#….please ​don’t look at me like that

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I really loved your career day fic and I was wondering if you could do a Shut up mom fic with the same lineup with nanami tho if you write for him🥺 👉👈

Shut up, Mom!

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, mostly crack, cursing, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: I would be delighted to write this anon :) my requests are open, loves. If you want me to write a specific idea, definitely ask and I’ll try to deliver on it! also, if anyone wants to be on a taglist please let me know. So, I gave Sukuna a kid in this one because I didn’t really see Yuji calling you mom or him dad. Yuji calls you two unc and auntie :)

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

“Aoi, did you take out the trash?” You ask your nine-year-old son while trying not to giggle. Aoi has recently discovered pranks, and he suggested playing one on Satoru. You couldn’t help but think that was an amazing idea.

Your husband was leisurely sitting on the couch, playing a game on the console he and your son shared. He was able to see you from his peripheral vision while you and Aoi were in the dining room. He didn’t seem to be too intrigued by the conversation, but Satoru is a chronic eavesdropper. He can’t help it with his technique and all.

“No, mom. Why can’t you do it?” Aoi plays his role perfectly, even throwing in an annoyed groan at you. Gojo cut his eyes towards you two, but he stayed silent for a moment. He knew this was your battle to face, and he wasn’t usually the disciplinary parent anyways.

“Because I told you to do it, Aoi. It’s your chore.” You say, putting on a serious voice as you would if he had really been sassing off to you.

“Ugh. Shut up, mom!” Aoi yells with a dramatic eye roll.

Immediately, you hear the game console cut off. It seems like you two had garnered Satoru’s attention. Footsteps carry into the dining room, and your all too tall husband leans against the doorframe.

Aoi sees his father, and his eyes widen. Your little actor. He then tries to walk off, but Satoru easily put his hand out against Aoi’s chest, preventing him from going anywhere.

“Woah, woah, woah, there little man. Who do you think you’re talking to there?” He interjects as his hands slowly unwrap his bindings from around his eyes, letting you know that he’s about to get serious.

“She’s getting on my nerves, dad!” Aoi continues to play the role, even though you can tell that he’s scared shitless.

“Hey, look at me.” Satoru says as he bends his knees to be eye level with Aoi. Your son complies with his dad’s order. “I don’t give a shit, okay? Never, and I mean, never tell your mother to shut up unless you intend on fighting me afterwards. She says to take out the trash, you say yes and take out the trash. Do you understand me?” Satoru says as he holds his son’s shoulders, squeezing them a bit so Aoi knows he’s not fooling around.

“Because I don’t think you want to fight me, do you?” Satoru questions. His blue eyes beam in the light, making your son nervously sweat.

“Baby, it’s just a prank.” You quickly interject with a laugh as you gently nudge your husband away from your son.

“Yeah dad, I was just acting!!” Aoi’s nervous gaze flutters into an adorable smile.

Satoru rolls his eyes and playfully laughs along. “You two are too silly, makin’ me turn off my game for this.” He shakes his head as he wraps his eyes back up.

“You were like gonna hollow purple me!” Aoi shouts with an excited laugh, and he reenacts Satoru’s cursed technique.

“Yeah, I love your mom a little too much.” Satoru responds with a grin up towards your direction.

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako are coming into their teen years, and recently, they’ve been obsessed with the idea of TikTok. After seeing the “shut up mom” prank all over, they knew that they had to play it on Suguru.

You, of course, agreed to help them pull off their little shenanigan.

“You two are not going out. It’s a school night.” You chide at the twin girls, giving them a small wink as Suguru was enjoying a cup of tea while sitting at the breakfast bar. He was scrolling mindlessly on his phone, reading the news or something like that.

“Mom, please. Everyone’s going.” Nanako pled and even threw in a small pout.

“Yeah, who cares if it’s a school night?” Mimiko chimed in.

“Girls.” Suguru warned as he normally did when you were having to deal with the twins. He didn’t like the idea of the girls ganging up on you.

“I said no. I bet you two didn’t even do your homework yet either.” You carry on, eyeing the two girls as if they were really in trouble.

“Ugh! Mom, shut up!” The girls somehow managed to say in sync. The two had obviously practiced their lines.

The tea glass hit the counter, and Suguru a stood up from his seat on the stool. “Hey. I don’t ever want to hear that kind of language in this house, especially not to your mother. Got that?” He said as he eyed your daughters.

Your husband was a bit of a strict father to the girls. He really just wanted them to turn out good, so he was the main disciplinary figure in the house.

“Dad! She’s-“

“Aht.” He cuts Mimiko off, and starts to walk up to the girls. “I didn’t ask. Apologize to your mother this instant. Then, go upstairs and do your homework. You two are grounded from going out for at least a month.”

“Sugu, it’s a prank.” You say as you can’t hold back a laugh from how angry he got that quickly. “It’s a prank, sweetie.”

Your two girls were nodding quickly, holding their hands out in surrender. “We saw it on TikTok!”

Suguru rolls his eyes at the three of you. “That app is no good for you.” He quietly chides. “Did you two do your homework?”

Mimiko and Nanako exchange nervous glances, and they both run up to their rooms to get it done.

Your husband laughs quietly and shakes his head before sitting back down on his stool. You walk over towards him and card your fingers through his long hair. He lets out a long exhale of contentment while leaning his head into your touch. “What are we gonna do with those two, hm?”

“Love them and try our best to teach them.” You softly respond before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

TOJI

Toji is a pretty laid back dad. He lets you take the lead on a lot of the parenting aspects, since it comes to you more naturally than it does with him. However.. he has his moments.

“Megumi, come help me do the dishes.” You say to your 13-year-old son. He’s in that weird stage of puberty where you’re his best friend one day and his worst enemy the next, which means he sometimes agreed to play pranks with you.

“Busy, mom.” He mumbles at the table as he’s trying to learn the hand signs for one of his shikigami. He was left learning this stuff on his own since Toji wasn’t a sorcerer, and you weren’t apart of the Zenin clan. You had no idea how to do the hand gestures.

“You can do that after you’re done helping me, Gumi.” You say as you turn on the kitchen sink. Your son doesn’t even acknowledge that you said anything.

Toji eyes him from his seat at the dining table, waiting for his son to comply.

“Gumi. Get in here.” You finally say after a minute of him not responding to you.

“Shut up, Mom!” He raises his voice at you, and immediately, Toji is on him quicker than you could respond.

“What did you just say to your mother, brat?” Toji grits as he stares down at his teenage son. Megumi looked back up at him mortified. “I brought you in this world, and I will take your ass out of it if I hear you speak to your mom like that again.”

“Baby, baby, baby, it’s a prank!” You say as you rush over to Toji. Megumi cracks a nervous smile, and you gently nudge Toji back.

“It’s a prank!” Megumi shouts as he leans back away from Toji slightly.

Your husband lets out an annoyed grunt. “You two play too much. Gonna make me kill my own son.” He says as he releases Megumi’s shoulder. He walks back over to his seat at the dining table and smacks your ass on the way back.

SUKUNA

“Ryu, come take out the trash!” You yell to your son. He recently brought up the idea of pranking Sukuna by yelling at you to shut up in front of him. You had urged your son that this was a bad idea, but he was persistent.

Sukuna was sat at the dining table, eating whatever Uraume had prepared for him. Usually, Uraume handled the trash as well, but you distinctly told them to leave it.

There’s no response.

“Ryu! Trash now!” You call out again in a more frustrated tone.

Sukuna is biting his tongue at this point. There is nothing that he hates more than insolence, especially towards you. You’re his queen, and he demands for all to respect you, including his son.

No response.

“Ryu!”

“Okay mom! Shut the fuck up!”

All four of Sukuna’s eyes widened, and he put down his fork. “Domain expansion. Malevolent-“

“It’s a prank!” You shout as you spin to look at Sukuna quickly. Your son is standing behind you, quite literally trembling in fear.

��Yeah- it’s a p-prank, dad.” Ryu stutters out.

Sukuna narrows his gaze, and he looks between the two of you. “Foolish.” He grunts. “Boy, come have a seat.” He commands, and your son reluctantly complies.

“If you ever pull some shit like that seriously, I’m not afraid to start over and make a new kid. I got nothing but time on my hands.” Your husband says while eyeing your son.

“Ryu’s a good kid, Kuna.” You assure him as you walk over to your husband and rub on his shoulders a bit.

“Mmm, for now.” He mumbles, and he nods his head to the trashcan. “Take the trash out.”

NANAMI

Your husband was sitting in the living room, enjoying his “lazy Sunday” as he called it. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful for the life he was living right now.

He had everything he ever dreamed of: a stable job, an amazing wife, a small family in a loving home.

You were sitting next to him, casually rubbing on his thigh through his pajama pants. You and your daughter had been texting about playing a prank on your dear husband, and it was finally going to happen.

“Hana, did you fold the clothes like I told you to?” You call out to your daughter as she’s in her bedroom. Nanami turns a page in his book, still not paying too much attention.

“Mom, I’m doing something!” Your daughter yells back.

“Hana, get in here and fold those clothes!” You shout back, getting a bit more serious. Nanami lets out a small sigh as he places his mug on the coffee table. He’s normally quick to nip Hana’s attitude in the bud.

“I’m busy!”

“Hana!”

“Okay mom! Just shut up already!” She finally yells as she storms into the living room. Nanami shuts his book and immediately stares down your daughter.

“What did you just say?” He asks as he sits up from his cozy position. His jaw tightens a bit as he glares at Hana.

“I just told her to shut up. She’s being overdramatic.” Your daughter continues, playing her part perfectly.

“Who’s her? Your mother? You’re telling my wife to shut up?” Nanami says as he starts to stand up.

“It’s just a prank, Ken!”

“Dad, it’s a prank-!”

You and your daughter both shout nervously, and Nanami looks at both of you confused for a moment. It then clicks in his head. “God, don’t stress me out like that.” He chides as he relaxes back on the couch. He wraps his arm back around you and picks up his book again.

[unheavenlyvision]

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Getting double penetrated by Gojo and Geto, taking them both at the same time. Laying on top of Gojo, head pressed to his chest, unable to help the way you’re drooling onto his skin. Geto behind you, cock sat deep inside your snug cunt, alongside Gojo’s.

Pussy overstuffed and making an obscene mess, not able to move, trying to adjust to the stretch of having both of them inside you. Gojo stroking your back and cooing at you, “Too much for you, sweetie?”

Shaking your head quickly against him, panting out, “No– hah– I’m good.”

Geto lets out an amused huff and leans down to you, murmuring low in your ear, “You always take it so well don’t you?”

His voice sends shivers down your spine, biting your lip to supress the moan you almost let out at his movements and words.

Both of them groan at your reaction, Gojo breathlessly asking, “You feel that, Suguru?”

“Mhm,” Geto cruelly blows on your ear, “You like when I talk to you?”

Your hips jerk, fucking yourself on the both of them, “Please.”

Gojo laughs but it comes out wrecked, “Sounds like you’re avoiding the question.”

“Can’t have that can we?” Geto directs at Gojo.

To which he only smiles back big and evil, “No, we can’t.”

They both begin moving at once, apparently knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Your cunt making lewd slick sounds as they both thrust in and out of you. Feeling so full it’s driving you up a wall, nails digging into Gojo’s chest under you. Breaths coming fast as you struggle to think, incoherent whines being the only thing that leaves you.

Your pussy sucking them both back in, twitching and squirming between the two of them. Using your hips to fuck yourself back onto the both of them as much as you can manage.

Geto pulls himself up, hands gripping your ass cheeks to pull them apart, choking back a moan at the sight of it all. Ruined when he says, “So messy, creaming all over us.”

“Wish I could see– hnn– next time we’re swapping – hah – positions, Suguru.” Gojo rambles out, obviously feeling jealous at being deprived of the whole view, “How does it feel, hmm?” Gojo asks you, wanting you to tell him how good it feels.

Your response is moaned, “Feels so– oh! I feel full.” Tears brimmed on your lash line.

“I fuckin bet,” he chuckles out. “Look here, look at me, pretty,” Gojo’s directing your attention to him.

It takes everything in you to look at him, he whines when you do, the look on your face making his hips jerk and stutter, pace ruined for a moment. You’re all teary eyed and mouth agape, choking on moans that don’t stop, it drives Gojo wild.

“Ohh that’s cute,” A hand reaches up and he wipes the spit from the corner of your mouth.

Geto grunts at the pace change, “You good, Satoru?”

“Oh yeah, just admiring the view,” he smirks at you.

The hum Geto lets out is low and thoughtful, his hands pulling at your ass again, “As much as I love this view, I wanna see how you cry for it, pretty.” Geto’s tone is bright, enjoying the thought of you falling apart for them. His eyes flick to Gojo’s, “Think we might have to swap positions next time after all.”

Then they’re sharing a cheeky smile with each other before drilling into you again, quicker, doubling their efforts to make you insane. The whimpers they’re pulling out of you just won’t stop, and Gojo’s holding such intense eye contact it’s making you feel bashful. Leaning into him, you plant your lips on his in a messy kiss.

Your tongue in his mouth before he can think, a loud moan caught in his chest at how insistently you kiss him. From behind, Geto clicks his tongue, hand reaching for your neck to pull you back and off Gojo’s mouth.

“Can’t have Satoru keeping all your pretty moans to himself,” he squeezes your neck lightly as a warning.

“Mm sorry,” you murmur out.

Gojo bites his lip and smiles at you, “I’m not.”

Geto gives a particularly harsh thrust, one that makes you cry out a moan and your head spin all at once.

The both of them at once just might kill you…

[luveline]

hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 

You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 

It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  

“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 

“Really?” 

“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 

“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 

“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 

“Can I speak to her?” 

You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 

“Lay back,” he says. 

Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 

You laugh. He peeks up at you. 

“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 

“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 

“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 

“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 

The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 

“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 

You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 

“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m talking to your sister.” 

Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 

“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 

Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 

“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 

“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 

“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 

He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 

Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 

“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 

You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 

Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 

“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 

“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 

Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 

[musaslullaby]

Is the princess really getting married?

Charles leclerc x fem reader

Summary: The Princess of Monaco is getting married, but the fans don't know who the lucky one is.

Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.

Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.

A/N: There will be a second part.

Masterlist

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸/

Ynofficial

Description: Me every time they tell me I should go get ready.

Liked by user56, lewishaamilton, and other 948.983.

user43: Yn doesn’t want to be a princess anymore.

user32: Let’s switch places, girl. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Yn, you shouldn’t post these things.

Ynofficial: Don’t be so strict.

yourbrother: I’m just trying to keep you on the right track.

Ynofficial: How boring.

user3: The best princess I’ve ever seen.

user12: This is too funny.

user34: POV: How to pretend not to be a princess.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: POV: It’s not a POV.

user34: YNNNN!!!!

Ynofficial: Yes, that’s my name.

yourbrother: What am I going to do with you? ❤️ Like to author

user78: What do you have to do today?

Ynofficial: Another one of those shoots for something, honestly, I don’t even know.

user23: Wait, you’re doing a photoshoot and you don’t even know what for?

Ynofficial: Exactly.

Ynofficial

Description: At least I have him to keep me company.

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8.483.939.

user45: How cuteeee.

user67: The luckiest little dog in the world.

user221: Yn doesn’t need a boyfriend; she has her dog.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I totally agree.

yourbrother: He’s the only one who deserves to live in the palace.

Ynofficial: I know you love my son more than me, thanks.

yourbrother: I never said that.

Ynofficial: So, you love me?

yourbrother: You trapped me. ❤️ Like to author

user21: The last photo is worthy of a queen.

user34: Maybe you meant goddess?

user56: Guys, doesn’t that dog look like Leclerc’s dog?

user7: Who’s Leclerc?

f1lover: How can you not know? He’s a god on earth.

user90: He’s an F1 driver who has a dog of the same breed named Leo.

user50: Now that I think about it, they adopted them around the same time.

user54: Coincidence?

Ynofficial

Description: Okay, okay, I have to admit I had fun this time.

Liked by user43, checoperez, and other 98,453.

yourbrother: I told you.

Ynofficial: You usually tell a lot of lies.

user45: I love the relationship between Yn and her brother.

❤️ Like to author

user6: The heir to the Monaco throne.

user7: He’s very kind, I met him.

Ynofficial: Try living with him, then we’ll see.

user21: Were the jewels real?

Ynofficial: Yes, and they’re really heavy too.

user6: I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.

Ynofficial: The clothes are super uncomfortable tooooo.

user67: But they’re beautiful.

user0: They look amazing on her.

Ynofficial: I can’t wait to take them off.

Ynofficial

Description: A date before saying goodbye.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 4.784.839.

user21: Who are you with, girl?

Ynofficial: With a human being.

user6: The luckiest human in the world. ❤️ Like to author

user5: YN OF MONACO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

user34: Thank you, Yn.

user1: Whoever it is should thank their lucky stars every day to be with someone like Yn.

❤️ Like to author

user45: So, is she engaged??

user41: Yn, don’t play these tricks on us.

user67: It’s not funny.

user3: I love the dress.

Ynofficial: I don’t, they forced me to wear it.

user56: No way we could afford it.

user32: I wish I were a princess.

Ynofficial: Wish granted, please come take my place.

user6: Guys, isn’t the Monaco GP today?

user5: Oh God, you’re right.

user43: Do you think she’s going to the GP?

user8: I didn’t know she was into F1.

user09: Neither did I.

user5: Yn is the black sheep of the family.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: You’re absolutely right.

user56: That description doesn’t sound like you.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Sorry, too poetic.

yourbrother: Mom wants to talk to you.

user6: Trouble’s coming.

Ynofficial: Time to run off to Mexico. Checo, will you host me?

checoperez: Whenever you want. ❤️ Like to author

user32: Wait, they know each other???

user9: Did I miss something?

user78: What does this dialogue even mean?

user76: YN?

Ynofficial

Description: Guess who’s not supposed to be wandering around the paddock?

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 877.473.738.

gp1: YN OF MONACO.

vroom: Wait, they allowed her to go to the GP??

race: I think at least someone from the royal family always has to be there?

user43: YN, DID YOU MEET CHARLES?

Ynofficial: 🤫🤫.

16_55: IT’S A YESSS.

user2: MY TWO FAVORITE PEOPLE MEETING. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Where did you go? Mom’s going to be very angry.

Ynofficial: Cover for me.

yourbrother: Wait, what?

Ynofficial: Thanks, love you.

yourbrother: No, Yn, come back here, we agreed to stay low-key.

Ynofficial: No one will see me.

yourbrother: That includes me too, right?

Ynofficial: Maybe yes, maybe no.

63_: I love this woman.

user42: Is the car comfortable?

Ynofficial: My princess ass didn’t appreciate it.

user21_: That’s why you’re my favorite princess.

Ynofficial: I don’t think you know any others.

danielricciardo: Princess Yn is a fan of mine.

Ynofficial: You’re my childhood.

danielricciardo: I’m not that old.

Ynofficial: Don’t worry, Daniel, it’s hard to accept.

landonorris: Wait, Daniel met her and I didn’t?

maxverstappen1: He’s just privileged.

Ynofficial: I’m coming to you, don’t fight.

user98: Everyone wants Yn. ❤️ Like to author

81_4: She’s anything but a princess.

f1lover: Please marry me.

Ynofficial: Sorry, I’m a bit busy.

Ynofficial

Description: As a good princess, I have to congratulate Charles Leclerc for winning his home race, Monaco. Congratulations, Predestined One.

Liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and other 42.457.473

f1lover: How sweet, Yn.

ferrarifan: After this post, I’m over the moon.

race_: The Monaco curse is broken.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Yes, but now Charles has to endure at least a month of bad luck.

charles_leclerc: Thank you, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: I thank you, Your Highness, for wasting two minutes to make the post. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Consider yourself lucky.

landonorris: Will the next victory post be dedicated to me?

georgerussell63: Keep dreaming, mate. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Charles has reached the pinnacle of his career after this post.

carlossainz55: I can hear him laughing and blushing from here. ❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: Princess, may I humbly request your attention? ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I always have my full attention on you, Max Emilian Verstappen.

charles_leclerc: No, today is my day, step aside. ❤️ Like to author

user56: Is Charles jealous??

user45: Max asking for Yn’s attention?

Ynofficial

Description: I can officially say I’m off-limits.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 98,457.633.

yourbrother: I’m so happy for you, little sister.

❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Can I be the best man?

Ynofficial: No, you might show up to the wedding already drunk.

maxverstappen1: You said yesss! ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I said yesss!

georgerussell63: Congratulations, guys.

❤️ Like to author

lewishamilton: Congrats, but honestly, I expected it.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: He has the eyes of love.

❤️ Like to author

user44: No, okay, we need to figure out who it is.

f1lover: It’ll be the most beautiful wedding ever.

ynlove: Our little girl is growing up.

charleslec_: I hope it’s Charles.

race: It’s definitely a driver.

vroom: I don’t know; it could also be a prince or noble.

user32: I doubt it, knowing Yn.

ynqueen: Love is blind.

user3: Whoever it is, I’m so happy for you.

user77: I’m going to drop a bomb: I think it’s Max.

maxie_: Oh God, yes, can you imagine??

1_11: The best couple ever.

Ynofficial: I like your theories.

user66: Yn, help us, please.

cl16: Has anyone noticed Charles didn’t even comment?

55_: Strange.

Ynofficial

Description: Goodbye, Monaco.

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and other 757.648.

yourbrother: I can’t believe mom let you go.

carlossainz55: Knowing Yn, she would’ve gone anyway. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: My friends know me too well.

user43: Wait, how long have they known each other???

formula1_: More importantly, since when does Yn love F1?

f1lover: It’s a new thing, actually.

race: Yn, princess of the people.

Ynofficial: Always at your service.

landonorris: Now she’s getting a big head.

charles_leclerc: As soon as they offered you to skip your duties, you accepted right away.

Ynofficial: You shouldn’t talk to a princess like that.

charles_leclerc: And you shouldn’t talk to a prince like that.

f1love: WAIT, WHAT DID CHARLES MEAN???

charlesmylife: Guys, Yn deleted it.

charelsofmonaco: No, I don’t understand.

16cl: I arrived too late 😭😭😭.

Flove1: Finally, we have proof that this man exists.

user65: I was convinced it was a joke.

user90: Secret agents of the world, unite, we need to find out who Yn’s boyfriend is.

user67: YN, WE HAVE TOO MANY QUESTIONS.

Ynofficial: And I have zero answers.

user56: Where are you running to, girl?

Ynofficial: Away from nobility.

Ynofficial

Description: I had to try the ice cream in Italy.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 74.673.883.

yourbrother: Bring me some.

Ynofficial: No.

charles_leclerc: I’ll bring it to you.

Ynofficial: Since when are you two so chummy?

f1lover: No okay, we missed something.

race: Something important.

Formula1: Is that Leo or Yn’s dog?

f_1: The numbers don’t add up.

user78: I can’t tell them apart.

user1: They look the same.

landonorris: Good job, Yn, distract him so I can win in Monza.

carlossainz55: NO, YN, BRING CHARLES HERE NOW.

Ynofficial: Now I don’t know what to do anymore.

user56: Yn is a princess even outside of Monaco.

user09: How cute is the guy tying her shoes?

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[norrisainz33]

New Girl Pt. 2 || GR63

☆ summary: george has a new nonfamous partner who the fans absolutely adore

☆ pairing: george russell x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: had a few people ask for a part 2 on this one so here it is!!

part 1 here

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

mercedesamgf1 has posted a video

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, georgerussell63, yourbff and 154,234 others

mercedesamgf1: asking george all of your questions ahead of the singapore grand prix!

view all 327 comments

user1: the way his face lights up at the mention of y/n 😭

user2: no the way he respects her privacy is so wholesome

user3: georgie is the whole package i’m sick

user4: admin you are a real one for asking about y/n

mercedesamgf1: 🤭

user5: wait i think he’s hinting about y/n getting social media

user6: omg ur so right he def is

user7: he’s clearly so in love with her i’m so jealous

user8: god i see what you have done for others!!!!!

user9: y/n is just a girl and i love it

georgerussell63 has posted to his story

view all story replies

user8: she’s so pretty what the heck

landonorris: you bringing her to padel or what ?

georgerussell63: how many times are you going to ask to hang out with MY girlfriend

landonorris: dude she’s awesome and i wanna be her friend tf

georgerussell63: she said she’ll come play with us 🙄

lilymhe: GORGEOUS VIEW. i’m taking her out next

georgerussell63: double date?

lilymhe: um no , solo date just me and y/n

user10: boyfriend george is unlike any other

user13: ok lover boy

user14: ahhhh she really is in singapore with you omg

user15: we stan our unbothered and not chronically online queen

georgerussell63 has made a post

liked by mercedesamgf1, landonorris, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, yourbff, and 564,364 others

georgerussell63: when in singapore!

[tagged: landonorris, alex_albon, ynuser]

view all 665 comments

user12: he’s so fine

user5: 🚨🚨 HE TAGGED Y/N 🚨🚨

user6: LOSING MY MIND OVER THIS

user14: THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED

mercedesamgf1: obligatory padel post!

landonorris: you forogt to post the part where y/n and i beat you and alex

ynuser: yeah georgie where was the acknowledgement huh?

maxverstappen1: oh i like her already @.georgerussell63

alex_albon: i have no idea what you guys are talking about

georgerussell63: my bad everyone. yes, it’s true - lando and y/n did beat alex and i in padel

alex_albon: @.georgerussell63 noooo why’d you sell us out like that

user16: i wanna take a bite out of his thigh

user23: i hope singapore treats you well george

ynuser has posted to their story

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user7: a working gal ok i see you y/n

yourbff: great first story y/n/n

ynuser: thanks bestie ,, just wait till you see my first post

yourbff: i’m glad you’re finally leaving the stone ages and joining us on social media 🤍

ynuser: lmfao you know i hate attention like this

yourbff: then you fell in love with the wrong man 😂😂

ynuser: i did not - he’s perfect!! i just have to get used to it. working on ‘coming out of my shell’ as they say 🫠

yourbff: you and your shy self are perfect the way you are!!

georgerussell63: yes you are doing it right my gorgeous girl

ynuser: thank you 🥹

ynuser: also your fans are quick i never thought id be perceived like this on the internet 🫣

georgerussell63: hahah yeah they are. i’m sorry if it’s overwhelming darling

ynuser: seems it comes with the territory!! alexandra and lily been giving me some tips so don’t worry about me

georgerussell63: glad you have them!! don’t let the fame go to your head 😉

ynuser: HA i am not famous please don’t say that 😭

landonorris: oh some quality content

ynuser: thanks lando

mercedesamgf1: welcome to instagram y/n! looking forward to seeing you in singapore!

ynuser: wow thanks mercedes!

user8: you are so normal and i absolutely love it

user10: you’re giving all us fans hope

ynuser has posted to their story

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user10: stop you making bracelets and handing them out was the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

user11: you might be my favorite wag to ever exist ,, what do you mean you made bracelets to trade 😭

georgerussell63: blimey you are so adorable

ynuser: so are you!!

georgerussell63: how did i get so lucky?

ynuser: georgie 🥹 im the lucky one

georgerussell63: i’m definitely the lucky one. you’ve changed my life in the best way possible

ynuser: brb sobbing

yourbff: i’m so jealous of your life girl

ynuser: it might all be a dream idk

yourbff: nooo stop

user27: you being so shy and timid yet still taking the time to hand out bracelets with the girlies is true peoples princess behavior

landonorris: thanks for the bracelet! i think it brought me some luck

ynuser: gotta bring george some luck next 😭

mercedesamgf1: it’s such a pleasure having you in the paddock 🤍

ynuser: thanks for looking after me admin 🤍

user12: thanks for being so sweet to me and my friend this weekend!! never change y/n!!

ynuser has made a post

liked by mercedesamgf1, alexandrasaintmleux, georgerussell63, yourbff, lilymhe, iamrebeccad, and 7,234 others

ynuser: life recently can be summed up in one word.. surreal

view all 321 comments

yourbff: absolutely fire first post tho i should have been in it

ynuser: next one you will be dw

user8: the queen has posted everyone stay calm and collected in this comment section

user11: where is that dress from i’m crying it’s so pretty

ynuser: would you believe me if i said tjmaxx?

user11: truly the most iconic answer you could have ever given

user7: you are the blueprint

georgerussell63: your beauty is surreal

ynuser: george russell you are everything

alexandrasaintmleux: stunning 🤍

ynuser: 🤍

user26: starting a y/n fan club as we speak! like this comment to join

user26: NOT GEORGE LIKING HAHAH

user27: thank you for giving us nonfamous shy girlies hope y/n 😭

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated. have a few works in progress that i’m hoping to get out this week. appreciate all of your support 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

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[sleep-0-deprived]

Yandere CEO who is serious and strict but becomes a real puppy at the reader's feet, he gives everything the reader wants and kneels before him asking to be able to touch and give pleasure to the reader.

Yandere CEO x male reader imagines~! ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა

A/N (I did the Yandere as a sub top and I thought of the Yandere being mid forties while reader being late twenties because I thought it fit best anon!) <33

Just imagining Yandere CEO being a complete heartless man to the world, old and cold as they say. Until he seen your resume running across his desk and if you told him of love at first sight he would scoff at you and kick you out but oh my, when he seen the small picture of you next to your resume he didn’t even care to read it because this man was going to have you. The only words he could think of was “he must’ve been crafted by the gods, I bet Adonis himself spent his life carving those lips” shivers went through him dialing your number trying to get a interview with you.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who hires you at first for your pretty face making you his assistant putting you a desk in his office wanting all eight hours of your days to be spent close as he can get to you, being soft and sweet for you unlike his mean and cold demeanor with the rest of his employees. he’d glance over at you typing something on your computer quietly asking “are you alright? Did you need a break, your hands aren’t sore are they?….i can get you into a nice spa if you’d like. I don’t want my best employee burnt out”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who gets you gifts on the daily nearly pouting if you tell him not to, all he wants is for you to cling to him! He’d beg and plead asking you to let him suck you off whispering in your ear “let me help you out, boy?…I wanna ease you up a bit, you deserve the best so just let me give it to you” he’d mumble getting on his knees and massaging your thighs nice and gentle getting your cock out of your slacks worshipping it nuzzling his face into it peppering your angry tip with wet kisses.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who sends you flowers takes you on fancy trips. Sending you to Rome with him when he goes to sort out business you’re sitting somewhere in a fancy restaurant holding his black card telling you “buy anything you want, I wanna spoil you baby..” and by the time he gets back to your five star hotel room all he asks os for all your affection groaning into your ears holding you by the waist bucking and thrusting his hips up into you from beneath murmuring on and on rambling having you on his cock sending shivers through him “oh you’re so perfect~ pretty little thing~ hng oh fuck moan a little louder you sound angelic like that—“ he’d whimper spilling into you nibbling on your shoulder softly.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who asks you all sweetly if he can have you cock warm him while he manages files, pleading just wanting to please you wanting to have you all sprawled out like a happy cat with his chubby tip pressing and massaging your walls just bullying your prostate while he tugs at your cock like its glass having you orgasming more times than you can count pleasing you like it’s his life’s mission “c’mon baby boy, one more for me? I know you can push it out shhh doin perfect there’s a good boy”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who loves your chest, worshipping them as his holy grail sucking at hurrying his fave in your pretty s/c pecks. Nibbling at your nipples pressing little kisses to your peaks using his hands to massage them while he rotates back and forth making sure each one gets the perfect amount of attention “they are so beautiful sweetheart, god your skin tastes so divine” it was like sex polling with your skin covered in the finest nectar for him driving him insane hazily looking up at you with complete and utter infatuation.

[pucksandpower]

Keeping Up With the Leclercs

mafia!Charles Leclerc x bratva! Reader

Summary: ever wondered what it would be like if Morticia and Gomez Addams were in the mafia? There’s nothing quite like a dangerous couple who are (literally) crazy for each other

Warnings: arranged marriage and kidnapping

You stand in your father’s study, arms crossed defiantly as he delivers the news that will change your life forever. The plush Persian rug beneath your feet feels like quicksand, threatening to swallow you whole.

“You can’t be serious,” you spit out, glaring at the man who raised you. “An arranged marriage? What century do you think we’re living in?”

Your father, Nikolai, the most feared man in the Bratva, doesn’t flinch. He merely raises an eyebrow, his steely gaze unwavering. “It’s not up for discussion, Y/N. This alliance with the Monegasque Mafia will secure our position for generations to come.”

You scoff, pacing the room like a caged tigress. “And I’m just supposed to be the sacrificial lamb? How convenient.”

“Watch your tone,” Nikolai warns, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t a request. It’s an order.”

The door to the study swings open, and in walks the very man you’re meant to marry. Charles Leclerc, heir to the Monegasque Mafia, saunters in with an air of arrogance that makes your blood boil.

“Ah, there’s my blushing bride,” Charles drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “I hope I’m not interrupting a touching father-daughter moment.”

You spin to face him, eyes blazing. “You. This is your fault, isn’t it? What, couldn’t find a woman willing to marry you voluntarily?”

Charles chuckles, seemingly amused by your outburst. “Feisty. I like that in a woman.”

“I’m not your woman,” you snarl, taking a step towards him. “And I never will be.”

Your father clears his throat, reminding you of his presence. “Y/N, Charles, please sit down. We have much to discuss.”

Reluctantly, you take a seat on the leather sofa, as far from Charles as possible. He, on the other hand, sprawls out comfortably, looking for all the world like he owns the place.

“Now,” Nikolai begins, “the wedding will take place in three months. Until then, I expect you both to get to know each other and present a united front to our associates.”

You can’t help but laugh bitterly. “Three months? Why the rush? Afraid I’ll come to my senses and run away?”

Charles leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’t worry, mon chérie. I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly ... distracted.”

“You’re disgusting,” you mutter, refusing to meet his gaze.

Your father sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enough. You two will learn to get along, for the sake of both our families.”

“And if we don’t?” You challenge, raising your chin defiantly.

Nikolai’s expression darkens. “Then you’ll face the consequences. Both of you.”

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You know better than anyone what your father is capable of when crossed.

Charles, seemingly unfazed, stands up and stretches. “Well, this has been delightful, but I think Y/N and I could use some ... alone time to get acquainted.”

You jump to your feet, ready to protest, but your father beats you to it. “An excellent idea. Y/N, why don’t you show Charles the gardens?”

It’s not a suggestion, and you know it. Gritting your teeth, you storm out of the study, not bothering to check if Charles is following.

The moment you’re in the hallway, Charles catches up, matching your brisk pace. “So, tell me about yourself, future Mrs. Leclerc. What makes you tick?”

You whirl around, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Listen here, you smug bastard. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want no part of it. This marriage? It’s never going to happen.”

Charles catches your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “Oh, it’s happening alright. But who says we can’t have a little fun along the way?”

You yank your hand away, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Fun? You think this is fun?”

“It could be,” he shrugs, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively. “If you’d let that stick out of your ass for five minutes.”

“Charming,” you deadpan. “Is this how you usually woo women? Insults and forced marriages?”

Charles laughs, the sound rich and oddly melodic. “Only the special ones. Come on, Y/N. Give me a chance. I might surprise you.”

You pause, studying him for a moment. Despite your anger, you can’t deny there’s something intriguing about Charles. A dangerous allure that both excites and terrifies you.

“Fine,” you concede grudgingly. “One chance. But if you so much as look at me wrong, I’ll make you regret it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Charles grins, offering you his arm. “Shall we explore these famous gardens of yours?”

Ignoring his outstretched arm, you lead the way outside. The sun is setting, casting a golden glow over the meticulously manicured grounds.

“It’s beautiful,” Charles murmurs, genuine appreciation in his voice.

You nod, allowing yourself to relax slightly. “It’s my favorite place on the estate. I used to hide here as a child when things got ... intense inside.”

Charles turns to you, his expression softening. “It can’t have been easy, growing up in this world.”

“Like you’d know anything about it,” you scoff, but there’s less venom in your words now.

“You’d be surprised,” he says quietly. “The gilded cage of Monaco isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. “Oh? Do tell.”

Charles shakes his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “Another time, perhaps. For now, I’d rather hear about you. What do you do when you’re not busy being the Bratva princess?”

“I’m not a princess,” you retort automatically. “And I ... I paint, actually.”

“Really?” Charles seems genuinely interested. “What kind of art?”

You hesitate, unused to sharing this part of yourself. “Mostly abstracts. Emotions translated into color and form.”

“I’d love to see them sometime,” Charles says softly. “If you’d let me.”

You study him, trying to detect any hint of mockery. Finding none, you nod slowly. “Maybe. If you behave yourself.”

Charles clutches his chest dramatically. “Me? Misbehave? I’m wounded by the very suggestion.”

Despite yourself, you feel the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

As you continue walking, a comfortable silence falls between you. The tension from earlier hasn’t disappeared entirely, but it’s shifted into something ... different. Something charged with possibility.

“You know,” Charles says suddenly, breaking the quiet, “this arranged marriage thing doesn’t have to be a death sentence.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Says the man who’s not being forced to give up his freedom.”

“Who says you have to give up anything?” Charles counters. “We could make our own rules, create our own version of this marriage.”

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. “What are you suggesting?”

Charles steps closer, his voice low and intense. “A partnership. Equal footing. We present a united front to the world, secure our families’ alliance, but behind closed doors? We live our lives how we want.”

“And what about love?” You ask, hating how vulnerable you sound. “What about building a real relationship?”

Charles reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sends shivers down your spine. “Who says that can’t happen naturally? We have time. We can take things slow, get to know each other properly.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “And if we end up hating each other?”

“Then we’ll still be the most dangerous power couple the mafia world has ever seen,” Charles grins. “Think about it. With your fire and my charm, we could rule this entire underworld.”

You can’t help but laugh, the tension finally breaking. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer to think of myself as irresistible,” Charles winks.

Rolling your eyes, you start walking again. “Don’t push your luck, Leclerc.”

As you near the house, Charles suddenly stops, turning to face you. His expression is more serious now, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“Listen, Y/N,” he says softly. “I know this isn’t ideal for either of us. But I meant what I said about making it work. I respect you, and I want us to build something real, even if it starts from an arrangement.”

You study him, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, you nod slowly. “Okay. I’m willing to try if you are.”

Charles breaks into a genuine smile, one that transforms his entire face. “That’s all I ask.”

As you stand there, bathed in the dying light of the day, you feel something shift between you. It’s not love, not yet, but it’s a beginning. A spark of possibility that could, with time and nurturing, grow into something beautiful.

Charles takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, deliberately, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. The touch is electric, sending a jolt through your entire body.

Pulling back slightly, Charles looks you up and down, a wicked glint in his eye. “You know what, Y/N? I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy everything you have to offer.”

And despite yourself, despite all your reservations and fears, you find yourself looking forward to proving him right.

***

Three months have passed in a whirlwind of preparations, negotiations, and stolen moments. Now, as the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself in the opulent bridal suite of the Leclerc compound, face to face with your new husband.

Charles stands before you, his tuxedo jacket discarded, bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. His eyes, dark with desire, never leave yours as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Well, Mrs. Leclerc,” he drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Shall we consummate this union of ours?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t quite suppress the flutter in your stomach. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Charles. I’m still not convinced this wasn’t a terrible idea.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Always so prickly. It’s one of the things I love about you, you know.”

“Love?” You scoff, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at the word. “We’ve known each other for three months.”

Charles reaches out, his fingers trailing along your jawline. “Sometimes, that’s all it takes.”

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. “Just ... help me out of this dress, will you? I can hardly breathe in this thing.”

“With pleasure,” Charles grins, moving behind you.

As he slowly lowers the zipper, his breath hot on your neck, you can’t help but shiver. The tension between you has been building for weeks, and now, alone at last, it threatens to consume you both.

The dress pools at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments and ...

Charles lets out a low whistle. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

You turn to face him, a wicked glint in your eye. Strapped to various parts of your body are an impressive array of weapons — daggers, throwing stars, even a small pistol holstered to your thigh.

“A girl’s got to be prepared,” you shrug, trying to appear nonchalant despite the heat rising to your cheeks.

Charles’ eyes roam over you, a mix of admiration and desire in his gaze. “I must say, I’m impressed. And more than a little turned on.”

You can’t help but laugh, some of the tension dissipating. “Is that all it takes? A few knives and you’re ready to go?”

“What can I say?” Charles grins, stepping closer. “I like a woman who can handle herself.”

His hands come to rest on your waist, fingers brushing against the hilt of a dagger. “Though I have to ask, were you planning to assassinate me on our wedding night?”

You smirk, trailing a finger down his chest. “The night’s still young, Mr. Leclerc. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Charles laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Oh, mon amour. What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things,” you murmur, surprising yourself with your boldness.

Charles’ eyes darken, his grip on your waist tightening. “Care to elaborate?”

Instead of answering, you reach up and pull him down for a kiss. It’s fierce and passionate, months of pent-up tension finally finding release. Charles responds eagerly, his hands roaming your body, carefully avoiding the various weapons still strapped to your skin.

When you finally break apart, both panting, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “As much as I’m enjoying this little arsenal of yours, perhaps we should disarm you before things get too ... heated.”

You nod, slightly dazed from the intensity of the kiss. “Probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want any unfortunate accidents.”

Charles steps back, his eyes never leaving yours as you begin to remove the weapons one by one. With each knife that clatters to the ground, the air between you grows thicker with anticipation.

“You know,” Charles muses, watching as you unholster the pistol from your thigh, “most brides wear a garter. You went for a whole armory.”

You smirk, setting the gun carefully on a nearby table. “I’m not most brides.”

“No,” Charles agrees, his voice low and husky. “You certainly aren’t.”

As you remove the last dagger, Charles closes the distance between you once more. His hands, warm and calloused, cup your face gently.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones. “I know this isn’t how either of us imagined getting married. But I want you to know, I’m glad it’s you.”

You swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. “Charles, I-”

He silences you with a soft kiss, so different from the passionate one you shared earlier. This one is tender, almost reverent, and it makes your knees weak.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing heavily. “You don’t have to say anything,” Charles whispers. “Just ... be here with me. In this moment.”

You nod, unable to form words. Instead, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you undo them one by one.

Charles watches you, his eyes dark with desire. As you push the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest, he lets out a shaky breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands settling on your hips.

You blush, unused to such open admiration. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you manage to quip, trying to regain some of your usual bravado.

Charles chuckles, pulling you closer. “Always with the sharp tongue. I wonder what else it can do.”

Before you can retort, his lips are on yours again, hot and demanding. You melt into the kiss, your hands exploring the planes of his chest, tracing old scars and feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

Charles’ fingers find the clasp of your bra, and he pauses, looking at you questioningly. You nod, giving him permission, and he deftly unhooks it, letting it fall to the floor.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, his eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

You fight the urge to cover yourself, instead meeting his gaze defiantly. “Your turn,” you say, your hands moving to his belt.

Charles grins, helping you undo the buckle. “Eager, are we?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but there’s no real heat behind it.

As you both finish undressing, the air between you crackles with anticipation. Charles takes your hand, leading you towards the massive four-poster bed that dominates the room.

“Last chance to back out,” he says softly, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

You look up at him, taking in the mixture of desire and vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything, despite the arranged nature of your marriage and the complexities of your world, you find yourself wanting this.

Wanting him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, pulling him down onto the bed with you.

What follows is a dance of passion and discovery. Charles’ hands and lips seem to be everywhere at once, mapping out every inch of your skin. You’re not passive either, giving as good as you get, reveling in the way he gasps and moans under your touch.

It’s not perfect — there are moments of awkwardness, of fumbling and laughter. But it’s real, and raw, and more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced.

As you both near the edge, Charles looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you’re not quite ready to name. “Y/N,” he pants, his movements becoming more erratic. “God, Y/N ...”

You arch against him, your nails digging into his back. “Charles,” you gasp, teetering on the brink. “I’m ... I’m ...”

He captures your lips in a searing kiss as you both tumble over the edge together, waves of pleasure washing over you.

Afterwards, you lie tangled together, both struggling to catch your breath. Charles props himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and wonder.

“Well,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “I’d say that was a successful consummation, wouldn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “It wasn’t terrible,” you concede, trying to maintain some semblance of your usual sass.

Charles raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “Not terrible? I seem to recall you being quite ... vocal in your appreciation.”

You blush, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment. “Shut up,” you mutter, your words muffled against his skin.

Charles chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Never,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I plan on making you that vocal every night for the rest of our lives.”

You pull back, looking up at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” he winks, leaning down to steal another kiss.

As you settle into each other’s arms, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles’ fingers continue their gentle exploration of your skin, occasionally brushing against the spots where your weapons had been strapped earlier.

“I have to say,” he murmurs after a while, “I’m looking forward to discovering what other surprises you have in store for me, Mrs. Leclerc.”

You tense slightly at the name, reality crashing back in. “About that,” you say, sitting up and pulling the sheet around you. “This ... what just happened... it doesn’t change anything.”

Charles frowns, propping himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I mean, this was ... enjoyable. But it doesn’t change the fact that we were forced into this marriage. That our lives are being dictated by our families and their alliances.”

“Y/N,” Charles says softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “I thought ... I thought we were past that. That we were building something real here.”

You close your eyes, fighting back the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. “We are. I think. But it doesn’t erase the circumstances that brought us together. I just ... I need you to understand that.”

Charles is quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on your arm. When he speaks, his voice is low and intense. “I understand. But, mon cœur, look at me.”

Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. The depth of emotion you see there takes your breath away.

“Yes, our marriage was arranged,” he says. “But what’s happening between us? That’s real. That’s ours. And I’m not going to let anyone, not our families, not the entire damn underworld, take that away from us. Okay?”

You swallow hard, fighting back tears you didn’t even realize were threatening to fall. “Okay,” you whisper.

Charles pulls you back down into his arms, holding you close. You let yourself relax against him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“For what it’s worth,” you murmur after a while, your fingers tracing the lines of a scar on his abdomen, “I’m glad it’s you too.”

But you’re still going to give him hell every step of the way. After all, where would be the fun in making it easy?

***

The gala is in full swing, crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the ballroom of the Leclerc compound. You stand by Charles’ side, both of you the picture of mafia royalty in your evening wear. Your hand rests on his arm, a gesture that has become natural over the past few months.

“Smile, mon chérie,” Charles murmurs, his lips barely moving. “The Woking representative is watching.”

You plaster on your most charming smile, leaning into Charles slightly. “How long do we have to keep this up?” You whisper back.

Charles chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Until we’ve sufficiently convinced everyone that we’re madly in love. So … forever.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he winks, before turning to greet an approaching guest.

As Charles engages in small talk, you let your gaze wander around the room. Something feels off, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Years of growing up in the Bratva have honed your instincts, and right now, they’re screaming danger.

“Charles,” you murmur, interrupting his conversation. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks at you sharply, instantly alert. “What is it?”

Before you can answer, the lights go out. The room erupts into chaos, shouts of confusion and fear filling the air.

Charles’ arm wraps around you protectively. “Stay close,” he orders, his voice tense.

Suddenly, gunshots ring out. Glass shatters, and screams pierce the darkness. You feel Charles being torn away from you, and panic sets in.

“Charles!” You shout, reaching for him blindly.

A hand grabs your arm, but you know instantly it’s not Charles. You react on instinct, twisting and striking out with your elbow. There’s a grunt of pain, and the grip loosens.

The emergency lights flicker on, casting an eerie red glow over the scene. Bodies litter the floor, some moving, others disturbingly still. You scan the room frantically for Charles, your heart pounding.

A movement catches your eye, and you turn to see a man in a black mask aiming a gun at you. Time seems to slow down as you reach for the knife strapped to your thigh, cursing yourself for not being more heavily armed.

Just as the man’s finger tightens on the trigger, a blur of motion tackles him to the ground. Charles. Relief floods through you, quickly replaced by fear as you see them grappling on the floor.

You rush forward, knife in hand, but more masked figures appear, surrounding you. You fight with everything you have, your knife flashing in the dim light, but you’re outnumbered.

A sharp pain explodes in the back of your head, and the world goes dark.

When you come to, you’re tied to a chair in what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Your head throbs, and you can taste blood in your mouth. As your vision clears, you see Charles tied to another chair a few feet away, his face bruised and bloody.

“Y/N,” he breathes when he sees you’re awake. “Are you alright?”

You nod, wincing at the movement. “I’m fine. What happened? Where are we?”

Before Charles can answer, a door slams open. A man strolls in, his expensive suit at odds with the grimy surroundings. You recognize him immediately — Zak Brown, head of the Woking Crime Family.

“Well, well,” Brown drawls, a cruel smile on his face. “The newlyweds are finally awake. How touching.”

Charles strains against his bonds, his eyes blazing with fury. “Brown, you bastard. What do you want?”

Brown chuckles, circling your chairs like a shark. “What do I want? Oh, nothing much. Just the complete destruction of the Bratva and Monegasque Mafia. And you two are going to help me achieve that.”

You spit blood at his feet. “Go to hell.”

“Feisty,” Brown grins, stopping in front of you. “I can see why Leclerc here is so taken with you.”

He reaches out, grabbing your chin roughly. You try to jerk away, but his grip is like iron.

“Don’t touch her!” Charles roars, his chair scraping against the concrete as he struggles.

Brown ignores him, his eyes locked on yours. “You know, I’ve always had a thing for Bratva princesses. Maybe once this is all over, I’ll keep you for myself.”

Charles’ voice is low and dangerous when he speaks. “If you so much as lay another finger on my wife, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.”

Brown turns to him, eyebrow raised. “My, my. Such passion. And here I thought this was just a marriage of convenience.”

You look at Charles, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. His eyes meet yours, and the emotion you see there takes your breath away.

Brown claps his hands, breaking the moment. “As touching as this is, we have business to attend to. You’re going to call your fathers and tell them to surrender control of their organizations to me. If you don’t, well ...” He pulls out a gun, pointing it at your head. “I’m sure you can imagine the consequences.”

Charles laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. “You’re delusional if you think that will work. Our fathers would sacrifice us in a heartbeat to maintain control.”

“Perhaps,” Brown shrugs. “But are you willing to take that chance?” He cocks the gun, pressing it against your temple.

You close your eyes, steeling yourself. “Do it,” you spit out. “I’d rather die than betray my family.”

“Y/N, no,” Charles says, his voice breaking.

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. “It’s okay, Charles. We always knew this could happen.”

Brown looks between you, frustration evident on his face. “Enough of this noble sacrifice bullshit. You have one hour to make your decision. I’ll be back.”

He storms out, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he’s gone, you start working on your bonds. “Charles, can you reach the knife in my hair?”

He blinks, momentarily confused. “You have a knife in your hair?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. Now hurry, before they come back.”

Charles manages to scoot his chair closer, awkwardly fumbling with your elaborate updo. After a few tense moments, he lets out a triumphant “Aha!” As he extracts a small, razor-sharp blade using nothing but his mouth.

“You never cease to amaze me,” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice.

Working together, you manage to cut through your ropes. Once free, you make quick work of Charles’ bonds.

“Okay,” you whisper, rubbing your wrists. “We need a plan.”

Charles nods, his eyes scanning the room. “There’s probably guards outside. We’ll need a distraction.”

You grin, reaching into your dress and pulling out a small explosive device. “Will this do?”

Charles stares at you in disbelief. “Where did you ... you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

You approach the door, setting the device. “Ready?”

Charles takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “Y/N, wait. Before we do this, I need you to know something.”

You turn to him, confused by the intensity in his eyes. “What is it?”

“I love you,” he says simply. “Not because of our families, not because of the arrangement. I love you, Y/N, for everything that you are.”

Your heart skips a beat, emotions swirling inside you. “Charles, I-”

The door bursts open, cutting you off. Brown stands there, gun raised, flanked by two guards.

“Well, isn’t this romantic,” he sneers. “I hate to interrupt, but-”

He doesn’t get to finish. Charles moves with lightning speed, tackling Brown to the ground. You react instantly, throwing your knife at one guard while launching yourself at the other.

The room erupts into chaos. Gunshots ring out, and you hear Charles grunt in pain. Fear grips your heart as you dispatch your opponent, turning to see Charles and Brown grappling on the floor, both bloodied.

Brown gains the upper hand, pinning Charles down and reaching for his discarded gun. Without thinking, you throw yourself at him, knocking him off Charles.

You end up on your back, Brown looming over you, his hands around your throat. Your vision starts to blur as you struggle for air.

Suddenly, the pressure is gone. You gasp, air flooding your lungs, and look up to see Charles standing over Brown’s crumpled form, a bloody pipe in his hand.

“That’s my fucking wife,” Charles snarls, his eyes blazing with a fury you’ve never seen before. “I’m going to kill you for touching her.”

As Charles raises the pipe again, you struggle to your feet. “Charles, wait!”

He pauses, looking at you with wild eyes. You place a hand on his arm, feeling the tremors running through his body.

“He’s not worth wasting more time,” you say softly. “Let’s just get out of here. The explosive will deal with him.”

For a moment, you think he might not listen. Then, slowly, he lowers the pipe. “You’re right,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Let’s go home.”

You make your way out of the warehouse, supporting each other. As you stumble into the cool night air, sirens wailing in the distance, Charles pulls you close.

“I meant what I said in there,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. “I love you, Y/N. More than I ever thought possible.”

You look up at him, seeing the truth of his words in his eyes. In that moment, all your doubts and reservations melt away. You realize that somewhere along the way, despite the arranged marriage, despite the danger and complexity of your lives, you’ve fallen in love with Charles Leclerc.

“I love you too,” you whisper, the words feeling right on your tongue. “God help me, but I do.”

Charles’ face breaks into a radiant smile, and he leans down to kiss you. It’s not the most comfortable kiss — you’re both battered and bloody, adrenaline still coursing through your veins — but it’s real and raw and perfect.

As you break apart, breathless, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “What do you say we get out of here, Mrs. Leclerc? I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound slightly hysterical with relief and lingering fear. “Lead the way, Mr. Leclerc. But don’t think this means I’m going to start following your orders.”

Charles grins, taking your hand as you start walking. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Your stubbornness is one of the things I love most about you.”

***

The Leclerc mansion buzzes with activity as you and Charles prepare for an event you never quite imagined would be part of your lives: your son’s first parent-teacher conference. The past decade has been a whirlwind of change, love, and unexpected joy, with little Jules at the center of it all.

You stand before the full-length mirror in your bedroom, smoothing down your sleek pantsuit. It’s a far cry from the weapons-laden wedding dress of years past, but old habits die hard — there’s still a small knife concealed in your boot.

Charles appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “You look beautiful, mon cœur. Though I must say, I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t opt for your thigh holster.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t suppress a smile. “Very funny. I’m trying to make a good impression here.”

“Ah yes,” Charles grins, pressing a kiss to your neck. “The fearsome Y/N Leclerc, terror of the underworld, now fretting over a parent-teacher conference. How the mighty have fallen.”

You elbow him playfully in the ribs. “Watch it, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Charles spins you around to face him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t dare. You’d miss me too much.”

“Try me,” you challenge, but there’s no heat in your words. After all these years, the banter between you is as natural as breathing.

A small voice pipes up from the doorway. “Mama, Papa, are you fighting again?”

You both turn to see Jules standing there, his mop of dark curls a mess and his school uniform slightly rumpled. At six years old, he’s the perfect blend of you and Charles — your fierce determination and Charles’ charm wrapped up in one precocious package.

Charles scoops him up, tossing him in the air and eliciting a squeal of delight. “Fighting? Us? Never. Your mother and I were just discussing the finer points of marital bliss.”

You snort, reaching out to smooth Jules’ hair. “What your father means is that he was being an idiot, as usual.”

Jules giggles, looking between the two of you with adoration. “Are you excited to meet Ms. Thompson? She’s really nice, I promise!”

You exchange a glance with Charles, a mixture of pride and apprehension in both your eyes. Sending Jules to a normal school had been a controversial decision among your families, but you were determined to give him as normal a childhood as possible — or at least, as normal as the son of two mafia leaders could have.

“Of course we’re excited, baby,” you say, tweaking Jules’ nose. “Now, why don’t you go make sure you have all your things ready? We’ll be leaving soon.”

As Jules scampers off, Charles pulls you close again. “You know,” he murmurs, “I’m actually a bit nervous about this.”

You look up at him, surprised. “You? Nervous? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Charles shrugs, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s different when it’s about Jules. I just ... I want everything to be perfect for him.”

You soften, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I know. Me too. But we’ve faced down rival mafia families, corrupt politicians, and your mother’s infamous Christmas dinners. I think we can handle one teacher.”

Charles laughs, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You’re right, as always. Though I do have one request.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

He leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. “Try not to kill any teachers if you don’t like what they say, okay?”

You pull back, swatting his arm. “Charles Leclerc! I would never!”

“Uh-huh,” he grins, clearly unconvinced. “Need I remind you of the incident with Jules’ preschool teacher?”

You flush, crossing your arms defensively. “That was different. She suggested Jules might have behavior issues. I merely ... expressed my disagreement.”

“You threatened to feed her to the sharks in Monaco Harbor,” Charles deadpans.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” You huff. “She never brought it up again.”

Charles shakes his head, chuckling. “Just ... try to restrain yourself this time, okay? We’re trying to give Jules a normal life, remember?”

You sigh dramatically. “Fine. I promise not to threaten, maim, or otherwise harm any of Jules’ teachers. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Charles grins, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now, shall we go face the music?”

As you make your way downstairs, Jules is waiting by the door, bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Come on, come on!” He urges. “We don’t want to be late!”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Alright, little man. Let’s go.”

The drive to the school is filled with Jules’ chatter about his friends, his favorite subjects, and how he’s sure Ms. Thompson will have only good things to say. You and Charles listen attentively, exchanging fond glances over Jules’ head.

As you pull into the school parking lot, you feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. It’s ridiculous, really. You’ve faced down countless dangerous situations without breaking a sweat, but somehow, this feels more daunting.

Charles seems to sense your unease. He takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got this,” he murmurs. “Just remember — no death threats.”

You roll your eyes but squeeze his hand back. “I’ll do my best.”

Jules leads the way into the school, practically skipping down the hallway. You and Charles follow, hand-in-hand, drawing curious glances from other parents and teachers. It’s not every day that two of the most powerful figures in the criminal underworld show up for a parent-teacher conference.

As you approach Ms. Thompson’s classroom, Jules turns to you both. “Best behavior, okay?” He says seriously, wagging a finger at you. “No fighting, no threatening, and absolutely no talk about the family business.”

You and Charles exchange an amused glance. “Yes, sir,” Charles says solemnly. “We promise to be on our best behavior.”

Jules nods, satisfied, then knocks on the classroom door before scurrying away to meet up with his friends.

Ms. Thompson, a kind-faced woman in her forties, opens the door with a warm smile. “Ah, the Leclercs! Please, come in.”

As you enter the classroom, you can’t help but scan for potential threats — an old habit that’s hard to break. Charles notices and gives you a gentle nudge, a silent reminder to relax.

“Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Ms. Thompson says, gesturing for you to sit. “Jules talks about you all the time.”

You exchange a slightly worried glance with Charles. “All good things, I hope,” you say, trying to keep your tone light.

Ms. Thompson laughs. “Oh, mostly. Though I must admit, some of his stories are quite ... imaginative.”

Charles leans forward, curiosity piqued. “Oh? Like what?”

“Well,” Ms. Thompson says, a twinkle in her eye, “there was the time he told the class that his parents once fought off a rival family with nothing but a butter knife and a bottle of expensive champagne.”

You cough, trying to hide your surprise. That particular story wasn’t as exaggerated as Ms. Thompson probably believed. Charles, meanwhile, looks entirely too amused.

“Kids and their imaginations,” he says smoothly. “Though I must say, that does sound like an exciting dinner party.”

Ms. Thompson chuckles. “Indeed. But let’s focus on Jules’ academic progress, shall we?”

As she begins to go through Jules’ work, showing you his assignments and discussing his strengths and areas for improvement, you find yourself relaxing. Jules is doing well — excelling, even — and Ms. Thompson seems genuinely fond of him.

“He’s a bright boy,” she says warmly. “Very curious and always eager to learn. He does have a tendency to ... embellish his stories during show and tell, but his creativity is truly remarkable.”

You nod, a surge of pride washing over you. “That’s our Jules,” you say softly, glancing at Charles. His eyes are shining with the same pride and love you feel.

Ms. Thompson hesitates for a moment, then continues. “There is one small concern I wanted to discuss with you both.”

You tense immediately, your hand instinctively moving towards your concealed knife. Charles notices and quickly places his hand over yours, shooting you a warning look.

“What kind of concern?” He asks smoothly, while keeping a firm grip on your hand.

Ms. Thompson looks slightly nervous, but presses on. “Well, Jules has been ... rather interested in weapons lately. He’s been drawing quite detailed pictures of various firearms and knives. While his artistic skills are impressive, I’m a bit worried about the subject matter.”

You and Charles exchange a look. This is exactly the kind of situation you’d been afraid of — how do you explain that weapons are simply a part of your daily life without revealing too much?

Charles clears his throat. “Ah, yes. Well, you see, my wife and I are ... collectors. Of antique weapons. It’s a family hobby, you might say. Jules must have seen some of our pieces.”

You nod quickly, grateful for Charles’ quick thinking. “Exactly. We’ll have a talk with him about appropriate subjects for school, of course.”

Ms. Thompson looks relieved. “Oh, I see. That explains it. Yes, a talk about school-appropriate topics would be wonderful. Other than that, Jules is a joy to have in class.”

As the conference wraps up, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. You managed to get through it without any threats or revelations about your true profession. Charles seems equally relieved as you say your goodbyes and head out to collect Jules from the playground.

Once you’re back in the car, Jules in the backseat, he leans forward eagerly. “Well? How did it go? Did I do okay?”

You turn in your seat to face him, your heart swelling with love. “You did more than okay, sweetheart. We’re so proud of you.”

Charles nods in agreement. “That’s right, mon chou. Though we do need to have a little chat about those weapon drawings ...”

Jules has the grace to look sheepish. “Oops. Sorry about that. I just thought they were cool.”

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright. Just ... maybe stick to drawing cars or dinosaurs at school, okay?”

As you drive home, Jules chattering away in the backseat, you reach over and take Charles’ hand. He glances at you, a soft smile on his face.

“We did it,” you murmur. “No threats, no violence, not even a single mention of sleeping with the fishes.”

Charles chuckles, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss. “I’m impressed. Though I have to say, I was a little disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing you go all mama bear.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat in it. “There’s always next time,” you say with a wink.

As you pull into the driveway of your home, you can’t help but marvel at how much your life has changed. From reluctant bride to devoted wife and mother, from cold-hearted mafia princess to ... well, an only slightly less cold-hearted mafia queen.

But looking at Charles and Jules, you wouldn’t have it any other way. This beautiful, chaotic, sometimes dangerous life you’ve built together — it’s more than you ever dared to dream of.

And if anyone tries to threaten this happiness? Well, you still know how to use that knife in your boot. Some things never change, after all.

***

Sarah Dumas nervously adjusts her cardigan as she enters the school gymnasium for the monthly PTA meeting. Even after three years, she still feels out of place among the other parents. Her eyes scan the room, landing on the couple that always draws everyone’s attention: Charles and Y/N Leclerc.

They stand near the refreshment table, an island of elegance and barely contained danger in a sea of suburban normalcy. Charles, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, laughs at something you’ve said, his hand resting casually on the small of your back. You, for your part, look like you’ve just stepped off a runway, your designer outfit a stark contrast to the mom jeans and polos that dominate the room.

Sarah edges closer, trying to catch snippets of the conversation.

“Mon amour,” Charles is saying, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I still think my idea for the fundraiser was brilliant.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s fondness in your expression. “Charles, we’ve been over this. We can’t auction off ‘A Day in the Life of a Mafia Boss’ as a school fundraiser.”

“Why not?” Charles pouts playfully. “I’d even throw in a complimentary lesson in money laundering. Think of the educational value!”

Sarah’s eyes widen. Surely they must be joking. Right?

Before she can ponder it further, the PTA president, Marie Fournier, calls the meeting to order. As everyone takes their seats, Sarah finds herself next to Beth, another mom she’s friendly with.

“Can you believe them?” Beth whispers, nodding towards the Leclercs. “They always act like they own the place.”

Sarah shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. “They’re ... certainly unique.”

Beth snorts. “That’s one way to put it. Did you hear about what happened at the last bake sale?”

Sarah shakes her head, leaning in eagerly.

“Well,” Beth continues, her voice low, “apparently, Mrs. Leclerc’s lemon bars were so good that Mr. Peterson from the school board accused her of cheating. Next thing you know, Mr. Leclerc has him cornered, whispering something about ‘sleeping with the fishes’ if he ever insulted his wife’s baking again!”

Sarah gasps. “No! What happened?”

Beth grins. “Mr. Peterson went white as a sheet and bought every single lemon bar. Paid triple the asking price, too.”

Their gossip is interrupted as Marie starts discussing the upcoming spring carnival. “Now, we still need volunteers for the dunk tank ...”

To everyone’s surprise, Charles’ hand shoots up. “I’ll do it,” he says, flashing a charming smile.

Marie blinks, clearly taken aback. “Oh, um, thank you, Mr. Leclerc. That’s very ... generous of you.”

You lean over to Charles, whispering something that makes him chuckle. Sarah strains to hear, catching only fragments: “... better than the time in Majorca ... at least this time you’ll be expecting the water ...”

The meeting continues, with discussions about budget allocation, new playground equipment, and the eternal debate over chocolate versus vanilla for the ice cream social. Throughout it all, Sarah can’t help but notice how the Leclercs seem to operate on a different wavelength from everyone else.

When the topic of security for the carnival comes up, you speak up for the first time. “I have some ... associates who would be happy to help out. Free of charge, of course.”

Marie looks both relieved and slightly terrified. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Leclerc. Are these associates ... qualified?”

You smile, a predatory gleam in your eye. “Oh, trust me. They’re very qualified in handling ... difficult situations.”

Charles coughs, poorly disguising a laugh. “What my wife means is that they’re experienced in crowd control and conflict resolution.”

The other parents exchange nervous glances, but no one dares to question further.

As the meeting wraps up, Sarah finds herself lingering, oddly fascinated by the Leclercs. She watches as they approach Marie, speaking in low tones. Marie’s eyes widen, and she nods vigorously before scurrying away.

Curiosity gets the better of Sarah, and she edges closer, pretending to study the snack table.

“... really, mon cœur,” Charles is saying, “you didn’t have to threaten her kneecaps.”

You shrug, a small smirk playing on your lips. “It worked, didn’t it? Now Jules’ class will get that field trip to the science museum he’s been asking for.”

Charles shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “You’re a menace. What am I going to do with you?”

“You love it,” you reply, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Sarah fumbles with a paper cup, causing it to clatter to the floor. The Leclercs turn, fixing her with twin looks of amusement.

“Enjoying the refreshments, Mrs. Dumas?” Charles asks smoothly.

Sarah feels her face heat up. “I, um, yes. The cookies are lovely.”

You step forward, your movements graceful and somehow predatory. “Sarah, isn’t it? Jules has mentioned your daughter, Emma. They’re in the same class, right?”

Sarah nods, surprised and a little flattered that you know this. “Yes, that’s right. Emma talks about Jules all the time. He seems like a wonderful boy.”

Charles beams with pride. “He takes after his mother,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You roll your eyes but lean into his touch. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Leclerc.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Sarah realizes she should probably say something. “So, um, how are you finding the PTA? It must be quite different from ... well, from what you’re used to.”

The moment the words leave her mouth, Sarah wants to kick herself. What was she thinking?

To her relief, the Leclercs just laugh. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” you say, a twinkle in your eye. “Managing a group of passionate parents isn’t all that different from managing our ... family businesses.”

Charles nods sagely. “Though I must say, the stakes here can be even higher. You should have seen the great Cupcake Debacle of 2032.”

Sarah finds herself relaxing, drawn in by their easy charm. “Oh? What happened?”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Let’s just say it involved three kinds of frosting, a rogue flamingo, and a very creative use for a fire extinguisher.”

Sarah bursts out laughing, surprising herself. As intimidating as the Leclercs can be, there’s something undeniably magnetic about them.

Just then, Beth appears at Sarah’s elbow. “Sarah, we should get going. Carpool, remember?”

Sarah nods, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. “Of course. It was nice talking to you, Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.”

Charles flashes that devastating smile again. “The pleasure was all ours. Oh, and Sarah?”

She turns back, curious. “Yes?”

“Do make sure to bring Emma to the carnival. I have a feeling the dunk tank is going to be ... quite the spectacle this year.”

As Sarah walks away with Beth, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just had a brush with something both thrilling and dangerous.

Beth, meanwhile, is practically vibrating with curiosity. “What were you talking about with them? Did they say anything ... weird?”

Sarah considers for a moment. “Not really. They seem ... nice, actually. A bit eccentric, maybe, but nice.”

Beth looks skeptical. “Nice? Sarah, last week Mr. Leclerc showed up to career day and gave a presentation on ‘The Art of Negotiation’. Half the kids looked terrified, and the other half wanted to sign up for internships!”

Sarah can’t help but laugh. “Well, at least it was memorable. And you have to admit, they’ve done wonders for the school’s fundraising efforts.”

Beth nods grudgingly. “True. Though I’m not entirely sure where all that money is coming from ...”

As they reach Beth’s minivan, Sarah glances back at the school. She catches a glimpse of the Leclercs through a window, heads bent close together, clearly deep in conversation. There’s an intensity to their body language that makes Sarah’s breath catch.

For a moment, she allows herself to imagine what their life must be like outside of PTA meetings and school functions. The glamor, the danger, the passion ... it’s all so far removed from her own suburban existence.

But then Beth honks the horn, jolting Sarah back to reality. With a small sigh, she climbs into the van, ready to return to her normal life of carpools and casseroles.

As they drive away, Sarah can’t help but think that the spring carnival is going to be very interesting indeed. And despite herself, she’s looking forward to it more than she’d care to admit.

Over the next few weeks, preparations for the carnival kick into high gear. Sarah finds herself volunteering more than usual, partly out of genuine enthusiasm and partly (though she would never admit it) to catch more glimpses of the enigmatic Leclercs.

The day of the carnival dawns bright and clear. Sarah arrives early to help set up, her arms full of homemade cupcakes. As she approaches the school grounds, she nearly drops her baked goods in shock.

The usually modest school field has been transformed into something out of a movie. There are professional-grade rides, gourmet food stalls, and even a small Ferris wheel. And is that ... a chocolate fountain?

“Impressive, isn’t it?” A familiar voice says behind her.

Sarah turns to see Charles Leclerc, looking impossibly dashing in casual wear that probably costs more than her monthly mortgage payment.

“Mr. Leclerc! This is ... wow. How did you manage all this?”

Charles winks conspiratorially. “Let’s just say I called in a few favors. And please, call me Charles.”

Before Sarah can respond, you appear at Charles’ side, looking stunning in a sundress that’s both elegant and practical. “Darling, everything’s set up. Oh, hello Sarah. Those cupcakes look delicious.”

Sarah blushes under your scrutiny. “Thank you, Mrs. Lecl- I mean, Y/N. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

You smile, and for a moment, Sarah forgets to breathe. “I’m sure they’re wonderful. Why don’t you bring them over to the bake sale table? I hear Mr. Peterson has already reserved half of them.”

As Sarah walks away, she overhears Charles murmuring to you, “Did you really have to station Dmitri and the boys at every entrance?”

“Better safe than sorry,” you reply. “Besides, they’re under strict orders. No weapons, no intimidation, and absolutely no business talk around the children.”

Sarah shakes her head, convincing herself she must have misheard. Surely you’re talking about regular security guards. Right?

The carnival is a roaring success. Children laugh and scream with delight on the rides, parents chat over gourmet hors d’oeuvres, and there’s a general air of festivity that Sarah has never seen at a school event before.

But the real highlight, as promised, is the dunk tank. Charles takes his place on the seat, looking for all the world like he’s about to attend a board meeting rather than be dunked in water. You stand nearby, a mischievous glint in your eye as you buy a stack of balls.

“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen!” Charles calls out, his voice carrying across the field. “Who wants to dunk the dashing Mr. Leclerc? All proceeds go to the school’s new science lab!”

A crowd gathers, equal parts amused and intimidated. Sarah watches as you take aim, a look of intense concentration on your face.

“Come on, mon chèrie,” Charles taunts playfully. “Surely the feared Y/N Leclerc can hit a simple target?”

Your eyes narrow. “Oh, it’s on.”

The ball flies true, hitting the target dead center. Charles barely has time to look surprised before he plunges into the water. The crowd erupts in cheers and laughter.

When Charles resurfaces, he’s laughing too. “Well played. Well played indeed.”

As the day winds down, Sarah finds herself helping with clean-up, still buzzing from the excitement. She overhears snippets of conversation from other parents, all marveling at the success of the event.

“I heard they quadrupled the fundraising goal ...”

“Did you see those security guards? They looked like they could bench-press a car ...”

“I swear I saw Mrs. Leclerc talking to the Mayor. Since when do we have connections like that?”

Sarah smiles to herself, realizing that while the Leclercs may not fit the typical PTA mold, they’ve brought something special to their little community. Something exciting, glamorous, and yes, maybe a little dangerous.

As she’s about to leave, she spots the Leclercs by their sleek Ferrari. They’re wrapped in each other’s arms, oblivious to the world around them. The look they share is so full of love and passion that Sarah has to look away, feeling like she’s intruding on a private moment.

Driving home, Sarah reflects on the day. She still can’t quite put her finger on what makes the Leclercs so different, so intriguing. But she knows one thing for certain: life has become a lot more interesting since their son joined the school.

And as she pulls into her driveway, Sarah finds herself looking forward to the next PTA meeting more than she ever thought possible. After all, who knows what the Leclercs will come up with next?

***

Nurse Marion Bouchard has seen her fair share of unusual deliveries in her 15 years at the Princess Grace Hospital Centre, but nothing could have prepared her for the arrival of the Leclerc baby.

It starts with the mysterious men in dark suits who seem to materialize out of nowhere, clearing out an entire wing of the maternity ward. Marion watches, wide-eyed, as they sweep the rooms for ... something. Bugs? Bombs? She isn’t sure she wants to know.

“Excuse me,” she finally musters the courage to approach one of them. “What’s going on here?”

The man turns, his expression impassive behind dark sunglasses. “Security measures. The Leclercs are arriving.”

Before Marion can ask more, a commotion at the end of the hall catches her attention. A striking couple bursts through the doors, surrounded by more suited men. The woman is clearly in labor, but looks more annoyed than pained.

“I swear to God, Charles,” you are saying through gritted teeth, “when this is over, I’m going to make you regret ever looking at me without a condom.”

The man looks both terrified and amused. “Mon amour, you say the sweetest things.”

Dr. Evans, the head of obstetrics, rushes forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, welcome. We have everything prepared-”

You cut him off with a glare that could melt steel. “Less talking, more drugs. Now.”

Marion finds herself assigned to your care team, helping you into a private suite that looks more like a five-star hotel room than a hospital. As she hooks up the fetal monitor, she can’t help but notice the way Charles hovers, his eyes constantly scanning the room for threats.

“Is this your first child?” Marion asks, trying to break the tension.

You laugh, a sound somewhere between amusement and pain. “Second. Our son, Jules, is at home with his grandfather. Probably learning how to properly strangle someone as we speak.”

Marion’s eyes widen, and she lets out a nervous chuckle, unsure if you are joking.

Charles steps in smoothly. “What my lovely wife means is that Jules is likely being spoiled rotten with ice cream and cartoons.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that. Now, where are those damn drugs?”

As if on cue, the anesthesiologist enters. Marion notices how one of the suited men outside tenses, hand moving to his jacket, before relaxing at a subtle nod from Charles.

Hours pass, and Marion finds herself more and more fascinated by the Leclercs. Despite the pain of labor, you maintain a razor-sharp wit, alternating between threats to Charles’ manhood and startlingly accurate assessments of hospital security protocols.

“You know,” you pant during a particularly strong contraction, “if you really loved me, you’d let me stab you just a little. It’s only fair.”

Charles, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He just strokes your hair and says, “How about we save the stabbing for our anniversary? As is tradition.”

Marion’s head whips around, but both of you are grinning at each other like it’s some private joke.

As the labor progresses, Marion can’t shake the feeling that something is ... off about the Leclercs. It isn’t just the excessive security or the luxurious accommodations. There is an undercurrent of danger, of barely contained power, that both thrills and terrifies her.

During a quiet moment, while you doze between contractions, Marion’s curiosity gets the better of her. “Mr. Leclerc,” she whispers, “if you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you do?”

Charles smiles enigmatically. “Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that. Mainly, I specialize in ... problem-solving.”

Before Marion can probe further, you jolt awake with a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.

“Charles,” you growl, “I swear on all that is holy, if you don’t get this baby out of me in the next five minutes, I will personally ensure that there will be no more little Leclercs.”

Charles pales slightly but maintains his composure. “Now, mon ange, let’s not be hasty. Remember São Paulo? This is nothing compared to that.”

You glare at him. “São Paulo didn’t involve pushing a human being out of my-”

“Okay!” Marion interjects quickly. “Let’s check your progress, shall we?”

As she examines you, Marion can’t help but wonder what on earth had happened in São Paulo. She has a feeling she is better off not knowing.

The next few hours are a blur of activity. You prove to be as fierce in childbirth as you apparently are in ... whatever it is you do outside the hospital. Marion loses count of the creative threats and punishments you devise for Charles, each more outlandish than the last.

“When this is over,” you pant, pushing with all your might, “I’m going to tie you to a chair and make you listen to Baby Shark on repeat for 24 hours straight.”

Charles winces. “Isn’t that a bit extreme? What happened to the good old days of cement shoes and sleeping with the fishes?”

Dr. Evans, who is positioned at the foot of the bed, looks up with a mixture of concern and confusion. “Mr. Leclerc, I’m not sure-”

“It’s a joke,” Charles says quickly. “An inside joke. From our ... cooking class.”

Marion exchanges a glance with Dr. Evans. Cooking class? Sure.

Finally, with one last heroic push and a string of curses that Marion is certain are in at least five different languages, your daughter enters the world.

The room falls silent for a moment, then fills with the strong, angry cries of a newborn who seems to have inherited her mother’s spirit.

“She’s beautiful,” Charles whispers, tears in his eyes as he cuts the umbilical cord.

You collapse back onto the pillows, exhausted but triumphant. “Of course she is. She’s ours.”

As Marion helps clean and weigh the baby, she can’t help but notice how the atmosphere in the room has changed. The danger and tension that had been simmering beneath the surface all day seem to evaporate, replaced by a bubble of pure love and joy.

Charles cradles his daughter gently, looking at her with a mixture of awe and terror. “Hello, little one,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. I promise to always protect you, even if it means hiding bodies in the- I mean, even if it means staying up all night to chase away the monsters under your bed.”

You roll your eyes but smile softly. “Nice save. Now, give me my daughter before I have to get up and take her from you.”

As Charles places the baby in your arms, Marion feels like she is intruding on something incredibly intimate and precious. The way you look at each other, at your child, speaks of a bond that goes far beyond anything she’s ever witnessed.

“So,” Marion ventures, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, “have you decided on a name?”

You and Charles share a look, having one of those silent conversations that only couples who are completely in sync can have.

“Vittoria,” you say finally. “Vittoria Leclerc.”

“It means victory in Italian,” Charles explains, his voice filled with pride. “Because she’s already conquered our hearts.”

Marion smiles, charmed despite herself. “That’s beautiful. And very fitting, considering how fiercely she entered the world.”

You grin, a hint of your earlier fire returning. “Just wait until she’s older. She’ll be ruling the family busi- I mean, family game night in no time.”

As Marion finishes up her duties and prepares to leave the new family alone, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just been part of something extraordinary. The Leclercs are unlike any couple she’s ever met, a whirlwind of passion, danger, and now, an overwhelming love for their children.

Just as she is about to exit, Charles calls out to her. “Nurse Bouchard?”

She turns, curious. “Yes, Mr. Leclerc?”

He fixes her with a penetrating gaze that makes her feel like he can see right through her. “We appreciate your discretion in this matter. The Leclerc family values privacy above all else.”

Marion swallows hard, suddenly very aware of the armed men still stationed outside the door. “Of course, Mr. Leclerc. Patient confidentiality is paramount in our profession.”

You chime in, your voice deceptively sweet. “And we’re so grateful for that. It would be such a shame if anything were to ... compromise that confidentiality. Don’t you agree, Charles?”

Charles nods, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Absolutely, mon cœur. A real tragedy.”

Marion feels a chill run down her spine. “I ... I understand. You can trust me completely.”

As Marion leaves the room, her head spinning, she can’t help but wonder what she’s gotten herself into. The Leclercs are clearly more than they appear, your world so far removed from her own that she can barely comprehend it.

But as she glances back one last time, seeing Charles press a tender kiss to your forehead while you cradle little Vittoria, she realizes that at your core, you are just like any other family. Loving, protective, and perhaps a little bit dangerous.

***

Stefan Wheeler wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans for the hundredth time as he stands before the imposing gates of the Leclerc estate. At 17, he thought he was prepared for anything, but meeting his girlfriend Vittoria’s family is proving to be more nerve-wracking than he’d anticipated.

“Relax,” Vittoria says, squeezing his hand. “They’re going to love you.”

Stefan nods, not entirely convinced. “Right. It’s just ... your family seems ... intense.”

Vittoria laughs, a sound that usually makes Stefan’s heart soar but now only heightens his anxiety. “Oh, you have no idea.”

As they approach the front door, it swings open before they can knock. A tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing eyes stands there, his gaze immediately zeroing in on Stefan.

“Ah, you must be the boy,” he says, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of... something Stefan can’t quite place.

Vittoria rolls her eyes. “Papa, be nice. This is Stefan. Stefan, this is my father, Charles Leclerc.”

Stefan extends his hand, hoping it isn’t visibly shaking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Leclerc.”

Charles takes Stefan’s hand, his grip firm to the point of being painful. “Charmed, I’m sure. Please, come in. The family is eager to meet you.”

As they enter the foyer, Stefan’s eyes widen. The interior of the house is a strange blend of opulent luxury and what looks like ... medieval weaponry? He could have sworn he saw a battle axe mounted on one wall.

Before he can process this, a whirlwind of energy enters the room. You sweep in with a grace that seems almost predatory.

“So this is the famous Stefan,” you say, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Stefan swallows hard. “All good things, I hope.”

You tilt your head, studying him intently. “Oh, Vittoria’s been very ... discreet. But we have our ways of finding out information.”

Charles chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Don’t terrify the boy just yet. We haven’t even made it to the dining room.”

Stefan laughs nervously, unsure if that is meant to be a joke.

Just then, a young man who could only be Vittoria’s older brother, Jules, saunters in. He is the spitting image of Charles, with an air of danger that makes Stefan want to take a step back.

“Well, well,” Jules drawls, circling Stefan like a shark. “So you’re the one who thinks he’s good enough for our Vittoria.”

Vittoria groans. “Jules, knock it off. You promised to behave.”

Jules grins, all teeth. “I am behaving. I haven’t even shown him my knife collection yet.”

Stefan’s eyes widen. “Knife ... collection?”

Charles claps his hands together. “Shall we move to the dining room? I’m sure our guest is hungry after his ... journey here.”

As they walk, Stefan can’t shake the feeling that he is being herded like prey. The dining room is as impressive as the rest of the house, with a table that could easily seat twenty.

“Please, sit,” Charles says, gesturing to a chair. Stefan notices it is positioned so that his back is to the door, while the Leclercs have clear sightlines to all exits.

As they settle in, you ring a small bell. Almost instantly, servers appear with plates of food that look and smell incredible.

“I hope you like Italian,” you say, your tone making it clear that not liking it isn’t an option.

Stefan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yes, I love it. This looks amazing, Mrs. Leclerc.”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Please, call me Y/N. Mrs. Leclerc makes me sound so ... old.”

Charles smirks. “You’re as youthful and deadly as the day I met you, mon cœur.”

Stefan blinks, sure he must have misheard. Deadly?

As they begin to eat, the interrogation starts in earnest.

“So, Stefan,” Charles says, twirling pasta around his fork with practiced ease. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

Stefan nearly chokes on his food. “I ... uh ... we’re just dating, sir. Getting to know each other.”

Jules leans forward, his eyes glinting. “And how exactly are you getting to know her?”

“Jules!” Vittoria hisses, her cheeks flushing.

You interject smoothly. “What my son means is, what do you two do for fun?”

Stefan relaxes slightly. This, he can handle. “Oh, we go to the movies, hang out at the mall, normal stuff. Vittoria’s been teaching me how to play chess.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “Chess? Interesting choice. Tell me, Stefan, do you know the importance of strategy? Of always being three moves ahead of your opponent?”

Stefan nods, confused by the intensity of Charles’ gaze. “Uh, yes. Vittoria’s been explaining that to me.”

“Good,” Charles says, leaning back. “That’s a valuable skill in ... many areas of life.”

The conversation continues, with each question feeling more like a trap than casual dinner talk. Stefan finds himself constantly on edge, trying to decipher the hidden meanings behind each seemingly innocent inquiry.

“What do your parents do, Stefan?” You ask, sipping what Stefan is pretty sure isn’t just water.

“My dad is an accountant and my mom’s a teacher,” Stefan replies.

Jules snorts. “How quaint. And what do you want to do with your life?”

Stefan straightens, feeling a bit more confident. “I’m actually really interested in law enforcement. I’m thinking of applying to the police academy after college.”

The room goes eerily silent. Stefan looks around, confused by the sudden tension.

Charles breaks the silence with a laugh that sounds only slightly forced. “Law enforcement? How ... admirable. You know, Stefan, there are many ways to uphold justice in this world. Some more effective than others.”

You nod, a strange glint in your eye. “Indeed. Sometimes the law needs a little ... help to get things done.”

Stefan shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I ... I’m not sure I understand.”

Vittoria jumps in, clearly trying to change the subject. “Stefan’s also really into martial arts, Papa. He’s been teaching me some self-defense moves.”

This seems to pique Charles’ interest. “Is that so? Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate after dinner, Stefan. I’m always interested in ... new techniques.”

The way Charles says it makes Stefan feel like he is missing some crucial subtext.

As the meal progresses, Stefan can’t shake the feeling that he is being tested. Every question, every glance exchanged between family members, seems loaded with hidden meaning.

When dessert is served — a delicious tiramisu that Stefan is almost too nervous to enjoy — Jules leans forward with a predatory grin.

“So, Stefan,” he says, his voice deceptively casual. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to make someone ... disappear?”

Stefan blinks, sure he must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

Vittoria groans. “Jules, stop it.”

You intervene smoothly. “What my son means is, have you ever thought about the complexities of witness protection programs? It’s fascinating how someone can just ... vanish and start a new life.”

Charles nods sagely. “Indeed. The ability to reinvent oneself is a valuable skill in today’s world.”

Stefan nods slowly, feeling like he is missing some crucial piece of information. “I ... suppose so. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

As the meal winds down, Stefan feels like he’s run a mental marathon. Every interaction with the Leclercs leaves him slightly off-balance, as if there were entire conversations happening just beneath the surface that he can’t quite grasp.

Charles stands, clapping his hands together. “Well, this has been delightful. Stefan, why don’t you join me in my study for a nightcap?”

Vittoria starts to protest, but you cut her off with a look. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Jules, why don’t you help me and Vittoria clear the table?”

As Stefan follows Charles down a long hallway, he can’t shake the feeling that he is walking into the lion’s den. The study, when they enter, is a mix of old-world charm and modern technology. Bookshelves line the walls, but Stefan notices some titles that seem ... unusual for a family library. “Advanced Interrogation Techniques?” “Undetectable Poisons Throughout History?”

Charles gestures for Stefan to sit in a plush leather chair, then pours two glasses of amber liquid from a crystal decanter.

“Now, Stefan,” Charles says, his voice low and intense. “Let’s talk about what it really means to be part of the Leclerc family.”

Stefan swallows hard, suddenly very aware of how alone he is with this imposing man. “Sir?”

Charles leans forward, his eyes boring into Stefan’s. “Our family has ... certain traditions. Certain expectations. Dating a Leclerc isn’t like dating any other girl. Do you understand?”

Stefan nods slowly, though he isn’t sure he understands at all. “I ... I really care about Vittoria, Mr. Leclerc. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

Charles’ smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Because if you did ...” He lets the sentence hang in the air, the threat clear even if unspoken.

Just then, the door bursts open, and you stride in, looking exasperated. “Charles, are you terrorizing the poor boy?”

Charles leans back, the picture of innocence. “Not at all, mon amour. We were just having a friendly chat.”

You roll your eyes, but there is fondness in your expression. “Well, I think Stefan’s had enough friendly chats for one evening. Vittoria’s waiting to say goodnight.”

As you walk Stefan to the door, he feels like he’s survived some sort of elaborate test. The Leclercs gather around, their smiles a mix of warmth and warning.

“It was lovely to meet you, Stefan,” you say, your tone making it clear that lovely might be an overstatement.

Jules claps him on the back, perhaps a bit harder than necessary. “Yeah, kid. You’re not half bad. For a civilian.”

Stefan blinks, confused. “Civilian?”

Charles steps in smoothly. “What my son means is, for someone outside our ... close-knit family circle. We look forward to seeing more of you, Stefan.”

As Vittoria walks him to his car, Stefan’s head is spinning. “Your family is ... intense,” he manages.

Vittoria laughs. “I know. They can be a lot. But they mean well. Mostly.”

Stefan nods, still trying to process everything. “They’re not ... I mean, they don’t actually ...”

Vittoria raises an eyebrow. “Don’t actually what?”

Stefan shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s crazy. I just ... for a minute there, I almost thought ...” He trails off, laughing nervously.

Vittoria’s smile is enigmatic. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably best not to say it out loud. Plausible deniability and all that.”

As Stefan drives home, his mind races with questions. What has he gotten himself into? Who are the Leclercs, really? And why does he have the unsettling feeling that dating Vittoria might be the most dangerous thing he’s ever done?

One thing is certain: the Leclercs are unlike any family he’s ever met.

[bruciemilf]

Damian starts living with his father and learns what silence really is.

His father doesn’t speak, but he talks through his eyes. His touch. The barest of his expressions. The kind of silence unwanted objects have. Like he was born with guilt built it.

He says have a good day with a badly packed lunch box right next to Pennyworth’s.

It’s visibly less pleasing to look at, with the slippage of a cucumber salad soaking through. Damian eats that one.

He says ‘tell me you’re okay ‘ when he barks “Robin. Raport.” At him through the coms.

He makes it very clear he’s not happy about Damian being there.

“He’s always been that way,” Grayson comforts him, like Damian needs comforting. Like he hasn’t lived with Talia until now. “Don’t take it hard. He’s not a bad guy. “

Why is he saying that like Damian doesn’t know? If he was, Titus wouldn’t like him so much.

The Doberman carries itself with a deadly type of grace. It’s loyal. Follows Damian everywhere. His eyes have the same sharp, caring quality Bruce’s have.

He growls when Damian tries to touch it, — but it dies down when his baba’s hand gently scratches his jagged ear.

“He’s not a bad dog,” he has a soft voice. Damian understands why his mother likes it. “He’s just scared.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” Bruce confirms softly. “He didn’t do anything either.”

Even if he’s Bruce’s, Titus’ collar says Jacob on the back. When he asks Grayson about that, he gets stiff as steel and Alfred does, too. Damian’s little chest tightens up.

Titus doesn’t growl at him again.

And Damian sees some white scars on Bruce’s neck, like something sharp and hungry tore through him. He wants to ask and words fail him.

But when Jacob comes over, for a visit, for an inspection, and Dick gets that look on his eye, cutting and hard, and both his baba and Titus bow their heads slightly, he understands.

“He’s a mean dog,” He comments when Batman gets geared up. A good machine. A good soldier. “I trained him that way.”

Damian understands, and he hates it.

[shawtuzi]

STRETCH YOU OUT

pairing: ex boyfriend! toji x reader/// cw include: porn with plot, toji is pathetic but in a hot way, a little angst, oral f receiving, good ole make up sex, really really soft sex that eventually gets rough, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie obvi, a smidge of aftercare, rushed but happy ending!! edit: i finally proofread this i didn’t realize there were so many mistakes so sorry bout that!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“y/nnnn! baby please talk to me! i see you looking at through the curtain!” you jumped back, closing the curtain with quickness. you rubbed your temples, letting out a deep sigh.

toji was back trying to win your forgiveness. again. for the third time that week.

after a very heated argument that involved him calling you a bitch you sent that man packing, not even looking back as you slammed the door in his face.

toji could be a good boyfriend when he felt like it, which was a problem for you. you wanted stability, someone you could depend on, have children with—but you just weren’t sure toji wanted the same thing. his promises felt empty, like he was only saying it to make you happy and that’s what pissed you off more than anything. him calling you a bitch was just the icing on top of the worlds shittiest cake

you could still remember the look of shock on his face as you told him to get the fuck on and never come back.

yet here he was for the third night in a row—sitting outside your apartment blasting ‘fallin’ by alicia keys from his car with the most beat up looking bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen in his arms.

you suddenly heard a loud knock at your door, making you jump. you looked through the peephole, sighing when you saw your neighbor suguru, a very agitated look on his face.

“can i help you?” you asked cracking the door open, already knowing he was about to give you an earful about toji.

“this is the third time that guy has shown up here blasting that loud ass music, and he keeps yelling your name. you gonna do something about?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. you kissed your teeth, opening the door wider, “i don’t know what the hell you expect me to do? he’s a grown ass man—”

“a grown ass man that has ties to you! fix it y/n or i won’t be so nice asking next time—” geto was cut off by you slamming the door in his face, letting out a sound of surprise. “bitch…” he muttered, walking back to his apartment.

you sighed once more, letting your forehead fall against the door. “fucking toji,” you growled, pushing off the door, walking over the window where you were watching toji. you yanked open the curtains, met once again with sight of toji belting out whatever r&b song was playing in his car.

you opened the window, sticking your head out the slightest bit. “y/n, baby! you came back!” he let out a sound of relief. you shook your head in annoyance, “turn that shit off and go home toji,” you hissed, making him frown and shake his head. you narrowed your eyes at the man, giving him the best death glare you could manage.

although you did put a little fear in his body, toji stood his ground, taking it a step further by turning up the stereo in his car. “i’m not leaving till we talk and baby you know i got time,” he glared right back at you, smirking because he knew that you knew he was indeed right. your nostrils flared in anger, your fist closing up ready to straight up punch this man in his jaw.

“ugh fine just turn that shit off before anyone complains,” you slammed your window shut, irritation radiating off every inch of your body. wow did this man had a lot of fucking nerve, but it’s okay you were ready to let him have it the second he stepped into your apartment.

it didn’t take long for toji to make it to your apartment, breathless and jittery but nonetheless excited to finally be in your presence again. you slowly opened the door, a frown etched onto your pretty, plump lips.

“hi baby….can i come in?” you didn’t say anything, instead you just stepped aside allowing him into the warmth of your apartment. the smell of caramel and honey hit his nose, relaxing him the tiniest bit.

it was silent for a few moments, no one saying anything until toji finally broke the silence. “before you go off on me just hear me out okay? sit. please,” toji ushered you over to the couch, his heart tightening when you shook his touch off.

“you know i don’t think you’re no bitch right? i’m sorry i even said it i hope we can move past it…” you looked at him, your brows furrowing, waiting for him to continue with his “apology”. when nothing else was said you couldn’t help but shake your head and laugh.

“toji…you think i kicked you out all because you called me a bitch….nothing else?” you were laughing but nothing was funny and that’s what was freaking toji the fuck out. he didn’t say anything which was just pissing you off even more.

“i kicked your ass out because i don’t even know what we’re doing anymore toji! you come and go as you please, you don’t talk to me and i mean really talk to me about shit like our future or if you even see a future with me. this relationship feels one sided whether you believe it and i’m sick of it—i don’t even believe you anymore whenever you say you love me. you haven’t touched me in god knows how long— *hiccup*

you hadn’t even realized you started crying till you felt little salty droplets fall on your thighs. you squeezed your eyes shut, bowing your head down as you tried to control your breathing.

“an—and now you got me fucking c-crying and shit—i hate you, i hate you so much,” you wiped your tears with the back of your hand but they just kept falling. toji’s eyes were wide as he watched you cry—over him of all fucking people. his chest felt impossibly tight, his throat feeling as if it would close up any minute.

you suddenly jumped up, “are you even gonna say anything?!” the volume of your voice took him by surprise, making him flinch. toji quickly stood up, resting his hands on your shoulders but you only pushed him away. toji took a deep breath, muttering out a small ‘sorry’ before pulling you into his arms.

“let go of me toji, jus’ leave,” but toji only shushed your cries, hugging you to his chest tighter—not tight enough to hurt you of course. he pressed multiple kisses to the crown of your head, rocking the two of you side to side while you silently cried into his shirt.

he cracked the tiniest smile when he finally felt you clutch onto his shirt, your nose nuzzling more into his chest. “just breathe and listen to me okay?” toji waited for you to verbally answer before speaking once more.

“i do love you y/n, there is no one else for me but you. it’s just—whenever you talk about that stuff i get scared shitless. i never pictured myself as the husband type or the dad type until just recently and even then i feel like id be shit at it. then you’d eventually realize you could do better n’ leave me,” he said the last part so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. panic washed over toji’s face when you began to cry harder.

“that’s why you need to talk to me, if i would’ve known it spooked you i wouldn’t have kept pushing the idea,” you were so annoyed at him, but you definitely couldn’t ignore the way your heart swelled at his words. toji rested his cheek on the crown of your head, shutting his eyes, “i’m a fucking idiot. the biggest fucking idiot there ever were.”

“yeah you are,” you let out a tiny laugh, lifting your head up to get a good look at toji. his eyes were sad and cloudy, something you’ve never seen before, it made you wanna start bawling your eyes out all over again.

“i’m sorry baby, forgive me. please.” he pressed his forehead against yours, frowning when you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “why won’t you look at me? look at me please y/n.” still nothing.

you let out a noise of surprise when toji suddenly fell on his knees, his big hands clutching onto the soft fabric of your his pajama pants. you finally made eye contact with him, your eyes already brimming with hot tears once more.

“forgive me. i’ll do anything—anything you ask of me. just let me come back and love you the right way—the way i should’ve been doing all this time,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in softness of your tummy. you ran your fingers through his hair, little hums of content leaving toji’s lips.

“fine. i forgive you toji.”

toji tilted his head up, his lips curling into a sad smile. you smiled back at him, giving his forehead three kisses before pushing him back. “now get your ass up you have a lot of making up to do,” you made your way to your bedroom, shedding your clothes on the way.

toji’s mouth was dropped in awe, his dick already twitching at the thought of finally being inside you again. he stood up on shaky legs, his eyes immediately locking on your discarded panties. he snatched them up and shamelessly took a look sniff, his eyes closing in utter bliss.

“what a fucking woman.”

“toji! bring your ass.”

“coming!”

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“a-ah! tojiii,” you mewled, yanking on toji’s jet black locks as he tongue fucked your pussy with everything he had in him. he had your knees pushed to your chest, securing them both with his large hands.

toji moaned into your pussy, swaying his head back and forth as he slurped up every drop you had to offer him. “s’fuckin’ good,” he slurred into your pussy, his dick jumping in his pants when he felt a gush of your wetness his his tongue.

he pushed his tongue into your clenching hole once more, his nose bumping into your clit each time his head moved. your toes curled in ecstasy as your second orgasm washed over you. “goddamn baby you tryna baptize me?” toji chuckled, giving your pussy three quick slaps.

“fuck you,” you mewled in overstimulation when you felt toji shove two fingers in your pussy, curling them just right. toji kissed his way up your body, stopping to give you a sloppy kiss.

“i intend to but i gotta stretch you out first if i wanna fit all the way in,” toji hummed, adding a third finger, his thumb quickly finding your clit to ease the stretch. you wrapped your arms around his neck, your whines and whimpers sounding like a symphony in his ears.

“feels so good toji,” you sighed dreamily, pressing your manicured toes against his hard on. toji hissed, his teeth catching onto his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “s’about to feel even better honey, open your legs,” toji swiftly removed his fingers from your cunt, a deep groan rumbling in his chest watching the way you clenched around nothing.

he pulled his sweats low enough for his dick to spring out but that wasn’t enough for you. “everything. take it all off, w’nna feel you against me,” your voice was so sweet and gentle compared to how it was earlier. it brought his heart so much peace knowing your words towards him were no longer full of anger and annoyance.

toji obeyed your wishes and removed everything. he pulled your body to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees to your chest once more. he tapped his dick against your pussy, fighting the urge to bust already just from how fucking wet your pussy sounded.

“ready for me baby?” his tone was soft as he slowly pushed the tip in. you nodded, your breath hitching when he pushed more in. it stayed like that for a moment—toji softly praising you as he slowly pushed all eight and a half inches of him inside you.

there we go—hah!” you both gasped in unison when he pushed himself in to the hilt. you feet knocked against his back, your body squirming at the feeling of being completely stuffed. “too big toji! it’s too much!” you tried to control you breathing you really did, but the way you could feel the thick veins on him throbbing against your walls had your mind already scrambled.

toji took in a long breath, attempting to get his thoughts together. this was about you not him. he was determined to make you see stars.

“you can take it baby—i know you can take it. gonna take me like a good girl like all those other times yeah? you wanna make me proud don’t you?” his thumbs caressed at your cheeks as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. he finally felt your pussy ease up, allowing him to draw his hips back, then forward.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth dropping open as toji fucked you with every ounce of love he had to offer. “fell s’good around me baby, kept this pussy nice and tight for me. you knew i’d be back didn’t you?” both his strong arms caged your head, blocking you from seeing anything in the room but him. toji drew his hips back all the way before slamming back in, hissing when he felt your manicured fingers dig into his biceps.

“a-answer me y/n, answer me right now or m’gonna fucking pull out,” it was an empty threat, you both knew that, but that didn’t stop you from scrambling to find the words to answer him. “yessss yes i knew you’d be back! i— ah my god! i w-was waiting for an excuse to let you come in and i’m so hap—happy it happened!” even though your brain told itself multiple times to not let this man back into your life you heart was saying a whole nother thing. of course love always triumphs which is why toji’s got you folded like a damn pretzel, fucking into you so hard your body was sliding up the bed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“thas’ right baby take that fucking dick, take my cum so i can make you a pretty mommy,” toji growled pushing your face further into your pillows, drool and tears falling freely onto the soft cotton.

you’d lost track of how many rounds you’ve gone, your brain sounding like nothing but static. your hands that were once pushing against toji’s pelvis to slow his movements were now pinned to your back. you were filled with so much cum you almost felt bloated, but you didn’t care—not when toji was making the sweetest promises about making you a mother.

each time he came inside you he pushed any excess back into your spent pussy, and each time his dick got hard causing him to beg you for yet another round that you simply couldn’t refuse. this time around though you could tell he was tired, the way his thrusts went from sloppy to straight up grinding, the way he wasn’t even trying to contain his moans anymore—my mans was tired okay.

“i’m—i’m gonna cum again daddy, feels like a lot,” you clutched onto your pillow for dear life, your knees feeling like they were about to give out any second. one particular roll of his hips finally triggered your orgasm, making your eyes cross and your legs finally give out from beneath you.

that didn’t stop toji in fact it even encouraged him to be rougher, his thighs clapping against the backs of yours they were turning a light shade of pink. “f-fuck are you still fucking cumming? you’re soaking me doll,” he grunted, mesmerized by the way waves of cum leaked from your pussy each time he pulled out.

with one last thrust toji finished inside you with a deep groan, his chest rumbling against your back. toji sat back on his knees, whistling at the way his cum flooded out of your swollen pussy, staining your sheets even more. he kissed his way up your back, stopping at your neck to litter it with wet kisses.

“you okay mama?” he laid next you, pulling your limp body into his arms. you couldn’t respond—like actually you were entirely too fucking tired, so you settled on a loving pat on his chest along with a kiss to his jaw. toji chuckled, tilting his head to give your forehead three kisses.

as you dozed off to sleep in his arms toji took this time to admire you in your relaxed state. that furrow between your brows was no longer there, along with that oh so cute pout you were sporting when he first came inside your apartment.

“i’m gonna do right by you i promise y/n, i promise.”

[feralgoblinqueen]

At the rehearsal dinner, the night before your wedding, your bridesmaids have prepared a presentation for you. They laugh conspiratorially before pulling the slide show up on the projector. The title is: Y/N Being Feral for Her Future Husband. Each slide has a photo and beneath is the unhinged text you sent with it. All the photos are sneaky pics you took while working with them.

Slide one: A slightly blurry image of him sitting on a bench at the gym.

The caption: “Sitting on his lap would probably fix me.”

Slide two: Picture is of him sipping his morning coffee or tea, disheveled.

The caption: “I’m jealous of a mug.”

Slide three: It looks like a selfie at first but you’re in the bottom corner and he’s in the background in full tactical gear.

The caption: “Love a man that uses protection.”

Slide four: Another blurry image obviously taken on a drunken night out with the rest of the team. There’s a tipped over shot glass and he’s licking the liquor off the bar. He’s got a big, goofy grin, being egged on by those around him.

The caption: “How many shots do you think it would take for him to want to lick me like that?”

Slide five: It’s a picture of his bicep flexed and the corded muscle on display, a slight sheen of sweat glistening in the light.

The caption: “I want to gnaw on him like a chew toy.”

Slide six: This is, much to your relief, the last picture. It’s of him sitting across from you at a dining table, dressed in nicer civilian clothes. Your first official date.

The caption: “Please, whatever deity is out there, don’t let me fuck this up.”

__________

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for ages. I don’t even know if anyone else will find it as funny as I do.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [4] - Ray of Light

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A ray of light shines through the clouds.

Word Count: 4242 (to everyone who might be wondering why every chapter is turning 4k+... it's the martini I mean it baby)

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language, mentions of sex

Series Masterlist

Logan was no stranger to the feeling of restlessness.

For him, it was around every corner; impossible to get away from. Even now, having just returned from the latest mission Charles had sent him on, he couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal, desperate to get out.

He gritted his teeth, slamming the door open to enter his room before he unzipped his suit and took it off, tossing it to the corner of the room. After putting his jeans and white shirt on, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Scott and Jean were already there, perched on the stools while Storm sat on the kitchen island, busy with a file. Rogue was rummaging through the fridge and Bobby was making a sandwich on the counter, still in his suit.

“Do we still not have beer in this place?” Logan asked to no one in particular and Storm looked over her shoulder.

“This place hasn’t stopped being a school since the last time you asked, so no.”

“Great,” he murmured. “Soda it is.”

“It’ll be good for your health,” Rogue said with a grin, then tossed him a bottle which he caught mid-air. He extended his arm in Bobby’s direction without a word and Bobby touched the bottle, making it ice cold.

“Thanks,” he grumbled and pulled himself a seat.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” Storm asked with a curious look in her eyes. “The mission was a success.”

“Is it because that guy almost stabbed you?” Bobby asked, making him frown.

“He didn’t almost stab me,” Logan said as Rogue closed the fridge, nibbling on a slice of pizza.

“When people stab you, do you get annoyed?” Bobby asked and Logan raised his brows.

“More annoyed than right now? Nah, it’s about the same.”

“To repeat, why are you so—” Jean started but stopped talking mid-sentence, a smile pulling at her lips. “Ah. I see.”

“What?”

“We were supposed to come back from this mission around afternoon,” she said. “And it’s Monday.”

Shit.

“Jean, stay out of my head.”

Jean grinned at him. “Oh I’m not in your head. Don’t need to be.”

Scott looked between them. “Is this about Theo’s mom?”

The impact of the simple question was almost instant on the small crowd in the kitchen. Storm immediately put the file in her lap aside to look at him, Bobby stopped making his sandwich and looked up from the jar of peanut butter he had stuck the knife in, and Rogue’s jaw dropped.

Great.

“Wait, seriously?” Bobby asked. “You and her—”

“There’s nothing,” Logan cut him off, forcing himself not to let his thoughts drift to her. “Scott has no idea what he’s talking about as usual.”

“You’re just pissed off because you’ll have to wait until Friday to see her again.”

Logan scoffed. “That has nothing to do with the situation.”

“I think you two would make a cute couple,” Storm said and Jean nodded.

“Oh absolutely.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Logan said with a frown. “And for your information, I could see her whenever I want.”

“I don’t think they’d make a good couple to be honest,” Bobby interfered, “I mean don’t get me wrong but you’re…” he motioned at him, making Logan raise his brows. “You.”

“Nothing gets past your observation skills, does it?” Logan deadpanned while Rogue suppressed a laugh and took another bite of her pizza.

“Opposites attract is definitely a thing.”

Logan opened his mouth to retort, but was instantly distracted when he heard familiar footsteps coming closer to the kitchen, making him look over his shoulder. It wasn’t long until Theo appeared at the door in his pajamas, making Rogue let out an “aw!”.

“Hi Theo.”

“Hi Miss Rogue!” Theo gave them a happy smile. “And Mr. Logan and Miss Storm and Mr. Cyclops and Miss Jean and Mr. Ice Man!”

Even Logan had to admit, the kid was adorable. Theo pushed his glasses up, blinking up at them while holding a huge tin container to his chest as the small crowd in the kitchen greeted him back, making his smile bigger.

“Hi bub,” Logan said and Theo waved at him with one hand while still clutching to the tin with the other.

“What are you doing up at this hour Theo?” Storm asked and Theo looked down at the tin container, then up at them again.

“Um—” he said. “Do you know my friend Ralph?”

Bobby tilted his head. “The fish guy?”

“Yeah!” Theo nodded fervently before pushing his glasses up again. “So he told me his mom never baked him cookies, and—I didn’t know moms didn’t bake cookies because mine does whenever I feel bad, so I told my mom about that and um…yesterday she baked cookies for me to bring here,” he said, pressing his index finger on the tin as if to emphasize his point. “Everyone had one but you weren’t around, Professor X said you were busy, and I stayed up late so that you could have some cookies as well.”

She had baked cookies.

For the whole school.

Logan had to remind himself it was the middle of the night so he couldn’t in fact go all the way to her apartment to see her and kiss her and—

Focus.

He had to focus.

But for fuck’s sake, it was almost agonizing at this point. She was actually, genuinely nice, as if it wasn’t enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was, how sweet she smelled, and just how much he wanted to—

Not going there, he forced himself to think. Focus.

Theo made his way to the kitchen island and stood up on his tiptoes to place the tin on the island, making Jean press a hand on her chest and Storm smile softly. Scott ruffled his hair, making him smile up at him.

“Thank you, Theo,” Jean said. “Please tell your mom we thank her as well.”

“Of course!” Theo said, his voice cheerful. “Good night!”

“Good night bub.”

“Good night Theo!”

“I’m so going to babysit when you two get together,” Rogue said through her teeth as if she was hanging by a thread while Bobby rushed to the container to open it the moment Theo left the kitchen. “I swear to God, Logan—”

“No, I agree with Bobby,” Scott said. “She’s too nice for him.”

Bobby pointed at Scott with the cookie he was holding while Logan flipped him and Storm grabbed two cookies, tossed one to Rogue and turned to Jean.

“I’ll fill Charles in about the mission, are you coming?”

“Sure,” she said and grabbed a cookie as well. “I’ll see you guys later.”

With that they both walked out of the kitchen, Storm talking about what an adorable kid Theo was before Bobby popped the cookie into his mouth, then let out a moan.

“Jesus this is too good!” he said. “No I’m serious Logan, she’s like actually pretty and nice and bakes cookies. When was the last time you did anything nice for us?”

“I saved your life like half an hour ago, dipshit,” Logan pointed out, making Rogue laugh. “And every word out of your mouth makes me think I should’ve sat that one out.”

Scott chuckled and took out a cookie out of the container, then nodded at Logan.

“Do you want to have one or do you want to go ring shopping—” he started but he was cut off when one of Bobby’s friends, Caleb, if Logan wasn’t mistaken, entered the kitchen.

“Storm said there were cookies?”

“Over there.” Bobby motioned at the kitchen island. “Theo’s mom made them.”

“Oh she's such a babe,” Caleb said as he reached out for the container, making Logan turn to him while Rogue made a face. “The things I’d do, seriously, the milf of my—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when Logan grabbed his arm and slammed it to the counter while Rogue exclaimed “Ew, Caleb!” and Scott tilted his head.

“Logan,” he said, his voice completely calm. “We’re not slamming students to flat surfaces.”

Logan gritted his teeth, glaring at Caleb whose heartbeat got much faster, the unmistakable scent of fear lingering in the air.

“Caleb, right?” he growled. “Listen Caleb, the next time I hear you talk about her, or even look at her in any way,” He unsheathed his claws, causing Caleb to let out a whine. “I will rip your fucking tongue out. Do you understand?”

Caleb nodded fervently again and Logan clenched his jaw, then pulled his hand back and Bobby grabbed Caleb by his shirt.

“It’s his first time in public, that’s why he is like this,” he said helpfully, dragging him out of the kitchen. “You fucking dumbass….”

“Sure,” Scott said after a beat, turning to Logan. “There’s nothing going on between you and her.”

Logan sipped his soda. “Shut up.”

Scott held up his hands, mocking surrender.

“Just something to think about,” he said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go find Jean. Good night.”

“And I’m gonna find Bobby and smack Caleb,” Rogue said, pushing herself off the counter. “Good night Logan.”

“Good night kid,” Logan said as they both left the kitchen and he narrowed his eyes at the container on the kitchen island before making his way to it. He grabbed a cookie to bite into it, his eyes closing as the sweetness crumbled inside his mouth, making him let out a breath.

A scene flashed before his eyes, something out of a dream; him in a cabin in the woods with her in his arms. He buried his nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent into his lungs as he pressed her warm body against his, her heartbeat getting faster before he forced himself to open his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

“Keep it together,” he muttered to himself and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, then pushed himself off the counter and made his way upstairs.

                                         *

Throughout the week, it was one mission after the other. He was beginning to think Charles was doing it on purpose, and when Friday finally arrived, as much as he hated to admit, he could barely focus on anything else.

“Come on, to the lake!” one of the boys said as he walked past them. “Ralph, where’s Theo?”

“Professor X wanted to see him, and I think he left already,” he heard the boy say. “Ugh, I was gonna show him this new fish in the lake! It’s huge!”

 Left?

No, he was still around. Logan could hear his happy chatter with someone through the chatter of the crowd but her scent wasn’t anywhere near so he followed Theo’s voice downstairs, stepping out of the building before—

“Have a nice weekend Mr. Logan!”

Logan’s head whipped around as Theo waved at him, then looked up to the man beside him as he took off his backpack so that the man could take it from him. “Uncle Jamie, this is Mr. Logan!”

What the fuck?

“Who the hell are you?” Logan asked the brunette, making him frown at the apparent hostility in his voice, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Jamie. I’m picking up the little guy today.”

“No you’re not,” Logan scoffed. “Do we even know who you are?”

“You don’t, but the school does,” Jamie said after a beat. “I appreciate the caution but his mother called Professor Xavier beforehand to let him know, so it’s okay.”

“Uncle Jamie, Mr. Logan helped mommy out with the car when it broke down, and he drove her home the other day, I heard mommy talk about it with auntie Julie!”

Jamie tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “…How helpful of him.”

“And Uncle Jamie is the hero who saved me when I was in mommy’s belly, Mr. Logan!” Theo introduced him, making Logan raise his brows.

“Is that right?”

“I was an intern, Theo was a premature birth.”

 “And you do years long follow up with all your patients or is this one a special case?” Logan asked as a dry smile twitched Jamie’s mouth before he clicked his tongue.

“It is,” he said. “I could ask you the same question though. Do you drive every parent home, or is this one a special case?”

Okay no, he did not like this prick.

However, Theo was right there so he had to mind his language, for his sake.

“You know what Theo, I’m pretty sure I just heard your friends say they were going to the lake,” Logan said, making Theo’s eyes widen. “They were talking about this huge fish. Do you want to go with Uncle Jamie or do you want to stick around a little to see that fish?”  

“Really?!”

“Go ahead,” Logan said. “Uncle Jamie will wait. Won’t you, bub?”

Theo didn’t even wait for Jamie’s answer as he darted for the yard, and Jamie gritted his teeth, shaking his head slightly.

“Unbelievable…” he muttered. “Are you even a teacher here?”

“Sometimes,” Logan said with a shrug of his shoulders and Jamie hummed, then took out his phone and touched the screen before taking it to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

“Hi Jamie!”

It was almost funny, how her soft voice managed to put Logan in a better mood instantly but he tried not to think about it.

“Hi sunshine,” Jamie said, making Logan frown. “Listen, Theo wants to hang out with his friends a little more. Should I wait or…?”

“No no, you go back to the hospital,” she said. “I’ll leave in like an hour or so anyway. It’s a good thing that he’s socializing so um—just, let him.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Thank you again Jamie, really.”

“No problem honey.”

“You can follow the way back,” Logan said, nodding in the direction of the gates when Jamie hung up and he heaved a sigh.

“I know your type, you know?”

“I doubt it.”

“No no, I do,” Jamie said, motioning at him. “This whole tough guy bullshit isn’t gonna impress her.”

A cocky smirk curled his lips. “What, are you threatened?”

Jamie scoffed a laugh.

“That’s not what this is,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already tell she deserves better than you.”

That—

That was true actually. Even Logan knew that; hell, he had been trying to make himself understand that ever since he had met her, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t.

Knowing it wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking about her.

“Guess you and I have one thing in common then,” Logan stated. “But I seem to be making better progress in a month than you have in years, huh?”

Jamie shook his head.

“See you around,” he said before he walked away and Logan took a deep breath, then ran a hand through his hair.

“Asshole…” he muttered and made his way through the yard to keep an eye on Theo in case he got too close to the lake.

                                       *

The strange thing wasn’t that he smelled her the minute she arrived.

It was what her scent did to him.

As soon as the familiar sweetness tickled his nostrils, his head snapped up and he looked around, then got up from the bench he was sitting on, painfully aware of his heartbeat getting faster. He strode through the yard, away from where Theo and his friends were running around and towards the gates, where her scent was stronger.

He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smell like him.

Jamie.

He had no idea why he was getting so worked up on the existence of that asshole, but somehow that detail alone managed to soothe the hot jealousy running through his veins. He knew Jamie had a point, he had been saying the same thing to himself ever since he met her, yet it didn’t mean…

There she was.

He didn’t know how she managed to look everyone and everything else in shadows where she herself was the only thing illuminated as if she had her own ray of sunlight falling over her. The mere sight of her was enough to make him stare at her as she waved at him, her heart pacing in her chest as soon as her eyes fell on him, the pleasant sound nearly deafening in his ears—

No.

He had to focus.

Logan had seen wild animals in captivity before. How they would be straining at their leash, how they would be slamming against their cage, nearly blind with the desire to be let loose and lately, whenever she was around, she had the same effect on him.

“Hey stranger!” she said with a bright smile as she reached him. “Are you okay? You seem…tense.”

Shit.

“Me?” Logan asked. “Nah. Hi.”

Good string of sentences there.

“Hi,” she said, looking up at him. “Look at that, you’re here.”

Logan pulled his brows together. “I live here.”

“No no, I meant—” her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the misunderstanding. “Right, of course you do. It’s just that, when I dropped Theo off on Monday you weren’t here, not that I noticed—disclaimer, I definitely did notice in case it has escaped your notice—but you know, I figured you were busy, and then Theo said…”

Alright, why did he find this cute?

Since when did he find things cute?

“And he must’ve seen someone’s suit or something because now he wants one, and I told him he can have one for Halloween but guess who didn’t think that through, because now I’ll have to tell Julie, she’s the arts and crafts person to go to in a situation like this. I’m just going to bribe her with cookies which is everyone’s favorite payment method I feel like …”

Don’t kiss her.

Do not kiss her.

A part of him wanted to go check with Charles to make sure he wasn’t fucking with his mind, to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination because this wasn’t normal. Having her within his reach, all he could think about was pulling her closer, kissing her and taking her to his bed upstairs, to taste her until the only thing left in her mind was his name, her body trembling, her soft voice hoarse while she begged for—

“And I’ll stop talking now because you’re giving me that look again, do I have something on my face?”

Fuck.

She was looking up at him with a small frown pinching her brows together so he shook his head and said the first thing he could come up with:

“I tried the cookies.”

…Yeah no, Charles had to be fucking with his mind to make him this tongue tied.

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?” she asked, her heartbeat getting faster like she was nervous to hear the answer and Logan nodded his head.

“It was amazing,” he said, making her let out a breath, a happy light shining in her eyes.

“Really?”

“I’m serious,” Logan said, “The best cookie I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Aw, that’s wonderful!” she said, smiling wide. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies, so when Theo mentioned his friend I figured— do you know where he is by the way?”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“By the lake with his friends,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

“Finally in the welcoming tour committee huh?” she joked as she started walking beside him and he chuckled.

“Only for you.”

“Much appreciated,” she said. “I was gonna come earlier actually but there was this thing at work, it was a disaster.”

“What happened?”

“Well, the grill stopped working around the lunch hour,” she said. “They fixed it but waiting for food makes people very grumpy. There was this one customer, he…” she made a face, making him frown.

“What?”

“He was in a very bad mood but thankfully he calmed down when I gave him ice tea on the house.”

Logan shook his head slightly. “You should stop being so nice to people, princess.”

That seemed to make her heart skip a beat, causing a small smile to curl his lips while her hand shot up to her mouth for her to bite at her nail.

“In my defense, that’s not being nice, that’s just being in the service industry,” she mumbled. “Good thing it was fixed fast though.”

Logan hummed.

“So…” he trailed off. “Uncle Jamie then?”

“Oh, you’ve met him?”

“I was around,” Logan lied through his teeth. “When he came here.”

“Yeah, Theo adores him,” she said, nodding her head. “Jamie saved his life when he was an intern—fun fact, some doctors don’t take you seriously when you’re pregnant at 18 and completely clueless, so I knew something was wrong but he was the only one who believed me. He got chewed out by his supervisor but he ended up saving Theo’s life.”

Logan frowned, distracted from the Jamie issue for a moment.

“His father wasn’t there?”

“Nope,” she said with a bitter smile. “He was uh…busy.”

What the fuck?

“Do you know where he is now?” Logan asked, anger shooting through him and she let out a laugh.

 “He’s in the past,” she said. “And he should stay there.”

 He wanted to insist, he really did. The guy sounded like the type of asshole who really needed to get his ass beaten, but before he could ask, she had already changed the subject.

“But yeah, Jamie is amazing,” she said. “He’s very protective, he’s like the brother I never had.”

He bit back the pleased smile threatening to pull at his lips at the second part of that sentence and hummed.

“Yeah?” he said. “Does he know that?”

“Hm?”

“That he’s the brother you never had?”

She blinked up at him in confusion, her brows pinching together before a look of realization downed on her beautiful face, her heartbeat getting faster.

“He does,” she said, nodding her head. “So does his boyfriend.”

…Ah.

He had misunderstood the situation.

That had to be what Jamie meant when he had said “That’s not what this is,” he wasn’t trying to get with her, he was genuinely cautious about strangers such as himself. That whole exchange made sense now, considering the story about him saving Theo’s life; he had met her when she was alone, and had been trying to keep her and Theo safe ever since.

Of course.

“And he’s in a very happy relationship with him,” she added. “Unlike—you know, unlike me who’s not in a relationship at all, totally single. Not that you asked but it’s like…it’s like general trivia about me, and—whoa, today is a hot day isn’t it? Because honestly, it wasn’t this hot when I left the car—”

“Mom!”

“Oh thank God,” she muttered as she turned her head to look at Theo who was running at full speed to them and Logan bit back his grin as Theo reached them and flung himself into her arms.

“I missed you bean!” she said, hugging him tight and kissing the top of his hair. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Theo said, his glasses slipping as he nodded fervently and she pushed them up again with a fond look on her face. The sight sent a warmth through Logan’s chest, a smile he didn’t even notice curling his lips. “We saw a big fish!”

“Really?” she gasped, her whole attention on him, hanging onto every word he said. “How big was it?”

“This big!” Theo spread his arms as wide as he could, making her smile widen.

“Whoa, that sounds big!” she said. “What color was it?”

She was too good at this. Even an outsider could see how excited Theo was to tell her everything, how genuinely happy he was to have her there and how attentive she was with him.

“Gray,” Theo answered. “Mom, maybe it’ll grow up to be a shark!”

Logan tilted his head and she exchanged glances with him as if telling him not to tell Theo it would not in fact grow up to be a shark, and Logan winked at her, making her giggle.

“Maybe,” she said, turning to Theo. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Theo said and she fixed his shirt, then took his backpack from him to swing it over her shoulder.

“Say goodbye to Logan.”

“Goodbye Mr. Logan!”

Logan ruffled his hair. “Have a great weekend bub.”

“I’ll see you around?” she asked and Logan couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful face before reminding himself to pull himself together.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to focus. “Don’t be too nice to people until then.”

Her smile widened and she heaved a sigh, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Don’t be too mean to people until then,” she replied and took Theo’s hand, walking away with him. He could hear her asking what else he had seen in the lake and Theo listing every single fish he had seen so he watched them until they were out of his line of sight, then let out a breath.

“Fuck…” he muttered, frowning to himself. “She’s beautiful, got it. Get your shit together.”

[luveline]

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe. 

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she���d just let him do it. 

“What happened?” 

“They were kissing.” 

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 

“Are you sure?” 

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 

“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 

“You think I’m overreacting.” 

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask. 

“Angel?” 

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 

“I didn’t really look.” 

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 

Footsteps. A door opening. 

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 

“Can you hug me?” 

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 

“I am?” 

“Just a little…” 

You try your best to stand completely still. 

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 

“Can I explain it to you later?” 

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 21

CW: discussions of mental health and past temporary character death Masterpost

“Hey Dandelion, do you have everything?” Dick asked as he peered into Danny’s room— or the room that Danny had been using since they moved to this safe house.

Now that they were moving to the Manor, Danny would be getting his actual room with the rest of them in the family wing. For those that had moved out, the Manor wasn’t their only home, but it was still home and their room was still their room. Or at least for Dick and Cass. Jason… Dick knew that it was still harder for Jason.

Thinking about it now, Dick didn’t know if he’d actually ever seen Jason actually sleep in his childhood room again. Jason was always up first, helping Alfred in the kitchen on the rare nights that he stayed over. Once Dick had fond Jason still asleep in the library, book still in hand. Maybe it was something to change. Maybe it could change, now that Danny was there to bring up the conversation.

“Danny?”

“Sorry,” Danny said with a slightly water smile. His little brother was clutching his blue bear, as he almost always was these last few days. “I, um, yeah, I think I have everything.”

Dick sat down on the edge of the bed next to Danny. “But?”

“But?” Danny repeated. His brows crunched up adorably.

Dick leaned over to bump their shoulders together. “But you don’t seem happy. If this is all too soon, we can delay.”

Danny gave a little, unhappy snort. “You all keep delaying for me. I didn’t want to meet Bruce so you kept him away. I didn’t want to tell you things and you all still haven’t made me.”

“We want you to be comfortable and feel safe.”

“I do,” Danny insisted. “I have and I… and I still ran, didn’t I? I was safe and cared for and I ran. And now I don’t want to leave here. That’s so stupid of me!”

“It’s not—”

“It is!” The words seemed to choke Danny. “It is. I trust you! I trust you and Hood and B.B. and I… I still can’t! I want to tell you, but I still can’t…”

Dick wrapped Danny up in his arms, pulling his brother tight against his chest and cradling Danny there as he sobbed. There had been a lot of tears in the last few days, and Dick knew that there would be many more. He didn’t try to shush Danny, just kept him held close until the tears ran out.

“Sorry,” Danny mumbled against Dick’s damp shirt.

Dick took a moment to think of his words. “This family is bad about trauma, which isn’t great because we have a lot of it. But we all know it. And… and you can feel completely safe and still have part of you that’s terrified because of the trauma. That if you speak it or face it or acknowledge it the trauma will suddenly have so much power over you and… and all the worst things that you fear in the dark quiet of the night will be true. It makes you fear that the same people you’re safe with and love you will look at you differently or blame you. And… um…”

He needed a moment to breathe, face buried against Danny’s dark locks, as his own monsters reared up. “And there are people who might. But not… not us. We have been through so much as a family and no mater what we’re still family. And you’re part of that too now, Danny. So it’s okay to be scared or sad or not tell us things, but none of that changes that you’re family. If we argue or get annoyed or cry we’re still family. So don’t be sorry. Please, don’t be sorry for any of it because I don’t want you to be sorry for being family, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny said, breath choked but words still sure. “Okay.”

Dick carded gentle fingers through Danny’s hair. “Look at it this way, you’ve already tamed Damian. That’s a big step in this family.”

Danny’s snort of laughter was slightly lost with the way his was still buried against Dick’s chest. “I don’t think Damian can ever be tamed. He’s like one of those… whatchamacalls it. Those tiny desert cats with the highest kill ratios for predators. Small and kitten shaped but still very wild.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right. Adorable and stabby is pretty accurate,” Dick agreed. “But it’s going better than it did with Tim! You should ask him about it— actually, you know what, don’t. Don’t ask about it. Water under the bridge. Bloody, bloody water.”

“…what?”

“Yep, never mind! Okay. Let’s double check you have everything,” Dick said, hauling them both bodily to their feet.

When in doubt, distract.

-

Alfred was struck silent when he opened the door. That was not something that happened often and in fact his sharp tongue was something that Alfred prided himself on. But in that moment, he was without words.

Young Daniel looked so distinctly like Bruce at that age, down to the haunted look of desperate hope waging battle against a highly rational mind, that Alfred was thrown back into times past. Back then, even half a decade after past Thomas and Martha’s death, Alfred still had no idea how to handle a child. At least now he had more of an idea.

“Welcome home, Master Danny,” Alfred said and stepped aside to let the newest Wayne enter the Manor.

Master Dick and Master Jason flanked the boy like towering honor guards.

“I am Alfred Pennyworth, and you may call me Alfred, or Alfie if you must. Master Jason certainly seems to prefer it,” Alfred said with a fond look Jason’s way. “If there is anything you need, at any time of day or night, to feel more comfortable here you simply need to ask me. It is my duty and honor to serve this family, which very much includes you.”

“I— ah, thank you, Alfred,” Danny said softly. He was quiet in a different way than young Bruce had been and the Bristol accent was almost shockingly absent, even though Alfred had known it wouldn’t be present.

“Of course. Now, lunch is in about an hour. I thought perhaps you might like to settle into your room a little before the meal,” Alfred said and turned slightly towards the stairs.

Danny obediently fell into step. That behavior was much more like Tim’s had been when he first arrived. Alfred tucked that thought away with the rest.

“You are in the family wing, of course. Master Bruce, Master Duke, and Master Damian are the other permanent residents of the manor. While the others still have their rooms, they come and go,” Alfred explained as they made their way to and up the stairs. “We have put together a room that we hope will be suitable for you, but anything that isn’t to your liking, we can easily change it.”

“We’ll go shopping in a few days too,” Dick said. “We can grab some things then that you might like for the walls and desk.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Danny said quickly.

“Fine’s not the goal, kid,” Jason said. “The goal is to make this home.”

Danny was silent in response to that. Alfred made another mental note to check in with Danny about the room a few times and possibly even to suggest items.

“Master Bruce’s room is at the end of the hall,” Alfred explained when they reached the top of the stairs. “Master Dick’s on the left and Master Jason’s on the right of it. This way we have Master Tim’s and Miss Stephanie’s. While she is not family, there have been enough nights she has stayed over to warrant the space. Miss Cass’, Master Damian’s, Master Duke’s next and this is yours, Master Danny.”

Alfred opened the door to the room with a little bow. As with every room in the manor, it was fitted with a bed, two side tables, a dresser, and a credenza all in the same dark wood. There had thankfully been enough time to paint the walls a two tone blue and bring a desk from one of the other rooms. The star project sat on the desk next to the basic supplies and an air diffuser. Already the room smelled softly of sandalwood. The bed was dressed in blues and creams with an extra, luxuriously soft blue blanket draped across the foot of the bed.

Danny stepped into the room almost cautiously.

Alfred moved back to give Danny room and took an even breath. Danny would settle with time.

“Lunch in an hour,” Alfred reminded the trio of Wayne boys as he took his exit. He’d best made sure that Danny’s first meal here was a fine one. After all, this would be home.

-

Dick entered the library quietly. He might be there to actively disturb Jason, but he didn’t have to be rude about it. Besides, it was nice to see Jason settled in an armchair, curled up slightly around a book. It was easy to see the little kid that Jason used to be like this.

(Dick made himself shake that vision away.)

“So,” Dick started as he settled in, arms crossed, against the back of the armchair across from Jason, “Danny’s first day in the manor seemed to go alright.”

Jason looked up from the book with a soft frown. “Yeah. We’ll see how tonight goes. Worried about nightmares for him. Just since it’s a new place and all.”

“I could see that happening,” Dick agreed. “Luckily we’ll all be close up upstairs if he does have one. You and me will just have to work not to run into each other as we bust out of our rooms.”

Jason’s fingers scrapped lightly against the pages of the book as he fanned them, gaze away from Dick and uneasy.

“Jason—”

“What did you mean about hallucinating?”

Dick’s intended question crashed to a halt against the roof of his mouth as he snapped it closed. What? When had he said…

“Um,” Dick cleared his throat to get rid of the lingering pile up. “What now?”

“When Danny ran, after your panic attack you said you were good, you weren’t at ‘the hallucinating stage yet’.” Jason looked up, pining Dick with that forever green tinted gaze. “What did that mean, Dick?”

It was Dick’s turn to look away as he scrambled to make a new plan of how to approach this. He’d never… how he was after Jason’s death, how it had broken him… that wasn’t something Dick ever wanted to burden Jason with. Bruce’s own lapse of sanity, Tim ending up in the Robin suit, Dick knew how those things weighed on Jason. As if it had been Jason’s fault he died. Dick breathed out a slow, measured breath. Guess there was no avoiding it now.

But Dick wasn’t going to let that information go without using some of it to his own favor. “Fine, I’ll explain but you have to stay and talk through the question I have for you too, deal?”

Jason took a silent moment. “…yeah, fine, deal.”

“Okay. Right. Um…” Dick rubbed his hands together, then circled the armchair and sat lightly down on the edge of the too soft cushion. Had the rich green fabric always been so itchy? “So, it’s nothing major, really, just that I have, before— at just one period actually— when I really stressed and too emotional about things, maybe had some hallucinations. But! But, I knew h—they were hallucinations and not real. It wasn’t like I was listening to the voice telling me to do anything or following after someone who didn’t exist or anything! It was— I dealt with it. It was fine. It hasn’t happened in a long time now.”

“You were hallucinating.”

“Yes.”

“A person.”

“Yes.”

“You could see them and hear them? Jesus, Dick,” Jason said, abandoning his book to rub at his face. “How bad was it? Did they talk back? Did you talk back? Did—”

“Yes! Okay, yes!” Dick exploded out of his chair. “Yes I could hear them. Yes I could see them! Yes he could talk back! Yes I talked back to him! Of course I talked back to him. You… you were gone, little wing. You were gone and I didn’t think— who could have thought you’d come back? You were gone and I know… I know he wasn’t real. I know he wasn’t you, but how I was I going to turn away any chance to talk to you when you were gone? Even when it was just… just my mind being cruel.”

“Me? You were— Dick, you were seeing me?”

The armchair cushioned Dick’s heavy fall back into it.

He shrugged.

What could he say to that? What could he say other than another torn ‘yes’?

“Jesus fucking… Dick.” Jason sounded torn.

Dick didn’t want to look up to see his brother’s expression.

Apparently Jason wasn’t having that because a moment later he was crouched in front of Dick, forcing himself into Dicks view.

“It’s not your fault,” Dick said quickly. Even as Jason’s large, calloused hand came to rest on his cheek Dick kept talking. The words needed to come out. “I just handled coming back from space and the mission to the… to the news badly. And Bruce was in a state. He’d ripped down every photo of you like just seeing your presence would break him and I think it would have! I know you— I know there are issues with you two and I’m not invalidating that, but he was so close to breaking and I was just angry about it all. And then Alfred put up that damn suit in that case like that and all I could— all I could see was the little brother that I’d never gotten to show how happy I was to have… and then I did see you. In a way. It just…”

Dick didn’t realize he was crying until Jason’s thumb wiped a tear away.

“Okay.” Jason took a deep breath. “Okay, so I’m going to need you to repeat part of that.”

“Bruce? Or that I’m sorry? Or—”

“Alfred. Alfred put the suit on display?”

Dick blinked, scattering more tears he ignored. “Yes? Did you— you didn’t know that? Did you think it was— No. Bruce couldn’t even handle seeing a photo of you! I thought Alfred putting that case in the Cave was going to kill Bruce. Drive him to finally let himself be killed like Tim said he was trying to do.”

“Right, fuck that. I’m going down and—” Jason started to stand and then took a knee again quickly and clasped Dick’s face on both sides. “No. No, first, if you ever and I mean fucking ever get to the point of hallucinating like that again you come to me or call me or anything. Do you hear me, big bird? If it gets bad or you think it will you come to me. I’m your little brother. You come to me.”

For a moment, Dick let himself close his eyes. He let himself close his eyes and breathe and take comfort in his little brother being there. “Promise.”

“Okay. Now, I’m going to go smash a case.”

Dick reached out and caught Jason’s hand. “Wait, you owe me an answer.”

“Dick.”

“You said you would! And I promise after we’ll go smash that fucking case together, okay? I’ve always hated it. But a deal is a deal.”

Jason basically deflated as he sat down on the floor at Dick’s feet. He rubbed a hand across his face. Dick felt bad, but he had bared his own soul and payment was due.

“Jay, have you ever slept in your room? Since you’ve been back, I mean. Since you’ve been back, have you ever actually slept a night in your room here?”

There was a long moment of silence where deal or no, Dick didn’t know if Jason was going to answer. Then—

“I can’t, Dick. It’s just— have you seen it? Nothing’s changed! It belongs to a dead kid and I just can’t. I can’t be him anymore.”

“Okay. Tomorrow I’ll clean it out for you.”

Jason’s head snapped to look up at Dick.

Dick shrugged. “This is your home too. Tomorrow I’ll clean it out. I can put it in a bunch of boxes and label it all or—”

“Toss it,” Jason spat and then quickly amended in a softer voice, “Not the books, leave those. And I guess… pack up and notebooks you find and stash them somewhere. You can… if there’s clothing Danny or Damian might like, give it to them. But the rest… toss the rest.”

“Okay, I can do that. And when I take Danny out in a few days you can come too and we’ll out some new things for your room too.”

“Dick,” Jason started, a clear protest. And then he sighed like all the air was let out of him. “Okay. But just like sheets and stuff.”

“Sure,” Dick agreed easily and with a too innocent smile. Before Jason could question it, Dick escaped sideways from the chair. “Now come on, we have a case to smash.”

Jason scrambled up from the floor. “We’re burning the suit after.”

“Of course we are. We’ll torch it on your grave.”

--- AN: Well this was a very dramatic section! Who knew that adding Danny to the family would help the rest of them deal with things! And yep, it's canon that the case with Jason's suit and that damn plaque are Alfred's doing, not Bruce's.

Stay delightful, darlings!

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐩 (𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩) | 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐧

summary: a random man breaks your phone and runs away before you can even yell at him. he becomes your archenemy when you learn that you lost hundreds of photos of your children. and by “your children”, you mean pups—seal pups.

pairing: alex albon x seal specialist! fem!black!reader

from, serene: do not post any gifts you get on social media. that's how people get robbed /srs. i'm trying to make my reader's have different personalities but i think i failed with this one. i'll try on the next smau. happy reading, loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | seal you later toc | next ↻

messages • yn -> coral (yn’s coworker)

twitter • alex_albon

twitter • sealteamsix

messages • max please unmute us gc -> alex

twitter dm’s • alex -> yn

messages • yn -> coral

twitter dm’s cont. • alex -> yn

messages cont. • yn -> coral • alex -> max please unmute us gc

igstory • seallygirlyn just uploaded!

[caption1; optimus prime being a very brave boy while being weighed][caption2; cutely decorated suspicious packages are about to be unboxed. if i'm inactive just know alex_albon is responsible!]

alex_albon: his name is optimus prime 🥹🤧 seallygirlyn: it's adorable right? seallygirlyn: when he first got rescued he was fighting with another pup named megatron, so the naming was easy lol

coral: that looks like a lot more than an iphone 🤨 seallygirlyn: i told him to keep it reasonable! but i fear he went too far,,,

user: wow he was really serious about finding you. lwk kinda sweet. it's giving loverboy. 🤭 seallygirlyn: loll don’t read to far into it! he’s just a generous guy ☺️ user: if you say so….

messages • yn -> coral • twitter dm’s • yn -> alex

instagram • seallygirlyn • august 26th

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, coral, and 17,364 others

seallygirlyn when you ask a man to replace your phone that he broke, he might buy you the newest phone and a bunch of other things (you told him not to get !!) you can't buy my favor, yk? fish says thank you for the stuffie. thank you from me too, alex_albon. this is seriously too much to give for a broken iphone.

view comments

seallygirlyn: going to miss using a flip phone lwk...tysm alex_albon i made it look all pretty in the basket in hopes it fixes your lightly ruined public image

➥ alex_albon: am i forgiven? ➥ seallygirlyn: i already forgave u alex, i told you this 🙂 ➥ alex_albon: just wanted you to say it where everybody can see it! they're still slandering my name ➥ seallygirlyn: you can replace my phone and my dying ipad but, you can never recover my lost seal photos :( ➥ alex_albon: i will pay for your icloud storage from this point forward until my dying breath ➥ seallygirlyn: i need that in writing with a signature ✍️

coral: i told you alex is a good guy! that's why he's been my favorite since f2!!!

➥ seallygirlyn: he's been moved from biggest adversary to occasional nemesis status ➥ alex_albon: that's improvement, i'll take it! thanks for supporting me from before the start, coral! dedicating my next points to both of you! ➥ coral: imgoingtofaint 😵‍💫

georgerussell63: ah. this must be why alex made me pay for his mcdonalds the other day. he spent all of his money on you

➥ alex_albon: GEORGE PLEASE 😟😣 ➥ user1: george is such an instigator. he lives to stir shit up i swear ➥ user2: russell, george. professional cockblocker extraordinaire.

user3: it's a little odd that a man would buy a woman he has no romantic interest in so many expensive gifts....

➥ user4: lol these gifts aren't expensive. the cost was nothing to him, he's an f1 driver and she's nothing compared to him 😒 ➥ user5: jealous little girl alert user4 🚨 ➥ user6: she's nothing compared to him? the woman who works tirelessly to rehabilitate seal pups and release them back into the ocean—the woman who's actively conserving the ocean and protecting marine life, is nothing compared to him? the man who drives an f1 car in circles? try again, girly. you're just jealous any RESPECTABLE man wouldn't give you the time of day. ➥ user7: CLOCK IT ➥ user8: read you like a book user4 🤣

user9: you have an orange cat named fish 🥺

➥ seallygirlyn: yes! isn't he the sweetest boy to ever exist? ➥ user9: i'd kill for fish 🫶🏻

user12: fish and his stuffie are the cutest!!!! i just wanna bite him

➥ alex_albon: not as cute as seallygirlyn ➥ seallygirlyn: ...who asked you? are you calling fish ugly?? ➥ alex_albon: what? NO !!! i was calling you cute?! ➥ user13: that was difficult to read ngl ➥ user14: mission failed. we'll get 'em next time.

general taglist (ask to join):

@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool

@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

seal you later taglist (ask to join):

@poppysrin@everythingabby101@mangotaitai

© httpsserene 2024 — photos used from pinterest. do not re-upload.