#Jack Draper anyone? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lifeofpriya · 4 months ago

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So Long, London - Jack Draper

[gif credit goes to @pyotrkochetkov]

a/n: this fic was heavily inspired by @pyotrkochetkov's post a few days ago about a jack angst fic idea she wanted someone to write 🤭 this is probably the longest fic i've ever written, so sit down, grab a drink and some snacks, and buckle down for the ride, y'all!

summary: what once was a vibrant relationship begins to fade, leaving both of you to drift apart and question your future together...

You woke up to the soft patter of rain outside the window, the sound barely audible over the steady hum of the city below. Stretching, you felt the stiffness in your body from the long hours spent at the office, the tension that had become a second skin to you. Your apartment in the heart of London was a sanctuary from the outside world, a place where you could shed the mask of the day and just be.

Jack's side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold to the touch. You knew his schedule by heart now: early morning training sessions, a quick breakfast, and then off to the courts. You had met him at a charity event a few months ago, and it had been love at first serve. His hazel eyes had pierced through the bustle of the crowd, his smile a warm embrace even in the chilly London air. He was everything you had ever wanted: successful, charming, and attentive.

But lately, something had changed. The texts grew shorter, and the phone calls less frequent. His dedication to tennis seemed to have swallowed him whole, leaving you with the crumbs of his attention. You tried not to let it show and pretended everything was fine, but the cracks in your relationship had started to widen like a fissure in a frozen lake. The apartment that once echoed with laughter and shared dreams now felt more like a museum of memories, each room a silent exhibit of what used to be.

As his career was reaching new heights, your world was slowly shrinking. The thrill of watching him play had become a distant memory, replaced by the cold reality of his absence. His victories no longer filled you with joy, but instead, a sinking feeling of loneliness. You had become an afterthought in his life, a box to check off his to-do list. You missed the way his eyes used to light up when you talked about your day, the gentle way his hand would brush against yours, the way his laughter could fill a room.

The effort you put into maintaining the façade of happiness grew tiresome, like a dance you had learned by heart but no longer enjoyed performing. You'd stay up late into the night, scrolling through social media, watching as his life played out in highlight reels and sponsored posts. The more successful he became, the more invisible you felt. You tried talking to him, but he'd always dismiss it as work stress, promising things would get better once the season was over. Yet, the seasons changed, and so did nothing else.

One evening, you decided to surprise him at his match. The stadium was packed, the air thick with anticipation as he took to the court. You watched him from the stands, his muscles flexing with each powerful serve, his eyes focused solely on the prize. He didn't see you there, not even when you cheered louder than anyone else. After his victory, you waited for him by the exit, clutching the bouquet of flowers you had bought. He walked by, surrounded by an entourage of fans and colleagues, and for a moment, his eyes met yours. But they didn't linger. They slid away as if you were just another face in the crowd.

The ache in your chest grew sharper with each passing day. You found yourself questioning every little thing: every unanswered text, every late-night training session, every time he chose the courts over you. The silence between you had become deafening, a void that swallowed up the love that once thrived. You knew you couldn't go on like this, living in the shadow of his career, but you were afraid to let go. The thought of ending it all was like contemplating the destruction of your own heart.

The rain had stopped, but the gray sky remained a gloomy backdrop to your mood. You decided to take a walk, hoping the fresh air would clear your thoughts. The cobblestone streets were slick under your shoes, and the scent of wet earth and the distant waft of a bakery mingled in the damp air. Each step took you further from the apartment, away from the reminders of the life you had built together, and closer to the realization that it was all falling apart.

As you strolled through the quiet, tree-lined streets, you passed by a small café. Through the steamy window, you saw a couple holding hands over a cup of coffee, their smiles a stark contrast to the sadness you felt. You thought about the times you and Jack had sat in places like this, sipping hot drinks and sharing your hopes and fears. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Your eyes stung with unshed tears, and you quickened your pace, not wanting to be caught in a moment of weakness.

You found yourself in the park, the same one where you had shared your first kiss. The leaves were turning gold, a poignant reminder of the autumn of your relationship. You sat on a bench, watching as children played nearby, their laughter a bittersweet symphony that taunted the silence in your soul.

You had enough. You knew you deserved better, more than the fleeting moments of affection and the empty promises of quality time. So, you gathered your courage and decided to confront Jack. You waited for him to come home, your heart racing with every tick of the clock. When he finally walked through the door, sweat-soaked and exhausted, you couldn't hide the sadness in your eyes anymore.

"Jack, we need to talk," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

He looked up from his gym bag, surprise etched on his weary face. "What's up?"

You took a deep breath, the words you had rehearsed so many times now poised on the edge of your tongue. "This isn't working anymore, is it?"

Jack paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he processed your words. The weight of the unspoken hung heavily in the air, a silent testament to the distance that had grown between you. He sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world, and dropped his bag to the floor. "What do you mean?"

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines around his mouth that had deepened since you last had a real conversation. But there was something else, too. A flicker of guilt that confirmed what you already knew. "I mean," you began, your voice wavering slightly, "that we're drifting apart. That your tennis is consuming everything, and I'm just… I'm just here, waiting for you to come up for air."

Jack leaned against the door, his posture deflating as he took in your words. He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he had when he was stressed or confused. "I know I've been busy," he started, his voice low and sincere, "but I thought we were okay."

You felt a knot in your throat, the years of pent-up frustration and love tangled together in a mess that was difficult to unravel. "Okay isn't enough," you said firmly. "I need more than okay."

Jack's eyes searched yours, looking for a hint of the spark that had brought you two together. He took a step closer, his hands reaching out tentatively, as if to bridge the gap that had grown between you. "What do you want from me?"

You hesitated, the question echoing in your mind. What did you want? You wanted the love you had felt in those early days, the excitement of discovery, and the comfort of shared experiences. But that seemed like a distant dream now. "I want you," you said finally, the words coming out more as a plea than a demand. "I want the person I fell in love with."

Jack's expression softened, and for a moment, you thought he might understand. But then his eyes clouded over again, and he took a step back. "You know I can't just quit tennis," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and resentment. "This is my life. This is what I've worked for."

You felt the sting of his words, but you didn't flinch. "I'm not asking you to quit," you replied calmly. I'm just asking for balance—for us to be a priority again."

Jack looked at you, his eyes searching yours for understanding. He ran a hand through his damp hair, leaving it in disarray. "You know how much this means to me," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll try."

You nodded, hope flickering in your chest. Maybe there was a chance, a glimmer of the love you had lost. But the doubt remained, a persistent whisper in the back of your mind. The next few days were filled with tentative gestures and half-hearted attempts at connection. He'd stay up later to watch a movie with you, or surprise you with breakfast in bed, but the underlying tension remained. You could feel it, a tightrope you both danced upon, afraid to misstep and send everything plummeting into the abyss.

One evening, Jack came home earlier than expected. He had lost a match, his first in months. The defeat etched on his face was raw, unfiltered. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him it was okay, that you were there for him no matter what. But when he saw you, his eyes darkened, the weight of his failure crushing the fragile peace you had constructed.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "I need to be alone."

You felt the rejection like a punch to the gut, but you remained steadfast. "Jack, it's okay to lose," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "It doesn't change who you are."

He shrugged you off, his eyes burning with anger and disappointment. "You don't get it," he said, his voice tight. "This isn't just a game to me. It's everything."

You took a step back, the coldness of his words sending a shiver down your spine. You had never seen this side of him before, the side that was consumed by the sport, the side that didn't have room for you. "I do get it," you said, trying to keep the hurt from your voice. "But you can't let it be everything. You can't let it eat away at us."

Jack didn't respond, instead, he turned away and headed to the shower, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood there, unsure of what to do next. The apartment felt smaller, the air thick with the unspoken. You knew you had to give him space, but the walls seemed to be closing in on you, suffocating you with the weight of his pain and your own fear.

You wandered into the living room, the silence deafening. You picked up a book from the coffee table, trying to find solace in the pages, but the words blurred together, indistinct and unimportant. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation, to the coldness in his eyes when he pushed you away.

The sound of the shower finally stopped, and you could hear Jack moving around in the bedroom. You set the book down and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

When he emerged, his face was scrubbed clean, but the sadness in his eyes remained. He saw you sitting there, and for a moment, the anger was gone, replaced by a look of regret. He sat down next to you, his elbows on his knees, and leaned his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to push you away."

You put the book aside and turned to face him. "Jack, we can't go on like this," you said gently, taking his hand in yours. "I can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not."

He looked up at you, the regret in his eyes deepening. "I know," he murmured. "I've been so focused on tennis that I've neglected us. I've taken you for granted."

You shook your head, "I can't live my life fueled with empty promises anymore." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that had formed between you.

Jack's gaze dropped to the floor, his grip on your hand tightening. "I know I haven't been the best partner," he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. "But I want to change. I want to make it work."

You studied his face, searching for the truth in his words. You knew he meant it, but the doubt remained, a stubborn shadow that had taken root in your heart. "I've given you so many chances," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I'm done fighting for a relationship that feels one-sided."

Jack took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a newfound vulnerability. "I know," he said, his voice thick with regret. "And I've let you down. But if you give me one more chance, I'll prove to you that I can change. That we can find that balance."

You felt your heart ache, torn between the love you still had for him and the pain of his neglect. "Jack," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

He looked at you, the reality of your words sinking in. He leaned over and took your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. "Please," he begged, "just one more chance. I'll do whatever it takes to make it right."

You stared into his eyes, the green of the leaves outside the window casting a mottled light over his features. The love you had for him was still there, a dull throb that wouldn't go away, no matter how much you wished it would. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But the doubt was a heavy burden that you had been carrying for too long.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away from his grasp. "But I can't keep doing this." Your voice was shaky, but your resolve was unwavering.

Jack's eyes searched yours, desperation pooling in their depths. "What do you mean?"

You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat like a mouthful of dry toast. "I mean, I can't keep holding onto something that isn't working," you said, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. "I've given you all of me, and I need more than just the leftovers of your time and attention."

Jack's expression fell, the realization of his actions settling on him like a heavy fog. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. Instead, he dropped his hands to his sides, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The silence that followed was a physical presence in the room, a thick and heavy blanket that suffocated any semblance of comfort.

You stood up, the tremble in your legs betraying your inner turmoil. "I need some time to think," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked to the bedroom, each step feeling like you were walking away from a piece of yourself. You shut the door gently, leaving him sitting on the couch, alone with his thoughts.

In the bedroom, you leaned against the closed door, your chest heaving with the effort to hold back sobs. You took a moment to compose yourself, to breathe in the air that was now thick with the scent of their cologne, a smell that was once comforting but now a stark reminder of the empty promises and unfulfilled dreams. You looked around the room, at the photos of happy moments together, the trophies that gleamed in the soft light, and the empty space on the nightstand where your picture used to be.

You grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend's number, the one person who knew every detail of your relationship, every high and low. You needed her calm voice, her unwavering support. She picked up on the first ring, and without saying a word, you could feel the empathy radiating through the line. She knew something was wrong.

"He's not changing, is he?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, the truth of her words a heavy stone in your chest. "I don't know," you managed to choke out. "I want to believe he will, but I can't ignore the feeling that it's just going to be more of the same."

Your friend's voice was a soothing balm, offering comfort without judgment. "You've done everything you can," she said. "It's time to think about what you need."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. You knew she was right. You needed more than just a promise of change. You needed action, a commitment to the relationship that matched the one you had been giving all along. You sat down on the bed, the mattress squeaking under your weight, and took a deep breath. The rain had started again, the droplets tapping a solemn rhythm on the window.

Jack's side of the closet was a testament to his life on the road, a chaotic mess of suitcases and rumpled clothes. You stared at his tennis shoes, the ones he had worn when you had watched him win his first major tournament. They were pristine white, now scuffed and worn from his relentless pursuit of greatness. You felt a pang of sadness, wondering if his dedication to the sport had cost him more than just your happiness.

With a heavy heart, you began to pack a bag of your own. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you couldn't stay here anymore. Each item you placed in the bag was a symbol of your own strength, a declaration of independence from the shadow of his success. The sound of your zipper closing was the final act in a play that had gone on for too long.

You walked out to the living room, your bag slung over your shoulder, and found Jack still sitting on the couch. He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy, the weight of his own regret etched into his features. "I'm sorry," he murmured again, but the words felt hollow in the face of your resolve. "I guess this is it," he said, standing up.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The words you wanted to say, the anger and hurt you had bottled up for so long, threatened to spill out in a flood of accusations and recriminations. But you knew that wouldn't change anything. You had made your decision, and it was time to move on. "I need to go," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging within.

Jack stepped aside, allowing you to pass. As you moved through the apartment, each room whispered memories that now felt like ghosts. You paused in the kitchen, the sight of the mug tree bringing a lump to your throat. So many mornings you had made him tea, hoping the simple act would be enough to keep him grounded, to remind him of what he had waiting for him at home. It was a futile hope, one that had been shattered by the relentless pull of the courts.

You took one last look around, the walls now echoing with the silence of your unanswered calls and the emptiness of his promises. The door clicked shut behind you, a finality that resonated through your bones. The cool air outside was a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere you had left behind.

You wandered the streets, the rain now a gentle patter that matched the rhythm of your thoughts. Each step took you further from the apartment, from the life you had built with him, and closer to the unknown. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a shimmering glow that seemed to mock the darkness of your heart.

You called a taxi, the neon lights of the car blinking through the mist like a beacon of escape. The driver looked at you in the rearview mirror, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. You gave him the address of a hotel you had found online, one that offered a quiet refuge from the tumultuous storm of your emotions.

As the city passed by in a blur of lights and rain-slicked streets, you stared out the window, the cold glass pressing against your forehead. Your thoughts swirled like the wind outside, a chaotic mix of doubt, anger, and sorrow. You wondered if you were making a mistake, if you were giving up too quickly. But the weight of the decision settled in your stomach like a lead ball, a sure sign that you were doing what needed to be done.

When the taxi pulled up to the hotel, the doorman rushed to open the door, offering you a sympathetic smile as you stepped out into the damp night. The lobby was a welcome respite from the storm, warm and quiet, with a faint scent of vanilla and fresh flowers. The receptionist offered her condolences for the weather as she checked you in, her eyes flicking to the bag slung over your shoulder, but she said nothing about the tears that had streaked your cheeks.

You took the elevator to the top floor, the ride up feeling like an ascension to a new chapter of your life. The room was small but cozy, with a plush bed that beckoned you to rest and a view of the city that reminded you of the vast expanse of possibilities ahead. You set your bag down, and for a moment, you just stood there, listening to the rain tap against the window, feeling the weight of the silence that was now yours alone.

You called your friend back, her voice a lifeline in the sea of your doubt. She talked you through the pain, her words of encouragement and understanding a salve to your bruised heart. She reminded you of who you were before Jack, of the dreams you had put on hold, of the life that was still waiting for you outside the shadow of his ambition.

You took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the tension and the tears. You felt the warmth seep into your skin, rekindling a spark of life that had been all but snuffed out. When you emerged, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel and looked in the mirror. The person staring back at you was tired but determined.

You pulled on a pair of comfortable pajamas and climbed into the bed, feeling the cool sheets against your flushed skin. You lay there for a while, listening to the rain outside, feeling the sadness wash over you in waves. But as the night grew darker, something shifted. The weight of your decision began to feel lighter, replaced by a quiet sense of relief. You had stood up for yourself, and that was something to be proud of.

As you drifted off to sleep, your mind played back moments of your relationship—the laughter, the tears, the passion. You felt the ache of loss, but also the flicker of hope. Maybe this was the end, or perhaps it was just the end of a chapter. Either way, you knew you had made the right choice.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of the city waking up. The rain had stopped, and the sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You felt a strange mix of emotions—sadness, relief, fear, and a hint of excitement for the unknown. You knew you couldn't stay in this hotel forever, but for now, it was your sanctuary, a place to heal and decide your next steps.

You ordered room service, and the comforting taste of tea and toast was a gentle reminder of the life you once knew. You spent the day in a daze, watching movies and scrolling through social media, trying to distract yourself from the reality of your situation. But every notification, every article about Jack's latest match, brought the pain back in full force.

In the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you allowed yourself to grieve the relationship you had lost. The highs and the lows, the love and the neglect, all culminating in this moment of solitude. You cried until there were no more tears left, until your eyes were puffy and your throat raw.

As the days passed, you began to feel the tentative beginnings of strength. Each time you checked your phone and saw a message from Jack, you resisted the urge to respond immediately. Instead, you took a deep breath and waited, letting the words sit unanswered, giving yourself the space to think and feel.

You started to explore the city again, the same streets that had once been the backdrop to your shared life now a canvas for new adventures. You visited museums and parks, wandered through markets and cafes, rediscovering the joy of doing things on your own terms. The world didn't revolve around his schedule anymore, and the freedom was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Meanwhile, Jack's life continued on the tennis tour, but the sting of your departure remained. He found it difficult to focus, his mind often drifting to the emptiness of the apartment and the echo of your voice. His performances on the court suffered, and the whispers of doubt grew louder in his ears. He knew he had lost more than just a partner in you; he had lost a piece of himself.

"Game, set, match, Alcaraz," the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium, and Jack's shoulders dropped in defeat. His eyes searched the stands, but there was no sign of you. It had been weeks since you had last spoken, and the void in his life was a constant reminder of his failure.

The applause from the crowd seemed muted as he made his way to the locker room, the weight of his loss heavy on his shoulders. His coach tried to offer words of encouragement, but Jack knew that nothing could fill the emptiness that your absence had left. He had pushed you away with his obsession, and now he faced the stark reality of a life without your warmth and support.

In the quiet of his hotel room, Jack stared at his phone, the screen lighting up with messages from his agent, his coach, and his friends. But the one message he craved was from you. He knew he had to make a change, to prove to you and himself that he could balance his career with the love you both deserved.

The weeks passed in a blur of matches and press conferences, but Jack couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that had settled in his chest. His game suffered, his focus scattered. His entourage noticed the shift, their worried glances and hushed conversations a constant reminder of his personal turmoil.

One evening, after a particularly crushing loss, Jack found himself unable to face the empty hotel suite. Instead, he wandered the streets, seeking solace in the anonymity of the city.

He ended up at a small, dimly lit pub, the kind of place where the locals gathered to drown their sorrows and share their stories. The warm, woody scent of beer and the comforting murmur of conversation wrapped around him like a blanket. He took a seat at the bar, the polished wood cool against his palms.

The bartender, a middle-aged woman with a kind face and a knowing smile, approached him. "Rough day?" she asked, her voice a gentle rumble.

Jack nodded, his eyes downcast. "Rough few weeks, actually," he murmured, the weight of his words heavier than the silence that followed.

The bartender leaned closer, a hint of concern in her gaze. "Love troubles?" she ventured.

Jack sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Something like that," he replied, staring into the amber depths of his whiskey.

The woman nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's tough when you lose someone important, especially when you know you're the one who messed up." She wiped the counter with a cloth that had seen better days. "But you're young, and you're talented. You've got time to make it right."

Jack took a sip of his drink, the burn in his throat mirroring the ache in his heart. "I just don't know if I can," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I've lost so much already."

The bartender's expression softened. "You can't change the past, love," she said, her voice a soothing balm. "But you can learn from it. Sometimes, you have to hit rock bottom before you realize what you truly want."

Jack nodded, the whiskey warming him from the inside out. He knew she was right. The pain of losing you had brought a clarity to his life that he hadn't felt in a long time. Tennis was his love, his passion, but it couldn't be his everything.

The next day, Jack took a deep breath as he walked into the gym, his eyes scanning the familiar space for any signs of change. His coach noticed the determination in his stride and nodded approvingly. They began to work on a new strategy, one that didn't just focus on his serve and volley but also on his mental fortitude. Between sets, Jack's thoughts drifted to you, to the way your eyes would light up when he talked about his matches, the way you'd listen intently and offer insights that often proved invaluable. He missed that connection, the way you understood him in a way no one else did.

As he swiped the sweat from his brow, Jack made a silent vow to become the person you deserved, to find the balance between his love for tennis and his love for you. It wasn't going to be easy, and he knew that he couldn't expect you to come running back with open arms. But he had to try, for both of your sakes.

One day, while he was in line at the coffee shop, Jack heard a familiar laugh. His heart skipped a beat, and he spun around, only to see you with an unfamiliar man, smiling and chatting away. The sight of you with someone else was like a knife to the chest. He quickly averted his gaze, pretending not to notice, but the pain was acute. He realized he hadn't seen you in person since that rainy night you left.

Jack's hand trembled as he took the coffee the barista handed him. He stepped aside, watching you from a distance, feeling like an outsider in a scene that used to be so intimately his. The stranger put his arm around your shoulders, and Jack felt a surge of jealousy that surprised him. He had known you needed more, but seeing it with his own eyes was a different story.

But you didn't miss the way Jack's eyes lingered on you, the desperation in his gaze. You felt a pang of guilt, but you steeled yourself. You had moved on, hadn't you?

You couldn't deny it, your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. You wanted to run into his arms and tell him you'd made a mistake, that you could work it out.

"You still have feelings for him, don't you?" You heard Alex whisper, a sad smile playing on his lips. You nodded, sipping your hot beverage.

"It's hard not to, but…I've moved on," you replied, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else.

"Have you though? Really moved on?" Alex's question lingered in the air, his gaze holding yours as you took another sip of your beverage. You swallowed hard, the warm liquid doing little to soothe the sudden tightness in your throat. "It's okay if you do," he added gently, "but maybe it's time to talk to him."

Jack watched you from across the street, his heart hammering in his chest. He had hoped that with time and distance, the pain would lessen, but seeing you with someone else brought it all rushing back. The months of training, the endless matches, none of it had filled the void you left behind. He knew he needed to make a change, to find a way to balance his love for the game with the love he had for you.

With a newfound resolve, Jack approached you, his sneakers squeaking on the damp pavement. You turned, surprise flickering in your eyes before they clouded over with caution. Alex stepped aside, giving you space. "Can we talk?" Jack asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, leading the way to a nearby park bench. The rain had stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean, the scent of wet earth and leaves filling the space between you. You sat down, leaving a respectful distance, your eyes avoiding his. "What is there to say?" you began, your voice tight with unshed tears.

Jack took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I've been thinking about us," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you weren't a priority."

You remained silent, watching the children playing in the distance, the sound of their laughter a stark contrast to the heaviness of the conversation. "It's more than that, Jack," you said finally, your voice steady. "It's about feeling seen, heard, and valued. It's about being a team, not just having someone to come home to when you're done with your day."

Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I get it," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I've been so focused on my career, I lost sight of what's truly important. I want to change that. I want to be better for you."

You studied him, looking for the truth in his words. The old Jack, the one who used to make you feel like the center of his world, seemed to be peeking out from behind the tired, burdened exterior. "What does that mean, exactly?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism.

Jack took a deep breath, bracing himself for the hardest conversation of his life. "It means that I'll make time for us, really make time," he began. "I'll schedule breaks in my training, show up for dinner without my phone, and actually listen when you talk about your day." His voice grew stronger as he spoke, the conviction in his eyes growing brighter. "I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

You felt a flicker of hope, but it was quickly doused by the memory of his past promises. "Words are easy, Jack," you said, your tone measured. "It's the actions that count."

Jack's expression grew serious, the lines around his eyes deepening as he nodded. "You're right. I know I've said a lot of things I didn't follow through on, but I'm different now." He paused, searching for the right words. "I've missed you. I've missed us. I can't stand the thought of losing you for good."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Jack, I want to believe you," you said, your voice wavering. "But I've been here before. How do I know this isn't just another fleeting moment of clarity before you're off to the next match?"

Jack reached out and took your hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Because I'm going to prove it to you," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to show you that you're not just a part of my life, you're the most important part. And if that means taking a step back from tennis, then that's what I'll do."

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit or doubt. But all you saw was sincerity and pain. "I don't want you to give up your dreams," you whispered. "But I need to know you're willing to make me a part of them."

Jack nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said. "And I'm not asking you to come back right now. I just… I want you to know that I'm willing to make changes. To make us work."

You felt the warmth of his hand, the familiarity of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You had missed this connection, but the fear of history repeating itself was stronger.

"Jack," you began, your voice shaky, "I want to believe you. I really do. But I've been hurt too many times. I can't just jump back in without knowing it's for real."

Jack's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand in a comforting gesture. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "And I don't expect you to. I just need you to know that I'm ready to fight for us. To make this right."

You sighed, the weight of your decision pressing down on your chest like a boulder. "Okay," you finally said, your voice barely audible. "Let's take it slow. No promises, just…see where it goes."

Jack's face lit up with hope, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can do that," he said, squeezing your hand. "We'll take it one day at a time."

The days turned into weeks, and Jack kept his promise. He made an effort to be present, to listen, to be there for you without the distraction of his phone or his thoughts of the next match. He started to include you in his training sessions, even asking for your advice on his game. It was a tentative dance, both of you testing the waters, feeling for the old rhythm that had been lost.

You found yourself slowly letting your guard down, the warmth of his attention thawing the icy walls around your heart. But the fear remained, a persistent shadow that followed you, whispering doubt into your ear every time he had to leave for a tournament.

One evening, as you watched him pack his bag, the memories of the past filled the room—his hasty goodbyes, the forgotten anniversaries, the missed phone calls. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. "Jack," you said, your voice wavering, "are you sure this is what you want? That you can handle it?"

Jack looked up from his suitcase, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce determination. "I've never been more sure of anything," he replied, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "I love you, and I'm going to prove it every single day." He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe him.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of improvement. Jack's dedication to the relationship was evident, and his performance on the court reflected the newfound balance in his life. The press took notice, praising his renewed focus and maturity. His wins started piling up, and the whispers of a potential comeback grew louder.

But it wasn't just his game that had changed; it was Jack himself. He had become more thoughtful, more attentive. He'd surprise you with flowers, leave sweet notes around the apartment, and ask about your day with genuine interest. He was the partner you had always wanted him to be, and you felt yourself falling back in love with him.

Yet, the doubt remained, a quiet thief in the night that stole moments of happiness. You would catch yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the day when he'd slip back into his old ways. Each time he picked up his phone to check his schedule, you'd hold your breath, waiting for the apology that usually followed.

But the apologies didn't come. Instead, Jack made plans with you, around you. He talked about the future with a warmth that had been absent for so long, his eyes lighting up when he spoke of trips you could take together, the life you could build outside of tennis. It was as if he had finally realized that there was more to life than the scoreboard.

One rainy afternoon, you found yourself nestled in his arms, watching a movie you'd both seen a hundred times before. His fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, and you felt a sense of peace that had been elusive for months. As the credits rolled, Jack leaned in and kissed you softly, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

"I'm going to miss you," you whispered, as the reality of his upcoming tournament loomed.

Jack pulled you closer, his arms a warm cocoon. "I'll miss you too," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, I'll make it up to you when I get back."

The days leading up to the tournament were filled with sweet gestures and stolen moments of intimacy. Jack took you on surprise dates, showered you with affection, and even cooked for you, a rarity in your usually hectic lives. His dedication to making amends was palpable, and you found yourself feeling hopeful for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

#jack draper #jack draper imagine #jack draper imagines #jack draper fic #jack draper fics #jack draper x reader #tennis imagine #tennis imagines #tennis fic #tennis fics

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castingspellsanddaisies · 3 months ago

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Upcoming Readings:

Jude and St*rino the p*mp friendship? wft is that?

Hey Jude: are you into (hold on) giving/receiving pain, biting, slapping, spanking, degradation? (I can't believe I actually wrote this down here. Well, are you then?

The people demand: how's Aurelien Tchouameni during ''sexy time''?

Drew Starkey's personality Part 2 - here we go again

Sir Lewis Hamilton: what's your type? How do you act during ''sexy time'' and how are you as a boyfriend, Sir?

What's Juan Soto's real personality? How's he as a partner, how he acts during ''sexy time''? And how's his dynamic with his family?

Hey Jude: how you used to behave,concerning women, back in your Dortmund time? And around 2022? What was your reputation back then?

Jack Draper: his type in women and how he's in relationships

When could Jude meet his next love interest? (someone said ''could meet someone late autumn early winter and will fall head over hills in love with her. She also said that she sees a sudden marriage with them) - how likely is that to happen? Let's find out!

How Jude Bellingham handles/deals with jealousy and possessiveness in his relationship? (from both sides)

How'd Kylian Mbappé act in a marriage, as a husband? Does he want to be a father? If yes, how would he act?

What's Timothée Chalamet's general personality?

What's FT Island (kpop group)'s future after everything that happened?

Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey: what's their bond's future for 2025? They worked together in ''Fellow Travelers'', will they share another on screen partnership again? Matt Bomer is married to Simon Halls, how's their relationship in the present? And future predictions for the couple in 2025?

Do the members of BTS (kpop group) have anything to do with pro*titution, se*ual c*imes? Os something might have had happened in the past? We'll see

How will Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey feel when they meet each other again? Will Matt Bomer and Simon Halls get a divorce? How do Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey currently feel about each other? Is Matt Bomer ready to follow his heart? What's Matt Bomer decision about his marriage, and about Jonathan Bailey?

What's the general energy among the members of SKZ (kpop group)?

How's sexy time with Jake (Enhypen kpop group)? Is he any different when it's someone he has feelings for and when it's an one-night stand? What about aftercare? We'll see!

What's the current love life state of each member of SKZ (Stray Kids kpop group)? Which one's in love, in a relationship, just hooking up, single-single? We'll see them all!!

Joe Locke's career: What will be his next projects? Will we hear casting news about him soon?

Future predictions for the band SKZ's career!

Vinicius Jr + Eduardo Camavinga: what are their general personality and their type in women? Mmm

How's sexy time with... Jihyo (TWICE kpop group)? How's her with her boyfriend?

How's Lamine Yamal as a boyfriend in a romantic relationship?

How's sexy time with... Jay (ENHYPEN kpop group)?

How's sexy time with... Kylian Mbappé?

What's Jisoo (BLACKPINK kpop group)'s type?? (we're gonna do this in 2 parts: the type of partner that Jisoo wants + the type of partner that would match her perfectly).

Members of SKZ (kpop group): which one of them already fell in love? (you know, at least once?) Which one of them already dated someone? (you know, at least once?) Let's find out for each one of them!

Will Aespa release the second season of SMCU?

Why is Ningning (aespa) being mistreated by SM Entertainment? She doesn't have any solo schedules or even tiktok challenges? What happened?

Is there an idol (female or male) who is in love with Ningning? Is she dating anyone? If anyone finds out, will it become another Karina Jaewook dating scandal?

Will Ningning be forced to interact with male idol until the end of 2024?

How's sexy time with... Sunghoon (ENHYPEN kpop group)? What about his kinks?

Sunghoon from ENHYPEN (two in a row): what's his type and how's he as a boyfriend?

What really happened between Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg? What led to their irreparable broken friendship?

How's sexy time with... Heeseung (ENHYPEN kpop group)?

Sunghoon from ENHYPEN kpop group (I heard he's in high demand lately): what makes him feel attracted towards someone? How to get him hooked? (hehe)

Who's likely to be Charles Leclerc's future spouse? Let's find out

How's sexy time with... Drew Starkey? (here we go again) + How's aftercare with him? And how does he like to get ''in the mood''?

How's Sexy time with... Charles Leclerc?

Let's look into Lewis Hamilton and Juliana Nalú's relationship: Were they serious about each other? How they felt about each other while they were still together? Why did they break up? Was she after the media's attention, wanted to become a ''wag'' or what? (fun fact: originally this reading'd be about their current status, but they were faster than us and broke up first - oh well).

Let's deep dive into Kylian Mbappé and some girls he had been linked with in the past: bertr@m, lexi river@ (he used to like all of her pictures), georgi@ may heath, l@ra lourenco, emm@ smet.

Carlos Sainz and Rebecca Donaldson: will he end his relationship with her or not? What's going on?

Kylian Mbappé, would you drag a woman out for a 7 years relationship with no ring?

How's sexy times with... Nicholas (&TEAM kpop group)? What about aftercare?

What's Timothée Chalamet's type? How's he as a boyfriend? And how's sexy time with him???

The IT COUPLE of the moment Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce: where do their relationship stand at the present moment?

Who will likely be Jung Jaehyun's future spouse?

Lana Del Rey and her crocodile husband on their wedding day: how were they feeling about it?

How's Jude Bellingham's relationship with his mother, his father and his brother? How Jude feels about his friendship with Trent AA? How Judes truly feels about Kylian Mbappé? Do they like each other? Are they truly friends or not?

How's Lee Felix (SKZ kpop group) as a boyfriend? How'd he act dating a late bloomer?

What are Lee Felix (SKZ kpop group) green flags and red flags?

Could Sir Lewis Hamilton be bisexual?

How does Timothée Chalamet feel about his fan club, ''Club Chalamet'' and the owner of it?

What are Chris and Matt Sturniolos' type?

How's sexy time with... Arthur Fils?

Will Jude Bellingham stay in Real Madrid for a long time still or he may change clubs soon??? What's his future in England's National Team??

This question is for both Jude Bellingham and Kylian Mbappé: will they have many serious relationships before getting married?

How's sexy time with... Jack Draper? Also, what's his personality? Is he a romantic man?

Ben Shelton and Anna Hall's relationship: why did they break up? Do they still talk with each other? Do they still have emotions left and things unsaid for each other? How used to be thei relationships's dynamic? Ben follows a lot of bikini models and stuff on his IG, it’s a running joke that he’s probably a player, is that done out of spite? How does he feel about her current boyfriend? Ben also said in an interview he ghosts and “shoots his shot” a lot, is that actually true to him, or is that a front too? - LET'S FIND OUT!

Who'll likely be Charles Leclerc's future spouse? Who is she? Her character, job, look etc. How they going to meet and their first impressions about each other? What charles' friends (especially close ones) and his family (especially his brothers and mother) will think about her? How they will confess their feelings to each other? What are fans and society going to think about their relationship? Will the relationship be successful?

Neymar Jr: will he return to play in Europe? Is he planning on retiring soon? Will he retire soon? How's his current energy?

What's Lando Norris' general personality?

How's sexy time with... Sion (NCT WISH kpop group)?

How's sexy time with... Minho (STRAY KIDS kpop group)?

How's Aurelien Tchouameni as a partner? Current energy for his career? His current general energy?

Aurelien Tchouameni (hello again): did he cheat on his girlfriend? Will he be sold by Real Madrid to another team?

What's Jannik Sinner general personality? What's his relationship dynamic with girlfriend Anna Kalinskaya? Is she a gold digger?

How's carlos alcaraz as a boyfriend and his ideal partner?

Neymar Jr (here we're again): what's his relationship dynamic with Bruna? How does he feel about his daughter, Helena? Will he cheat on Bruna again? (if he isn't already doing that right now, I mean)

How's sexy time with... Jadon Sancho? What's his type?

How's sexy time with... Momo (TWICE kpop group)?

What's Jamal Musiala's type in girls? Who'll likely be his future spouse? Possibly how will they both meet? Timestamp of the meeting? How'll thei relationship be like?

How's sexy time with... Lee Felix (SKZ kpop group)? What about aftercare?

How's sexy time with... Jungkook? (BTS kpop group)

How's Kenan Yildiz as a boyfriend and what's his type?

How's the friendship among Jude, Camavinga, and Tchouaméni?

Max Verstappen: how's his relationship dynamic with his girlfriend, Kelly Piquet? How do they feel for each other? What's the future for their relationship? Do they want to get married and have kids? Did she cheat on him? + How's his relationship with his family? Does he prefer to spend time with his girlfriend's family? Why? Is his family just ''tolerating'' Kelly Piquet because Max is dating her?

Deep Dive into Kylian Mbappé and Emma Smet's relationship (or whatever it was that theu had): was it PR? How did they truly feel about each other? Did Kylian's mother like her? Why did they break up?

How's sexy time with... Intak (P1HARMONY kpop group)?

How's sexy time with...Sunwoo ( THE BOYZ kpop group)? Any specific kink that he has? What about aftercare?

Bad Bunny and Gabriela Berlingeri's relationship: Was it all PR or they started off genuine and had true feelings for each other? What was their relationship dynamic? How they feel about each other at the present? Will they ever come back together?

Does Jude Bellingham have a Madonna-Whore complex?

Toby Bishay: His friendship dynamic with Jude, is he genuinely friends with Jude Bellingham? Is it true Toby and Jude have threesomes, foursomes together?

Cristiano Ronaldo and Georgina Rodriguez: how do they feel about each other? How does Cristiano feel about Georgina posting videos twerking (to what people complian about it) and about her wearing really revealing clothes?

David and Victoria Beckham: Are they still together because they love and genuinely want to be with each other or for othe reasons? How do they feel about Cruz Beckham's girlfriend?

Jude Bellingham and his future wife: how will be their dating phase? (let's see what I can grasp from it)

SKZ (kpop group members): what's their type?, their general personality? (each one of them)

Chateau de Amerois: are the theories all true? Is this place truly evil? What's behind it?

SKZ (kpop group): what's their opinion on long-distance relationships? Would they do it? Have any on them done that already?

Michael Olise (FC Bayern Munich): his general personality + his energy

How's sexy time with... Son Heung-min? And what's his type?

How's sexy time with... J Cole?

How will Jude Bellingham's career evolve in football? Will he shine more in the future?

How's aftercare with the members of ENHYPEN (kpop group)? If they’re the type to talk and cuddle or bring their partner food and stuff

How's sexy time with... Soobin? (TXT kpop group)?

What's Alejandro balde’s type?

Azra Mian and Jude Bellingham: what happened between them? Why and how it ended?

Let's take a look at Jude Bellingham's future wife but at the present moment: Her current energy, who's she right now? How's she doing in her life? Does she know who ''Jude Bellingham'' is?

Does Jack Draper sleep around? Does he hook up with anyone or is he just super focusing on his career? Did he have something with kt lordahl?

Radu Dragusin: he rejected Bayern hoping to get more playing time at Tottenham, but BARELY getting any, was that his real motives? How's he feeling about that now? will he go on loan to Juventus like the media is saying?

Carlos Alcaraz's general personality + his red flags (does he have any? Let's find out!)

Jamal Musiala: his general personality, how's he as a friend (is his group friend lovely or toxic?), how's his love life at the moment, how's sexy time with him? How's he as a boyfriend? (his oficial biography is coming hahaha)

Jobe Bellingham (I heard people saying he's the best looking sibling, I don't know...): Who'll be his next girlfriend? Who'll be his next wife? Does he want to have kids?

Neymar Jr and Kylian Mbappé (help): Did they use to party hard together in Paris with e*corts and everything? Was Kylian's staff leaking news about Neymar's lifestyle to spare Kylian? Was neymar jealous of Kylian for him becoming ''the golden boy''? (the star of the team and not him). Kylian never unfollows his former team mates, why did he unfollow Neymar then? Why's Neymar constantly liking posts who shade Kylian? Was Kylian responsible for Neymar leaving PSG? Did Kylian want to be ''the owner'' of PSG (as a lot of people claim)? How are they feeling about each other at the present?

Jannik Sinner: What's his general personality and his type?

How's sexy time with... Ja Morant? What's his general personality? How's he as a boyfriend? How does he act with his partner in his relationship? What's his type?

How's Jadon Sancho as a boyfriend?

Austin Butler: his general personality, how's he as a boyfriends and how he acts in his relationships? How's sexy time with him? (hm?)

Son Heung-min: why is he hot and cold in his relationships? Has he has his heart broken and that's why he's more closed-off for relationships? Is he emotionally immature? Why he has this ''I will get married until I retire'' mentality?

Skz (kpop group): How each member see public dating, showing off their partners, posting pictures? How each of them feel about that?

Son Heung-min and Minah (from Girl's Day kpop group): How was their relationship dynamic? How did they view each other? Is Son waiting for ''the one'' to appear magically in front of him?

Is San (from Ateez kpop group) closed-off about having a serious relationship right now? Is he waiting for ''the one'' to appear out of nowhere to him? (you know, similar to Son Heung-min?)

How's Bangchan (Skz kpop group) as a husband?

How's sexy time with... Park Gunwook (Zerobaseone kpop group)?

How's sexy time with... Seongmin (One pact kpop group)?

How's after care with Ben Shelton? How his partners feel/felt after having s3x with him? Hm?

Jude Bellingham, Trent AA and Ben Shelton: how are they spending their money? On what they're spending their money on? How they view money/being rich?

Katseye (Pop group): what's their dynamic? How they feel about each other?

Trent AA: his biggest fantasy and bigges turn-on

Jobe Bellingham (hey baby): how's after care with him? Is he an independant person? His red flags, his green flags.

Do the members of SKZ (kpop group) have anything to do with pro*titution, se*ual c*imes? Os something might have had happened in the past?

How's sexy time with... Each member of SKZ (kpop group) and aftercare? - except Lee Felix, 'cause he already has a request about this :)

How's the dynamic between Bangchan and Lee Felix? How they view each other? Do they truly like each other? What they usually do when they're together?

Rudy Pankow and Madison Bailey: did they hook up? Did they have s*x? How they feel about each other now? How did they feel about each other in the past? Why did they fall out?

Stay tuned, folks!!! And keep these requests coming!!!

Thanks <3

#tarot reading #tarot asks

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bluespring864 · 7 months ago

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Jack Draper wins his first ATP title at the Stuttgart Open 2024

Bonus: he threw his sweatbands into the crowd in celebration - remind you of anyone? :)

#he did ittttt #jack draper #tennis #stuttgart open 2024 #and of course there's a little nod to andy how could it be otherwise

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fritzes · 4 months ago

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Assuming we get danya v jannik and jack v alex quarterfinals, what are your thoughts on those matches plus the semifinal?

sinner vs medvedev: I talked about this a bit here, but the fact that daniil has had such easy matches will make this better for him. that being said, he hasn't played anyone of jannik's caliber yet, especially on return. his serve has been shaky all year, and jannik is someone who can take advantage of it. now, we have to see how jannik plays today (if he wins) to know what kind of form he's gonna bring, but besides that bizarre first set in the opening round he's been really, really solid. he barely put a foot wrong in his last two matches and it really does seem like he's finding some of the form he had at the start of the year. if this match does happen, I think it'll be really interesting and pretty close

draper vs de minaur: jack has finally learned how to win a match in straight sets and that might be trouble for alex. I actually haven't watched a single match of either of them at this tournament, so I really couldn't tell you how they're playing. jack seems to be doing well and alex keeps having these weird scorelines filled with sets where he comes back from a break or two down. that could just be alex being alex, but I'm not sure how much his injury is still affecting him. like with jannik, if he wins his match today that'll tell us more

I really don't think I can predict what the semifinal matchup is gonna be, especially from the first quarterfinal. that being said, a de sinnaur slam semifinal would be the funniest thing ever, poor alex

#pre-match writeups #(maybe)#jannik and alex sorry if I jinxed you #asks

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wimbledonstrawberry · 1 month ago

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8, 11, 13!

8. biggest surprise (affectionate) from this season?

the entire of Jack Draper's year. he did FANTASTIC and I really REALLY look up to him. like yeah we were all like wow he is good but I never expected his USO run for example and it was one of the happiest most amazing runs this year.

11. most satisfying moment of the year.

Carlos' summer (RG + Wimby)

13. who's a name in your shitlist this year?

I don't really think I shitlisted anyone this year, I mean there is certainly some players that I really dislike but besides the ones that were already there I don't think I have one 🤔

thanks for the ask, this is so fun

#answered #andrey was shitlisted for like half a year

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alcqraz · 4 months ago

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I WILL ALSO WRITE FOR: Casper Ruud, Matteo Berrettini, Jack Draper, Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, Alex De Minaur, Taylor Fritz, Stefano Tsitsipas, Holger Rune... really anyone that's not problematic

★ drabbles ★ : ̗̀➛ none as of now

★ headcanons ★ : ̗̀➛ none as of now

★ one-shots ★ : ̗̀➛ none as of now

★ other ★ : ̗̀➛ none as of now

#william's masterlists #casper ruud #matteo berrettini #jack draper #atp tour #tennis #tennisblr

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nope-nora · 4 months ago

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I just realized…. does jack draper look like kj apa to anyone else

#jack draper #tennis #or is this another ‘casper ruud looks like niall horan’ for me

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nerdybirdboy · 1 year ago

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DOSSIER CHEAT SHEET

LEGAL NAME: Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne NICKNAME[S]: Tim, Timmy, Timtam, Timber, Timberlina (and a lot of other Tim-names), Robin, Red Robin, Mister Sarcastic, Alvin Draper. DATE OF BIRTH: 19 July GENDER: Male PLACE OF BIRTH: Gotham, NJ CURRENTLY LIVING: Gotham, NJ SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, ASL, Spanish, German, French, Russian, Cantonese and Swedish (yes, I added the last one since I speak it myself). EDUCATION: Some High School. HAIR COLOR: Black EYE COLOR: Dark blue HEIGHT: 139-160 cm (4′7″- 5′3″), 47-55 kg (103.6-121 lbs)

FAMILY INFORMATION

SIBLING[S]: Biological - none, adopted - Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne. PARENT[S]: Jack & Janet Drake (deceased), Dana Winters-Drake (stepmum, deceased), Bruce Wayne (adoptive father). RELATIVE[S]: None CHILDREN: None PET[S]: None

RELATIONSHIP INFORMATION

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual, panromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Verse dependent, but main partner is Emilio Rosali in most verses. SINCE WHEN: Since... some time ago?

Stolen from: @thefastestaround

Tagging: Anyone interested. Please tag me so I can read if you do this

#about tim #headcanon #partly at least

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clockwayswrites · 2 days ago

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A Hill To Die On

This is most of Chapter 1, cutting before the smut. IT DOES GET SPICY THOUGH. 🌶️⚠️ Some of this has been posted before, but figured I'd give you all one nice big chunk of it!

Tim brush his hand idly through his damp hair as he stepped out of the shower.

It had gotten long.

He hadn’t planned to grow it out, it just sort of happened. He’d gotten it cut last summer before he started his sophomore year of college. The start of the semester had bled into midterms. Midterms had proceeded papers and projects. Projects had become final presentations and exams. Classes ended abruptly into a too short winter break of Tim visiting Cass and her team then dragging her home for Christmas. The New Year had been filled with Titans and teammates and fireworks.

He might cut it when it started getting to muggy. Spring had barely broken into the city. It was warm enough not to need heavy coat but cool enough Tim could still wear his favorite leather jacket he’d stolen from Jason. It was a good time of the year.

His hair really had gotten long.

As long as the wig Tim wore when he became Caroline. He tugged at the ends of the hair where, if he tilted his head down to look up under his lashes, the black strands brushed the top of his shoulders.

Tim hadn’t been Caroline Hill in a long time now.

Or Alvin Draper.

Or Timothy Drake— CEO to be.

He hadn’t been anyone, really. Instead he had been struggling to find out who Tim Wayne was beyond the expectations of dead parents, missions hidden behind masks, and under the weight everyone else’s needs.

He still really didn’t know.

It felt more like a game of finding out what he wasn’t than falling into what he was. Or what he liked to be.

He could be a ruthless businessman, but that was Timothy Drake, wasn’t it? That was his father’s Jack’s legacy and Janet’s cold, confident smile. He didn’t like being that.

He didn’t like being them.

He could be whatever the mission needed. He could do recon, hacking, infiltration, fighting—a replacement, like Jason said. The word didn’t have the same sting that it used to. Replacement. It was almost a word of respect now. It had taken a lot of talking (and a lot of alcohol) for Jason and Tim to get somewhere good, but they both got it now. Red Robin was whoever the team needed.

He was tired of having to fill in cracks.

He beyond tired of just existing for everyone else’s needs.

The weight of that had nearly broken him.

Had broken him.

Tim watched the black strands of hair slip over the spider web of scars on his left hand.

Bruce had assured him that there would always be a place with the Bats if Tim still wanted it. Tim didn’t know if he would. Tim refused to just fill in the space that was left open anymore. It took a lot of sessions with his Justice League approved therapist for Tim to even get to that line in the sand, but he understood how important it was now.

He had to stop being the replacement. The other Robin. The other son.

It was a problem.

Another problem was, he didn’t always think he was Tim Wayne, even with the pieces that he was slowly learning.

Tim dug around under his sink, coming up with the purple case he’d stolen from Steph to keep Caroline’s things in. The robin red lipstick was on the top. Slowly he uncapped it and smeared it almost recklessly across his lips.

Tim no longer stared back out from the mirror.

Maybe Caroline deserved a night out.

It had been a long time, after all.

Clothing was an issue.

Tim had grown. Not much mind, but enough that the shoulders were a little tight and bottoms a little short. Well, the bottoms weren’t a huge matter in that moment. Caroline wanted to go out to a club after all; they could work with a too short skirt. The top though… Caroline adjusted the black strap of the lacy bra. Even with the right padding in, it still didn’t look right.

She chewed on her lower lip, still messily smeared with bright red, as she held another top up against her chest. That wouldn’t do either. Caroline gave the box of old clothing a little kick. Hum. She should paint her toenails.

Focus, Caroline.

It was time to look outside of her box.

Fifteen minutes and a pair of scissors later and one of Alvin’s too large and nondescript red t-shirts had become a drop shoulder crop top. It wasn’t the most amazing fit, but as she dressed it up with the right necklace looped a few times around her throat, a splash of red and leather in the bracelets (cover the scars, they were identifying marks), she figured she could pull off the look—at least for getting sweaty in some dark club.

Ever grateful for quick drying polish, Caroline did a rush job of all her nails and waved them impatiently dry before she did her make up properly. Some contouring, false lashes, the right highlights, step by step Caroline felt herself come alive again until staring back from there mirror was no Tim or Timothy or Alvin—just her.

Just Caroline.

She let out the breath she had been holding.

Finding the right club took a little bit. Her old favorite had shut down, apparently. That wasn’t uncommon with the short lifespan of clubs and even less so in Gotham with the money laundering and drug rings that often went with the clubs, but it still sucked. Caroline wanted somewhere that if someone got very handsy on the dance floor there wouldn’t be issue with everything that was carefully and securely tucked away in her underwear. The person might not want all that, which was perfectly fine as long they parted ways amicably.

(And if not, well, one of her bracelets could be shockingly persuasive.)

She tucked her fake ID back away in the hidden pocket of her bra, not minding the bit of a show it gave. Tim would have to make her a new one; she didn’t needed the fake age anymore. Then, with a steadying breath, she entered the thudding music, bright lights, and throng of bodies of the club. It took a moment to adjust to it all. This wasn’t always Caroline’s favorite thing, but they needed to relax already. Any tenser and something was going to snap.

Besides, this is where the boys failed and Caroline thrived; slipping between bodies, flirting, giving enough to capture attention without actually giving anything away. Dealing with a mass of people was a complex game of chess and Caroline very much intended to be the conquering queen.

The bar was the first stop, ordering a fruity martini so that she could sip at the drink and people watch for a time. It was always good to get a feel for things before diving in. It also gave her time to get used to being her again as she fielded a few flirtatious advances which landed her another drink in turn for the first dance of the night with her. She didn’t linger long.

She wasn’t sure what she was in the mood for. Caroline flitted across the dance floor from partner to partner, just letting herself enjoy the thud of the beat and the press of bodies. She always moved on before people could get too invested (or too handsy).

Caroline was on the edge of the floor, slipping away from one dance and looking for the next when a laughing group at a close by table shoved one of their number her way. She took a tentative step back, but didn’t actually need to. The poor sacrificial lamb found his footing rather gracefully.

He ducked his head with a crooked smile that was actually somehow charming. “Sorry about them.”

“Stay on target, Danny!” someone called from the table to cheers and jeers.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Really sorry. Just, ah, I maybe have been talking about how pretty you are and how much I want to dance with you for, like, the last twenty minutes. Feel free to tell me to fuck off if this is rude, but would you like to dance?”

Caroline tilted her head and tried not to smile in too predatory a way. “You’ve been watching me?”

“It’s hard not to, with how you move.”

She laughed at that. This one was so earnest. That was odd for Gotham.

“Once dance,” Caroline said, holding out a hand. “Unless you have the moves and then maybe you’ll get more.”

Danny took the hand and brushed a kiss against it. “One dance, to start.”

Despite any doubts that Caroline might have had, Danny knew how to move. She’d lost count of the song they had danced to about the time that Danny’s hand had first slid up her shirt. She rolled her hips, grinding back against Danny’s tight jeans and growing arousal. Danny followed her lead beautifully.

His teeth scrapped lightly against her neck and she threw back her head for him, letting him suck a mark into her skin. She enjoyed the thought of Tim being stuck with a reminder of her night out. (Maybe it would convince him to have some fun of his own.)

Danny’s hand slid down from where it had been cupping a breast, traced over her stomach, and moved to her skirt. Caroline caught it before Danny could do more than slip a few fingertips past the band.

“Sorry,” he murmured into her ear.

“Not that,” Caroline said. She turned her head to press a kiss against the corner of Danny’s mouth, smearing robin red against his tan skin. “Just need to let you know there’s more down there than you might be expecting.”

She held her breath as tightly as she held Danny’s hand. It this went bad, she wanted to be able to act quickly.

Danny’s huff of air sounded amused.

She relaxed her grip slightly.

The hand slipped a little lower.

“To me, any combination of bits is a good combination. I’m up for all sorts of surprises,” Danny assured her. His fingers ran over just the top edge of her underwear, not really touching anything, but applying just enough pressure that she shuddered. “She’ okay to use?”

“Yes. She, her, Caroline.”

“Caroline.” Danny said her name like it was a prayer.

She guided his hand a little lower.

His touch stayed almost teasing and Caroline had to alternate between pressing forward into his hand and grinding backwards against him until Danny pulled them so close together that she could barely move. And fuck, it had been too long for any of them. She half thought that if she put in the effort, or Danny’s hand dipped any lower, that she could manage to come right there on the dance floor.

That was not how she wanted tonight to go.

She ran her hands through Danny’s hair and tilted his head where she wanted it. So that she could nip at his ear lobe. “Tell me you live close.”

“In walking distance.”

#dp x dc #Tim/Danny #brain dead ship #dead tired ship #a hill to die on

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