I hold not kinship for your brother. In fact, I was five seconds away from smashing his teeth in myself so your visit is entirely unwarranted and unnecessary.” 

You’re taken aback. Not just by his statement, but by his language. He’s eloquent. 

“I... so why did you show up?” 

“Curiosity. Boredom,” he shrugs and sits up as he grabs the phone with his hands. “Not much to do in here, in case that isn’t obvious.” 

“Well, glad I could entertain you,” you adjust the receiver then slowly move it away from your ear. 

“Hey,” his suddenness catches you. You keep the phone hovered an inch away. “Where are you going?” 

You arch your brows, “you said it yourself, this is pointless.” 

“You got time left. Might as well use it,” he counters. 

“I’m not going to sit here and be mocked, Mr.--” 

"Steve,” he chuckles, the first time his expression cracks. “Or you can use my inmate number,” he points to the digits across the left side of his chest. “You wanted this and I didn’t let them drag me here for a measly five minutes.” 

“I don’t have anything else to say to you,” you tilt the receiver away and he shows his palm, a gesture to stop you. You pause and put the speaker back to your ear. 

“We’ll figure that out along the way.” 

“Why?” 

“Sweetheart,” he pauses then says your name, “fine. Can I be honest with you? I’d like to talk to someone who doesn’t piss five inches from my bunk, anyone who isn’t trying to get something from me, who isn’t trying to stab me in the back. I thought you were a reporter, I was gonna say no. I didn’t so please, let’s keep talking.” He takes a breath and lets it out through his nose. “Let’s just have a human conversation.” 

You tweak your lips and think. You did drag him here. He stares back, placid. You’re not sure why you stay but you do. You settle in with the receiver. 

“So, where do we begin?” You ask. 

“Why don’t you? There’s not much going on in here. Not anything you’d wanna hear about.” 

“Um, okay, I don’t know...” 

“You look like a teacher? Or librarian?” He ventures. 

You squint at him. You’re not sure if it’s an insult. “Admin. For a clinic.” 

“A secretary. Close enough. You like your job?” He runs his fingers over the desk. 

You shake your head, “does anyone?” 

“I guess not. Why don’t you like it?” He waits. You have no answer. It’s still awkward. “Come on. It’s the same thing in here every day. Humour me.” 

You exhale, “alright.”

What’s the worst he can do? Laugh about the office drama? You think it’s just as silly. And you are the one who started all this. It'll be a unique experience you hope you never have to think about again.

[hazelira]

fries & binkies

As Jungwon stepped into the kitchen, the sight of you bustling around while handling both babies greeted him. He could see Jung-woo in his booster high chair, squirming as he munched on his air-fried sweet potato fries. His little legs swung back and forth, and crumbs clung to his chubby cheeks and shirt.

On the other hand, Jung-ah was sitting patiently in her high chair, her binky bobbing softly in her mouth as she observed the scene with wide, curious eyes. She let out the occasional coo, her tiny hands resting on the tray as if waiting for her turn to eat.

You were at the counter, scooping sweet potato baby food into a small bowl for Jung-ah, moving quickly to accommodate their different needs.

As Jungwon moved closer, Jung-woo’s sharp eyes locked onto him. The toddler stopped squirming and leaned over his tray protectively, his tiny hands hovering over his remaining fries.

“No!” Jung-woo declared, puffing out his little chest as if preparing for a standoff. “Mine!”

Jungwon paused, his brow arching in mild amusement at the sudden defensiveness. “What’s yours?” he asked, his voice calm yet teasing.

Jung-woo pointed at his tray, his cheeks puffed out. “Fry! No, Dada!”

You turned your head just in time to catch the interaction, laughing softly. “Jungwon, I think he thinks you’re here to steal his fries.”

Jungwon smirked faintly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Do I look like I want his fries?”

Jung-woo didn’t back down, his chubby hands clutching the tray as though Jungwon might snatch the food at any second. “No touch!”

“Alright, alright,” Jungwon said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Keep your fries, boss.”

Jung-woo momentarily narrowed his eyes at him before returning to his snack, still visibly suspicious.

Shaking his head, Jungwon walked over to Jung-ah’s high chair. The baby girl looked up at him with her big, round eyes, her binky still in place as she gurgled softly. He gently ruffled her soft hair, earning a small coo.

“She’s much more cooperative than him,” Jungwon remarked, glancing over at Jung-woo, who was still guarding his tray like it was a treasure chest.

You handed Jung-ah’s bowl and spoon to Jungwon with a smile. “If you’re not stealing fries, maybe you can help feed her?”

Jungwon hesitated for a moment but took the bowl from you. “Fine,” he said, pulling up a chair beside Jung-ah.

The baby girl kicked her legs excitedly, her binky falling from her mouth as she reached for the spoon. Jungwon carefully scooped up a small amount of the sweet potato puree and brought it to her lips.

“Open,” he said softly, and Jung-ah obediently opened her mouth, happily accepting the bite.

As the scene unfolded, you couldn’t help but glance between them. “Look at that; your Dada’s got it under control,” you teased, earning a small scoff from Jungwon.

Meanwhile, Jung-woo continued to munch on his fries, side-eyeing Jungwon now and then to ensure his snack was safe.

“Our son has trust issues,” Jungwon muttered, shaking his head as he offered Jung-ah another spoonful.

You laughed, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “I wonder where he gets that from.”

Jungwon shot you a look, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he focused on feeding his daughter.

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

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[200mark]

⌗ i know it’s not much but .. lee jeno

SCENE .. in which jeno turns his living room into a makeshift restaurant for a cozy at-home date.

꒰ DETAILS ꒱ boyfriend!jeno & fem!rea ⋮ ♯ file 001. established relationship, scenario, petnames && fluff ᵔⰙᵔ wc .. {929} 𓂃🖊

♡ entry .. hello again! i had this sitting in my docs for a while so i decided to kind of rewrite it for jeno, originally writing this there was no one in mind and just wrote it as “he” this idea was going to be like a full on date night idea but i like small intimate things so this was really cute idea that i had thought of mid writing. proofread but may still be errors! i apologize in advance.

more of nct dream

jeno had been planning this all week, he knew you were coming by his place all week, so he made sure he kept it tidy, even washing the dishes everyday. the faint smell of vanilla lingered in the air from the candle in his bedroom, he glanced over to his room seeing that it was the only room in the house that was a mess he rushed over and closed the door “well so much for lighting that candle,” he murmured to himself before walking back into the living room sighing running his hands through his hair.

he went out and bought a table and chairs, a white tablecloth that draped over the table which was too small but it’s the thought that counts he kept reminding himself. the table was round and black and it took him a few days to build only because he read the instructions step by step, the table and chairs had been built since wednesday and he left it all set up in the living room just going straight to bed when coming home from work, afraid to mess up his set up.

“should i light these candles now or wait,” he was referring to the candles placed on the table, he was definitely starting to over think this whole thing now maybe he went in over his head. “i’ll light just one since the one in my bedroom is still in there, and put the others away.” he quickly lit the candle and placed the candle in the center of the table, turning it slightly to face towards the chair you would be seated in. 

he rushed into his bedroom tossing the candles onto his bed, which wasn’t a smart decision since they were glass but he managed to get them both on his bed. he went back into the living room looking at the set up one last time before going into the kitchen checking on the pasta he was cooking. 

the knock on the door startled him, he looked at the door then down at his watch it dawned on him that you’re now here and he rushed to the living room straightening up pillows on the couch and adjusting the rug under the table with his foot behind letting out a stressful sigh, “i hope she likes this..” he mumbled to himself.

he makes his way to the door, “who is it?” he said jokingly causing you to laugh “maintenance!” you shout back and he opens the door, “maintenance be looking a little different here” you giggled and without a word, jeno reached out, gently pulling you into a hug—tight, warm, and exactly what he needed.

“you smell amazing,” you said, pulling away and making your way into his apartment. “wait wait wait,” he gently grabbed your arm, turning you around hoping you didn’t notice his set up in the living room. you looked up at him “everything okay?” and he nodded “i have a surprise,” he smiled covering your eyes “trust me, okay?” “of course, i trust you jeno.” 

“it smells great in here. are you finally burning those candles i bought you?” he heard the excitement in your voice which made him smile, and he nodded as if you could see him before saying yes. he’s guiding you to the living room one hand on your hip the other covering your eyes.

“okay are you ready…? i’ve had this plan in motion all week so if you don’t like it you don’t get to eat delicious food with me,” he lets out a little chuckle and you gently nudged him with your elbow he removed his hand from your eyes and placed it on the other side of your hip.

you open your eyes allowing them to adjust to the lighting before taking in the scene around you, “is this the surprise…?” you say attempting to sound disappointed but he could practically hear you cheesing behind your words.

“no yummy food for you then,” he removes his hands from your hips and walks into the kitchen, “baby i’m joking, i love it! very thoughtful and cute.” you wrapped your arm around his following him into the kitchen, “yeah, i know it isn’t much but-” you cut him off “it’s more than enough jeno.” you said smiling and he kissed your forehead, “i’m glad you like it baby.”

after a while you’re both seated at the table set up in the living room, eating your pasta, sharing a laugh and just enjoying each other’s company. “so you really had this table built basically all week?” and he nodded, taking a sip from his cup. “mhm, i usually sleep in the living room when i come home from work but i was afraid of ruining the whole set up so i was forced to sleep in my bed, very worth it though.”

“i almost forgot,” he said standing up from the table disappearing into his bedroom and you just watched him “i know you’re allergic to roses… and i still wanted to get you some flowers so i bought you some stargazer…? i’m not sure the lady at the flower shop helped me pick them out i just told her your favorite color and…” he kept rambling on he did notice you were standing in front on him smiling from ear to ear, 

“they’re beautiful jeno,” you laughed softly, clutching the flowers to your chest, eyes shining. when your lips met his, he was smiling—soft, giddy, and full of happiness. 

“well, beautiful flowers for an even beautiful woman.”

[mywritersmind]

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4

↳ pt.3

summary : Feelings are complicated and you and Lando aren’t a great mix to express them. A tension filled boat that leads to sexual chemistry so thick that you end up in the same bed.

og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.

listen up : ho this is long. suggestive comments!! hope you like part three!!! muah! previous part

word count : 4142

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Boat day! Boat day!” Alex chants while walking down the dock with Lily on his shoulders. I woke up to over a hundred texts to get to the dock with a swimsuit and sunscreen.

Charles’ friend doesn’t just have a boat he has a fucking yacht. It’s not gigantic but it’s definitely the nicest boat I've ever seen. “Uh Charles… you do know how to drive this, right?”

Alexandra shares my worried stare as Lando and Carlos race each other onto it. Kika throws her arm around me and grins as we walk onto the back. There’s four steps and my jaw drops as we go ‘inside’.

There’s a huge couch that turns into a dining area, a TV, followed by a small kitchen. Kika and I hurry to the front where there’s one day bed that shaded and one in the very front that’s for tanning.

Apparently there’s three bedrooms and two bathrooms! “I think I need a yacht.” I say to Kika as we check out the table and chairs on the side.

She looks like a mermaid today, in a bright blue bikini and sparkly nail polish. I’ve taken more of a siren route in dark red.

I’m all for woman doing things in ‘male’ fields, but I let the men figure out how to get the boat working. Alexandra, Lily, Kika, Rebecca and I, put our things down in one of the rooms and make our way to the Bow where the sun is hitting us perfectly.

Rebecca pulls off her shirt to reveal a light pink one piece while Lily runs over with a speaker in a multicolored bikini. We start blasting Dominic fine as Charles evidently figured the boat out, and we start to leave.

The moment we only see clear blue water, the girls turn to me. I’m laid out on the tanning bed, sunnies on and fully ready to take a sunny nap, but Rebecca pokes me.

“So, you and Lando are still alive!” She says the obvious as I sit up and lean against my arms, “How’d it go!?”

I want to tell them everything. I want to tell them that It was genuinely fun and I had a great time and i’ve never laughed harder, but I can’t. I shrug, “It was okay.”

Alex eyes me, “Just… okay?”

I nod, “He fucked up my plan so we didn’t go anything crazy and we got kicked out of a pottery place.”

Kika perks up at this, “Pottery? Did he do that thing like how the movie stars do it?” She gets behind Lily as they start to recreate those weird sexual pottery scenes.

I roll my eyes, “No. Like I said, we got kicked out. Then we just went to the hotel and split up.”

Lily frowns, “Lando said you two got a drink.”

Shit. “Oh right, I went to sleep pretty early.”

Kika groans and falls down next to me, “So nothing happened at all? No flirting, no kissing?”

Lots of flirting and fuck yes kissing!

I love my friends, and I trust them! I just don’t trust them to not tell their boyfriends. “Did you have this ‘couples day’ just so Lando and I would have a chance of hooking up?”

Lily leans in, “So is there a chance!?”

I look at all of them to make sure everyone is listening, “No chance! I told you I wanted to have a fun vacation which does not include you trying to set me up!”

Rebecca slouches a bit, “You’re right.”

“Sorry.” Alex mumbles, “We just feel bad.”

“It’s not your fault i’m single and you’re not.” I stand, “I’m going to get some water.”

My plan to hide away on the couch is immediately ruined by Lando taking up the whole thing. He’s scrolling on his phone, shirt and shoes off.

I turn quickly and go downstairs, running into Pierre, “Hey Y/n! Looking for something?”

“Uh… water?”

There’s a little mini fridge that he pulls a bottle from, “You okay?” Pierre is sweet and it makes me happy for Kika.

“Yeah!” I open the bottle and drink.

“Just that… Lando told us what happened.” I choke on the water, coughing as his eyes get panicked, “What!?”

“Are you- Uh… He just said that you two ended the night weird. We all thought it would magically turn you into friends but I guess not.” Fucking hell he just scared me so bad.

“Oh! Right… I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.” So everyone was rooting for us to become friends yesterday?

Pierre just shrugs and moves past me, walking up the stairs without another word.

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m playing poker with my friends while the girls dance around the front deck. We’re anchored on the water and after an hour of swimming, we all needed to pause.

I’m shit at poker but it doesn’t matter because i’m already distracted by the shadow of a girl through the window.

I kissed her. I kissed her and she’s avoiding me.

I think i’m an idiot but I know i’m not because anyone smart would fall for her. Not that I'm in love or anything, I’m just… intrigued?

“Lan?” Alex kicks me under the table, “What’s got you so uninterested in money?”

I just shake my head and look back down at my cards, “Something happened, didn’t it?” Pierre asks, clocking my weird mood. “With Y/n.”

“No.” She would kill me if I told, and I already said too much by drunkenly explaining that the night did not end well to Alex and Lily.

They would definitely tell their girlfriends, so I keep my mouth shut, “You’re a shit liar.” Carlos says, “But whatever, None of my business.”

Charles frowns, “Totally our business! We all love Y/n and want to know what happened!”

“Nothing happened.” I shake my head, taping a chip against the table, “Drop it.”

Just then, Y/n walks in while clutching her hand, her face scrunched up, “I need a bandaid asap.” Charles stands quickly and grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet, “Your girlfriend pushed me off the boat!” She points to Pierre who cringes.

She’s soaking wet, her hair dripping water onto the floor as she crosses her legs. She's in a red bikini and I think I might faint.

I instantly feel bad when I remember her hand is bleeding and i’m just checking her out. Kika runs in, “I’m so sorry, Y/n!”

Y/n just shakes her head, walking over to the kitchen and washing off her hand, wincing at the pain, “Don’t worry It’s just a scratch, i’m just joking.”

I stand and walk over, looking over the sink to get a better look at her hand. She’s got a cut along the side of her hand, bloody and sort of gross. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nods without saying anything, just turning to Charles who has his kit ready.

I bite my lip and sort of awkwardly walk towards Carlos who’s already watching me. “The fuck did you do?”

⋆༺

YOU

Besides my little incident with my hand, I’m having a great time.

Charles drives us to a secluded area with caves which you can swim in. I personally stay out in the open air but Rebecca, Pierre, Charles, and Alexandra check them out.

I sit in a tube with my head tilted back and my hair floating around me. My stomach and chest are warm while my back is cold against the water.

Someone dives in near me and I can hear my laughing as they jump and flip off the boat. I regret opening my eyes as soon as I do because I catch Lando back flipping off the boat.

It’s one of those moments where I don’t remember why I don’t like him. I suppose that’s not as true now, but seeing him flip off is still hot as hell.

I end up dunking and swimming back to the boat, sitting on the back where my feet dangle in the water. I know Lando’s the one walking down and sitting next to me before I see him.

“Hey.” He sounds nervous and quick.

“Hi.” I stand and walk up the stairs, screwing up my face and mentally yelling at myself. I hide in the kitchen, grabbing some fruit before venturing out to sit with Lily and Alex.

They’re all cuddled up and giggling so I spare them my company and sit at the table on the side of the boat.

The music is quiet and I can hear my friends talking across the boat. I bite into a strawberry and stare at the water below.

My anxiety is through the roof and i’m on a boat in fucking turkey. I’m annoyed that Lando just being near me is making me on edge.

As if he heard me, his head pokes out from behind the door, his hair wet and his eyes shining. “We’re gonna take off soon. Might wanna hold on cause of Charles’ driving.”

“Ok.” It’s like I can’t control my feet. I just stand and walk past him, giving him a quick smile and leaving him.

I then interrupt Alex and Lily, loudly stepping down the steps so they sit up. I hear everyone else getting out of the water and Lily can tell something wrong immediately.

“Could you get me some water?” She turns to Alex who gives her a quizzical look.

“You can’t do it yours-” She gives him another look which he immediately understands. Alex leaves quickly and Lily hurries over to me. I sit with my knees to my chest as she puts her hand on my arm.

“What happened? For real this time, what’s wrong?”

I look up at her, our friends walking past and up to the kitchen. I try to say it but I just groan and shove my face into my knees, “Y/n!”

I mumble it but she pokes my face so I look back up at her. I take a breath and force it out, “Lando kissed me.” And then she screams.

I shove my hand over her mouth so fast that her scream is muffled. We practically wrestle as she tries to get my hand free, “Lily!” She licks my hand and I gasp, pulling it off her.

“I’ll stop! I’ll stop!” She shuts her mouth and sits on her feet, staring at me, “We saw him last night… He looked drunk and completely in a different world.”

I groan into my hands, laying back on the cushion, “We were drunk! Sort of… We had a great day and it was actually fun like the type of thing friends do.” she nods at my words, “But then we were on the beach drinking and joking and he just… kissed me.”

Lily leans in, whispering, “Did you kiss him back?”

I bite my lip at the memory, nodding slowly. She screams again. I lay face down on the cushion as she taps my shoulder repeatedly and the boat starts to move. “Was it like a peck or make out?”

My cheeks get red so she already knows the answer, “Who stopped it?”

“Me? I think.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes… God, Lily!” she’s smiling at me again, “He’s a good kisser. Also please don’t tell anyone! Especially the girls. I just don’t want it getting around or making anything awkward.”

“Of course I won’t! Even Alex, I promise.” she attaches her pinky to mine and grins, “I have so many questions and we will talk about this later but I have one thing I need to ask.”

I sigh, “Go ahead.”

“Do you want it to happen again?” I think I'm going to be sick.

⋆༺

LANDO

I find Lily and Y/n at the front, Y/n looks panicked at my appearance. “Can I talk to you?” She looks at me, then Lily.

I actually think she’s going to jump off the boat to avoid talking to me. But instead she goes for a quicker route, “I gotta pee.” I roll my eyes as she runs inside, slipping a bit at the wet deck.

Lily and I both watch her run, she just blinks and shrugs, “Good luck with that one.” She probably told Lily and it’s making me ultra aware that she knows I kissed her friend.

I settle back inside on the couch, listening to Charles tell a story while my eyes are completely distracted by Y/n laughing with her friends and eating raspberries.

I need to talk to her. She’s got a good poker face when she isn’t blushing and it’s practically impossible to get her alone.

“What about you, Lando? The only single one left!” Alex laughs and nudges my arm.

I laugh awkwardly, “Right.” I know the girls can hear this and I don’t want it to continue.

“So… how many models are you talking to?” Carlos asks as I scratch the back of my neck.

I shift my gaze to Y/n, who’s looks frustratingly good with her back arched, her elbows on the counter, and her eyes trying not to meet mine.

I run my tongue over my teeth and look back at Carlos, “You really wanna make that joke when your girlfriends a model, Sainz?” His face drops immediately and he punches my arm.

Charles and Pierre are crying laughing, “You two really wanna laugh?” They shut up real quick which makes me hear Y/n’s laugh.

It makes me smile and as soon as I realize why, I stop. “What about that girl you were debating on bringing?” Pierre snaps back fast.

“Hey, I was drunk and-”

“Pussy whipped!” Pierre coughs as Kika throws a raspberry at his head.

My friends start a new conversation (per the girls request) and move it out to the deck, Charles and Pierre arguing in french while they drive. I watch Y/n excuse herself and slip inside, and I follow.

I corner her outside the bathroom, her hands brushing through her half dried hair. She freezes, “Excuse me.”

She tries to walk past but I don’t let her. “Did I overstep?” She looks at me confused still, “Because I feel like an asshole.”

“No… You didn’t overstep.”

I groan, placing my hand next to her head against the wall, “So then talk to me.”

She crosses her arms, “I don’t want to.”

“Tough shit. You kissed me back.”

“I wish I didn’t.” She’s not looking me in my eyes and I haven’t been able to forget how she kissed me so I know she’s lying.

I step closer, “Try again, pretty.”

She looks up at me, her mouth pouty and her eyes big. “It was a mistake…”

I frown, “Mistakes can happen more than once.”

“Not this kind.” She lets out a breath, “I can’t stand you.”

“So use me.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Y/n bites her lip and it takes everything in me not to physically whine. “You’re not mine to use.”

“I’m offering.”

“I’m rejecting.” that hurts way more than I expected.

“I’ll get on my knees.” Her hand goes to my arm that’s braced against the wall, her touch is soft and makes me weak.

I swallow and she clocks it instantly. “Go on, then.” I think I'm dreaming, but I’m not one to pinch myself.

I slowly sink to my knees, my hand trailing down the side of her body. I didn’t think she’d say yes. Right here? Where anyone could find us? I’ve never been more down for anything in my entire life.

She smiles, cute and innocent as if i’m not kneeling in front of her. God she’s beautiful. Her tanned leg moves to my shoulder and just as I think she’s about to pull me in, she shoves me back down.

I stare at her from my new place on the floor, her smile much wider now. She gets down to my level as I try to pull myself back up, she pushes me back down. “In your dreams, Norris.”

I breathe out as she walks up the stairs, my view cushioning the embarrassment I feel, “Trust me, you will be.”

⋆༺

YOU

My lovely friends have decided to have another lovely couples night. I honestly am excited to have a moment of peace after today's day.

I get all dressed up in my favorite outfit. A red cocktail dress that fits like a glove, white heels, and my hair wavy and salty.

I’m in a great mood, it’s the type of mood where i’m avoiding everything but am by the ocean so I can’t be sad! Everything is nice and well until I get turned away at the restaurant.

It’s the one place close to the hotel that I haven’t been, “I’m sorry, there just isn’t any table for tonight.”

So it appears that every single person has decided to settle down and wallow in self pity at this restaurant, “Please!”

“I’m sorry, we just can’t have you sit unless you have another-”

I hear him swear before I see him. He’s dressed up too, arguing with another waiter as he sets eyes on me, “Great.”

Lando’s face below me flashes in my mind as he looks at me as if he wishes I was anybody else, “I’ll eat with her.”

“Don’t seem so happy.” I cross my arms, my clutch in my hand as he walks closer.

“My beautiful date.” The word beautiful makes me drop my annoyed expression and I'm lucky he’s looking at the hostess, “One table, for two, please.”

We’re shown our table, given water and ordered drinks, but I refuse to talk first. Lando seems to have the same idea, sipping his drink and looking out at the dark water.

Still, He clears his throat and looks at me. His jacket is hung over the chair, a curl falling just perfectly down, and with his green eyes in the moonlight, he looks like a prince.

“Have a good day, pretty?”

“Are you small talking me now, Norris?”

His brow quirks as he brings his glass to his lips, “You’ve been ignoring me all day, what else am I supposed to say? Would you rather me beg?”

Maybe I would. “I saw Kika push you into the water today. You hit your head?” I fake pity, pouting.

“I must have because suddenly I'm imagining a very pretty girl run her very pretty hands through my hair.” He sits up straighter, “Hm… must be the head injury.”

I thought I would be more upset because of our dining situation. But I find myself smiling as he teases me. We order and he does the oddest thing… he starts asking me about my life.

“I know you. I’ve been around you. I’ve kissed you. Yet I don’t even know where you live.” I’m surprised but should I be? Just because I didn’t like him, doesn’t mean I didn’t laugh at his jokes.

So we start talking. And for about an hour and a half, it’s all we do. We talk with a side of food and a beautiful view. We talk about Formula 1, we talk about my work, we talk about my hair, we talk about his family.

He asks me about my pets and he doesn’t complain when I make a jab at his food which is plain as can be.

It’s the first time that I really believe we could be friends. It’s when I truly see the potential that my friends have seen. “We were too alike.” I snap my fingers together, swirling my pasta, “That’s why I hated you.”

“So you hated yourself? That’s quite harsh, pretty.” He’s finished his food, and is lounging in his chair. The restaurant is almost empty, we could sit wherever we’d like and leave too, but I keep talking.

“No. I mean you just clashed with me because two of the same personality is too much.”

“I think I think ‘too much’. Has me enjoying our date.”

I shake my head, “Not a date.”

“Totally a date.” He winks and I drop the subject.

“I think I didn’t like you because I liked you.” He says it so casually that I almost don’t understand it.

“What?”

“I really like you.” He nods and I wonder how many glasses of wine he’s had, “Y/n, i’m not drunk. I’m just honest. Don’t freak out i’m not gonna get down on one knee…” this makes him smirk, “Or two!”

“You can’t just dislike someone because you fancy them!”

“I don’t fancy you! I just… like you. I like the way you are around me and I really liked messing with you. You’re easy to frustrate.”

“I am not!” He raises a brow and I shut my mouth.

“Let’s get going… everyone’s party already at the beach club. You wouldn’t want to miss your local lovers.”

“Um… are you dining and dashing? We have to pay.” He scoffs. Actually scoffs at me!

“I already did. Come on.” He takes my bag and walks out.

At my request, Mamma mia plays from his phone as we walk down the path next to the beach. I spin around with my heels in my hand and my hair in my face. “Why can’t I live on an island!?”

“Why can’t you?”

I eye him, “I’ll live on an island when you buy me one.”

“Woah- I bought you dinner and you just started to tolerate me… Save the island for next week.” I smile and almost trip over something that hisses.

“Aw!” I practically scream and kneel down to it. It’s a tiny cat, orange and brown and rubbing against my outstretched hand, “Oh my god!”

“It’s gonna bite you.” I just roll my eyes and tug at his pant leg to join me.

The cat takes to him immediately, rubbing up against his leg and clawing up to his chest. I laugh as it falls off and comes back to me, “Cutie…”

I scratch its ear with my nicely done nails which he clearly appreciates. He starts licking my hand and I wish I had something to feed him. A small smile settles on my lips as the cool breeze brushes back my hair.

I look up to see Lando staring at me. “I really did mean it, when I said you were beautiful.” I feel a little sick at his words. The good kind of sick. The butterflies kind of sick.

The cat runs away when someone joins us on the path and I stand with him, “We should hurry, party time.”

⋆༺

LANDO

She left her purse in my room. We were heading back and I had to put down my jacket so we stopped in my room.

She left her bag which explains why she’s standing at my door in a matching pajama set and hotel slippers on her feet

“I need my mints.” She pushes past me and looks around for it. I help her because I have no idea where she put it either.

She had guys buy her drinks all night. You have no idea how much it killed me to see them all over her as if she wasn’t having dinner with me an hour before.

“Your room is a mess.” she says as she tears apart my nicely made bed.

“You’re tipsy, huh?”

She giggles as I lean against the door frame. She falls on my bed and looks up at the ceiling, “Guys love me!”

I shake my head and yawn. I finally find her bag, it’s in the bathroom for some reason and when I come back into my room to hand her it, she’s passed out on my bed.

“Y/n!” I shake her a bit but she only slaps my hand away, “You are so close to being in the correct bed! I found your purse.”

Her eyes open slightly, then she rolls over and moans louder, “Shh!” Then she’s out like a light. I hear her soft breathing and rustling around as I give up and sit next to her.

“I’m not sleeping on the couch!” I tell her but I know she’s already asleep.

She looks oddly peaceful. She looks tan and happy, even asleep on my bed. I accept my fate quicker than I probably should have, “Goodnight, then, pretty.” Flipping off the lights and pulling the blanket over her, I slip next to her and push a pillow in between us.

I don’t want her to wake up screaming after all.

I see her outline in the dark, the weight of someone sharing my bed, and the smell of her perfume I know is going to be there tomorrow. I see her, and curse myself.

She really is beautiful.

[latenightreadingpdf]

First Kiss - Remus Lupin

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Sirius, James, and Peter tease Remus about his lack of a first kiss.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Marauders’ dorm was a hub of noise and laughter that night, with Sirius sprawled out on his bed, proudly recounting his latest adventure with a girl he’d met in Herbology. He stretched his arms out with a smug smile. “Absolutely couldn’t keep her hands off me,” he said, punctuating the sentence with a wink. “Who could, right?”

James, perched on the edge of his bed, raised an eyebrow but couldn’t keep from laughing. “Right, because obviously, you’re the irresistible Sirius Black. Never mind your terrible reputation.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “At least I’m doing something about my love life, unlike some people here,” he said, nodding toward James. “Speaking of—how’s it going with Evans?”

James grinned, his eyes brightening. “Actually, better than usual,” he said, a bit bashfully. “Last time I asked her out, she didn’t seem nearly as annoyed. Progress, right?”

Sirius clapped his hands together in a grand show of celebration. “It’s happening! Lily Evans is finally seeing the charm of our dear Prongs!”

Remus, sitting off to the side with a book in hand, did his best to block out the conversation, though his lips twitched into a faint smile. He turned the page, not really reading it, but it was better than participating in the banter. Maybe, if he was quiet enough, they’d forget he was there.

But, of course, they didn’t.

Sirius smirked as he turned to Remus. “What about you, Moony? Got any secret admirers you’re hiding from us?”

Remus shrugged without looking up. “No,” he said simply, his eyes stubbornly fixed on the book in front of him, even though he hadn’t comprehended a single sentence since Sirius started talking.

James leaned back, resting on his hands, and squinted at Remus with a skeptical grin. “I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet, have you?”

Remus felt the tips of his ears go warm. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Peter let out a small, surprised gasp. “Wait, really? Remus, you haven’t?”

Remus gritted his teeth, shrinking back slightly as all eyes in the room turned to him. “Yes, really. So what?” he said, bristling defensively. He sank lower into his chair, feeling the familiar urge to just vanish.

James held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Nothing wrong with that! It’s… noble, even,” he said, nodding. “I’m waiting for mine, too. For Lily.” He leaned back with a dreamy look on his face, as if he could see her there in front of him, and Remus had to bite back a chuckle.

But Sirius wasn’t about to let it go. With a mischievous grin, he jumped to his feet and swaggered over to Remus, leaning close. “You know, Moony,” he whispered conspiratorially, “I could help you out. Want me to teach you how to kiss?”

Remus’s eyes widened, and he tried to pull back, clutching his book tightly to his chest. “What? No, stop that!” he stammered, face burning. “I know how to kiss. I’ve read books!”

But Sirius was undeterred, moving even closer and pursing his lips in a ridiculous kissy face. “Oh really? The books taught you, did they?”

Remus flinched, scrambling back as much as he could while stuck on the bed, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. Sirius was nearly nose-to-nose with him when the door creaked open, and a voice interrupted their antics.

“Um…” You paused in the doorway, eyebrows raised as you took in the scene. “Should I come back later?”

Remus jerked upright so quickly he almost fell off the bed. He shot Sirius a warning look and quickly scrambled away from him, trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left. “No! No, you don’t have to leave,” he said, still looking as flustered as ever. “Stay. Please.”

You glanced between them, an amused smile on your face as you walked over. “What’s going on?”

Remus coughed, his gaze shifting to the floor. “Nothing. Absolutely no—” He could only hope you wouldn’t ask any more questions.

But, of course, Peter piped up. “We were just talking about how Remus hasn’t had his first kiss yet,” he said with a cheerful grin, clearly oblivious to Remus’s mortification.

Remus shot him a look, but the damage was done. He glanced at you, his cheeks going pink all over again. He hadn’t wanted you to hear about it, of all people. If he’d felt embarrassed before, now he was ready to crawl under his bed and never come out.

“It’s not a big deal,” he muttered, clutching his book like a lifeline. “I was just going to go somewhere quiet to read. A place where they don’t talk about my… kissing experience,” he added, shooting a pointed look at his friends.

Without waiting for a reply, Remus turned and made his way out of the dorm room, his heart pounding in his chest. He was halfway down the corridor when he heard footsteps following him. He slowed down and turned to see you jogging to catch up, your face softened with concern.

“Hey, Remus,” you said gently when you reached him, looking him in the eyes. “Is it true? You haven’t, um…?”

Remus sighed, pressing his lips together. He’d never thought about his inexperience much before, but now it felt like a glaring flaw. “Yeah, it’s true,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a mumble. “It’s a bit pathetic, really, isn’t it? Everyone else—Sirius, James—they’re all so confident, and I’m just…” He trailed off, letting out a frustrated sigh.

You reached out, your hand resting on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t think it’s pathetic at all. It’s kind of sweet, actually.” Then, with a small, knowing smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

It was so brief that Remus barely had time to process it, but when you pulled back, he was frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes and a stunned expression. His cheeks went a brilliant shade of red, and he swallowed, completely speechless.

“There,” you said softly, smiling up at him. “Now you don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”

The sound of voices suddenly broke the quiet, and the two of you turned back to see James and Sirius shouting about something from inside the room. You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I should probably go check on them before they tear the place apart. You go enjoy your book, alright?”

With a final, reassuring smile, you turned and walked back to the dorm, leaving Remus standing alone in the hallway, still clutching his book and staring after you, completely dazed.

He finally looked down at the page in his book, a foolish grin tugging at his lips. He knew that focusing on reading was going to be utterly impossible.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ please tell me somebody gets the reference I made 🙏

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Hi, random thought but YK how in the first movie in Spiderman into the multiverse and Peter Parker was fighting. During the scene, it showed him stopping a full on huge moving machine- so like... Imagine spiderman!reader surprising everyone with their strength 😧

[That is a great ask! ALSO, Happy Birthday Jason Todd!]

《BATBOYS and SPIDER!S/O》 Mini Series

[1/?]

╭╭(╭◕‿◕╮)╮╮ ♡ /|\ ^._.^ /|\

Bruce Wayne:

Typing down the mission report for the Leauge. Batman heard you scurrying about behind him.

"Where... Did I..? Is it- No...?" You mumble, carefully moving a few things around.

"What did you loose." Batman stated, eyes focused on the big screen.

"My new pen, I bought it just to help finish paperwork!" You mumble worried, jumping up on a near by wall as you crawl above. Looking down below carefully.

Suddenly, you hop down, walking up behind him. Causing him to pause momentarily as you lean down. Wait-

"Found it! It was underneath you!"

You beam up at him as he looks down at you from his seated position. Easily hoisting the chair with one hand. Politely lowering him back down.

"Thanks B!" You lean to his side happily.

-

Dick Grayson:

It was supposed to be a simple patrol... NOT fight off a few henchman from Killer Croc!

Spidey-sense out of control, you duck down from one of the goons swings. Barely dodging out of the way in time-

*CRASH!*

A bottle crashes down on your shoulder, bits of glass still wedge between your skin and suit

The air becomes thick as the goons freeze at the loud noise.

Even Nightwing mid-remark, gapes at the wound.

...

Ignoring the look Nightwing gave you, you drag the criminals by the scruff of their shirts to the officer.

Giving them your report on what happend, you shoot out a web. Winicing at your injury, you ready yourself for web-slinging. Before a hands grasps your shoulder.

"Please..."

He murmers hopefully, tone a bit guilty.

"... Fine." You relent, watching him grin as he goes to grab his bike.

-

Jason Todd:

With a pep-in-your-step, Jason eyes you. Seeing your bright smile like he expected, but what caught him off gaurd were the bags on BAGS you held in your grip, walking with ease.

Bruce had sent piles of gifts to your doorstep and mailbox for Jasons birthday. Many items to the point you knew that could make many trips bringing them inside. But you would not Jason even lift a finger to help on this special day!

While most friends, or boyfriends wouldn't let their s/o carry so much stuff. You stated with glee you would happily hold his things!

"Jason! Look at all of this! Aww!" You gush, holding the items with ease as you place them down by his side. The young man's lips turn up slightly, gazing fondly at you.

"Jason!" You swoon aloud, shoving the gifts so you could sit by his side. Puppy-eyed, begging him to let you smother his face with kisses.

-

Tim Drake:

Yawning, you scratch your neck as you eye Tim snuggled into your tummy's side. Raising a brow, you poke him. Laughing as he merely scooted closer.

Sticking your tounge at him, you poke at him one last time before he wakes up.

"Mornin'!"

Red Robin smiles, a bit more comforted with you beside him. He moves away, analyzing his area before noticing the keypad to the cell.

"O-Kkkkkaaay- How the hell do we get out of here." Glancing around the small prison cell, you notice a keypad as well.

"Oh, easy-peasy."

"You know the code?"

"Yup! Beep bo bop!" You narrate the bottons, but it glowed red. Showing it wasn't the right answer.

Smiling, you shove your fist through as the wires and glass break due to the impact.

-

[A little something for my Jason Todd fans out there! Happy bday Jason Todd!]

[goldfades]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 / 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ─ PB⁵

TRACK 22 ─── SO HIGH SCHOOL

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | you've been dating paige for a few months, and as your relationship deepens, the playful tension and shared moments of affection—whether it's her teasing touches during late-night gaming or her sweet gestures off the court—make you fall for her even harder, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. paige effortlessly blends her fierce athleticism with her soft, caring side, reminding you every day why you adore her

─ word count | 4.7k

─ warnings | nsfw (mdni) with lots of plot, light descriptions of fingering (reader receiving) while kk and ice r in the room, fluffy nonetheless! absolute cuteness and pretty light and sweet, slight hurt/comfort, ummmm nothing else im pretty sure

─ ev's notes | the long awaited so high school fic !!!!! and im back in the paige buckets era ! i hope everyone enjoys this as a part of my very late continuation of my ttpd masterlist

You’ve been dating Paige for a couple of months now, and somehow, everything still feels brand new. Each time you’re with her, it’s like your heart never quite learned to stop fluttering. She’s become the center of your world, and while things got serious between the two of you quickly, it feels just right—like you’ve found something rare. Something special.

You sit on the bleachers, watching Paige at practice. The squeak of sneakers on hardwood echoes through the gym as her team runs drills, but your focus is all on her—her sharp movements, the way she commands the court with such ease. You catch her looking over at you from time to time, and each time, you can’t help but grin. Paige grins back, shaking her head, as if she knows she’s getting distracted but can’t help it.

As practice winds down, you make your way down to the court. Paige jogs over, her face flushed from exertion, but there’s that familiar spark in her eyes when she sees you. “You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, laughing as she wipes sweat from her forehead.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“You’re all I could think about today. Coach is probably going to kill me for zoning out so much.”

You smirk, leaning closer. “Glad to know I’m getting in your head, Bueckers.”

Later, in her dorm, the two of you are sprawled out on her bed, just talking. The conversation drifts to your first impressions of each other, and you start reminiscing about how you always dreamed of dating someone like her back in high school.

“You know,” you begin, eyes tracing the ceiling as you talk, “I used to fantasize about dating someone on the basketball team. Like, I wanted to be that person who wore their jersey on game days, made posters, and cheered them on from the front row. But... I never got to do any of that.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, but you can feel her eyes on you. When you glance over, she’s smiling—soft, thoughtful. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, I guess I never had the chance. It was always just a daydream.”

Paige sits up, crossing her legs as she reaches for something. You watch as she pulls out one of her jerseys from a drawer and holds it out to you. “Well,” she says, her voice playful but sincere, “now you can.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Wear it to the next game. Make a poster if you want. Go all out.”

You take the jersey from her, the fabric soft and warm in your hands, and your smile grows impossibly wide. “You’re gonna regret this,” you tease, already imagining the scene in your head.

“Not a chance,” she replies, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I can’t wait to see it.”

───

It’s been a rough day. That exam you’d been stressing over for weeks didn’t go the way you’d hoped, and the weight of it presses down on you as you slump into the chair in Paige’s dorm. You’re quiet, distracted, the disappointment gnawing at you, and Paige notices immediately.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice cutting through the fog in your mind. “You okay?”

You try to smile, shrugging it off. “Yeah, just... had a bad exam. It’s fine.”

But Paige knows you better than that.

She doesn’t push, just crosses the room with that easy grace she always has, sitting down beside you. Her presence alone feels like a comfort, like a steadying force in the middle of your chaos. She reaches for your hand, her fingers warm as they intertwine with yours.

“Talk to me, baby.” She says gently.

You sigh, running your free hand through your hair. “I just—I don’t know. I thought I had it. I studied, I worked so hard, and still… it wasn’t enough.” Your voice cracks a little at the end, and you hate how vulnerable it sounds, how it feels like everything you’ve been holding together is coming undone in front of her.

Paige shifts closer, her hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “I get it,” she murmurs, her tone soft but strong. “But one bad exam doesn’t change anything. You’re still amazing, and you’re still working your ass off. You’re going to be okay.”

Her words settle over you like a blanket, warm and steady, but it’s not just what she’s saying—it’s how she’s saying it. Like she believes in you so fully, even when you don’t believe in yourself. You glance up, meeting her blue eyes, and there’s nothing but sincerity there, nothing but love.

Paige shifts again, her hand moving to your back, tracing gentle circles between your shoulder blades. The touch is tender, unhurried, and it’s enough to ease some of the tightness in your chest. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. “I’m proud of you, baby. No matter what.”

The words hit you deep, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of her touch and her presence sink into you. For a moment, the disappointment fades, replaced by this quiet moment between the two of you. Paige’s breath is warm against your skin, her fingers steady as they trail up and down your back, grounding you.

“I don’t deserve you,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Paige pulls back just enough to look at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Don’t say that.” Her voice is firm, but there’s a softness to it. She leans in, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You deserve everything. You’re strong, and kind, and... I love you. That’s not changing because of some exam.”

The way she says it, the way her voice wraps around those three words, makes your heart swell. You’ve heard her say it before, but right now, in this moment, it feels like an anchor, pulling you out of the spiral of doubt and frustration.

You nod, swallowing hard, and Paige gives you a small, comforting smile before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, your head resting on her shoulder as she holds you close. She smells like clean laundry and faintly of the gym, but to you, it’s the most comforting scent in the world.

She rubs your back in slow, soothing motions, her lips brushing against your temple. “I’m here, okay? Always.”

And somehow, with her arms around you and her quiet reassurances in your ear, the weight on your chest feels lighter. Not gone, but manageable. You sigh, feeling the tension leave your body, and you press a soft kiss to her collarbone in silent gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Paige just holds you tighter, her cheek resting against your hair. “Always,” she repeats softly, her fingers tracing slow, calming lines along your arm. And in that moment, wrapped up in her warmth and her love, the world doesn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

───

"KK, you’re so shit." Ice yells, her voice cutting through the room as she throws her controller down dramatically. “How did you let me get sniped like that?”

KK rolls her eyes, her fingers still flying over the buttons. “Maybe if you weren’t running out in the open like a sitting duck, you’d be alive.”

Laughter erupts from the room, Paige chuckling beside you as her character jumps off a cliff in-game to make a quick escape. You sit close to her, legs tucked up under a blanket the two of you are sharing, your shoulder pressed against hers. The warmth of the blanket is nothing compared to the heat radiating between you, especially with how Paige’s arm occasionally brushes against yours, each touch sparking something that neither of you has addressed yet.

Paige lets out a low groan as her avatar gets eliminated. “Ugh, we’re so cooked.”

“You mean you’re cooked,” Ice teases, grinning as she watches the screen. “You keep getting distracted.”

You catch Paige’s eyes flicker toward you for a split second before she responds. “Whatever.”

Her teammates continue talking trash, but you barely hear them. Your focus has shifted, drawn completely to the way Paige leans just a little closer under the blanket, her thigh brushing against yours. It’s such a small, innocent touch, but it sends a shiver down your spine. The game blares from the screen, but all you can think about is how warm her skin feels against you, how every accidental nudge feels deliberate.

You shift slightly, adjusting the blanket, and in doing so, your fingers graze the side of her leg. Paige freezes for a split second, her hand still hovering over the controller, but then she clears her throat, refocusing on the screen in front of her. You glance at her from the corner of your eye and catch the slightest smirk playing on her lips.

“Okay, okay, I’m going full beast mode now,” Paige says, her voice low but filled with a new kind of energy. She’s leaning forward a little, but not enough to break the connection between you two. Her elbow brushes against your side again, and this time, it feels intentional.

KK, still playing, laughs. “Paige, you’re always full beast mode. You just suck tonight.”

“Shut up,” Paige mutters, her concentration slipping again as her fingers falter over the controls. She shifts back against the couch, her body pressing closer to yours, the tension between you almost tangible now. Her hand, resting on her lap, is so close to yours that you can feel the faintest brush of her knuckles.

You bite your lip, trying to stay focused on the game, or at least pretending to, but all you can feel is her presence, the way her body seems to gravitate toward yours. The noise of the room fades, the sounds of Ice and KK's bickering becoming background chatter as your attention zeroes in on Paige.

She’s pretending like she’s completely immersed in the game, but you know better. Her eyes flicker toward you again, the slightest glance, and her leg presses a little more firmly against yours, a silent acknowledgment of what’s brewing between you. The blanket covering you feels like it’s trapping heat, your heart beating faster, and you wonder if Paige can feel it too.

Without thinking, you shift again, this time allowing your fingers to brush more deliberately against her thigh. Paige’s breath hitches, almost imperceptibly, and she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into the touch, her fingers tightening around the controller for a moment before she exhales slowly, the tension between you both crackling like static.

KK and Ice are still yelling about something on the screen, but you and Paige are in your own little bubble now. The blanket has become a shield, a cover for the way her pinky brushes against yours, so subtle but charged with meaning. You steal a glance at her face and see the way her lips part, her focus entirely split between the game and you now.

Paige shifts again, and this time, her knee nudges yours beneath the blanket. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes flicker toward you once more, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a barely-there smile. There’s a challenge in her eyes, something playful but undeniably electric.

"Nice shot, P!" KK shouts suddenly, breaking the moment for just a second. Paige barely reacts, just lets out a breathy laugh, and you can tell she’s trying not to get too lost in the moment with you sitting so close.

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Paige says, still distracted, her eyes darting to yours as her pinky hooks slightly around yours, hidden beneath the blanket.

The tension between you is thick now, unspoken but undeniable. The game continues on the screen, but neither of you is paying attention anymore. All you can think about is the heat radiating from her body, the way her touch lingers on yours like it’s the only thing grounding you both in this moment. The air feels heavy with something unspoken, something waiting to be acknowledged.

Your breath catches, and you wonder if she’s going to make a move or if she’s waiting for you to. The game blares on, Ice and KK oblivious, but for you and Paige, everything else has faded into the background.

As the game continues to play out on the screen, Paige’s hand slowly slips from where it’s resting on her lap, her fingers brushing against your thigh under the blanket. At first, the touch is light, almost casual, but you feel a spark shoot through you the moment her fingertips make contact with your skin. It sends your heart into overdrive, your breath catching in your throat as she presses her hand more firmly against you.

Neither of you speaks, but you can feel the weight of what’s happening between you.

Paige’s fingers begin to trace slow, deliberate patterns along your thigh, her touch warm and teasing. The movement is subtle, careful to avoid drawing attention from KK and Ice, who are still caught up in their game, oblivious to the tension building just inches away from them.

Your body tenses for a moment, a mix of anticipation and excitement making it hard to focus on anything but the sensation of Paige’s hand. She keeps her eyes fixed on the screen, her face perfectly composed, but there’s a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, like she’s fully aware of the effect she’s having on you.

Her hand moves higher, inch by inch, fingers trailing upward with agonizing slowness. You bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but the closer her hand gets to your warmth, the harder it becomes to maintain your composure. The heat between you grows, thick and undeniable, and you feel your body instinctively shifting closer to hers, wanting more of her touch.

Paige’s hand pauses just above your shorts, her thumb rubbing small circles against your skin, testing the waters. She doesn’t look at you, but the tension between you both is palpable, her fingers creeping higher as the blanket shields you from prying eyes. Your breath hitches, and you can’t help but glance down, watching the way her hand moves slowly, possessively.

“Paige,” you murmur softly, barely above a whisper, your voice shaky with the building tension.

She finally turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment, dark and full of something that makes your stomach flip.

Her lips twitch into a small, teasing smile as her fingers slide just a bit higher, dangerously close to your underwear now. “Shh, can you be quiet for me?” she whispers back, her voice low and laced with amusement, like she’s enjoying this game more than the one on the screen.

Your pulse races as you nod, your skin tingling under her touch, and the blanket feels impossibly heavy now. Paige’s fingers linger at the edge of your thigh, just shy of where you want her to go, her hand warm and steady, teasing you.

The room around you feels like a distant blur, KK and Ice’s laughter barely registering in your ears as all your focus narrows down to the way Paige’s hand feels against your thigh. Every second drags on, the slow burn of anticipation making your heart pound in your chest. You shift slightly, your leg brushing against hers, and the movement draws a soft hum from her, her thumb pressing just a little harder into your skin.

You can’t help it—the tension between you both is too thick, too intoxicating. Paige’s hand moves higher again, her fingers creeping closer and closer, sending a rush of heat through you. You swallow hard, your breath coming quicker now, and she glances at you from the corner of her eye, her smirk deepening.

Her hand stills, fingers resting just shy of where you’re aching for her to touch, and she leans in ever so slightly, her lips close to your ear as she whispers, “You okay?”

The teasing lilt in her voice makes your pulse race even faster, and you nod, barely able to form a coherent thought with the way she’s making you feel. “Yeah,” you breathe out, your voice shaky.

Just as the word left your mouth, Paige slid her hands all the way up to your clothed pussy. Your breath hitched, head falling back on the couch. Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she averts her gaze back to the game.

Then, she slowly moves your underwear out of the way and dips her finger in your wet cunt. You let out a gasp, causing KK to glance toward you and Paige.

“You okay, Y/N?” KK asks.

You quickly clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure as KK’s eyes shift from the screen to the two of you. Paige’s hand immediately stills but she doesn’t move it away, her fingers warm and firm inside of you.

You feel your pulse pounding in your ears, the rush of heat in your cheeks impossible to hide. “Yeah, I’m good,” you manage to say, forcing a smile. “Just… uh, got a little startled by the game.”

KK narrows her eyes for a second, glancing between you and Paige but doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. She shrugs and turns back to her screen. “You’re not even playing, Y/N. How are you getting scared?”

Ice laughs, chiming in without looking away from the screen. “Right? You’re just over there chilling while Paige’s getting absolutely wrecked.”

You let out a nervous laugh, the tension in your chest winding even tighter as Paige's finger begins moving deeper inside of you, biting your lip to stifle your sounds. You’re trying your hardest to act casual, but Paige is making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Paige leans a little closer to you, her voice low and teasing as she speaks just for you to hear. “See what you do to me?” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear.

Your stomach flips, the sensation of her words paired with the way her finger is still inside you, making it harder to keep your breathing steady. Your heart is hammering, and all you can think about is where her fingers are, how much you want them to keep moving.

As if she was reading your thoughts, she began moving her finger in and out of you slowly, making you let out a sharp gasp before covering it with a cough. You glare at Paige, trying to gauge how much of this is intentional and how much of it is just her toying with you. The playful glint in her eyes tells you everything. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s enjoying every second of it. Paige’s lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, her gaze dipping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before she pulls back slightly, pretending to refocus on the game.

“You good, baby?”

“Shut up,” you mumble back as Paige raises her eyebrows, her finger stopping.

“Oh really?” Paige mumbles before you sigh, looking at her again with pleading eyes.

Ice, oblivious to the simmering tension between you and Paige, shouts as her character takes another hit. “Come on, Paige! You’re supposed to be carrying us right now!”

Paige chuckles, leaning back into the couch, but her finger doesn't leave you. If anything, her finger curl just a bit, and she casts you a quick glance from the corner of her eye. You shift under the blanket, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself, but the way she’s touching you makes your body buzz. She finally begins moving her finger in and out of you again, her movements sharp and increasing in speed.

“You okay over there?” Paige asks again, her voice low and intimate, sending another rush of heat through you. Her question is laced with double meaning, and she knows it.

You bite your lip, glancing toward KK and Ice, who are still fully engrossed in the game, before whispering back, “I’m not so sure.”

Paige’s smirk grows wider, her finger practically slamming into you at this point. “You don’t look okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out another quiet sigh. You're glad that KK and Ice are so engrossed or else, you both would've gotten caught so quick. Paige added another finger into your wetness, practically fucking you at this point. You felt that familiar knot in your lower stomach, your thighs squeezing together─however, Paige's hand forces them open.

Just as the knot snaps, Ice’s loud shout suddenly breaks through the moment. “YES! Finally got that dub!”

You were breathing heavily as you came down from the high, your head falling back onto the couch in exhaustion. KK and Ice cheers, the room filled with excited energy, and Paige finally pulls her fingers away, the absence of her touch leaving your skin tingling. She sits back, grinning like nothing had just happened, completely composed while you’re left trying to catch your breath.

“About time,” Paige laughs, tossing her controller onto the table. She stretches, her arm casually draping across the back of the couch behind you as the others celebrate their win. Her fingers brush lightly against your shoulder, and you glance at her, your heart still racing, as she gives you a subtle wink.

───

The day of the game arrives, and the energy around campus feels electric. You've been anticipating this for days, ever since Paige handed you her jersey and encouraged you to go all out. You weren't sure if she was serious at first, but when you saw the glint of excitement in her eyes, you knew she meant it.

So, you spent the night before working on a poster, trying to make it perfect. The bold letters of her name stand out against the glittering background, and you added a few extra touches—hearts, basketball doodles, a playful nickname you call her when no one’s listening that she swears she hated (her blushing pink cheeks beg to differ).

Now, you’re standing in front of the mirror, her jersey slipping over your shoulders, fitting perfectly. It’s loose and comfortable, and the weight of it feels significant—like you’re carrying a part of her with you. You smooth it out, glancing at your reflection. The deep blue of the fabric contrasts against your skin, and the bold “BUECKERS” across the back makes you feel like you’re stepping into a role you were always meant to play. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in your chest.

When you finally make your way to the gym, the crowd is already forming, a sea of people moving toward the bleachers. You clutch the poster in your hands, trying to keep it from bending as you navigate through the packed hallways. With each step, your anticipation builds, thinking about how Paige will react when she sees you. You find a spot close to the front, just behind the benches, and settle in, your fingers gripping the edge of the poster as you wait for the game to begin.

The gym fills quickly, the hum of conversations mixing with the squeak of shoes and the sharp dribble of basketballs on hardwood. You scan the court, searching for her, and then—there she is. Paige steps onto the floor with her team for warmups, her long stride purposeful, her gaze focused. She’s all business right now, the way she always is before a game, completely locked in.

You catch her looking up into the stands, scanning the crowd, and then her eyes find yours. Even from a distance, you can see the instant change in her expression. Her lips twitch into a grin, her eyes lighting up like the sun breaking through clouds. You hold up the poster, and the smile that spreads across her face is worth every second you spent making it.

Paige stops in the middle of the court, her teammates laughing and calling her name, but she’s not paying attention to any of them. She’s looking at you. For a second, it’s like the entire gym falls away, and it’s just the two of you in that moment—her in her uniform, her jersey number flashing as she moves, and you in the stands, proudly wearing her name on your back. You lift the poster higher, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt, and she shakes her head, laughing as she mouths something to you.

You think she says, you're crazy, but the look on her face says otherwise. She’s completely smitten, and it shows in every inch of her expression.

Warmups end, and the game is about to start. The lights in the gym dim slightly, and the crowd roars as the players take their positions on the court. Your heart pounds in your chest, excitement thrumming through your veins. You’ve been to her games before, but this time feels different. This time, you’re not just a spectator. You’re part of it—you’re part of her.

As the game progresses, you cheer louder than you ever have, your voice raw from shouting her name, your arms aching from holding up the poster for so long. But none of that matters. You’re so caught up in the game, in every pass, every shot, every steal Paige makes. She’s everywhere, weaving through defenders like it’s second nature, sinking threes with that effortless precision she’s known for. The crowd chants her name, but you swear she’s only hearing yours.

At halftime, the teams gather at the benches, and Paige catches your eye again. She’s breathless, sweat dripping down her face, but she winks at you before grabbing her water bottle. That one little gesture sends a wave of warmth through you, and you know, without a doubt, that she’s been playing this hard, this fiercely, for you.

When the final buzzer sounds and her team wins, the gym erupts into cheers, but your focus is still on her. Paige is swarmed by her teammates, hugs and high-fives flying in every direction, but her eyes are searching for you. When she finally breaks free from the crowd, she jogs over to the stands, and without hesitation, she makes a beeline for you.

You can barely react before she reaches up, grabbing the front of the bleachers and pulling herself up effortlessly to where you are. She’s panting, still glowing from the win, but she’s grinning like she’s just won the lottery.

“You wore it,” she says, her voice breathless but full of joy.

You hold out your arms, letting her take in the sight of you in her jersey, the poster still clutched in one hand. “Of course I did.”

Paige shakes her head, leaning closer until her forehead is pressed against yours. She smells like sweat and adrenaline, and you can feel the heat radiating off of her, but none of that matters. It’s just the two of you again, in this tiny bubble where nothing else exists.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she murmurs, her hand slipping to the back of your neck, fingers tracing lightly against your skin.

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though your heart is racing. “Well, I had to show up for my girl, didn’t I?”

Paige laughs softly, the sound low and warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love it.”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her smile softening, and there’s something tender in the way she looks at you that makes your breath catch. “Yeah,” she whispers, brushing her lips against your cheek. “I really do.”

In that moment, with her jersey clinging to your back, her arms wrapped around you, and the crowd still buzzing with excitement around you, everything feels right. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—by her side, both of you wrapped in the kind of love that makes everything else fade into the background.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[bluelavendre]

Title: "Suga's Home"

Myg x Reader

The gentle hum of a camera rolling and the subtle murmurs of the production crew signaled the start of another episode of "Suga’s Home." The cozy atmosphere of Min Yoongi and his family’s home was captured in warm lighting, the sound of soft piano notes lingering in the background. Today’s episode was a special one—one that ARMY had been eagerly waiting for.

The camera panned to Yoongi, clad in comfortable loungewear, seated on the couch with a warm cup of tea in hand. He glanced at the clock, then at the baby monitor resting on the coffee table, his lips curving into a small, affectionate smile. "Ah… he should be waking up soon," he murmured, rubbing his eyes as he turned towards the camera. "You guys get to see my morning routine today."

The next scene showed you stepping into the frame, dressed in a soft knit sweater, carrying your son, Min Haneul, who was still rubbing sleep from his tiny fists. Yoongi instantly reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before placing a kiss on Haneul’s forehead.

"Good morning, Haneul-ah," he whispered, his voice soft as he rocked the baby in his arms. "Did you sleep well?"

The scene then cut to the dining table, where Yoongi helped prepare breakfast while you fed Haneul. As you laughed at one of his corny jokes, the camera captured Yoongi’s gaze lingering on you—full of unspoken love.

Just then, a notification chimed on Yoongi’s phone. "Ah, the members are watching this live," he chuckled, tapping on the group chat. The show then cut to a split-screen of the BTS members, gathered in their dorm’s living room, watching the episode unfold.

"WOAH!" Taehyung gasped. "Haneul looks just like hyung!"

"Yoongi-hyung, you’re such a soft dad," Jungkook teased, grinning at the screen. Jimin laughed beside him, nodding in agreement. "I never thought we’d see this side of him."

Namjoon adjusted his glasses, shaking his head with a fond smile. "I think we all knew Yoongi would be a great dad. He just never showed it this openly before."

The show cut back to Yoongi, who smirked at the comments. "They’re probably saying I’m soft, right?" he guessed, glancing at the camera. "Let them talk. Haneul’s got me wrapped around his little finger."

The episode continued with heartwarming snippets of Yoongi playing lullabies for Haneul, changing diapers with a comically confused expression, and even falling asleep on the couch with his son curled up on his chest. Throughout it all, the BTS members reacted with endless laughter, teasing, and genuine admiration for their beloved hyung.

Later, the camera focused on you sitting in a cozy chair, Haneul nestled in your arms as you gently nursed him. Yoongi sat beside you, rubbing small circles on Haneul’s back while looking at you with quiet admiration. "She’s amazing, isn’t she?" he murmured to the camera, his voice full of pride.

The split-screen returned to the BTS members, who were watching the scene unfold.

"Wow," Jin breathed, his expression soft. "She’s such a great mom."

"That’s really beautiful," Hoseok added, a warm smile on his face. "She’s taking such good care of both Yoongi-hyung and Haneul."

Jimin nodded. "Honestly, respect. It’s not easy, but she makes it look effortless."

Yoongi chuckled at their comments, glancing at you. "She does everything for us, and I don’t think I say it enough… but I’m grateful every day."

A new scene opened with Yoongi at HYBE’s studio, surrounded by the BTS members as they worked on their music. The familiar buzz of creativity filled the room as Yoongi tinkered with beats while the others rehearsed lyrics. Jungkook hummed a melody, Namjoon nodded along to the rhythm, and Hoseok playfully freestyled a few lines.

Just then, the studio door creaked open, and you stepped inside, carrying Haneul in your arms. "Surprise!" you called softly, grinning at the group. Yoongi’s face instantly lit up as he turned in his chair.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, walking over to take Haneul from you.

"We wanted to visit you and the guys," you said, adjusting the baby bag on your shoulder.

The BTS members immediately erupted in excitement.

"Haneul-ah!" Taehyung practically sprinted over, his hands reaching out. "Come to Uncle Tae!"

Jungkook followed closely, bouncing on his feet. "Let me hold him next! Hyung, you can’t hog him!"

Jin placed a hand over his heart, dramatically sighing. "I think I just got hit with baby fever. Look at those cheeks!"

Hoseok laughed, already making playful faces at Haneul, who giggled in response. "Oh, I’m done for. I need a baby now."

Namjoon gently patted Haneul’s tiny hand. "Yoongi, he’s really growing so fast. He looks just like you."

The camera captured Yoongi’s proud smile as he held his son close. "He’s got a bit of his mom in him too," he said, glancing at you with warmth.

The members took turns holding Haneul, each reacting with exaggerated adoration. Jungkook, in particular, refused to let go, swaying the baby in his arms as he cooed softly. "Hyung, he’s so soft! How do you ever put him down?"

"It’s hard," Yoongi admitted with a chuckle. "But it helps that he loves music. He falls asleep to my beats."

"No way!" Jimin gasped. "We need to test this. Play something."

Yoongi smirked, walking back to his setup and pressing play. A soft, melodic beat filled the room, and within minutes, Haneul’s eyes fluttered shut against Jungkook’s chest.

"Unbelievable!" Jin whispered. "It’s like magic."

Hoseok shook his head in amazement. "Min Yoongi, producer, rapper… and baby whisperer."

The studio filled with quiet laughter as the members continued doting over the baby. Eventually, Yoongi reached for Haneul, cradling him gently. "I think it’s time to take him home," he murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead.

As the camera panned out, the BTS members waved goodbye, still fawning over the little one. The final shot captured Yoongi holding Haneul in one arm and slipping his other hand into yours.

"This," he said softly, looking into the camera, "is the best life I could ever ask for."

As the credits rolled, the screen cut back to the BTS members sitting in their dorm.

"I need a baby, too," Jungkook sighed dramatically.

Jimin laughed, shaking his head. "Me first!"

And as the episode came to a close, one thing was clear—Haneul had stolen not just his parents’ hearts, but the entire BTS family’s as well.

[dramagodesss]

sixteen : a really hot 'a-piece-of-shit' ex

playin' the players

a/n : happy bday to that anon did it for you boo 🙂‍↕️- anyways kinda going crazy writing this lmaoo (i know it's short but miss girl is busy). btw left a lil note for ya'll so it's easier to understand the whole color thing they got going on with the short film— enjoyyy.

the camera’s rolling.

again.

you’re perched on a barstool, the light glowing a deep orange behind you — soft, sultry, almost hazy. extras sway in the background, pretending to drink and laugh.

jj steps into frame. his eyes linger on you a second too long, hand grazing your waist. “you're gonna make me fall in love with you if you keep lookin' at me like that.”

your lips curve. you say it like a dare. “then fall.”

he kisses you — slow at first, then deeper. fingers thread into your hair.

and then— CRASH.

jj’s ripped away from you, shoved backwards.

cue: rafe.

he steps into frame, all fury and swagger, shoving jj against the bar.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” rafe snarls, voice low, dangerous.

the light shifts.

green bleeds in — sharp, jealous. red pulses at the edges — lust, rage, fire.

jj shoves rafe back, voice clipped. “back off.”

you step between them, breathing hard, voice high. “what are you doing here?”

rafe’s gaze is locked on jj. “he doesn’t get to kiss you like that.”

jj laughs, bitter. “oh? and you do?”

your character turns to rafe, eyes wide. “we’re not together anymore, remember? that was your choice.”

a beat.

then rafe says, quieter but venomous: “you can’t tell me this—” (he gestures to you and jj) “—is real.”

your voice shakes, just slightly. “you don’t get to decide what’s real anymore.”

silence.

cut.

liam shoots out of his chair. “oh my god—that was insane. that was—guys, that was perfect.”

everyone exhales.

you and jj step apart, your heart still pounding from the adrenaline.

rafe runs a hand down his face, catching your eye just once before looking away.

and the green fades into black.

but this time, it's not about the film.

not anymore.

oh lord have mercy.

the whole crew’s here — both the short film team and all of your friends. and obvioulsy them. laughter floats through the air, orders get yelled out at the counter, and the whole place smells like fries and milkshakes.

“you like curly fries, right?” he asks, not really asking. he’s already tapping his card at the counter, mouthing your order to the cashier.

you blink, amused. “uh yeah how- you stalking my fry preferences now?”

“just being a thoughtful scene partner,” he shrugs, smug. “method acting.”

you slide into a booth by the window. before you can even pick a side, jj slips in beside you, grinning like he’s won something. and before you can throw something at him, rafe slides in on your other side, heavy and silent.

great. sandwiched between two hot hockey man. yay.

his shoulder brushes yours. deliberate.

his eyes flick to you — unreadable, but his voice is low and smooth. “been reading the new pages.”

you pause, turning just slightly toward him.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” his mouth curves, slow and infuriating. “looks like we’re gonna have a lotta fun.”

you raise a brow. “fun how?”

he shrugs. “falling in love. breaking hearts. you know. all the romantic shit.”

jj scoffs, half-laughing as he drops the tray on the table. “rafe’s idea of romance is like… red flags and leather seats.”

“and yours is?” rafe shoots back, not even looking at him.

jj grins, unbothered. “me.”

"then romance is dead." rafe mutters back.

your fries sit untouched between them, tension crackling louder than the jukebox.

outside, it’s golden hour.

inside, you’re stuck between the both of them.

literally and metaphorically.

and both are very much sitting way too close.

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