#I swear if I'm going to explain to them three

[pruskita]

Parallel versions

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Zero Gravity

Things Justice League knows about Danny Phantom:

He's dead (why, how, and for how long is unclear)

He's generally on the 'good' side (but contingency plans have been set up in case of 'future evil self' resurfacing, by Danny's own suggestion)

He's a figure of authority among other dead/neverborn/otherworldly/eldritch/magical beings (however, it's unclear to what kind of authority he holds and why)

He's dating one of the Bats (unclear to who, but none of them confirmed nor denied the fact, which is a confirmation on its own)

He absolutely hates only three things: toast, circus, and Christmas (neither of them explained)

His powerset is so wide that he can't even fully recount it (unclear if it's because he doesn't remember all his abilities or if he can't keep track of the new ones popping up spontaneously)

He's hot [whoever added this, you're not wrong, but I'm watching you - O.]

He has a grudge against Flash (unclear to why, but Flash seems to know the reason and won't budge regardless)

Of course, there are many more things to know about Danny Phantom, but they are mostly suspicions, rumors, and speculations. Like how sometimes the boy seems distracted and bored as if he is only going through a pre-written script; a sign of repeatedly going through the same day a few times too many, as the other time-travellers say. Or like how sometimes he knows too much - the boy is an expert in Kryptonian biology, to Clark's great surprise, and is more knowledgeable about Olympus politics than Diana herself.

There are also little things that are hard to notice and even harder to ignore once you do. How he never talks about family but likes listening to others talk about it. How he pointedly stays away from the medbay and any kind of medical staff. How he stops every time he passes one of the giant windows on the main floor of the Watchtower, smiling dreamily at the sight of vast, open space beyond it.

And then, there's The Thing that no one addresses.

When Danny Phantom doesn't pay attention, he unknowingly nullifies gravity.

The first time it happened, Bruce thought the Watchtower's artificial gravity collapsed. However, he very quickly realized that it was a local occurrence - only a few rooms and a hallway were affected - and, right in the center of it, was Danny, reading a book he borrowed (stolen) from the Wayne manor library.

The boy himself never noticed it. Which made sense, given that he defied gravity all on his own, always floating in the air above the floor.

But the others never acknowledged it either, treating the sudden absence of gravity as a sign of one, Danny appearing somewhere around, and two, him being in a good, if a bit absent, mood.

All in all, it's not the strangest thing that happens at the Watchtower on a daily basis.

And, besides, it's kind of fun.

¤¤¤

Danny, floating in the middle of the game room at Wayne manor, deeply engrossed in a video game: Eat this, sucker!

Tim, using his toes and knees to keep himself from floating up from the couch, not wanting to distract Danny from their match: Oh, you're going down.

Titus in the background:

¤¤¤

Bart, in the middle of a conversation with Kon:

Kon: ...

Bart, looking down at the cup on the floor: ... I guess he left?..

Kon: He literally went through a giant glowing portal two minutes ago, five feet away from you, but that's how you figure it out?

Bart: I have a short attention span, anyway-

¤¤¤

Barry, opening a bag of chips just for all the contents and himself as well to start floating: I swear he does this on purpose, I fucking swear.

¤¤¤

Red Tornado, coming into the training hall of Mount Justice: ...

Young Justice:

Red Tornado: I take it Danny is visiting. I'll leave you to it, then.

¤¤¤

Bruce, walking out of the conference room at the Watchtower to see this on the other end of the hallway, internally: He may be coming this way, I should warn the others in the room.

Bruce, a second later, because he is a little shit deep inside: On the other hand, it's a great surroundings awareness drill, so maybe I shouldn't.

[dcxdpdabbles]

can you write the batfam going to amity due to *reasons* and alls well until Jason feels like he SHOULDNT go near since it’s Danny’s Haunt? Like how Crime Alley is ‘his’ Haunt? And batfam thinks he’s just being dramatic but uh, yeah he isn’t.

"I'm not going in there," Jason repeated, standing on the side of the highway, arms crossed over his chest and a stubborn scowl on his face.

"Jay, please get back in the van," Bruce sighed while the rest of the Waynes stared from their seats. They had originally all gotten off, but when the second eldest had started yelling, Bruce herded everyone back inside, including Dick.

No one knows why Jason was acting like this.

A few minutes earlier, he had napped comfortably in the far back of the large van Bruce had rented. The family had been on a cross-country road trip, where they all piled in together and let the GPA lead them to their final destination- Wayne Mountain Hotsprings. Alfred had the idea to practically kick everyone out of the manor to bond.

Members of their various teams would watch Gotham for the three weeks they would be gone. This week, Kon and Bart texted Tim updates. At first, the Waynes were not entirely up for the trip, but after a few hours of driving, they all enjoyed singing random songs and researching their vacation pick.

They each got to pick one random spot they wanted to stop at one the way- tourist trap or not- and Damian had been excited to go to "America's most haunted town." He had even been able to contact local ghost hunters who were excited to give them a tour. The Waynes would spend the night at the only hotel in the city and leave tomorrow morning.

That was the plan until Jason woke up screaming at the top of his lungs, "Pull over! Pull over! I can't go in there!"

It gave everyone a heart attack. Bruce had nearly driven into the other lane as Jason had been attempting to unbuckle himself and- were it not for Cass's quick reflection- fling himself from the moving vehicle. As soon as they found a safe spot to pull over, Jason leaped from the van and placed himself in front of the Welcome to Amity Park sign

A little up the road, they could see the city's outskirts. The Fentons, the acclaimed ghost hunters, were expecting them in twenty minutes. Damian was getting angsty.

"Can you explain why you can't go into Amity Park?" Bruce questions, stepping closer. "I won't make you go in there. I just need to know what's going on."

"Don't you feel that?" Jason asks, gesturing to the air around them. "It feels unsafe."

"What does?"

"The vibes," Jason said straightly, and Bruce's left eyebrow was spammed. "The vibes are choking."

Bruce takes another step closer, voice lowering into the familiar tone of comforting a scared civilian. "Jay what do you mean by that."

Jason opened his mouth only to snap his head upwards with a scream. "He's here!"

Everyone looked up—or at least those in the van by a window—only to see nothing. There was nothing there that could have freaked out Jason so much. The sun, maybe? Gotham wasn't known for its sunlight, and perhaps the fact that he grew up without it made it extra terrifying to the Gothamite.

Jason leaped behind Bruce, hiding like he did as a child. Now that Jay was taller than his father and buckler, it was a strange sight. "I'm sorry! I swear I wasn't going in!"

"Jaylad, what-"

"Ghost detected." The robotic voice of Damian's official ghost-hunting equipment made everyone freeze. The boy had opened the door of the van, escaping Duke's attempted grasp, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by the little machine in his hand.

It came from the Fentons' online store, and although it didn't work, Damian enjoyed walking around with it, searching for the paranormal. The rest of the family saw it as an age-appropriate make-believe, sighing in relief when he waved his little box around before deeming the area safe.

As it were, Damian waved the box again, letting the machine hum and bling as it landed on a particular spot in the sky. "Ghost detected. Ghost detected. Ghost located. Ghost is ten feet before you."

"Oh wow," An unknown voice said over the sound of rushing cars on the highway. Damian's eyes widen. "Haven't seen that design of the Fenton Finder in years. First edition, isn't it?"

Damian eyes are practilly sparkling as he puffs out his chest "It is! Are you a ghost?"

"Yeah." Suddently a glowing flouting transparent boy pops into thin air. No sound, no portal, not rush of air. Just one second he's there. He offers Damian a wide warm smile, that somehow makes his glowing green eyes menecing. "I'm Danny Phantom."

He turns his eyes back to Jason as Damian gapes at him. The boy had thought Phantom was a local urban legend. He has been decorating his room with "captured" images of Phantom for years. He turns to Tim, hissing for a pen and his photo binder.

"You." Phantom points at the cowering man. "Feel strange. You're overshadowed, but at the same time, there is no foreign soul in your body. What are you?"

"Um, I'm just here on vacation with my family-oh!" Jason words are cut off as Phantom flings himself at the pair. Before Bruce or Jason can react the ghost has his hands inside of Jason chest, ramaging around like it's a bag. Oddly enough, this makes Jason blush.

"Hmm. Yeah, there is no other ghost here. Are you haunting your own corpse?" Phantom floats upwards to stare into Jason's eyes. "Or are you a Halfa?"

"My own corpse," Jason gasps, but Bruce decides he's not about to let whoever this bothers his son, pushing Phantom back. Only somewhat surprised by the fact he made contact the hero's grunts

"Kindly keep your hands to yourself."

"Sorry," Phantom mutters, flouting back. He fidgets with his glowing white hair while shifting his feet. "I just wanted to be sure he was safe. You may enter."

And with another pop, he's gone.

Damian makes a sad whine in the back of his throat, holding a picture of a blurred image of Phantom and a pen. He flipped through the binder, attempting to find the clearest one while the ghost chatted with his father and brother. "I didn't get an autograph."

"There's always next time," Tim offered, patting the boy back as he led him towards his seat in the van again. You should keep that on your person so if you run into him again, we can get it signed for you quickly."

"Okay"

"Phew," Jason breathed, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "That was terrifying. Anyway, we should get going, I don't want to be late for the Fentons."

He ignored Bruce's look, walking back as if he hadn't held them up for nearly forty minutes because the vibes were bad.

Bruce stared as Jason skipped back to the van, feeling very old and single. Maybe he should try calling the blind date Alfred had attempted to set up for him. He needs some support in raising his children. He has too many white hairs as it were.

[h1biscusgal]

Tee hee y'all, i'm not back but i loved y'all sm so take this subliminal i took six days to perfect.

I AM NOT BACK, NO, I AM SO SORRY.

my studying session been going good AND YALLLLLLL I MISS YOU SO MUCH, I CAN'T EVEN EXPLAIN.

so, last week, when i closed tumblr, my mind was reeling from one thing it kept repeating itself:

"i wanna give smth to my people in tumblr."

why? i've seen people having problems for the void, i've seen people say they are so close but their "heartbeat" stops them, some say they sleep without knowing.

so i thought.

"mf, why not a subliminal that will fucking guarantee you to enter IN EVERRRYYYY situation?"

think you need to keep awake? this sub

think you need to sleep to enter the void? still this sub

need to enter while using it? this sub

need to enter but can't have your phone with you during sleep? again this sub, you can listen to it during the day and try at night.

like WHATEVER the fuck you do, i have made a loophole for it, now for god's sake please be careful, it gave me such a headache making it my head is still pounding, it has PURE fucking delta waves and 5 set of repeated NON-LAYERED NOT TOO SPED UP affirmations, why?

these are the safest type of affirmations that penetrate the subconscious, i cannot express this enough please.

PLEASE BE FUCKING CAREFUL WITH IT, DON'T LOOP TOO MUCH, DELTA WAVES CAN MAKE YOU DEADASS TIRED.

now this? holy shit this? i call it my beautiful Voided Hibiscus project, and yes i love hibiscuses-

this sub???

here's the benefits:

Voided Hibiscus is a one-of-a-kind, high-power subliminal crafted to guarantee entry into the Void State — no matter your state of mind, environment, or experience level.

Whether you're lying still or fidgeting, wide awake or asleep, listening consciously or with it running in the background — the moment this subliminal activates, the Void becomes inevitable, it is fucking guaranteed and i made so sure of it by science.

During these exact 22 minutes and 22 seconds, your mind will swallow THE LITERAL definition of "master at void." The affirmations are layered with master precision — spoken, whispered, echoed, reversed — to penetrate the deepest layers of the subconscious, bypassing every mental block, doubt, or distraction. Delta isochronic tones pulse beneath the surface, gently entraining your brain to the perfect frequency of surrender, silence, and awareness, like ya'll i am NOT playing.

This is for you if:

You want to enter the Void effortlessly, with full certainty.

You want to enter during the day, or while sleeping — either way works.

You’re tired of trying methods and want results without effort.

You want a subliminal that works permanently — even after you stop listening.

Features:

Affirmations that dissolve fidgeting, overthinking, boredom, and resistance.

Built-in confidence: You will never doubt your ability to enter the void again.

Repetition formula designed to rewrite your subconscious with absolute certainty.

Works even if you accidentally fall asleep.

Activates the Void even when played silently or in the background.

After consistent listening, your command over the Void becomes instinctual.

like mf, you is the bored type? you is the annoyed impatient as fuck type? you is the type to try for 2 minutes and give up? homie this shit will throw you in the void while you move, fidget, breathe hard, feeling bored, sleep accidentally.

like what the fuck am i supposed to do next-

THIS CAN BE USED IN THREE WAYS:

awake method: lay down and have it on your head (no mf you won't sleep accidentally and ruin it bc i backed it up that you'll wake up there) and simply repeat affs for it, watch yourself enter without even knowing how the fuck you entered, i swear if you trust? you'll enter within the duration of those 22 minutes and 22 seconds, there's no "when", it's like a guarantee.

sleep method: if you is the type that yo parents let you have your phone with you? use it overnight and watch yourself wake up in the void.

thru-theday method: just listen to it during the day and do any method before sleep or just anywhere and bam.

there's no "how" here, this sub? almost made me tumble, i am not tryna brag, no seriously, but i thought to post smth that helps ppl, now let me stop yapping the fuck out and take this:

(so sorry for this quick and messy post-)

good luck loves, and send me the asks and messages coming! i'll be on here for a very few minutes and see what asks there is to answer.

EDIT: I AM SORRY WHAT THE FUCK???? LAST TIME I CHECKED I HAD 661 FOLLOWERS NOW IT'S A 1700 SMTH????? I AM SCREAMING PLEASE I LOVE YALL SO MUCH??? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT I WANNA CRY PLEASE.

[cheftsunoda]

Hey after seeing all the pictures from lorenzo's wedding i was wondering if you could please write something about charles leclerc getting married to his childhood best friend

finally — cl16

smau/blurbs

charles leclerc x !best friend fiance reader

yn and charles have been inseparable since they were five years old. they've been through it all together—career highs and lows, heartbreak, and even the devastating loss of charles' father. through every chapter, yn was by his side, and she always will be. she’s been an honorary leclerc her whole life… so why not make it official?

fc : no official face claim just randomly girlies from pinterest.

(a/n) : the pictures from their ceremony are so effing cute. i love the leclerc fam so much.

—

yn_ln

liked by carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc, charlotte2304 & 2,090,007 others.

yn_ln : trip with my girlies before the big day ♡

tagged : franciscagomes, carmenmmundt, iamrebeccad, charlotte2304 and yourbff

—

view 58,305 other comments.

georgerussell63 : the guys trip was not this organized or aesthetic. thanks for making us look bad, ladies.

liked by yn_ln, carmenmmundt and franciscagomes

↳ yn_ln : i knew when arthur was planning it that it would not be.

liked by georgerussell63, lando, charles_leclerc and arthur_leclerc

↳ arthur_leclerc : yn do you not love me anymore??

↳ yn_ln : i love you more than i love most things but you are not organized arthurrrr

↳ arthur_leclerc : i pulled it off, no?

↳ yn_ln : that i will not comment on

↳ yn_ln : all i'm saying is i'd rather have kika and carmen planning than arthur and lando

liked by carmenmmundt, franciscagomes, georgerussell63 and lando

charles_leclerc : hope you had the best time, mon ange. now come home to meeeeee

liked by yn_ln

↳ arthur_leclerc : by the second day of the trip he was complaining that you weren't there and when i explained that was the purpose, he immediately wanted to go home.

liked by yn_ln and lando

↳ yn_ln : aw charlieee. be home soon:)

liked by charles_leclerc

iamrebeccad : the best trip for the most beautiful bride. i love you!

liked by yn_ln

↳ yn_ln : love you more becs

charlotte2304 : my beautiful sister in law! can't wait for the big day!!

liked by yn_ln

↳ yn_ln : the best sister in law evaaa. love youuuu

leclerc_pascale : all my beautiful girls 🥹

liked by yn_ln

↳ yn_ln : je t'aime maman<3

—

The sky looked like a watercolor painting—soft streaks of pink and lavender melting into the horizon as the sun dipped into the sea. I swirled the last of my rosé in the glass, letting the breeze from the Capri coast brush against my skin as the girls laughed around me.

Kika was crying from laughter at something Rebecca had said under her breath, her head resting against her shoulder like she couldn’t breathe. Carmen was locked in an intense internal war between ordering another glass of prosecco or getting the three-tier cake plate we’d all been side-eyeing since we sat down. And Charlotte? Charlotte had her camera out again, zooming in on Carmen’s face like she was capturing a historic moment.

“If you post that photo of me mid-bite, I will literally throw your lens into the sea,” Carmen muttered without looking up.

Charlotte barely blinked. “You think I won’t dive in after it?”

“You’re unwell,” Carmen said.

“I’m an artist,” Charlotte corrected.

“You’re annoying,” Carmen shot back, but she was smiling.

I leaned back in my chair and just watched them—all of them. My girls. My family. The kind of women who show up for you in every way that matters. I knew I was supposed to be the bride, the one everyone was celebrating, but right now? I just felt like the luckiest friend in the world.

“This is surreal,” I said, mostly to myself, but Rebecca turned toward me instantly.

“What is?”

I took a breath. “All of this. I remember being fifteen, curled up on the couch with Pascale, watching wedding shows and swearing I’d never cry at my own. I didn’t think I was the type. But now…” I paused, looking down at my lap before glancing back up at them. “Now I think I might cry the whole damn day.”

Kika reached across the table and took my hand. “I’ll cry with you.”

“I’ll cry louder,” Carmen added, dramatic as ever.

“I’ll film it,” Charlotte said, unrepentant.

Rebecca laughed. “I’ll bring tissues and tequila. We all have our roles.”

I felt the tears coming then—because of course they were. “You all mean so much to me,” I whispered. “I know people love to joke about the WAG clique or whatever, but you’re more than that. You’re my best friends. You’re my sisters. I wouldn’t be the woman I am right now—this happy, this in love, this ready—without you.”

There was a pause, and then Carmen stood up, lifting her wine glass. “To YN. The first bride I’ve ever seen not lose her mind over flower arrangements.”

“To YN,” they echoed, glasses clinking.

“To love,” Kika added.

“To forever,” Rebecca said.

Charlotte raised her camera. “To one hell of a wedding."

I wiped my eyes with the edge of my napkin, laughing as I cried.

“To everything,” I whispered.

And in that moment, with the sunset melting behind them and laughter echoing through the warm Capri air, I knew: I was ready for forever. And I wasn’t walking into it alone.

—

I hadn’t even made it through the front door before I heard his footsteps.

“Amour?” Charles’ voice echoed through the hallway—hopeful, a little breathless.

I barely dropped my suitcase before I saw him. He was barefoot, in sweatpants and the old hoodie I’d stolen a thousand times, standing in the middle of the hallway like he wasn’t sure if he should run or wait for me to. His hair was messy, eyes soft, and I felt something in me melt.

“You’re really back?” he asked, voice just above a whisper.

I dropped everything and walked straight into his arms. He caught me like he always did—effortlessly, instinctively, like his arms were made for this exact moment. I tucked my face into the curve of his neck.

“I missed you,” I whispered into his skin.

“I was going insane,” he murmured, pulling me tighter. “Arthur told me to get a grip. Even Lorenzo said I was being dramatic.”

I laughed into his shoulder. “You were being dramatic. You FaceTimed me during dinner with Kika and Rebecca to ask where your favorite charger was.”

“Because you always pack it,” he defended, and I could feel his smile against my temple. “You pack everything right. And nothing felt right without you here.”

I leaned back just enough to look up at him. His hands settled on my waist, grounding me.

“You know what’s crazy?” I asked softly.

“What?”

“I had the most amazing trip. The girls were perfect. The food? Outrageous. And the views—Capri at sunset is unreal.” I paused, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. “But none of it felt like home. Not really. Not like this. Not like you.”

His eyes searched mine for a long, quiet moment.

“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” he said, voice raw now, no teasing left. “But somehow I keep loving you more in moments like this. When it’s simple. When it’s just us, standing in a hallway, and it hits me that I get to spend the rest of my life coming home to you.”

I blinked against the tears building in my eyes. “You’re going to make me cry before I’ve even taken my shoes off.”

“Let’s sit,” he said gently, taking my hand.

He led me to the couch, and we curled up together in that quiet way only people who know each other down to their bones can. My legs over his. His thumb tracing lazy circles on my arm. The TV played something neither of us were watching. The world felt hushed. Soft.

“I kept thinking,” he said suddenly, voice low, “how funny it is that everyone calls you an honorary Leclerc.”

I smiled. “Mmhmm.”

“But you’ve always been more than that,” he continued. “Even before I put a ring on your finger, before any of this… you were mine. In every way that matters.”

“I know,” I said quietly.

He looked down at me, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“Soon, it’ll be official. But to me, you’ve always been family. You’ve always been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I reached for his hand and laced our fingers together, pressing my forehead to his.

“Then let’s never do life apart,” I whispered. “Not for a trip. Not for a second. Not ever.”

He kissed me then—slow, sweet, like we had all the time in the world. And for the first time since I left for that trip, I didn’t feel like something was missing anymore. I was home.

—

I found Pascale in the garden, exactly where I knew she’d be. The sun was beginning to set, painting soft gold across the stone paths and the overgrown lavender that lined them. She was seated at the old table, her reading glasses low on her nose, a notebook open beside a half-finished glass of white wine. She looked up and smiled when she saw me. That smile—the one that made me feel like a daughter long before anyone called me one out loud.

“Ma chérie,” she said softly, patting the seat beside her. “Come sit.”

I didn’t hesitate. I curled into the chair next to her, tugging my sweater a little tighter around me as the breeze picked up.

“Almost time,” she said, glancing sideways at me.

“Three days,” I nodded. “Three days and I marry your son.”

She reached out and took my hand in both of hers.

“You’ve been part of this family since you were five years old,” Pascale said, voice thick with warmth. “And in all that time, I’ve never seen Charles look at anyone the way he looks at you. Not once.”

I felt the tears rush to the back of my throat without warning. I blinked quickly, trying to keep them at bay. “You know,” I whispered, “I used to sit on this bench with you and pretend we were talking about my wedding. Like it wasn’t a dream.”

She smiled, her thumb brushing gently over my knuckles.

“It was never a dream, YN. It was always going to be you. Even when Charles didn’t realize it, I did.”

I turned to her, eyes glassy. “You’ve loved me like your own. Always. I never thanked you for that properly.”

“You never had to,” she said simply. “You’re my girl. My daughter. Paper or rings won’t change that.”

A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. Pascale reached over and wiped it away gently.

“I know your mother would be so proud of you,” she added, her voice soft and steady. “But if it means anything… I’m proud of you too. And I’m so honored to stand beside you on this day. To watch you walk toward this life you’ve built with him.”

I couldn’t speak. I just reached out and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly as she held me right back. We stayed like that for a while. Quiet. Tangled in love that didn’t need explanation.

When I pulled back, Pascale laughed softly, brushing my hair behind my ear. “I hope you’re not planning on wearing makeup during the ceremony.”

“Not if you keep saying things like that,” I sniffled.

She smiled and stood, picking up her glass.

“Come,” she said, offering me her hand. “Let’s make dinner. You’ll need to eat something that isn’t cake soon.”

I took her hand. Three days from now, I’d marry the love of my life. But in this moment, I just stood barefoot in a garden with the woman who had helped raise him, and somehow, raised me too. And I felt whole.

—

I found Arthur sitting on the kitchen floor. Not the couch. Not the armchair. The floor—legs stretched out, back against the cabinet, a banana in one hand and an unopened water bottle in the other like he was debating which one to commit to first.

He looked up when I walked in and gave me a dramatic sigh. “I’m emotionally unwell.”

I blinked. “Did something happen?”

He pointed the banana at me like it was a weapon. “You’re getting married. That’s what happened.”

I laughed, walking over and sliding down beside him on the tile. “You knew this was coming. You've helped plan half of it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, taking a bite. “Doesn’t mean I’m ready to let go of my childhood best friend just yet.”

The words were said half-jokingly, but the way his eyes didn’t meet mine told me he meant it more than he wanted to admit.

I nudged his shoulder with mine. “You’re not losing me, Arthur.”

“You say that now,” he mumbled. “But soon you’ll be a married woman. You’ll move into some big house with Charles and have like… four children and a vineyard and I’ll just be some weird uncle who shows up with bad gifts and stories no one believes.”

I grinned. “First of all, you already bring bad gifts. Second, you’re going to be the godfather to every single one of those hypothetical children, so good luck escaping.”

He gave me a soft, crooked smile but didn’t say anything. The silence stretched for a moment. Then, without looking at me, he spoke again.

“You’ve always been there,” he said quietly. “Since we were kids. I don’t have many memories that don’t include you. You made our family feel full after everything with papa. You made it feel… okay again.”

That ache hit me right in the chest.

“I never said thank you for that,” he added.

I swallowed hard. “You never needed to. I needed you all just as much. Maybe more.”

Arthur set the banana down, clearly abandoning it entirely, and finally turned to face me. “You’re going to be a Leclerc in name soon, but you’ve always been one in every way that matters. You were my sister long before Charles finally realized he was in love with you.”

I let out a teary laugh. “God, don’t remind me how long that took.”

He smiled, eyes a little glassy now.

“I’m really happy for you,” he said softly. “But just know… you ever need a break from the fairytale? I’ll be here. On this floor. With a banana.”

I reached over and hugged him—tight, like we were kids again, like the version of us who used to sit side by side on the stairs during family dinners when the grown-ups talked too long. He hugged me back just as tight.

“I love you, Art,” I said into his hoodie.

“Love you too,” he said, clearing his throat and pulling back before it could get too emotional. “Now go before I start crying and ruin my street cred.”

“Arthur, you cried during a Paddington commercial last week.”

“Okay, but he hugged a stranger, YN. What do you want from me?!”

I stood, laughing, and reached down to help him up. He took my hand and pulled himself to his feet dramatically.

“Two more days,” he said, brushing imaginary dust off his sweatpants. “And then you become my sister-in-law legally. Can’t wait to see how you try to boss me around with a fancy new title.”

I grinned. “Oh, sweet boy. I’ve always bossed you around.”

He rolled his eyes and slung his arm around my shoulders as we walked out of the kitchen. And in that moment, my heart felt so full it could’ve burst. I wasn’t just marrying the love of my life—I was marrying into a family that had always, always been mine.

—

The house was quiet. Most of the guests had gone to bed, the soft murmur of laughter and music now just a memory echoing through the halls. The air was thick with anticipation—tomorrow lived in every breath, every heartbeat, every glance Charles and I stole across the room during dinner.

I found him out on the balcony, just past midnight, leaning on the railing and looking up at the stars. He must’ve heard me step out because he turned before I said anything. For a moment, neither of us spoke. He just looked at me, like he was memorizing me.

“You okay?” I asked softly, walking toward him.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

I slipped into his arms, and he held me like he wasn’t ready to let go. I buried my face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in—warm skin, clean cologne, and something so undeniably Charles it made my chest ache.

“I keep thinking about us as kids,” he murmured. “How we’d sneak off during family dinners and you’d steal my dessert and I’d swear I hated you.”

“You did hate me,” I teased gently, voice muffled against him.

He smiled. “No. I think I loved you even then. I just didn’t know what to do with it.”

I pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were soft, but shining. A storm of emotion swirled behind them—joy, fear, nostalgia, all colliding under the weight of what tomorrow meant.

“Charles,” I whispered, taking his hand and pressing it to my chest, “can you feel how fast it’s beating?”

He nodded. “Mine too.”

“I’m not scared,” I said. “Not of marrying you. Not of forever. But it’s all… so much. I think my heart might burst.”

He exhaled slowly, his forehead resting against mine.

“I spent so long dreaming about this,” he said. “About you. About waking up and rolling over and you being there, every day. No race, no podium, no win has ever meant as much as you saying ‘yes.’”

Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill.

“I know tomorrow will be beautiful,” he continued, his voice thick now, “but this… right now, this quiet moment with just you? It’s perfect.”

I wrapped my arms around him again, tighter this time, like I could freeze us in place.

“We’re going to be okay, right?” I whispered.

He pulled back just enough to cup my face, brushing away a tear with his thumb.

“Better than okay,” he promised. “We’ve already been through so much—loss, distance, change… and we always found our way back to each other. This is the easy part now.”

“You really think marriage is the easy part?” I laughed tearfully.

“With you? Yeah,” he said. “Even on the hard days, I’ll choose you. Every time.”

I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes.

“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But tradition says—”

“Screw tradition.”

He smiled. “Just one more night. Then no one gets to separate us again.”

I opened my eyes to meet his. “You promise?”

He nodded, pulling me close again. “I promise you everything.”

A long silence passed between us. Not empty—just full. Full of years of love and laughter and growing up side by side. Full of everything we never said but always felt.

Eventually, I stepped back, tears slipping down my cheeks. “Okay. Go. Before I beg you to stay.”

Charles hesitated, then gently kissed my forehead. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll be waiting at the end of that aisle.”

“And I’ll run to you,” I whispered back. “Always.”

He held my gaze for one more heartbeat, then turned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me with nothing but the soft scent of him and the echo of his promise. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of tomorrow. Because I knew who was waiting for me at the end of it.

—

The morning sun poured through the windows, catching flecks of champagne bubbles in the air, soft music floating from the speaker in the corner. The suite smelled like roses and perfume and hairspray. It was quiet and chaotic all at once—curlers heating, dresses steaming, someone laughing in the bathroom, someone else crying over the flower arrangements for the third time. I sat in the middle of it all, wrapped in a white satin robe with “bride” stitched across the back, feet tucked under me on the couch as Carmen tried to fix the pin in her hair for the fifth time.

“Why does it look better when Kika does it?” she groaned, handing the bobby pins over dramatically.

“Because Kika is a witch,” Rebecca said, lounging on the bed with a pastry and absolutely no concern for the crumbs falling onto her dress bag. “A fashionable, magical witch.”

Kika curtsied from the vanity, her own hair in perfect curls already. “Guilty.”

Charlotte sat beside me, camera in hand as always, snapping soft little candids of everyone—Carmen’s furrowed brow, Rebecca’s laugh mid-bite, the way Kika’s hand rested gently on my shoulder as she walked by. I knew, years from now, I’d look back on these and cry.

“I still don’t feel like this is real,” I whispered, staring at my hands in my lap.

Charlotte looked up. “Want me to pinch you?”

“No,” I smiled. “I want to freeze this. All of it.”

Rebecca crawled across the bed and plopped beside me, stealing my mimosa. “You nervous?”

I hesitated. “I thought I would be. But I’m not, really. I just… feel full. Like everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.”

There was a collective “aww” and then Kika pulled me up to my feet. “Good. Because it’s time.”

“Time for what?” I blinked.

She reached behind one of the garment bags and pulled out the box. My dress. The room fell still. It was like the world shifted slightly in that moment. Like we all knew this was the beginning of something we’d never forget.

“Let’s get you into it,” Charlotte said, setting her camera down and standing.

They helped me into the gown slowly, carefully—hands buttoning, zipping, smoothing fabric and whispering reassurances. It was quiet again, but not empty. It was reverent. Holy, almost. And when I finally turned to the mirror, fully dressed, veil delicately pinned, the girls all behind me like an ethereal little army—I gasped. Not because I looked beautiful. But because I looked ready.

Rebecca reached for my hand, tears in her eyes. “He’s going to fall apart.”

“He already did when he saw her in sweatpants last week,” Carmen teased.

We all laughed, even as we cried.

“You’ve always been a Leclerc,” Kika said softly, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Now it’s just official.”

And I stood there, surrounded by the women who had seen every version of me—the nervous wreck, the lovesick fool, the ride-or-die friend—and I knew I was the luckiest girl in the world. Because before I walked down the aisle, I got to walk through life with them.

—

The room had gone quiet again after the girls left. It was just me now. Me, my breath, the faint music wafting in from the ceremony space, and the weight of everything this moment held. I stood by the window, hands resting gently on my stomach, gown cascading like a dream around me. I felt… still. Not nervous. Just full. With love, with joy, with memory. There was a soft knock.

“Come in,” I called, turning toward the door.

It creaked open slowly—Arthur peeked his head in first, hair slightly tousled from running his hand through it a million times. “Hey,” he whispered, like anything louder would shatter the moment.

Behind him, Pascale stepped in slowly, hands to her chest as soon as she saw me.

“Oh…” Her voice cracked instantly.

Arthur let out a shaky laugh. “You look like something out of a fairytale. Charles is going to faint.”

I smiled, blinking back the tears that started to sting my eyes again. “You think?”

“Definitely,” he said, coming closer. “I almost just did and I’m not even in love with you.”

Pascale reached me next. She didn’t say anything right away—just reached up and cradled my face like she had since I was a little girl. Her thumb swept gently under my eye.

“My beautiful girl,” she said, voice thick. “You take my breath away.”

I leaned into her touch, feeling like I was five again, sitting on her kitchen counter eating cookies while she told me stories about Charles as a baby.

“You sure you’re ready to be really part of this family?” she teased softly.

“I always have been,” I whispered.

She nodded, tears brimming. “Yes. You always have.”

Arthur stepped up beside her, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve like he was pretending not to be crying. “We’re supposed to escort you,” he said lightly. “Make sure you don’t run away.”

I smiled and held out my arms. “Guess I’m in good hands, then.”

They each took one—Pascale on my left, Arthur on my right. We started walking slowly, out of the bridal suite and down the quiet hallway that led to the garden, where the music had changed. I recognized the song instantly—it was the one Charles always hummed when he cooked. My heart tightened.

“Before we go out there,” Arthur whispered, “just… know that we love you. Deeply. Always have.”

Pascale nodded. “And this isn’t the beginning of something. It’s just the continuation of the love we’ve always shared.”

I stopped just before the final turn, where the aisle would appear, and turned to look at both of them.

“You two are my home,” I said softly. “I don’t know how I got this lucky, but I promise I’ll carry you both with me—every step, every day.”

Arthur kissed the side of my head, and Pascale rested her forehead against mine for a second, breathing me in like she was trying to hold onto this forever. And then the doors opened. The music swelled. And with the mother who raised me and the brother who always protected me, I walked toward the love of my life—toward forever.

—

The world fell away the moment I saw him. There could’ve been hundreds of people in the crowd, soft music playing, petals scattered like whispers on the aisle—but all I could see was Charles.

He stood at the end of the aisle like he’d been waiting for me his whole life. Like he’d known I was coming, even when we were just kids fighting over the last cookie at dinner or stealing glances during teenage summers. His suit was sharp, dark, and perfect, but it was his expression that brought me to the edge of tears—eyes already shining, mouth trembling with a smile that looked just as overwhelmed as mine. Arthur squeezed my hand gently on my right, Pascale’s on my left. I could feel both of them holding me steady, grounding me.

“You’ve got this,” Arthur whispered, smiling at me with that mix of mischief and protectiveness he always carried. “Go get your boy.”

I laughed through a tear as we began the walk. Slowly, deliberately. Every step forward was a step closer to a new chapter, a new name—but the same love that had been growing quietly, fiercely, for years. Charles didn’t take his eyes off me, not for a second. When I reached him, Arthur and Pascale each kissed my cheek—Arthur pretending to wipe sweat off his brow like he’d just run a marathon. Pascale whispered, “I love you,” and passed my hand to Charles with a reverence that shattered something in me. His hand closed around mine. Warm. Sure. Trembling just a little.

“Hi,” I breathed, trying not to cry.

He smiled. “Hi, mon amour.”

The officiant spoke, but the words were a blur. Something about family, about commitment, about love being a choice every day. I nodded along, clutched Charles’ hand tighter, and took in every inch of him. The way his thumb brushed mine. The single tear that slipped down his cheek. The way his chest rose and fell like he was trying to memorize the moment just like I was. Then came the vows. He insisted on going first.

Charles pulled a slightly crumpled paper from his pocket and chuckled. “I tried to write this so many times,” he began, voice thick with emotion. “And every time I did, it felt too small. Nothing I write could ever match what you are to me.”

I squeezed his hand and felt a sob building in my throat.

“You’ve been part of my life for so long,” he continued, eyes never leaving mine. “My constant, my anchor, my chaos, my calm. I’ve loved you in every way two people can love each other—quietly, loudly, stubbornly, patiently.”

He paused, took a breath. “You held my hand when I lost my father. You kept our family together when we didn’t know how to keep going. And somewhere in all of that… I realized I couldn’t imagine a world where I didn’t get to come home to you.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“I promise to never stop choosing you,” he whispered. “Even when life is loud and messy and we’re both exhausted. I will love you in every language, in every season, for the rest of my life.”

He folded the paper with shaking fingers and exhaled, eyes still full of wonder and love. My turn. I had my vows written too—neatly typed, with little notes in the margins. But I didn’t reach for them.

Instead, I looked at him—my best friend, my heart, my Charles—and let it pour out of me.

“You’ve been in every chapter of my life,” I began softly. “Even when we didn’t know what we were to each other. You’ve made me laugh when I thought I forgot how. You’ve believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

I reached up and gently wiped a tear from his cheek.

“You make everything feel like home. I promise to carry your heart as gently as I can, to fight for us when it’s hard, and to never let you forget how loved you are—not just by me, but by everyone who knows you.”

His hand trembled in mine. I knew mine did too.

“I promise to dance in the kitchen with you, to cheer you on, to grow old with you… and to love you more every single day, even when we’re eighty and bickering about grocery lists.”

He laughed through a tear.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I’ve always loved you.”

We exchanged rings, hands shaking but certain. And then—

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The world stilled.

“You may kiss the bride.”

And Charles did—he stepped forward like he’d been holding back an entire lifetime just for this moment, cupping my face and pressing his lips to mine with such care and sweetness that the world around us burst into cheers and clapping, but all I could hear was the sound of his breath mixing with mine. When we pulled apart, forehead to forehead, he whispered

“Je t’aime. My wife.”

And I choked out a laugh-sob.

“My husband.”

As we turned to walk back down the aisle—his hand wrapped tightly around mine, the future shining bright ahead of us—This was the beginning of everything. And I had never felt more whole.

—

yn_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, franciscagomes & 10,035,045 others.

yn_leclerc : married my best friend. my heart is so full it could burst. forever starts now 🤍

tagged : charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and leclerc_pascale

—

view 345,407 other comments.

charles_leclerc: my wife. my everything. forever 🤍

liked by yn_leclerc

arthur_leclerc: still crying. you were the most beautiful bride (but i still looked pretty good too, not gonna lie)

liked by yn_leclerc

leclerc_pascale : Mon ange. My heart is so full. Bienvenue officiellement, ma fille. 💍

liked by yn_leclerc

pierregasly: i told charles not to cry too much and then cried harder than him. what a day

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

carmenmmundt: brb sobbing. happiest day for the happiest couple ❤️

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

georgerussell63: everything about this day was perfection. congratulations, you two 🥂

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

—

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_leclerc, leclerc_pascale, arthur_leclerc and 14,030,007 others.

charles_leclerc : Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc has a nice ring to it. Love you forever, Mon Ange.

tagged : yn_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and leclerc_pascale

—

view 578,012 other comments.

arthur_leclerc: still recovering from how hard i cried. love you both sm. (be prepared to cry at my post btw)

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

yn_leclerc : it’s the “forever” for me. i love you so much, mon amour 🤍

liked by charles_leclerc and arthur_leclerc

leclerc_pascale : My heart is complete. The most perfect day for the most perfect couple 🕊️

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

carlossainz55 : never thought i’d cry at a wedding. and yet here we are.

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

lando : don’t mess this up, leclerc. she’s out of your league 🤣❤️

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

lilymhe : this post just made me believe in love again ngl

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

↳ alexalbon : um hello????

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

↳ alexalbon : congratulations guys!! love you

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

lorenzotl : took you long enough, brother! love you dearly, yn. so happy to have you 'officially' part of the family.

liked by yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc

—

arthur_leclerc

liked by yn_leclerc, charles_leclerc, lorenzotl & 5,038,004 others.

arthur_leclerc : Watching my brother marry his best friend was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. Seeing them so deeply in love, so sure of each other—it reminded me that true love is patient, kind, and worth every moment. I’m so proud to call them family, and even prouder of the woman who’s been part of our story since the beginning. Here’s to forever, Mr. & Mrs. Leclerc. You inspire me more than you know.

tagged : charles_leclerc and yn_leclerc

—

view 120,558 other comments.

yn_leclerc : oh im crying again. you’ve always been my rock, arthur. thank you for being part of our forever 🤍love you to the moon and back little brother <3

liked by arthur_leclerc and charles_leclerc

leclerc_pascale : Mon cœur, your words brought tears to my eyes. So proud of the man you’ve become.

liked by arthur_leclerc

charles_leclerc : we’ve been through so much together—and now this. wouldn’t have wanted anyone else by our side.

liked by arthur_leclerc and yn_leclerc

alexalbon: brother goals right here. 💙

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and yn_leclerc

—

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 3

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : life on campus with a killer on the loose, the FBI makes an arrest word count : 2k warning : canon-typical violence, swear words (one use of the f-word) A/N : thank you so so much for all the love on this story !!! I'm so glad you all enjoy it <333 I'll probably do a part 4, it may be the last part, idk yet :)

part 1, part 2, part 4

"Spencer, I realise your concern, but lots of women look somewhat like this." It wasn't lost on Spencer what Hotch was trying to do by calling by his first name. "Hotch, she- she could be right next to them. She fits his type right down to the colour of her eyes!" "Spencer, man, you need to think rationally." Derek placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Lots of women have that hair colour and length, it's in style right now, right Emily?" "Yeah, definitely." "Look, I just- I need to make a call."

When Spencer had called you sometime in the evening, you'd been expecting him to tell you he was going to come home late and to not wait up for him. What you weren't expecting was for his voice to be the most serious and stern you'd ever heard it. "Don't go outside until I come home, okay?" He knew it was entirely irrational. The unsub only took women in broad daylight, you weren't facing any more risks than usual. But he couldn't take a chance. Not with this. Not with you. "What? Why?" "Just- I'll explain everything when I come home, I'll be there in a couple hours, but please, don't leave the apartment. And make sure everything is locked." "Spencer, what's going on?" "Can you just-" He paused, forcing himself to remain calm. "Look, do as I say, please. I'll explain everything later, I promise." You hesitated for a moment. Luckily for you, you weren't working at the bar tonight. Luckily for Spencer, you liked him enough to indulge him. "Okay." "Thank you."

"Oh my God, no, absolutely not!" "Y/N, it's for your safety, don't you understand that?!" "My safety? What about my life?"

This was the first real fight you'd ever had. You'd had disagreements, of course, he didn't like you leaving your empty cups and glasses all over the place. You told him off for waking you in the morning by making too much noise. Sometimes you'd get jealous if Geoffrey slept in Spencer's bed rather than yours. Yes, you'd had your fair share of arguments, but none quite like this.

"I'm not asking you to give up your life, you're being totally-" You scoffed loudly, interrupting him. "Spencer, you might as well! Do you realise what you're suggesting I do? You want me to give up on going outside, not go to any of my classes, not see any of my friends, not go to work, don't you see what bullshit that is? It's putting a cross on my social life, my education and my work!" You gesticulated angrily as you speak, feeling heat rising to your face. "I already told you, it's for your own safety." He sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He wasn't even looking at you. A tiny, tiny piece of you wanted to slap him. "I will not stop living my life because some psycho thinks it's fun to kill innocent girls! I won't!" You crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to stomp your foot.

"You're being incredibly childish right now." You hated how he managed to stay calm. You wanted him to get just as angry as you were, livid even. It wasn't fair that you were the only one getting upset. "Are you making all the girls who look like me give up everything for the sake of their safety?" Your tone was mocking and mean but you didn't have it in you to care at the moment. He met your eyes at last, lips turned downwards into a frown. Finally, some sort of emotion. "Don't do that, Y/N," he warned in a low voice. "No, I think it's a valid question. Is your boss making an announcement to the press that all the girls in Mary Washington University who look like the three last girls should stay inside? Is he?" you pushed. Spencer looked away from you again, shaking his head in disbelief at your attitude. "No, he isn't."

"Then why do you expect me to do that?!" You threw your hands in the air, beyond frustrated. For a logical person, Spencer's behaviour wasn't making any sense at the moment. "I don't expect you to do it. I want you to do it, I need you to do it." You could feel his calm facade breaking, piece by piece. "Why, Spencer, fucking why?!" "Because!" He finally exploded, jumping to his feet and slapping his palms onto the table. You didn't jump. "Because it's you, Y/N! I can't work this case if I know you're in danger every single day! If I know yours could be the next dead body students ogle at on the university's front lawn! If I know it's your picture they're going to hang up next to the other victims! I just can't do it!"

Oh.

You let yourself fall down on the couch, running your hands over your face. You were both stepping into uncharted territory. You'd tip-toed this line before but had never crossed it yet. And this was not the way to do it. You were not going to cross the border from friendship into something more by screaming at each other. Spencer seemed to read your silence as distress.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." He softly trudged over to the couch and sat down next to you. "No, it's okay, I- I kind of wanted you to. I'm sorry for getting so upset." You take his hand in your lap and intertwine your fingers. "I understand, I'm asking too much of you, it's selfish." He gives your hand a squeeze. "I just can't stand the thought of anything happening to you." You sit in silence for a little while, processing.

"I just can't hide while I wait for other girls to be killed, Spencer, it wouldn't be fair." Sometimes, Spencer hated how good of a person you were. If your morals and personal ethics were some of the things he liked about you the most, he couldn't help but curse them in this moment. "I don't care about fair," he mumbled, hating how puerile he sounded. You cooed and laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I won't promise you anything, but I'll try to always be with someone around campus. I'm usually with my friends anyway. And I can share my location with you all the time if that's reassuring for you." "I'd like that, thank you. And... what about when you're at work?" "I can ask Paul to walk me to my car." Paul was the manager at the bar you worked at, Quantequila. His past was a mysterious blend of prison, MMA fighting and crochet clubs. He liked you plenty and you knew he wouldn't mind walking you to your car for a while. "Thank you."

Over the next week, you did just that. Many students started moving in groups and avoiding being alone at all costs after the FBI released the profile and the pictures of the last victims.

"We're looking for a local white man, early twenties. He may have moved here a year ago, we figure he's either in his first year of BA or MA. This is someone you don't notice, he's shy and introverted, he doesn't participate in class and he won't talk to people if he can help it, especially not women. This man is a loner and does his best to be invisible. We think he stalks his victims for a while before attacking them, so if you start seeing someone you've never seen before in strange places, please notify us. My name is Aaron Hotchner and you'll find the hotline on the screen you're watching this on."

You always had at least two friends with you whenever you were roaming about on campus. Though no one really spoke about the situation, the energy had changed. People were becoming tense and suspicious. Friends were fighting over who should accompany who, when and where. A place which had once gathered so many motivated and joyous students now had those very people looking over their shoulder.

You hated it.

Truly, you didn't want to underestimate this killer, but you were getting tired of it all. You'd wish the BAU would just catch him, but, as Spencer had explained to you multiple times, they had incredibly little to go on. What you knew without him telling you was that they needed another victim to predict his next move. Still, you were a person who appreciated alone time and you had gotten none in the last 10 days. So, when two of your friends who were supposed to walk with you from your class to the subway bailed on you, you weren't that upset.

You put your headphones on, listening to your favourite song of the moment and started walking. You had a tendency of getting lost in your thoughts and didn't notice the sound of heavy footsteps following your own over your music. What you did notice though, was the reflection of someone walking close behind you in a cafe window. You looked over your shoulder, frowning. The sun was in your eyes, blocking your vision, but you managed to perceive an average-sized man with long-ish black hair which hung around his face in greasy strands. Not thinking too much of it, you continued on your way.

You didn't think too much of it when you saw him sitting a few tables away from you when you were studying one afternoon at the library. You were captivated by the Middle English poem under your eyes, wondering what the author had meant with the particular use of the kenning "earth-cave". When you looked up and caught his eyes, cold and unnerving, you didn't overthink it. There were some weird people on campus. Who were you to judge?

When you saw him at your grocery store, though, that was when you started worrying. You were picking up a box of After-Eights for Spencer when you saw him looking at oatmeal raisin biscuits. What really tipped you off was that no one really liked those, so he must have been pretending to look occupied. A chill ran down your spine as all the other places you'd spotted him came back to you. Your lecture hall, the cafeteria, sitting in the lawn under a tree, the main hall,...

You decided that the next time you would see him, you'd tell Spencer. You didn't want him to worry if this turned out to be nothing. Maybe the man was just an exchange student? Or had joined during the academic year?

Two days later, the FBI made an arrest. A man named Ben Colton fitted the profile exactly. In his dorm room, they'd found pictures of women who looked exactly like the last victims and of resembling women on campus, you were part of them. You didn't know that, Spencer had felt you didn't need to be aware of that specific detail. The only problem was that the BAU had no physical evidence tying him to the crimes yet. The arrest had been sanctioned by higher authorities while physical proof was searched for. Police dogs and officers had been tearing through all of his possessions while Garcia had gone through his entire online life. Nothing tying him to the murders had been found.

The general public knew nothing of this, of course. To them, someone getting arrested meant they could go on with their usual lives. The man you'd been seeing left and right had left your mind entirely as you celebrated your regained freedom with your friends.

Of course, Spencer had warned you. They were 99% sure this was the unsub, they just needed the evidence. That didn't eliminate the 1% chance it wasn't him. But 99% chances were good enough for you. You trusted the BAU. Specifically, you trusted Spencer. With your life.

So you started living your life normally again. You left for class a little later because you didn't need to walk with your other friends. You stopped sharing your location with Spencer. You put the volume of your music higher again. You started leaving your pepper spray at home. You started texting while walking again.

Needless to say, you were wholly unprepared for the violent blow to your head as you walked to class one morning. How ironic, you thought as you blacked out, that Mary Goldman had probably experienced the same thing exactly two weeks prior.

Taglist : (all of you who asked for a part three <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos

[chrissssssmut]

Hi hello sir, I kindly ask a story with popular girls Asa and Ahyeon asking shy+nerdy mreader for help studying. No smut obviously and no need for yandere. Just fluffy stuff

Perks Of Being The Nerd

Asa & Ahyeon x Nerdy Male Reader

You didn’t expect much out of sophomore year.

Not fame. Not a girlfriend. Definitely not two.

Your goal was simple: survive AP Chem and keep your manga collection hidden from the occasional hallway tormentor. You were painfully good at blending in—until they happened.

Asa and Ahyeon.

The reigning queens of the junior class. Known for their looks, wit, and tendency to dominate literally every school event. Asa was sharp-eyed, tomboyish, and had a habit of chewing gum like it owed her money. Ahyeon was sweeter, mischievous, and occasionally so charming it felt like she was glitching the simulation.

And somehow, through some cosmic joke, they were now sitting at your kitchen table, flipping through your perfectly highlighted notes like they belonged there.

“Okay, so explain covalent bonds again,” Asa said, squinting at the textbook like it had personally wronged her.

“They’re the ones where atoms share electrons,” you muttered, pushing your glasses up and refusing to make eye contact. You could feel both of them looking at you.

“That’s so cute,” Ahyeon said suddenly.

You blinked. “...Covalent bonds?”

“No,” she giggled, “you. When you explain things like you’re afraid we’ll break.”

“I—I'm not afraid,” you said, then immediately regretted it. “I mean, not of you. Just, like. Talking. In general.”

Asa smirked and leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “You talk more when you’re passionate. Like, just now. You went full anime professor mode.”

Your heart skipped.

You were going to die. Right here. In your kitchen. Surrounded by girls way out of your league and a stack of flashcards.

It all started three days ago when Ms. Kim paired you up for peer tutoring. Apparently, Asa and Ahyeon were “slipping” in chemistry. You’d expected them to blow you off immediately.

But instead—

“Hey, you’re that smart kid, right? The one with the cute notes?” Asa had said, cornering you after class.

“You have the best handwriting I’ve ever seen,” Ahyeon added, eyes twinkling. “Can we study at your place?”

You said yes before your brain could stop you.

Which brings us back to the present.

“You make this stuff sound easy,” Asa said, tossing a pencil up and catching it. “I swear, if teachers explained things like you do, I wouldn’t be failing.”

“I-it’s not really hard,” you mumbled. “Just patterns and logic, mostly. Like code.”

Ahyeon tilted her head. “You code too?”

You nodded. “A bit. Mostly games. Visual novels, sometimes.”

“You’re like, the most interesting guy here and no one knows,” Asa said, stealing one of your erasers.

“Maybe because he’s hiding behind his bangs and hoodies,” Ahyeon teased, leaning toward you slightly. “We’re gonna fix that.”

“Fix what?”

“You,” they said in unison.

Somehow, “study sessions” became a regular thing.

They always brought snacks. Ahyeon liked lying on the floor with her feet up on your bed, whining about reaction rates. Asa always claimed the desk chair and spun in it until she got dizzy.

You tried to stay professional.

Tried.

But sometimes, Asa would lean over your shoulder and ask about a formula, her breath warm against your ear. Sometimes Ahyeon would rest her head on your arm while you explained things, and it was impossible to focus when your heart was beating like a drumline.

“You’re blushing again,” Asa said one afternoon, grinning like a shark.

You immediately buried your face in your hoodie.

“No fair,” you mumbled. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“But it’s cute,” Ahyeon chimed in. “And you never tell us what you think.”

“I—I do!”

“Okay,” Asa leaned in, eyebrow raised. “What do you think of us?”

You froze.

“I—I think you’re both…” You swallowed. “Very…good at learning?”

They stared at you.

“Wow,” Asa said, snorting. “That’s the nerdiest compliment I’ve ever received.”

“I love it,” Ahyeon said.

You peeked up at them.

And found two girls smiling at you like you’d just given them the moon.

“Hey,” Asa said quietly, after a silence. “You ever think about, like…dating?”

You choked on your juice box. “W-what?!”

“Not like that!” she added, laughing. “Okay, maybe like that. It’s just—we were talking, and you’re…kind of great?”

You blinked.

“You help us study, you’re smart, you make the best snacks, and your dog loves us.”

“And,” Ahyeon added, sliding closer to you on the couch, “you make me feel calm. Which almost never happens.”

Your face felt like it was on fire.

“Are you saying… you like me?”

“We like you,” they said in unison again.

“I—I don’t know how to—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Ahyeon whispered. “Just let us hang out with you more. Maybe hold your hand sometimes. That okay?”

Your voice came out small. “Yeah. That’s okay.”

So that’s how it happened.

One minute you were the quiet nerd with an anime wallpaper and a carefully curated pen case, and the next you were dating the two most popular girls in school.

Well. “Dating” might be a strong word. It started with long tutoring sessions that turned into movie nights. Hand-holding during breaks. A cheek kiss here, a forehead bump there. Soft “good luck” messages before tests and chaotic selfies from their classrooms.

Sometimes you caught people whispering when you walked down the hall with them on either side.

But then Asa would glance at you, bump your shoulder, and smirk.

Ahyeon would flash you a grin like you hung the stars.

And suddenly, you didn’t care what anyone thought.

Because somehow, impossibly—you were their favorite nerd.

End.

(But they definitely make you teach them anime intros next week.)

[nolita-fairytale]

and for us, it won't be long | joaquin torres x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: after joaquin's accident, you reconnect with your childhood friend

warnings: hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, eventual smut, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, swearing, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers

word count: 2.7k

a/n: so i think this is a small cute mini series of exactly 3 parts. i haven't written a fic in a while so this is wild but i'm happy to be here. the title of this fic is from baynk's song, grin.

read chapter two here

You watch him fall out of the sky on national television, the footage juxtaposed with an exterior shot of the Walter Reed Military Medical Center that’s got been stock footage, resulting in the world’s worst case of emotional whiplash. The news anchor’s voice is clear—reassuring, even—as he explains the situation: 

An accident involving the Falcon. 

In critical condition. 

The new Captain America at his side.

Hopeful. 

It’s the word he keeps repeating. 

The doctors are hopeful. 

But his words are lost on you, traveling in through one ear and out through another. In a state of shock, you’re only able to comprehend bits and pieces because watching the man you’ve known for most of your life soar through the air—not to mention, in flames—and plummet straight into the Indian Ocean, makes you feel like you’re going to pass out. 

It’s not like you expect for him to pick up—but you’re calling Joaquin’s phone, your heart practically beating out of your chest like he could—because there isn’t much else you feel like you can do. Besides, if, when he wakes up, you want him to know that you’ll be there.

You get his voicemail. 

Of course. 

But you can’t sit with this alone.

So you call your mom. And then his. And then three of you hold each other through the phone like he held your father all five years through The Blip. 

And when all is said and done, after days of agonizing nothingness, you get a text from his mother saying: 

He’s going to be okay. 

*

It’s the seventh time in the last ten minutes that Sam sees the screen of Joaquin’s phone flash upwards toward the hospital ceiling, signaling that he’s got yet another notification. 

“You should give ‘em a call,” Sam encourages.

Joaquin shoots a quizzical look to the man he’s looked up to his whole life, as Sam nods towards the cell phone once again, clarifying his previous statement with: “Your family, Torres. And whoever else’s been blowin’ your phone all day.” 

His face falls. 

The doctors had called to let his family know that he had made it through a successful surgery, and that he was going to be okay, but he hadn’t reached out just yet. Hell, he was almost grateful that his phone had been dead for days, crossing his fingers that the hospital wouldn’t find a spare charger. But then Sam came in this morning, brand new phone charger in hand, forcing Joaquin to return to reality: an overwhelm of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t-, I… I don’t want to worry them,” Joaquin hesitates, the disappointment in himself evident in how cautious he is. It’s why he’s been putting it off. He can’t seem to beat the nagging feeling that he should’ve done some differently—something so he didn’t have to make this kind of call. 

But he knows he’ll have to face the music sooner or later. 

“What-? What do I say? What am I supposed to tell them?” he asks earnestly, searching the face of his mentor for any kind of guidance. 

“Tell ‘em you’re gonna be okay,” Sam replies gently, the reassurance in his words allowing the obvious to land a little softer than it would had he chosen a different path. Joaquin nods slowly in response, reaching for the phone on his hospital bedside table. 

With a sigh and a heaviness he can’t yet name, Joaquin begins to scroll through the notifications. While he expects to see calls and texts from his parents, extended family members he hasn’t spoken to in years, he doesn’t expect to see 5 missed calls and 3 texts from you. 

Sam watches carefully as a look of surprise washes over his friend, colleague, and wingman’s face, and there’s something different about his reaction when his thumb hovers over your messages. 

“I’ll give you a few minutes, man,” Sam bows out, respectfully. 

*

When Joaquin finally texts you, it’s just a stupid GIF of a zombie rising from the grave. You’re less than amused by his humor at a time like this, but your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest as you see that the notification is from him. 2:08 pm 

You: Not funny, asshole! We’ve all been worried sick. 2:10 pm 

Joaquin: 😣You talked to my mom?!

2:15 pm 

You: 🖕Fuck off. You know Lydia likes me more than you. 

2:16 pm 

Joaquin: 💔

Savage. 

2:16 pm 

I’m jk. Mom told me how wonderful you’ve been with her and Dad. Thank you. 🙏

2:22 pm 

You: I’m just glad you’re okay. 

2:30 pm 

Joaquin: 😅

2:30 pm 

You: Can I call you later? 

2:31 pm 

Joaquin: Yeah :)

*

You’ve never been this girl: the girl that waits by the phone for some guy to text her.

But in the days following Joaquin’s accident, you have to remind yourself that the fact that you’re practically glued to your phone waiting for updates is just a result of the fact that you could’ve lost him. 

Besides, he’s not just some guy. It’s Joaquin: he’s the neighborhood kid you grew up with, the sweet seventeen year-old boy who took you to your senior prom, and the man that both of your mothers still swear to this day that you’ll marry. 

It’s Captain America—Sam, he insists that you call him—who eventually puts you out of your misery by inviting you to see Joaquin, when he notices his wingman’s recovery is going better and better all thanks to his mysterious pen pal. 

“I know kids these days can’t get off their phones, but something’s telling me there’s a cute girl on the other end, Buck,” Sam mentions over the phone one day, when the latter asks him about Joaquin’s recovery. “Hey, I’m not mad at it! Seems like it’s helping him.”

“Kid’s gotta girl?” Bucky asks from somewhere along the campaign trail, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he inquires further. “There’s only one way to find out,” Sam shrugs with a little mischief in his voice. 

It’s not hard to swipe Joaquin’s phone, considering his recovery still requires lots and lots of rest. The last thing you had expected that day was a call from Captain America himself—from Joaquin’s phone, no less—asking you to come to DC to reunite with your childhood friend. 

What’s even more shocking is the fact that it’s Sam Wilson himself, who’s there to meet you at the hospital. You try to keep your cool as you introduce yourself, but you can’t shake the giddy feeling of excitement that fills you upon meeting the Avenger you and Joaquin used to see on TV. He leads you down the long hospital hallways, warning you quietly that Joaquin was pretty badly injured, and he may have a little more wear and tear than you expected. 

You don’t mean to gasp, but your sharp intake of breath upon seeing him in his hospital bed isn’t exactly subtle. Your eyes trace over him worriedly, as you take in the burn scars on his neck and the still-healing cuts and scrapes on his face. It’s the moment you realize that, since making the choice to join The Avengers, your superhero friend is not so invincible. 

“What’re you-?” Joaquin balks, speechless at the sight of you. He looks from you to Sam, then back to you, before returning to Sam once more, his eyes landing on the man like he’s Benedict Arnold. “Sam, you didn’t-. How did you-? You called her?!” 

“Wasn’t hard to swipe your phone when you need a nap every 2 hours,” Sam replies casually, as if he isn’t acting like the world’s most embarrassing dad right now. “And I got tired of watching you wait by the phone all day for your girl to finally text you.”

“Oh my god!” Joaquin groans, at the very same time you let out a:

“Oh he’s not my-!” 

“Dude, we’re not-,” Joaquin gestures towards you in a panic, as he searches for the right words, saying a silent prayer that he can get out at least one full-finished sentence. “I’m not like, waiting by the phone but It’s not like I can go anywhere right now, man!” Sam chuckles only to be met with a very dramatic eye roll from Joaquin as he tries to defend himself. 

“Listen, we’re old friends. We’ve just been catching up,” he tries to explain again, gesturing towards you once more. 

Sam smirks, uttering an unconvinced, “Sure. Well, whoever she is or isn’t to you… seems like she’s been helping your recovery. Thought it couldn’t hurt.” 

You laugh, exchanging a look with Joaquin. 

“I still can’t believe you called her,” Joaquin shakes his head, still trying his best to process this. 

“Well, of course he called me, Torres, considering you’ve always been shit at asking for help,” you finally chime in, with a ball-busting attitude he’s missed. 

“Oh shit,” Sam says, looking from you back to Joaquin as he waits for a reaction. 

Joaquin grins, gearing up to explain: “When she feels threatened, she has a tendency to lash out.” 

Sam chuckles. 

“Feisty. I like it," he smirks with a nod of approval. And he knows that this that’s his cue. It’s time to give you kids some time alone. “Imma step out for a second. You guys… catch up. Or whatever.” 

You press your lips together, stifling another laugh, and waiting a beat as Sam disappears. 

“Dude,” you start, taking a few steps closer to Joaquin, with a look of disbelief.

“Dude,” Joaquin mimics you, unable to hide the smile on his face upon seeing you. 

“That’s like… Captain America,” you nod towards the hallway as you take a few more steps forward. 

“I know,” Joaquin says back, an excitement between the two of you. 

“Captain fucking America,” you emphasize.. 

You’ve really been doing the best to keep your cool, but you’re not sure you can contain it any longer. 

“I know!” he fanboys with you this time, because Joaquin still can’t believe this is real either. 

That he works with Sam Wilson. That he’s Captain America’s wingman. That you’re here, in DC, with him. 

It’s as if a piece of home has joined him for the first time in a long time in this new chapter of his life. 

The two of you exchange another smile and a wave of relief washes over you. 

You take a beat and one step closer to him, sitting down in the chair next to his hospital bed. You shake your head and this time, the expression on your face goes from soft to a much more hardened and worried look. 

“Joaquin,” you start, the tone of your voice a warning enough. 

“Oh God,” he sighs, recognizing that tone. 

“I could kill you,” you threaten, the next part reinforcing his more than accurate evaluation of you from earlier. “But clearly you don’t need my help.” 

“Well, I did technically die,” he parries, light heartedly. 

“Joaquin!” You interject, your voice going up in pitch as you cut him off. 

“What? You scared you’d miss me or something?” he teases, meeting your fire with his. 

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff, with a shake of your head. “It’s not-, don’t joke about that! It’s not funny!” 

“Didn’t you just threaten me with-?” he continues, knowing all the buttons to press. 

“Yeah, but it’s different when I-. Didn’t you just say that I have a tendency of lashing out when I feel threatened?” you snap, the worry in your voice enough to get him to stop. 

You sigh, your eyes scanning him once more, because maybe it would be easier if he really were invincible.

You take a beat, and the two of you share a full silence between you. It’s comfortable, yet filled with ‘what ifs’ neither of you want to acknowledge. 

“I can’t believe Sam stole my phone and called you,” Joaquin shakes his head this time, groaning again because Captain America really should be renamed to America’s Most Embarrassing Dad for this. “How did you get here so fast, anyway? My parents won’t even arrive till tomorrow.” 

“Oh I uh-. Well, you’ve been busy saving the world so I haven’t exactly been able to tell you,” you reply, realizing that it hadn’t even come up in conversation via text yet. “I moved to Philly a few months ago.” 

“Philly?” Joaquin asks, a little surprised, because he’s not sure he could picture you anywhere that has a properly cold Winter season. “Yeah,” you chuckle, immediately recognizing his look. “I had to buy my first Winter coat this year but… the trade off is that I’m only an hour train ride away from you now.”

His face lights up as soon as you spell it out for him. 

“Well, my parents are coming in tomorrow. Are you-, think you’ll be around?” he asks, hopefully. 

“Do you want me to be?” you ask in return. 

He nods, “Yeah. Think they’d like to see you.” “Okay,” you agree softly. “I’ll stay.” 

A beat. 

And another silence between the two of you, one that feels much heavier than the last. 

“You could’ve died, Joaquin,” you state quietly. 

“I know,” he replies, the guilt evident in his voice. 

You could’ve-,” you begin to repeat, your voice breaking this time. 

“I know,” he says again, much firmer as he reassures you. “But I didn’t. And we’re here now.” 

He reaches for your hand, and you’re almost angry with the way your body betrays you. With tears in your eyes you look back at him, shaking your head. 

“Goddamit,” you swear with a small laugh. “You’re the one who gets hurt yet you’re here comforting me.”

He shakes his head this time, squeezing your hand as he smiles, “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.” A beat. “But I’m still gonna kill Sam.”

You laugh, wiping a few tears out of your eyes with your free hand. 

“And yeah. I would,” you finally admit, your voice soft. 

“Hm?” Joaquin asks, his lashes heavy as he blinks, taking you in. 

“I would really, really miss you,” you answer, a vulnerability in your voice this time that you’re quick to put an end to. “So don’t fucking do this shit again!” 

Joaquin laughs as he squeezes your hand once more, knowing it’s not a promise he can make to either of you. 

*

9:45 am 

Joaquin: Mom and Dad left yesterday and Mom told me to tell you that she misses you already. 

10:01 am 

You: You can just admit that you miss me already. 

10:03 am 

Joaquin: 🤐

Thanks though. I think they’re a little less worried now that they know you’re close by. 

10:08 am 

You: How’s it going? 

10:13 am 

Joaquin: Good! I got discharged a few days ago and am heading to Wakanda in a few weeks. 

New suit! 🦸

The last time you see me can’t be in a hospital gown. 

10:15 am 

You: I don’t know why you’d say that! It’s a great look for you. 

10:20 am 

Joaquin: 🙄

Guess I should’ve swiped one from the hospital to wear all the time.

What’re you doing next weekend? 

10:21 am 

You: Nothing. What’s up? 

10:30 am 

Joaquin: What do you think about me coming to Philly? 

10:31 am

You: To visit me? Or just because?

10:32 am Joaquin: Yes to visit you 😆

Thought we could hang out before I go.

10:33 am 

You: Yeah! I know it’s only an hour train ride in and out, but I’ve got a super comfy couch you can crash on if you want. 

So that’s an option. 

The next text you receive is a selfie of him, wearing a plain grey crewneck sweater. 

You laugh. The guy loves a good selfie. 

10:40 am

Joaquin: 1 photo attached

Rocky ain’t ready for this 

10:43 am 

You: LOL 

Please don’t tell me you’re coming to Philly so you can recreate the Rocky training montage.

And if you’re wondering, I will not be partaking. You’re on your own with that one. 

But yeah, I’d be happy to host you! 

10:48 am 

Joaquin: Deal. 

I’ll call you later. We can work out the details :) 

11:00 am 

You: Deal :)

[remushrts]

baked goods

— pairing: poly!marauders x reader

— a/n: i did get carried away with this one but it was so fun to write!! i do not mean to set a precedent on poly!marauders and culinary tales, i just love the chaotic dynamic of them in the kitchen i fear

— summary: based on the prompt: ♡ the character realizes how head over heels in love they are when their s/o took over their whole kitchen in a panic bake.

Sirius swears he's trying to be nice. Keyword, trying.

But can he really blame himself when he came home late from another horrible, horrible meeting, more than exhausted, to find your whole house smelling like muffins? And not only a batch or two, he swore the house was to be stacked with piles upon piles of baked goods at this point.

Was he really, really to blame, that he swoon the moment he saw you cursing under your breath as you spilled vanilla essence all over the counter?

"Hi, sweetie." Sirius grins deliberately, placing a kiss on your cheek. He swears you even taste sweet. "What's with the psycho cooking spree at midnight? Not that I'm one to complain." He added, running his finger along the edge of your bowl and taking it to his lips to taste the batter.

You sigh before answering, and Sirius thinks you're even more adorable, if that's even possible. "Your cousin called, Nymphadora has one of those school events tomorrow. We're helping her up a bit."

"Well, are you trying to feed the entire school?" He gestures to the three batches cooling on the counter, plus the one in the oven. "And who's we, darling? Have you started to hallucinate? Should we run with you to the ER?"

You let out a dry laugh in response, shoving his arm playfully. Sirius doesn't budge, if anything, he locks his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "I am not trying to feed the entire school, some of these are ours. Orange cinnamon for Jamie, double chocolate for Remus, peanut butter for you, and raspberry for Andy and Ted, but..." You don't have time to finish your sentence as the timer of your oven goes off, and Sirius smacks a kiss against your cheek before you can move.

"Let me get those." He offers, placing another kiss on the corner of your lips before he lets you go and picks up a pair of oven gloves disposed on the counter. He picks them up carefully, more than you would have given him credit for. "And where are those animals, huh? Letting my sweetheart do the entire job alone."

You roll your eyes, picking one of the muffin tins — though to Sirius, god knows how you can keep track of which one of them is still burning hot, and which is just warm to touch without burning your fingers off — and taking the perfectly shaped muffins out of it. He watches as you line up new paper cups and pour the new batter he hadn't even seen before, although he can assume they are the orange ones from the heavenly smell.

"You didn't let me finish, you sod." You say, but your tone packs none of the bite, his grin grows wider across his face.

"Sorry, sweetie, please finish." He offers you, trying to pick one of the freshly baked muffins. You swatch his hand away.

"Don't eat those, you'll burn your tongue. And, to your knowledge, Remus went to buy more paper cups and blueberries because certain someones keep trying to catch them in the air everytime we have them." You explain.

"Oi! That's unfair, we did went to get them, you know?" You hear James' voice echo around the house just a second later the front door clicks open. You kind of pity your neighbours for the noise he's making, but a little less as he greets you with a kiss on the lips. "Hi, my love. Has this gentleman been troubling you?"

You see Sirius feigns offense at the corner of your eyes, pressing your lips to suppress a smile. "Yeah, yeah, your sins are atoned for, Jamie. But his are not." You point out to your other boyfriend.

"Oh, I think I've atoned for my sins just fine!" Sirius tries to defend himself, an exasperated glance at you and James. "Moony, I'm being set up here!"

His gaze only seems to soften as Remus enters the room, you turn to see another two dozens of star-lined paper cups on his hands. You know James had made him park at the store by the look on his face, despite the small errand not meaning to take more than ten minutes, tops. The frown that creases your boyfriend's eyebrows don't make him any less handsome.

"What has he done now?" Remus inquiries with a raised brown.

"Nothing!"

"Eaten all the blueberries." You and James answer at the same time. "Sorry, eaten half the blueberries. The other half was dropped to the floor." You correct.

"Sacrificed!" Sirius corrects once again. "And I could eat them off the floor if Moony wasn't such a goody two-shoes."

"Court finds you guilty, sorry. And you're not eating off the floor, Pads." Remus interrupts before any of you can. James seems rather amused at the situation, watching you bicker and discreetly eating off the bag of frozen mixed berries when none of you are looking. You catch him by the corner of your eye, resting your back at the counter at slowly reaching for one too.

Sirius is, to say the least, scandalised. "So they get to eat them?"

Remus only shrugs, you pick a couple berries in a hand and offers him too. James gives him a complicit look, but he doesn't look half as guilty, lips tinted by the blackberries as are the tips of his fingers. He leans to kiss Sirius.

"Désolé, amor." He says, pressing the words sweetly against his lips. Sirius maybe, just maybe, swoons again at the way his accent carries the vowels with such flowy grace. It's unfair of James, and the smile that comes after tells him that he knows it.

"Désolé my fucking ass! Bloody traitor!" He pretends to push James away towards you, but he spins on his heels like a fucking pro, locking you between his body and the counter with a smug grin. You have none of it, clapping your hands loudly and making a cloud of flour dust the room, and your boyfriend's poor lovely face.

"Alright, everybody out of my kitchen unless you're helping!" You say loudly, all the pompous of a professional chef in one of those reality shows you always watch with the boys.

"Yes, chef!" James answers, smile turning enthusiastic as his lips curl up.

"Yes, chef..." Remus follows, already putting himself at work and opening the paper cups on the counter. You look at Sirius, maybe too cocky to expect an answer, but you let yourself have the small power trip.

Sirius smiles widely, the genuine amusement that makes one lovely dimple appear at his cheeks. "Oui, chef."

It's good enough for you. You swoon for him too.

[bbrissonn]

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in which luke has some plans for the two of you during the 4 nations tournament break

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 3.1k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: reader is a nail tech !!! slight swearing,nsfw content read at your own risk, not proofread

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ started listening to old money by lana del rey about half way through writing this, im sure you'll be able to figure out what part...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ reader's instagram is public !!!

"so, you talked to mom for next week?" jack asked luke from besides him on the plane. the team was currently on their way back from pittsburgh after a short two game roadtrip. the 4 nations tournament was less than a week away, meaning luke had 2 weeks where he could finally get his mind off of hockey for a while.

more importantly, he got two spend 2 whole weeks with you and only you. he had been looking forward to february since the announcement of the tournament, having a feeling he wouldn't get picked for team usa because it was only his second year in the league. meaning he had had almost a whole year to plan these two weeks he'd get with you.

luke had almost forced to take your two weeks of vacation off during those specific weeks, and you were quick to alert your boss about it. the two of you had been together for a year and a half now, having met during luke's short stay in new jersey at the end of the 2022-2023 season. you had decided not to go to university, opting to attending cosmetology school. you eventually focused nails, your parents letting set up a small salon in their garage. you had met luke when you were shopping for supplies, the boy looking lost as he looked around himself and down at his phone constantly.

as a native new yorker, it pained you to see someone looking as clueless as he did. most people covered it up well, walking with confidence but having no clue where they were going. him on the other hand, he looked like a lost puppy. you decided to approach him, hoping you could help him.

𓇢𓆸

"lost?" you asked as you approached the stranger, a couple of bags in your hands. the stranger turned his head slightly, looking down at his phone quickly, before his head snapped up towards you. his eyes stared into your for a moment, his jaw dropping slightly before snapping back to reality.

"y-yeah, a bit." he mumbled, suddenly finding himself pushing his shoulders back, fixing his posture slightly. you tried your best to hold in a giggle as he then ran his hand through his hair a couple of times.

"where you going?" you asked, stepping a little closer trying to take a peak at his phone. luke leaned his hand towards you, letting you get a better view, but all he could focus on was you.

"meeting some friends... and my brother."

"visiting?"

"uh... just moved. i actually live in new jersey, we all do, but they insisted we come here so..." he explained, his soft gentle as his eyes stayed glued on you. you looked up at him as you figured out mentally where to send the boy. you hadn't noticed just how much taller than you he was.

"work?"

"something like that, yeah."

"head up that way, about three streets down turn left, you'll see it right away. its got a bright neon sign, hard to miss." you instructed him with a smile.

"you'd think phones would be better at directions by now." he joked awkwardly, making you smile slightly. you finally took a good look at his face. he was cute, a lot cuter than any boys you had seen in a while. "i'm luke, by the way."

"y/n." you smiled at him.

𓇢𓆸

luke had kindly asked for your number before making his way to meet his friends. the two of soon started talking almost everyday, luke had been glued to his phone all summer, making everyone around him a little curious by his sudden change. his brothers eventually figured that he had been talking to you the whole time, but failed to convince him to let them meet you.

when luke had gotten back in new jersey in september, he was quick to asked you to be his girlfriend. you didn't have to think twice as the word "yes" slipped from your mouth before your brain even registered what he had said. you were now nearing your year and a half mark, and luke couldn't be anymore in love with you than he already was.

"oh, uhm. i made plans with y/n/n." luke answered his brother, making jack looking over him.

"she can come too, you know. ma would love for her to be there too."

"the uh, plans, their not plans in new jersey."

"make a detour to montreal?"

"i mean, we'll be there for the games in boston, but we're uh, going away before." jack was now very confused as to what luke was saying. never had his brother, or you, mentioned the two of you taking a trip. for all he knew, you had been talking about how excited you were to explore montreal.

"what do you mean?"

"just, i planned a little something special for her, that's all. non-refundable and all."

"where you guys going?"

"i'm not telling you." luke scoffed, making jack look at him with a fake hurt expression.

"why not?"

"'cause your shit a keeping a secret. and she doesn't know yet, so i'm not telling you." luke explained, making jack scoff slightly before putting in his headphones. luke shook his head at his older brother's childish behaviour before texting you. the two of you had agreed to meet up for lunch between two of your clients, and he wanted to make sure there was no delay within your schedule.

𓇢𓆸

"so, baby, i know you're excited and all about montreal-"

"oh, luke, it's gonna be amazing! we're gonna shop, we're gonna explore. go to that cool thing cole keeps talking about." you said with a smile before taking another bit of your plate. you had met cole the previous summer, when you had flew to michigan to visit luke and his family for a couple of weeks. thankfully you had met his brothers and parents, so the only knew people were their friends.

"about that... we're not going to montreal, babe." luke watched as your smile dropped, and he cursed himself for his words.

"what do you mean? what about jack, and quinn, and all your family?"

"we'll go see them, in boston. i was, uh, hoping you'd wanna take a trip with me. get away from everyone, just you and me. and i'm really hoping you say because it's not refundable, so..." he muttered, scratching the back of his neck slightly.

"o-okay, yeah, that's... that's fine. where are we going?" you were glad you had decided not to schedule any clients during luke's two week break, seeing as he had been talking about this moment since the beginning of the season.

"a lot of places, places you're gonna like. took of everything, housing, transport, it's gonna be amazing, love." the boy said with a grin on his face.

"where?"

"europe."

𓇢𓆸

"oh, my gosh, this place is amazing!" you gasped as you walked the streets of london. your plane had arrived early in the morning, and the two of you waisted no time explore the city. your hand was holding on tightly to luke's, his smile matching yours.

"i'm glad your enjoying this, love." the boy spoke as your eyes looked over at him. you bit your bottom lip as luke softly smiled down at you.

"you're amazing, you know that?" you asked the boy as he threw his arm over your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. he chuckled slightly as he pressed a kiss to your temple before answering your question.

"i try." he whispered sweetly before the two of you entered a shop. you spent the rest of day walking around london, getting snacks from almost every food place luke's eyes landed on, eventually sitting down for dinner, and finally making your way to your hotel room.

"we got an early morning tomorrow, babe, get some sleep." the boy mumbled as your mouth trailed down his neck. luke was laying on his back, with you snuggled to his side.

"what are we doing?"

"we're getting on a train." his answer made you look up at him, your mouth leaving his skin as you gave him a weird look.

"a... train?"

"yes, y/n/n, a train." he giggled.

"where to?"

"france." he shrugged with a proud grin as a gasp left your mouth.

"we're going to paris?" you exclaimed, fully pushing yourself so you were straddling luke's lap.

"we are."

"oh my god, luke!" you said before throwing your arms around him. you had been dying to visit paris since you were a little kid, and the want grew even stronger over the summer as you watched the olympics.

16 hours later, you found yourself sitting in a restaurant near the eiffel tower. the night had set, the tower lighted up, people roaming the busy streets of the city, people were talking, laughing, yelling, so much was going. but all you could focus and think about was the boy in front of you.

"you're starring."

"i am." you answered with a smile. luke flashed you his lopsided grin before taking another bit of his food.

"your food's gonna get cold."

"i don't care." you answered, making luke sigh slightly before placing his fork down.

"alright, what is it?"

"nothing... nothing i just, i love you, you know. a lot. this trip... it means a lot." you stuttered, suddenly feeling like a school girl again. luke's hand reached for yours across the table, rubbing you skin softly with his thumb.

"i know, and i love you." he answered, making you blush as you looked down at your lap. you nodded slightly before finally starting to eat your dinner. the two of you ended your night by the eiffel tower, your camera roll getting filled with pictures of the tower itself, you in front of it, luke in front of it, selfies taken together, and pictures a kind stranger took for the two of you. you then made your way back to a hotel near by, the two being seen from your window.

"baby... baby, slow down." luke mumbled as your hands attacked his button up the second the door closed behind the two of you. your lips quickly connected with his neck, making him throw his head back with a groan. luke's hand found their way to your waist, before pushing you up against the wall. you pulled away slightly, looking up at him with a grin as you arched your back, pressing yourself into him.

"no." you answered sweetly before connecting your lips together. luke felt like he was floating up in the clouds at this moment, your hands pushing his button up off of his body before you hands started touching every single part of his upper body.

"you drive me crazy, you know." the boy stated as your hands squeezed his biceps, which were flexed from his grasp on your waist. they quickly moved to find the hem of your shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion, leaving you topless in your lace bra. another groan left his mouth as his lips attached themselves to your neck.

"i know." you said, smirking as your hands now found luke's belt. another groan. just as you were about to undo his belt, you felt luke's strong arms pick you up, and suddenly you were over his shoulder. your giggle echoed through the room as luke dropped you softly on the bed, before crawling over to you.

"i'm so in love with you." he mumbled as he approached you slowly. you were resting on your forearms barely holding yourself up as luke's large figure towered over you. his hands were resting right next to your arms, his forehead inches away from you.

"i'm crazy in love with you, lukey." you mumbled before the boy quickly reached down and connected your lips together, the two of you smiling into the kiss as luke softly pushed you down on the bed.

"luke..." you whispered as his lips slowly trailed down your neck to your chest, his hands locking with yours next to your head.

"yeah, baby?"

"please." you begged as luke pulled your bra down, his lips quickly attacking your boobs as you bit your lips. it had been so long, too long, since the two of you had been completely alone without jack being in the room next to you. it had been so long since the two of you had been able to take your time and truly enjoy yourselves.

"i got you, m'love. don't worry, just wanna take my time with you, show you how much i love you." he whispered as his lips moved further down your body. as he approached your waist, his hands found your skirt, pulling it down along with your panties. you were now fully bare underneath him.

luke pushed himself back on his knees. his eyes admiring your body as he rid himself of his belt and pants, leaving him in only his underwear. "you're so perfect, y/n/n." he whispered as he kneeled back down, his lips kissing your inner thighs softly as he came closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

the rest of the night was filled with soft i love yous, passionate kisses, intense eye contact, your bodies tangled as one, the night was filled of love. luke had fallen asleep first, his arms holding you close to his chest as his chin rested on your head. your face was stuffed into his neck, his cologne being the only thing you could focus on.

it had taken you almost an hour to fall asleep, not because you weren't tired, but because your brain couldn't stop thinking. thinking about how lucky you were, how happy you were, and how grateful you were to have luke in your life. he was the man of your dream.

you still couldn't wrap your head around the fact that you were currently laying in a hotel bed in the middle of the city you had been wanting to visit since you were a kid. that you were laying next you the man who made your dream come true, laying the man who had completely stolen your heart.

and you honestly could not believe this was your life. never in a million years did you think that approaching who stranger who looked completely lost in the middle of new york lead to you laying in his arms in the city of love. it felt like a dream, one that you never wanted to wake up from. luke was everything you ever wanted in a man. he was caring, always want out of his way to make you happy, even if it meant just stopping by your salon to give you coffee in the morning, or just to see you for a short 10 minute before your client came. he was perfect. you never had to worry about if he was out cheating, simply because he could never stop texting you and sending you pictures of his teammates blackout drunk when he was out. you were all he could think about, and he was all you could think about.

it was almost like you were scared you'd fall asleep, and wake up all alone in your bed back in new york, and there was no way you wanted that. but the loud snore coming from luke quickly brought you back to reality. this was real, this was your life now, and you couldn't be happier about it.

𓇢𓆸

it was now wednesday, you had taken a flight to barcelona, where you arrived in the early afternoon. you spent your day exploring the city, it wasn't the hottest, but compared to the weather you were having back home, this was way better. the two of you had decided to stop by a couple of local shops, finding the objects perfect to bring back as souvenirs. after your dinner, the two of you had taken a walk on the beach, after you begged luke for the whole dinner to go. he was going to say yes, of course he was, but the way you would always pass pity comments about it always made him laugh. so, he pretended to be hesitant the whole time, but he knew even before you landed in the city this how your night would end.

then early on thursday morning, the two of you flew to rome. you repeated the same process as always, spend the day exploring the city. only this time the two of you got onto another flight that evening, landing in split in croatia. you knew this city. you had been seeing tons of videos on tiktok about it lately. sadly, it wasn't exactly peak beach season, but luke had promised you that you'd eventually come back the summer.

the two had gone to bed right when you arrived to the hotel, the clock nearing morning hours. and when you woke up the next morning, you were all alone in bed. your eyes wondered around the room, only to land on luke standing at the small round table in your room. you let out a groan as you stretched your arms, making your boyfriend look over at you.

"good morning, baby." the boy mumbled as he walked over to you with a smile. he was wearing a robe, and his hair was slightly damped, and you could only guess he had taken a shower recently. he sat down on the bed next to you, his hand reaching for you.

"hi." you smiled, your eyes struggling to stay open. this was probably one of the comfiest bed you had ever slept on, and you did not want to get up right now.

"how'd you sleep?"

"amazing!" you exclaimed, trying to shove yourself deeper into the mattress. luke smiled at you before leaning down and pecking your lips.

"breakfast." he whispered, his head nodding over to the table. his words quickly made you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. just as you were about to pull aways, luke's hands, which were laying on your back, made their way to your thighs and picked you up, standing up from the bed. you squealed as he walked over to the table before placing you down, but keeping his arms around you.

"happy valentine's day, my love." he whispered before kissing your lips. you had completely forgotten that was today. all you had been thinking about was this trip, and the days started just blending one into the other. you smiled as you pulled the boy down, kissing him harder.

"you're amazing!" you exclaimed, bringing the boy into a thigh hug as your lips parted, luke chuckled as he let his head rest on yours.

"when i saw that we had a break this week, knew i had to make it the best valentine's day ever."

"you're amazing!" you repeated, and luke took it as an answer that you loved it. "this is amazing, luke!"

"i'm glad you like it-

"i love it! almost as much as i love you."

"sap."

"shut up." you whispered before connecting your lips again. "i don't ever wanna stop loving you."

"good, 'cause i plan on loving you forever."

𓇢𓆸

- feb 11, 2025 -

youruser

📍 london, uk

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes and other

youruser yesterday💗💗

👥 lhughes_06

view all 273 comments

lhughes_06 🩵

lhughes_06 obsessed with you

user485 he brought her to london omg 🥹🥹

jackhughes so this is where you two snuck off to

friendsuser so so cute

user5459 may a love like this find me

user234 the booth photos omg

_quinnhughes where was my invite?

youruser @/_quinnhughes lukey said no :( lhughes_06 @/youruser woah now don't make me the bad guy

load more...

- feb 12, 2025 -

youruser

📍 paris, france

liked by _quinnhughes, friendsuser and others

youruser dream come true 🩵

👥 lhughes_06

view all 403 comments

lhughes_06 anything for you 🩵

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 oh ew 🤣

user869 WERE THEY NOT IN LONDON YESTERDAY??

user927 @/user869 man said "i got a week and im making the most of it"

_quinnhughes still no invite?

youruser @/_quinnhughes lukey is still saying no :( lhughes_06 @/youruser do you really want him here after last night 🤣 jackhughes @/lhughes_06 OKAY THAT'S JUST GROSS

load more...

- feb 14, 2025 -

youruser

🎵 call it what you want - taylor swift

liked by lhughes_06, _quinnhughes and others

youruser so in love with you 🩵

view all 649 comments

lhughes_06 my girl 🩵

lhughes_06 i love youuuu

jackhughes GROSS GROSS GROSS

friendsuser im so obsessed with you guys

user0194 oh.my.gaush. 😭

user847 she won the lottery frfr

_quinnhughes i would've lovedddd to go to europe to

youruser @/_quinnhughes no.

_quinnhughes so much kissing 🙄

user6749 when is it my turn...

load more...

[moralesispunk]

I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one

simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.

it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.

that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.

and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.

but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.

simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.

you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.

"think you can start making a move on that?"

a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.

they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.

"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.

that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.

they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.

"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that

[storiesforallfandoms]

moved on ~ thomas shelby;peaky blinders

word count: 2213

request?: no

description: in which his ex comes back after two years, and his fiancée is worried about what this means for their engagement

pairing: thomas shelby x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Tommy didn't expect to fall in love after Grace had ran off. He had loved her more than he loved anyone, and he thought he'd never find that love again.

Until he met (Y/N).

They met at an event Tommy had to attend. He only went to make an appearance, and was looking for a way to leave when he spotted her. Right away, he was taken by her. He spent the rest of the night talking to her, and even drove her home at the end of the night.

Within two months, Tommy had proposed. He couldn't risk losing this one. She made him feel even better than he had with Grace. (Y/N) was the one, he was sure of it. So, he asked her to marry him, and he was beyond ecstatic when she said yes.

Everything was perfect, until the day Tommy took (Y/N) to the races.

It was a scorching hot day in Birmingham. Tommy and his brothers were set to go to the races, and obviously he had asked (Y/N) to come with them. She was wearing a summer dress that Tommy had bought for her and, as he had predicted, she looked breathtaking in it. He couldn't keep his eyes - or his hands - off of her.

"You're going to cause a scandal," (Y/N) teased as Tommy's hand made its way under her dress again.

"No one's looking, love," Tommy assured her, moving her hair from her shoulder so he could start kissing her neck.

(Y/N) fought the pleasure his actions were giving her to push him away. As good as Tommy made her feel, she was no going to let him have his way with her in public.

"Can you get me something to drink?" she asked. "I'm parched, and quite hot."

"Of course, darling."

Tommy gave her a quick peck before going to find a concessions stand.

He was waiting for their drinks when a familiar voice said, "Tommy?"

He thought he imagined it, but he realized that couldn't be it. He hadn't even thought of her in years. There's no way he would suddenly be imagining her again. So, he allowed himself to turn, and there she was.

Grace.

Just as beautiful as the day she left him.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said.

"I didn't expect to see you anywhere," Tommy responded. "I thought you fell off the face of the Earth. Since I never heard from you and all."

A flash of guilt showed on Grace's face. It made Tommy happy to know she felt guilty for what she did.

"I can't apologize enough - "

"No, you can't," Tommy said. He was finally given his drinks. He took them and began to walk away from her.

"Wait!" She took hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Please, let me explain. I'll tell you everything."

Tommy looked down at her hand. It was hard to miss the diamond ring on her ring finger.

"Will your husband be okay with that?"

She seemed to bristle a little at the comment, but she managed to keep her composure. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind me catching up with an old friend."

Tommy held his tongue from correcting her. He wanted to know the truth about what happened with Grace. Even if that's all their meeting was - which it would be - then it could at least be some closure for him. He agreed to Grace's proposal, but only under the condition that she meet him at the Garrison. He needed to have some sort of control in this situation.

It was only as Tommy was walking back to his seat that he realized he hadn't told Grace he was engaged. In fact, he had completely forgotten about (Y/N) for those few moments.

She was still in her seat wen he got back, eagerly watching the current race. The moment he laid his eyes on her, Tommy felt his heart swell. He realized that he felt nothing but contempt for Grace. He wasn't eager for their meeting at the Garrison as he would've been nearly two years ago. It was nothing more than a business meeting to him now, because his heart belonged to one woman.

(Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "You've been gone for some time. Did you get lost?"

He smiled back. Instead of responding, he sat with her and kissed her cheek. (Y/N) giggled and leaned into him.

Tommy thought about telling (Y/N) about Grace, but he wasn't sure how to. He didn't want her to get upset over Grace's appearance, and their agreement of a private meeting, but he knew there was no way to bring it up without (Y/N) getting upset. He couldn't blame her either. If the roles were reversed and one of (Y/N)'s exes were trying to reconnect with her...well, that person wouldn't be around much longer.

(Y/N) looked up at Tommy and nudged him. "Are you alright? You look deep in thought."

"I saw Grace," he blurted.

"Grace? Like...the Grace?" Tommy nodded. "When? Just then?" He nodded again. "Oh, wow. What did she say?"

"She asked if we could meet up to talk about her leaving."

"What did you say?"

"I told her we could meet at the Garrison."

(Y/N) nodded, her face unreadable. "When?"

"Tomorrow night."

"And...did you tell her about me?"

Tommy was silent. He couldn't lie to her, and his silence was enough of an answer. She turned away from him to focus on the race again. She felt so many emotions that she couldn't even place them. She knew Tommy loved her, and she knew he was loyal, but she was also aware of Tommy and Grace's past. He told her everything about their relationship when they first got together. So she knew how intense Tommy and Grace's relationship had been, and how broken he was when she left.

Tommy reached over and put his hand on her leg. "Love, look at me."

(Y/N) reluctantly turned to face her fiance.

"I will call the meeting off if it makes you uncomfortable," he said. "Or you can come and be there when it happens."

She shook her head. "No, I think that will likely make it more awkward."

Tommy cupped her face. "Do you trust me?"

"My mind is screaming that I shouldn't, but my heart says I do." She chuckled and added, "That sounded so cheesy."

"It did," Tommy agreed. He pulled her towards him to place a kiss on her lips. "I promise this is nothing more than a meeting to get some closure. Any love I felt for Grace disappeared when she did. You are the only woman who has my heart, and that will never change."

(Y/N) smiled and leaned into Tommy. "I believe you. Just...tell her about me the moment she shows up, okay?"

"I will, love."

~~~~~~

The next night, (Y/N) was pacing her and Tommy's shared living room. Tommy had left for his meeting with Grace moments ago. He had kissed her and told her he wouldn't be long, and she had smiled at him but didn't speak. Once he was gone, she had stood and immediately began to walk around the house. Her nerves were making it impossible to be still.

She told Tommy she had trusted him, and that wasn't a lie, but she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of unease and jealousy. It was a cliche to say, but it was Grace she didn't trust. She didn't know Grace besides what Tommy had told her about their previous relationship, and the fact that Grace was now married. But would that be enough to stop Grace from wanting to make a move on Tommy? Would Tommy's engagement be enough?

Her mind would not rest. She was starting to regret telling Tommy she wasn't going to accompany him to the meeting. Even if it would've been awkward, at least her mind would've been at ease.

Before she could register what she was doing, (Y/N) was pulling on a coat and heading out the door. She started walking towards the Garrison. She knew it was a bad idea to just drop in on Tommy and Grace's meeting, but the not knowing was killing her. She couldn't just stay home and wait for Tommy to come back.

It was a slow night at the pub. There were a few men sat along the bar, and three men sat around one table. Harry was wiping down some glassware at the bar when (Y/N) walked in. He regarded her and nodded towards the private room that the Shelby's frequented, signaling that Tommy was still in there. (Y/N) walked towards the room, intending to knock before entering, until she heard a woman's voice on the other side.

"I never meant to hurt you, Tommy. I know I betrayed you, and nothing can ever change that. But you have to know that I did love you - that I do love you. I left Birmingham because I knew it would be better for you if I did, but I never stopped thinking about you."

"What about your husband?" came Tommy's voice.

"I love him, but I'm not in love with him. He has been a marriage of convenience more than anything. He was there, and he had a good job and a good life, and I hadn't hurt him."

There was silence. (Y/N) could only imagine what was happening on the other side of the door. She hadn't missed Grace admitting to still being in love with Tommy, and even if it seemed Tommy had. Or maybe was just ignoring the fact that she said it.

Or maybe he was happy to hear it?

"I've missed you so much, Tommy," came Grace's voice, soft. "I've thought about you every day since I left. I've been hoping for a day where I could see you again, just one more time, and as for you to give me another chance."

(Y/N) could feel her heart breaking. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she backed away from the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry looking at her. She wouldn't look directly at him, but she could make out the look of pity on his face. He must've known what was happening in that room, or had some idea anyways.

She was about to leave when she heard Tommy say, "Any chances you had left when you did, Grace."

(Y/N)'s ears perked back up as she moved back towards the door.

"I loved you once, Grace. If you had come back, even after admitting to me your betrayal, I might've taken you back. But I've moved on now. I have found a woman that I love more than anything in this world, and who loves me just as much. There is nothing and no one in this world who could convince me to leave (Y/N), not even you."

There was a silence on the other side. It wasn't until the knob started to turn on the door that (Y/N) realized Grace was leaving. She quickly stumbled away from the door just before it swung open and hit her. She was stood frozen as she looked at Grace - beautiful, blonde, elegant Grace, stood in a crimson red dress and her hair curled. Grace seemed just as shocked to see someone standing on the other side, but swiftly moved around (Y/N) to exit the pub as quickly as possible.

Tommy was sat at the table with a lit cigarette to his mouth. He didn't look surprised to see (Y/N). He took a long drag and blew it out of the corner of his mouth, before motioning with his fingers for (Y/N) to join him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to - "

"How much of it did you hear?" he asked.

"Well, I arrived sometime before her love confession."

"Which one?"

(Y/N) felt an angry heat rise in her face. "There were multiple?"

"There was two. Three, if you count her asking for another chance at the end there."

"Well, in that case I arrived before the second one."

Tommy reached out for his fiancée, gently touching her arm and pulling her to sit next to him.

"So you heard what I said to her, then?" he asked. (Y/N) nodded. "And you know I meant every word."

"Of course I do," she said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just shown up like this. I just couldn't settle down at home while I waited for you. I needed to be here."

"I did offer for you to sit in on the meeting." His tone was light and there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. That's how (Y/N) knew he wasn't being serious, or that he wasn't upset about her appearance.

"I know. I should've taken you up on that," she said. She leaned close to Tommy and kissed his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, darling. Don't ever think that I don't."

"I won't. I promise."

[luveline]

hellooo I have a request for Spencer x bombshell! reader (I'm not sure if you've done this before and if you have I apologise!!) but like they're on a case and one of them gets pretty badly hurt somehow & then the other is really worried about them & stuff and then I'm not sure (I think this could be good but not the way that I have spoken about it and so I'm very very sorry!!)

u r so awesome don’t worry!!

cw canon typical violence and injury

Everything is crisp and quiet at the precipice of the stakeout. You adjust your gun where it’s poised over the roof of an SUV away from a moving officer’s body. The negotiator adjusts the megaphone at their thigh nervously, waiting for Hotch’s go ahead. You’re all waiting for it. A hand raised, sending you in, hostage recovered, a long case coming to a short close. 

“Don’t forget your leg,” Spencer says to you under his breath. 

“Trust me, babe, I can’t forget it,” you say back, glancing quickly at him to your left. He’s facing forward, trained on the window where you’d last seen the unsub. The distance between you both and the danger is small, less than three feet of space. You and Spencer don’t have a clear shot, the agent’s behind you better equipped and better trained, but you can make do in a pinch. 

“Hurting?” he whispers. 

“Half as bad as it was yesterday.” 

“I have a bad feeling.” 

“Yeah?” You follow Hotch’s hand. The negotiation begins. You and Spencer don’t talk again. 

The unsub is sour, the victim terrified. When the screaming inside begins in earnest, the FBI rolls inside, confident in taking down the unsub, if a little worried about the victims wellbeing. You and Spencer sweep in less than ten inches away from each other, unafraid, and you don’t see the sledgehammer until it’s hitting you in the jaw, spraying blood like dark ink over Spencer’s pale cheek. 

—

“I don’t care if that’s what you recommend.” A drag of a soft touch somewhere on your skin. “Sincerely. I want a second opinion.” 

“It’s a mandibular fracture, we have a suitable follow up procedure.” 

“I understand, but I’m doing what she’d want me to do. When she wakes up, she’ll say the same thing, and so there’s no point in starting the paperwork for a procedure she won’t agree to.” 

“I doubt her cosmetic preferences will outweigh functionality.” 

It’s Spencer’s voice, Spencer’s hand on your leg. He’s reaching back to hold you as he defends you. “Respectfully, you don’t know her. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She needs peace and quiet.” 

The doctor harrumphs but leaves. Quiet is restored, and for a while you doze, the only thing at your attention Spencer’s hand where it climbs. He takes your hand. You know his fingers well where they twine between yours. 

A few hours pass by in sluggish slee, the bed elevated to an uncomfortable sitting position. 

“Hey?” he asks, fingertips to the hill of your shoulder. “Are you waking up?” 

You can’t make your mouth form words. Your eyes flash open in shock.

“Hey, don’t panic. I’m sorry, I’m going to explain, but please don’t panic.” 

You wait. 

Spencer stands in a rumpled shirt, hair in his eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. “Your jaw is broken, fractured, actually, pretty badly. You’ve had so much pain relief over the last few hours I’m surprised you can even open your eyes, and it’s good you’re struggling to move your mouth because it would only hurt anyways.” He claps your arm gently. “I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere though, okay? I’m right here.” 

That’s not what scares you; you know Spencer’s gonna stay. It’s not a question. 

Your hand strays up to your face. 

“It’s not bad,” he swears, and perhaps lies. 

“Spence,” you manage, a croak that aches and lisps at once. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning down. “Please don’t get upset.” 

You blink tearfully. You don’t remember what happened, just the flash of pain and now Spencer looking down at you like you’re wounded. He sits carefully on the side of your bed and grabs you by the waist, two hands on your sides and arms resting on your stomach, like a hug that hasn’t crept forward. 

“You won’t like the bruise,” he says apologetically. 

“Bad?” you whisper. 

“It’s all the way up to your eye. He also chipped two of your teeth… I’m so sorry, angel. It was my fault.” He thumbs your ribs. “I’ll fix everything. I already talked to your dentist, and tonight they’re coming back to talk about your plastics because the blow split your skin, okay? But you're mostly fixed already.” 

“‘M I… still pretty?” you ask. 

“Still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, not half as shyly as he’d usually would. 

You cry panicked, dribbly tears. He rubs shapes into your sides and swears again that it’ll all be okay, and it’s not that you don’t believe him, it’s just that it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Had a bad feeling,” he says, wiping your tears as gently as he can before they can wet the bandaging on your jaw.

“Did you get him for me?” you ask. 

Morgan clears his throat from the doorway to announce his arrival, a coffee cup in hand, pastry bag hanging between his pinky and marriage finger. He sounds like he’s about to laugh, “Did you, lover boy?” He beams at you. “I’ve never seen him pistol whip someone before. You would’ve loved it.”

You groan in agony. Missing out on seeing that is almost as bad as breaking your jaw. 

“I’ll recreate it for you,” Spencer promises. 

“And now it’s time for him to eat,” Morgan says, putting the pastry bag on the bed, “and get some sleep. He hasn’t slept in the two days you’ve been in here.”

“I had important stuff to take care of,” he says, rubbing your side. “While you couldn’t do it yourself.”

“Sleep,” you insist through your achy mouth.

Spencer’s eyes go soft and sad. “I will.”

[ollyissleepy]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairings: platonic yandere!batfam x uninterested!male!reader summary: After being caught red handed stealing, (name) finds himself in the Wayne Manor, surrounded by his new family. (Name)'s disinterested in bonding is met with equally not caring siblings and father. As he spends his days alone, (name) realises his new family might care much more than he originally thought the did. cw: stealing, swearing, a/n: there isn't really anything triggering in this part yet, but I want to start warning from the beginning since it will turn dark in next parts based on this idea I had

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

Commissioner Gordon makes another lap around the interrogation room, trying to think of something that would make his detainee finally talk. He looks back at the teenager. Gordon knows he can't keep the boy there for long as he's still underage. The commissioner is used to the teenagers that were caught giving out any needed information easily, most too scared of the possible consequences they might be facing. The teenage boy who was brought in today seemed like a hard one to crack, with a few police officers giving up on trying after the first hour of the boy being there. Usually Gordon would send for yet another officer to try to rip out any information, but after hearing one of them suggest to just let the teenager go with a warning that next time he would be caught, it wouldn't be so nice. The commissioner couldn't just allow them to release the boy, knowing that he matches the description of a thief who was roaming around the area and also finding multiple stolen items in the boy's possession.

It had been an hour since Gordon came in the interrogation room, thinking it would be a quick task. He thought that the years of experience he had would make gathering information about teenagers' parents an easy job. As it turns out, Commissioner Gordon couldn't be more wrong.

"Listen, we not only caught you stealing but also in possession of stolen goods." The commissioner states, pretending to read over the files other officers filled in on the boy. "If you tell us a way to contact your parents, I'm sure we could sort this out without a big punishment." He looks up at the teenager, making sure his voice sounds as sincere as he can muster it to be.

Gordon watches the teenager carefully, waiting for the smallest of changes. Nothing happens. The teenager's expression remains stoic; not a single muscle moved at the mention of his parents. The boy's sight never leaves the one stop he picked at the table, his eyes remaining locked there, even when Gordon first came inside the room.

"Kid, I understand that you might be scared, but I promise you that I'll talk to your parents and explain everything to them." Gordon chooses his words carefully, using every trick he learnt over his years as a commissioner, hoping to gain a grain of trust from the boy.

"I don't have parents," the boy responds after a while, his eyes never meeting the commissioner's.

Gordon is taken aback by the teenager's statement. For a moment he thinks that he might be crossing a line, his mind wondering if the boy might truly not have any alive parents. But then, he takes another look at the teenager, who didn't even move any unnecessary muscles, apart from the ones needed for speaking. Something about his stoic face made Gordon believe that the boy was simply hiding the identities of his guardians. The commissioner sighs, trying to think of a different approach, something to make the boy talk. He decides to sit across from the teenager, grabbing his case file.

"Let's start with something easier then." Gordon reads through the little information previous officers managed to gather on the boy, picking something he believes would be easy to give out. "Why don't you tell me your name, just your first name? That's all I want."

The teenager stays quiet for a while, making Gordon think he chose the wrong way to go about it. Just when the commissioner was about to ask a different question, the boy looked up from the table to stare directly into Gordon's eyes. Both of them hold eye contact for a while before the boy speaks up, catching the commissioner off guard:

"(Name)." The teenager's voice was barely audible in the quiet interrogation room.

"What was that?" Gordon leaned forward, straining to hear.

"I'm (Name)." The boy repeated louder, finally looking up from the steel table to meet Gordon's eyes.

"Alright, (Name)." Gordon wrote the name in his file, the scratch of his pen unnaturally loud. "And how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

The commissioner nodded, filling in another blank. His shoulders relaxed slightly – finally making progress. "And your parents' names?"

"I don't have any." (Name)’s expression didn’t change.

"Don't make me bring out the big guns, kid." Gordon's pen stopped mid-word.

"I'm not lying." The boy's voice stayed flat. "I don't have parents."

"Listen, everybody has parents." Irritation crept into Gordon's tone.

"Well, I don't." The teenager shrugged, his face unreadable. "Not as far as I know, anyway."

The boy's response made Gordon realise he might be talking to a kid that was either thrown out of their house recently or an orphan. He looks over the file, trying to think of how to learn the kid's parent's current status. He knows that without that knowledge, his hands are practically tied.

"I warned you, kid," Gordon's voice deepened, his eyes filled with irritation.

Commissioner Gordon doesn't wait for (name) to reply; he stands up, leaving the room. The man's leave brought confusion to the teenager. Just as the boy started standing up to look for a way to escape the interrogation room, the door opened. Gordon came inside with two more people trailing behind him, one of them carrying a briefcase.

"I'm afraid you left us with no other choice," Gordon states, his tone stripped of any emotion. Every person in the room can tell he's tired of this situation. "We're going to have to run a DNA test to determine your parents whereabouts. You'll also be staying in here until that's figured out."

None of the adults in the room wait for the boy to respond, as they begin to set up everything for his DNA sample. He doesn't protest, already knowing where his parents were. Or at least where his mother was, as he never really met his father. (Name) highly doubted they would be able to contact his father, and he could use not having to worry about food and water for the next few days. He's planning to enjoy the luxury of the amenities a cell in the police station offers. After the test results return, he'll make sure to escape before they manage to do anything about them.

Gordon is amazed about the lack of fight from the boy, watching him politely open his mouth so the officers could take the sample. The commissioner starts to wonder where this energy was when the teenager was asked questions.

When the officers were securing the sample, Gordon brought (name) to one of the cells. He decides to put the boy into the only single cell they have, not wanting him to be stuck in a small space with dangerous adults. The commissioner makes sure to go over the rules and the time dinner is brought as he uncuffs the boy. He lingers around the cell, a part of him hoping that (name) might say something, only to be met with silence. Gordon sighs before returning to his office, leaving the teenager alone.

A few days later (name) finds himself standing on his tippytoes, trying to see if he could remove the bars from the window, when two voices from outside his cell catch his attention. He recognises one of them as Commissioner Gordons. The boy thinks the unknown one must belong to a recently caught criminal or somebody's bail. As he hears them approaching, he quickly moves away, not wanting to be caught planning out his escape. The teenager sits down on his bed, finding an interesting crack in the wall to stare at.

"That's him?" The man dressed in a suit asks, his eyes brushing over the boy in the cell. Gordon confirms, also staring at the boy, trying to think of a way to tell him who the man is.

"(Name), we have found your father." Gordon doesn't want to beat around the bush, knowing the boy long enough to know it wouldn't work on him. "I want you to meet Bruce Wayne."

The teenager looks at the man the commissioner introduced as his father, judging the way he presents himself. Seeing the man dressed in a fancy suit, looking as if he owns the place. It's making (name) regret not begging the police officers to just put him through trial like an adult. Perhaps then he wouldn't have to meet his 'father' that looks like he has a stick so far up his ass it might burst through his mouth at any moment.

Bruce, after noticing the boy staring at him, also takes a moment to take in the way his supposed son looks like. The man sees the way (name)'s eyes move from one part of his body to the other. Bruce studies the teenager's face, the clothes he has on his back, and the way the boy is sitting on the bed. The more Bruce is staring at the teenager, the more similarities he finds in (name).

"It's nice to meet you." Bruce's voice is much lower than the boy thought it would be. He wasn't sure how to feel about the man that's supposed to be his father.

The teenager doesn't reply; if it weren't for the rises and falls of his form as the boy is breathing, Bruce might just mistake him for a statue. The two of them continue staring at each other before Commissioner Gordon grabs Bruce's attention. He explains to the man how (name) seems to only respond when he deems it necessary. Bruce nods, asking about the papers he might need to file to get the boy out of the cell. The commissioner asks the man to follow him, and both of them leave, not looking back at the teenager in the cell.

(Name) isn't left there for too long; he doesn't even have much time to process what just happened. Next thing he knows, some officer is opening his cell, asking him to come out. The teenager follows the officer, making sure to look out for any possible runaway route. The wonder in his eyes around the space the boy is in doesn't go unnoticed by Bruce.

"You're going to behave as we walk into the car; no running away." Bruce makes sure his is only heard by the boy in front of him; he doesn't have time for games. "If you pull something like that, I'll send you straight back into that cell."

When no response falls out of the teenager's mouth, Bruce turns around and starts walking out of the police station with the boy quietly following him behind. The police officers, who had the pleasure of meeting the kid on his first day there, fully expected (name) to put up a fight or maybe even run away. When neither of those things happen, they're shocked but glad they didn't have to run after a runaway kid.

The walk to Bruce's car isn't long, as the man parked right in front of the building. Bruce gestures for the boy to get inside as he walks to the other side of the car. (Name) decides to sit in the backseat, hoping to create as much space between himself and the stranger as it was possible. The soft humming of the car relaxes the boy a bit, but not enough to put his guard down.

As Bruce drives a familiar route through the city, it hits him that he hasn't heard his son's voice even once since he met the boy. He sees the opportunity for a conversation when the car is forced to stop at a red light. Bruce uses the rearview mirror to check on (name) in the backseat. He notices the way the teenager is sitting, staring out the window. Bruce studies the boy's expression, the way his eyes are watching something outside in melancholy. He tries to think of something to say, anything that would make the teenage boy finally answer him.

"I heard about your mother; sorry you had to go through that alone," Bruce says, his voice as soft as he could make it be.

The teenager's only response is a small shrug of his shoulders, his eyes never leaving the window. Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He knows what (name) must be feeling; Gordon told him that the boy probably lost his mother recently. He, however, believes that the loss of a parent doesn't excuse the teenager from acting like a brat.

The rest of the ride is quiet, neither of the people inside the car wanting to speak up. Bruce gave up on further bonding with the child, fully labelling him as entitled and deciding that if (name) wants to act like a brat, then he will be treated like one too.

Bruce pulls up into the driveway; he spares another glance at the boy in the backseat before telling him to get out of the car. He exits as well and starts walking up to the front door with teenagers silent footsteps following behind. Both of them barely making it to the door when a man with grey hair, dressed in a butler's clothes, opens them.

(Name) unsurely steps inside the manor as every fibre of his body is screaming how he doesn't belong in there. As they step in further into the space, the boy takes a moment to look around, making a note to check for every possible escape route, just in case. (Name) is so focused on analysing the room he's in that he doesn't notice that his 'father' began walking up the stairs, clearly no longer interested in the teenager. Only Bruce's voice snaps the boy out of the trance:

"Alfred, please show the boy his room" is the last thing Bruce says before retreating upstairs.

The butler nods at his 'father's' request, asking the boy to follow him. In an instinct, he moves to grab whatever the bag the child may have, only to notice that (name) doesn't have anything with him other than the clothes on his back. Alfred makes a note to ask other boys in the manor to borrow some of their unused clothes for their new brother to wear.

As the two of them make their way into the boy's new room, (name) once again becomes extremely wary of his surroundings. He makes sure to remember how many doors they have passed. The teenager can't help but wonder at how effective the huge windows in the hall would be as an escape route. (Name) quickly gets rid of this idea, knowing that the windows in his new room would be a thousand times better for that.

"And here's your room…" Alfred begins his sentence as he opens one of the doors far into the hall. "My apologies, young master, I'm afraid I haven't caught your name."

"Alfred, right?" The boy asks, unsure if he remembered correctly what Bruce had referred to the older man as. The butler nods, smiling softly. "I'm (name), just (name). Please, don't refer to me as 'young master'; it would mean a lot."

"Of course, (name). I would keep it in mind," Alfred replied, causing the boy to smile ever so slightly. "I shall leave you to get comfortable and check if anyone is willing to borrow their clothes," he adds as he steps closer to the door, getting ready to leave.

"Please, don't." The boy's voice stops Alfred in his tracks, making him turn around. "I would rather wear my own."

"I must insist." Alfred wants to reason with the boy, noticing the grime on the boy's clothes.

"It's fine, really," (name) reassures, forcing himself to form a small smile, hoping the butler would just give in. "I could go back home to grab them tomorrow or something."

"Then I shall accompany you," Alrder declares, his back straightening slightly, showing the teenager that he won't back down.

"I could go by myself," the boy said, the last thing he wanted was to bring anyone from his family to his home. His real home.

"I'm more than happy to help you with the move, (name)." Alfred smiles, wanting to reassure the boy that he doesn't mean any harm. (Name) sighs in defeat.

"Alright, if you say so," the boy mumbles, his shoulders slouching. He's not sure how much longer he'll be able to put up with all of that, being way too used to being alone.

Alfred leaves, letting the boy know that someone would come and bring him over to the dining room for dinner. Once (name) is sure that nobody will be barging into the room anytime soon, he looks over the entire room. He makes sure to check every piece of furniture, every drawer, for anything that he could use in case he had to protect himself. Upon not finding anything useful, he gave up, hoping that his fists would be enough in case of an emergency.

Since the boy didn't find anything in the room, he moves over to the bathroom, wanting to clean himself up. He couldn't really do that at the police station. In the room he finds small versions of everyday products like some shower gel, some toothpaste and more. The teenager now knows that he must be in one of the guest bedrooms in the manor. That thought made him feel a little better. Being in the guest bedroom means he probably wouldn't be staying there for too long.

Feeling freshened up, as much as he could be due to the clothes he was forced to wear for the past few days, he decided to rest on the bed. (Name) already had a chance at feeling how comfortable it was when he was checking the room. He decided to lie down for just a minute, not wanting to put his guard down too much. The warmth of the bed successfully distracts the boy from all of his fears, pulling him into a slumber.

It wasn't till a few hours later that a knock on the door pulled (name) out of his sleep. The boy shoots up, not wanting to be caught vulnerable. He shifted his position into one he could easily take down the attacker. When the doors finally open, just to reveal that Alfred was behind them, (name) relaxes. He knows the man won't be much of a threat.

"I left Master Damian in charge of calling you over for dinner; it seems as if he forgot," Alfred explains, his face stoic. "I have brought you something." He puts the plate he was holding onto the desk, the aroma of the food slowly filling up the room.

"That's alright, Alfred," the boy said, his eyes not leaving the food the butler just brought. "I wasn't that hungry anyway," he lies; he might be hungry, but he's not hungry enough to risk getting poisoned.

"Please, eat up." Alfred encourages the boy, noticing the hunger in his eyes. "I'll make sure that your absence won't be overlooked by the family anymore."

With his declaration, Alfred leaves. (Name) once again is left alone in the room. He stares at the food the butler has brought, unsure if he should eat it or not, still not trusting anyone in the house. The smell of the food, however, made the boy give in. He grabs the food from the desk, slowly munching on it, still sitting on the bed.

As (name) eats the food prepared by Alfred, he tries to think about his next step. He hoped that the butler would allow him to collect his things by himself, giving him a way of fleeing without much work. But with Alfred's desire to help him out, that plan is now out of the window. The boy knows he has to come up with something fast, not wanting to stay in the manor for longer than necessary. That, however, would have to be done another time. The teenager's only focus for now would be to retreat all of his belongings from his real home to here. His great escape plan has to wait until then.

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

[lcriedlastnight]

Lando calling reader his wife even though they’ve only been together for about a year

oh my god yes anon i love this idea!

tw: fem!reader, swears maybe, she's on the shorter side! lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 944

lando was the perfect boyfriend. he was everything you had ever wanted in a partner. you liked to think he was literally made for you. how can someone be so perfect for you and not be? it was not possible.

you loved pet names and he loved calling you them. you loved touching him in anyway you could and he loved touching you ten times more. you loved doing things for him to show him just how much and how deeply you cared for and loved him and he loved sitting back and letting you help him destress from a busy race weekend. when you needed space? he would just go away to race for the weekend and let you realise that you could barely function without him and his love.

you had been out shopping with some of your friends for one of their birthdays. it had been nice catching up with them but your separation issues from your boyfriend had ended up kicking in and you could not wait to get home. you were itching to just sit on his lap and have him explain the plot of some dumb film that he had put on while waiting for you to come home.

when you trod back into lando's place, slipping off your shoes and leaving them by the door, the first thing you hear is lando's infectious laugh booming from his streaming room. it makes you smile as soon as you hear it even though it makes you realise you probably will not be able to sit with him for at least another hour, at least. your hands are still holding onto your shopping bags as you pass by his room as quietly as you possibly can, so as not to disturb him and his friends. you dump the bags in your bedroom and plan to head back into the living room to watch some tv and relax.

lando hears you this time and calls out for you, the door is creaked open a touch as you prepare yourself to be seen by millions of lando's fans. as you enter the room you hear one of the guys lando was streaming with (you were almost positive it was ginge) ask lando something you could not make out. lando's response almost kills you off though, his fans too.

"nah, the wife is just back home from shopping so i'll be finishing this game then hopping off." if you were holding anything it would have just fallen and shattered to the ground. you hoped your expression was hidden from his camera. you clear your throat and lando spins around mid-game to greet you. he slides his gaming headphones down to rest on his neck and reaches back to mute the stream but not before he mutters out in the warmest voice he can muster, a "hiya, honey."

you smile down at him as he shuffles his chair closer to you then sticks hims arms out like a child, practically begging for a hug from you. your mind is still stuck on the wife thing but you fall into his arms willingly anyway.

you straddle him on the big gaming chair, the tops of your heads at the only things that can be seen on the camera. lando presses a few kisses into your hair as he holds you close.

"missed you while you were gone." lando speaks into your hair, it makes you laugh.

"i was gone for three hours."

"ugh, don't remind me! i almost died from boredem." lando groans, head falling back against the soft material of the chair. you just laugh into his neck, nose brushing his throat softly.

"drama queen." you roll your eyes.

lando looks down at you with the biggest heart eyes you have ever seen and you feel your heart melt into a massive puddle in your ribcage, you feel it drip down to settle into your stomach.

"so i'm your wife then, huh?" you ask with a smile and a teasing tone. you feel lando tense up a little but he relaxes as soon as he feels your smile against his skin. his hand comes to splay out across your back to keep you supported. then he is smiling as he explains himself.

"guess i'm just so used to called you my wife when i'm with my friends that i accidentally did it on stream. sorry honey, didn't mean to embarrass you." lando says, almost shyly. his eyes peer down at yours to see your reaction.

"you call me your wife to your friends?" you smile back at him, hand coming up to run through his messy curls. the other resting on the side of his neck.

lando grins a stupid big smile at you as your hand rakes through his hair. "well you're gonna be one of these days right? might as well get the practise in. don't wanna slip up and call my wife my girlfriend now do i?" he is cheeky in his words and tone but you let him off. even though his logic makes no sense. you know it makes sense to lando so you let that go too.

"okay, sure. whatever you say husband." you did not think lando's smile could get any bigger. you were so wrong. he laughs and holds you close. little did either of you know that lando had missed the mute button and around three thousand of lando’s fans, plus all his friends had heard you both. lando would find out once he went back on his phone the next day, spending the rest of the evening and then the night with his girlfriend (wife).

[poguelandiarafe]

broken promises | rafe cameron

pairing - rafe cameron x female reader

warnings - angst, mature language, mentions of infidelity.

summary - after coming home to rafe in bed with another girl, he tries to break up with you, claiming 'it's for your own good'. you don't let him, not allowing him to play the victim. there's a plot twist at the end btw :)

masterlist

part two

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"it's for your own good, y/n. you know it is."

the room is heavy with tension as you stand in front of rafe. as you stand in front of the man who, for the past three years, always told you he'd do anything for you, who told you how much he loved you every day. now all those words feel meaningless.

he's sat on the edge of the bed, jaw clenched as he watches you pace in front of him. his gaze is fixed on the floor, unable to meet yours while your words punch through the air. his hands are interlocked, resting in his lap as if he's trying to restrain himself from grabbing you and forcing you to let him explain. but it's too late for that now.

"no, no, no, rafe," you say, voice trembling but getting louder with each word, "you do not get to have the satisfaction of ending this relationship. i won't let you sit here and pretend you're ending it for me when you're the one who fucked up."

your voice echoes off the walls that once contained your shared love and laughter but now contain heartbreak and infidelity. the sheets of the bed are still messy and as you glance at them, they do nothing but fuel your rage. your chest is heaving and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. the anger and betrayal course through your veins as you try to make sense of what you came home to.

"sofia." her name makes you sick to your stomach as you say it.

rafe closes his eyes, like if he can't see the mess he created it'll all go away. he lets out a shaky breath but still remains silent. you laugh dryly when he doesn't respond and his head snaps up to meet your gaze.

"say something." you demand, "say something, rafe. or i swear to god i'll walk out of here right now."

he inhales deeply, running a hand over his buzzed hair, "what do you want me to say, huh? that i regret it? of course i fucking do, but it's happened! i can't do anything to change that."

your mind is racing, thoughts consumed with images of him and sofia together. of her standing right where you are now, her laying where you lay every night.

"wow," you whisper, kissing your teeth, "you don't even care do you? you don't even care that i had to see the love of my life in my bed with another girl."

"our be-"

"don't!" you cut him off, "don't you dare say our bed, rafe. i don't want to share anything with you after what you've done."

"y/n, please, i'm sorry," he says, vulnerability lacing his words, "i never wanted this to happen."

"never wanted it to happen or never wanted me to find out?" you scoff, "you're not the victim here, rafe. nothing about this makes you the victim. not only did you cheat on me, but you're trying to end this with me? i don't think so."

his eyes darken and he lets out another shaky breath. you're staring at him intensely, waiting for his next move, for him to do something. he stands up, stepping closer to you and attempts to touch your arm before you step back.

"don't touch me." you warn, voice cracking slightly, "just... i'm gonna go. i can't be here right now."

his face falls, the depth of the mess he created finally setting in. he watches as you grab your bag, shuffling around for something inside until you find it.

"i'm pregnant, by the way," you announce, throwing the pregnancy test at him before turning around and leaving, "merry fucking christmas, rafe."