#and I didn’t want to colour them in fully so now they just look like that

[lunaroseblake]

Adrenaline - Chapter 9 'Relief'

Summary: Zayne is trying to cope and you're finally awake.

I hope you've all got your tissues ready for this one!

It had been two days since your operation, well technically three if you counted today but it had been the longest few days that Zayne had ever known. He hadn’t gone home just incase something happened to you, thinking that at least if he was at the hospital then he could help if the need came about. He’d slept in his office, though what little sleep he did manage to get was plagued with nightmares causing slight dark circles to form beneath his eyes. The staff areas were equipped with showers at least and he did have a couple changes of clothes in his office for incidents such as this one, plus the cafeteria did offer a range of decent meals, so he didn’t really see the point of going home for now, only wanting to stay by your side and make sure that you were safe.

When your friends had visited however, he had stepped aside and left them their own privacy with you, also apologising to Rafayel and Xavier for how he’d been after your surgery and formally introducing himself, even if they already knew who he was. They’d taken it all in stride, deciding to not hold anything against him as they could only imagine what he’d been through whilst operating on you. Every visitor that had come had brought you get well gifts and flowers, Rafayels bouquet being the most extravagant of them all but as they weren’t allowed in the ICU, Zayne had placed them all in his office and tended to them until they would be able to go with you in to your own room when you were moved out of intensive care.

You’d been kept fully sedated for the first day to allow your body to come to terms with all of the trauma it had sustained before staff began to lower the dosages, leaving you on the painkillers and letting your body decide when it was going to wake you up, all under the watchful eye of Zayne. He’d fully expected you to stay on the ventilator for a few more days but you continued to exceed his expectations when earlier that morning it was deemed your lungs were working well enough for you to try and breathe on your own. He’d been with you when it happened and you would need to be closely monitored but as he had no plans whatsoever for the rest of the day he was more than happy to sit by your side as he took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Your skin still felt a little cooler than normal but it was to be expected since as you weren’t moving around “I’m here.” He said softly, giving your vitals a quick check over and listening to the sound of your slow but steady breaths.

Heeding Greysons advice he had decided to take some time off, taking a step away from doing any surgery as he knew he wasn’t in the best frame of mind for that and wouldn’t be for a little while. He still did some paperwork and answered emails however, but the more hands on side he left down to Greyson, needing some time to properly process what he’d been through. Getting himself more comfortable he placed a book on to his lap with his hand that wasn’t holding yours and flicked through the pages until he got to his marker. He only managed to read a few pages before a notification dinged on his phone, a reminder. With everything that had happened, he had completely forgotten that he’d managed to get a booking for a restaurant you’d been dying to go to, the wait time for a free space being over a month. He was going to surprise you with it, a nice romantic candlelit dinner which may or may not lead to more afterwards.

He gave a light sigh as he closed his book, turning to look at your still form, the bruising you had was more prominent now, the days having let the full colours of blue and purple bloom across your skin“Y/N, will you do me a favour? “ His voice was quiet “I need you to wake up…” He knew it was going to take time but he wanted more than anything to see your eyes open, his heart felt like it was in a vice at not being able to do anymore for you at the moment and he hated that fact. He would only feel relief when he knew you were awake “Please wake up Y/N…” He pleaded almost imperceptibly. He knew that there was a possibility you may have some brain damage after being without oxygen for a short while when clinically dead, but the scans so far were hopeful.

He absentmindedly rubbed small circles on the top of your hand with his thumb, his anxiety of questioning his own actions beginning to creep back in to him, questioning himself as to whether he’d done absolutely everything he could to help you. He felt the overwhelming sadness run through him once more and he had a hard time fighting to keep his tears at bay. He didn’t think he’d ever cried so much in his life as he had in these past few days, it just made it that much clearer to him the depth of the feelings he held for you “Wake up… Please wake up soon Y/N…” It was silent for a short while as he managed to calm himself back down, though he never let go of your hand, needing to know you were there, a lifeline he was clinging on to.

“Z… Zayne?” It had been so quiet, your voice weak enough that he almost put it down to his imagination before he felt the smallest twitch of your fingers against his hand and he felt his heart falter slightly when he glanced towards your face and saw that your eyes were open. “Y/N?” He almost didn’t believe it, that you were awake before him, he’d stood before he even knew it sending the book he’d been reading flying across the floor as he kept ahold of your hand and he nearly couldn’t contain the flood of relief that went through him as he smiled. Your eyes were still slightly glazed over in confusion as they tried to focus on his face “I’m here Y/N, I’m here.” He gently stroked your cheek as he watched your eyes become clearer.

You felt like you hadn’t had a drink in an eternity, your mouth and throat drier than a desert as you focused on the man in front of you “You’re crying…” You croaked out and Zayne laughed, even though you were still coming to terms with everything that was going on, a dim thought in your mind told you that it was one of the most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard. “Because I’m happy, I’m so so happy you’re awake Y/N” He leaned over, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead and you saw the way his shoulders shook slightly as more tears rolled down his cheeks “Zayne, it’s okay…” You wanted to sound comforting, but your throat was that dry it was more a breathless, scratchy, crackle of a sound. You began to move your arm that wasn’t currently being held hostage by Zaynes hand but frowned when you found some restraint.

Glancing down you saw your arm in a sling, confusion only settling in further “What happened?” You were trying to desperately clear the cobwebs from your mind away as you turned your head to Zayne who had taken his seat once more and was pouring out a glass of water. He hesitated before speaking “What’s the last thing that you can remember?” You closed your eyes trying to sort through the hazy images that were flickering in and out of your grasp “I was… With Xavier, we… I had pancakes?” It was so hard to remember, everything was a blur and it was draining what little energy you had.

A glass of water was held out in front of your lips “Here, small sips only” He tilted the cup enough that you were able to take little sips of the water, watching to make sure you didn’t take too much. The relief was immediate, the cool water soothing your dry throat and you could have easily downed the whole glass if it weren’t for Zayne restricting your intake. Placing the glass down he waited patiently to see if there was anything else you could recall.

As your mind ever so slowly cleared, memories were getting easier to grasp on to “We went to find where the metaflux fluctuations were coming from and then…” Something shiny reflected in the corner of your eyesight and it was like putting the last puzzle piece in to place. With a click, everything came flooding back. The attack, Rafayel, the wanderer, blood, so much blood, people shouting, alarms blaring and the sound of your heart stopping. Everything was coming back thick and fast and you began to hyperventilate so much so that the monitor next to you burst in to a barrage of alarms, it hadn’t been a nightmare, it had all been very very real “Y/N! Y/N calm down, you’re okay, everything is okay, look at me, you’re safe okay? You’re safe” He soothed you gently, having quickly moved so he could take your face between his hands, getting you to look at him as he began to take deep breaths getting you to copy him doing so. “Deep breaths, you’re alright, I’m here, everything’s okay.”

A nurse had hurried over hearing the alarms but Zayne didn’t pay any attention to her, solely fixed on you and trying to calm your breathing. It took a few seconds for you to get yourself breathing steadily again, though your chest was pounding, your fragile heart hammering against broken ribs making you wince “It… Hurts…” You managed out through breathless pants and Zayne gave a nod to the nurse who went to fetch some more painkillers. “I know snowflake, I know, keep breathing slowly for me” He gently placed his hand over where the incision on your chest was, letting his cool touch soothe the wounds beneath. You closed your eyes at the feeling, calming yourself down more until your heart rate returned to something resembling normal.

Zayne watched as the nurse came back and gave you more painkillers, making sure not to give you too much as he moved to take a seat again, gently taking your hand once more as he did so “You need to be careful Y/N, you’ve suffered a lot of damage and it’s going to take a while for you to recover” You breathed slowly, trying to take in what Zayne was saying but your mind was going back to the last thing you fully remembered, Rafayel telling you to look at the sunset with him and you thinking you wished Zayne were there with you before it had all gone dark. “I died…” It wasn’t a question but Zayne gave a solemn nod anyway. He squeezed your hand gently and hesitated before deciding to fill in the rest of the blanks for you “The trauma you sustained from being hit was immense Y/N” He blocked out the memories of seeing the awful state your chest had been in when you’d arrived here “Paramedics were able to resuscitate you before you were flown here, you needed blood transfusions after the amount you’d lost.” He made sure that you wanted him to continue and after a slight pause you nodded your head, you wanted to know what happened, needed to know.

“When you arrived your were still critical, your blood pressure was too low that we took you immediately to surgery” He had to remind himself that you were alive in front of him, that he wasn’t dreaming as the images of you being dead before him flashed to the forefront of his mind “You flatlined again on the operating table, I saw your heart stop Y/N… I thought I’d lost you…” You could see his eyes glisten with the threat of unspilt tears and it made your heart break to see him so upset and worked up. You managed to lift your hand enough to gently caress the side of his face and smiled at him “Zayne… I’m here aren’t I? You saved me” He turned his head slightly so he was able to press a kiss to your palm, keeping your hand held close to him as though he was afraid you were going to disappear.

You remained silent in each others company for a while, him not quite believing that you were finally awake, and seemingly fine enough that you were able to remember what happened, and you, feeling tired, sore and guilty that you had put Zayne through that experience before remembering something else, guilt slamming in to you some more “I’m sorry I missed our date…” You were slightly taken aback when Zayne laughed again and you made a silent promise to yourself that you would do whatever you could to keep him happy and smiling as he was now “Oh my little snowflake, you can miss a thousand dates if it means I get to see you alive and well everyday.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks at that, which only caused Zayne to smile more at seeing your blush before he leant forward towards you, the cool skin of his forehead gently touching yours.

You brought your hand up to his cheek again “I’m so sorry Zayne” And you meant it, sorry for missing your date, for not being strong enough to hold on, twice, for causing him all that pain and suffering. You felt his lips brush against yours “You have nothing to be sorry for” He whispered before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips “Though please… Don’t EVER let me see you like that again, I’m not sure I’d be able to handle it.” You kissed him again, a light peck before pulling away slightly “I’ll try not to Doctor, I wouldn’t say being like this is something I want to get used to” You teased lightly before frowning. Lifting your hand, you gently moved to trail your fingers along the dark circles beneath his eyes “When was that last time you slept?”

Zayne quirked his eyebrow at you “You’ve just had major heart surgery, were clinically dead and you’re worried about me?” You stayed silent, giving him a pointed look, waiting for him to answer and he sighed in slight exasperation. “Don’t worry about me Y/N, I’ve had less sleep when I was studying to become a doctor. What you need to focus on now is getting yourself better. Doctors orders.” You pouted slightly at that though you could feel the tiredness begin to take hold again. The pain medication had gradually begun kicking in, turning the pain in your chest in to a dull throb and making you drowsy.

Zayne saw how you were trying to fight off the way your eyelids were getting heavier as he moved his hand to gently stroke through your hair, knowing it made you sleepy when he did. He gently pressed a kiss to your forehead as he listened to your breathing slow from being relaxed as sleep began to claim you “Rest my love.” He murmured quietly, finally able to feel at peace knowing that you were going to be okay.

[maglorthecrab]

sillies!!

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Medical Emergency

Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.

Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact. 

It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse. 

Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along. 

So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused. 

He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room. 

“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”

He hadn’t even been told what had happened. 

Then he saw you. 

On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together. 

But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him. 

You looked…like you needed to be comforted. 

Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails. 

Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months. 

“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”

Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper. 

Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”

You just nodded. “Thanks.”

Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off. 

He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital. 

“This way.”

You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat. 

“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”

“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”

Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back. 

Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav. 

By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given. 

Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key. 

Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key. 

So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you. 

Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs. 

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

And you did. 

Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window. 

However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay. 

Then you reached for him. 

It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep. 

Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed. 

Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head. 

Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours? 

You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets. 

And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest. 

By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone. 

How could you not tell me you were dating someone?

We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in. 

Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?

Get better soon, honey xoxo

Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered. 

One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks. 

Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?

Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks. 

And you did feel better. 

The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so. 

Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again. 

So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy. 

Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours. 

Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home. 

It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack. 

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”

You nodded. “Did you cook?”

“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it. 

“Get off me, I’m fine.”

Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital. 

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup. 

“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”

You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”

“I made it.”

You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”

“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”

“So you did think about it.”

Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”

You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you. 

You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything. 

It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out. 

Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter. 

The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them. 

But Jake had. 

You took the top paper and looked it over. 

“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”. 

You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”

“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”

“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”

You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.

“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”

“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”

Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him. 

“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”

He let your words settle over him. 

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”

You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends. 

“I would have fought them on it but-”

“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”

You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone. 

“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”

“Jake-”

He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”

So you just nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. And eat up, too.”

You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”

“We do.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed. 

“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”

“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”

You laughed a little at that one. 

“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”

He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year. 

So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car. 

“Where are we going?”

He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did. 

But then you forced yourself back to reality. 

This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry. 

But he didn’t leave you. 

In fact, he was the only one to show up. 

And the first to stay. 

You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you. 

“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”

He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”

“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”

It was a five minute walk to the bottom. 

“Is it usually this empty?”

He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Huh.”

“What?” Jake asked, looking at you. 

You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”

“Well…I’m not.” 

You looked at him. 

“To most people.”

It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade. 

His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime. 

 For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him. 

“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”

“And you don’t believe me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”

You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Y/n.”

You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body. 

“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”

Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him. 

“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”

Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him. 

And what did he mean by again?

You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him. 

You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out. 

Worst of all, he caught you. 

You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest. 

“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”

“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out. 

But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“But what about our stuff?”

“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”

Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand. 

And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun. 

You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer. 

Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax. 

So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun. 

And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too. 

“Come and look at this.”

Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him. 

Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Can you stand?”

You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way. 

“What am I looking at?”

It was a starfish. 

The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water. 

By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport. 

A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them. 

“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”

“Are you saying…you…like me?”

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”

“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”

“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him. 

Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”

You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”

It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman. 

They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling. 

“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”

Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”

Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake. 

“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”

Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”

Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”

Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”

“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”

“Love is blind, as they say.”

For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart. 

And then they watched as you walked home. 

Together. 

It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other. 

Verbally or otherwise. 

“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”

“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”

“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”

“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”

You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”

“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”

“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”

He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”

Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”

“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”

“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”

You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”

He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Sweetheart.”

He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home. 

The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch. 

Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends. 

Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said. 

However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating. 

Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?

It couldn’t be…could it?

And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school. 

It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not. 

Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off. 

Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it. 

Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks. 

It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner. 

Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work. 

Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it. 

Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class. 

“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?” 

Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door. 

“You okay?”

You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”

As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number. 

“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”

“Jake.”

“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”

“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”

Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”

“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”

You didn’t answer. 

“Y/n.”

“I’m here.”

Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Does anyone else know you’re there?”

You explained what happened as best as you could. 

“Just, please get here soon?”

“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”

You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake. 

Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall. 

He stepped inside before crouching down. 

“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”

Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”

“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”

You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”

Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up. 

“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”

You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly. 

Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse. 

By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you. 

“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”

Oh shit. 

“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”

“We’re- We’re not together.”

A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people. 

By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress. 

Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck. 

It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own. 

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”

You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”

“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”

You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”

“I’ll stay.”

“A-are you…sure?”

Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”

You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”

You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”

It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year. 

Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him. 

So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up. 

Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep. 

Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom. 

Then he heard you. 

From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you. 

“Hey, everything-”

“Can I stay with you?”

Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”

Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side. 

Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him. 

“Is this okay?”

He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed. 

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”

Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other. 

“Good.”

Not too long after that, you both fell asleep. 

And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move. 

If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning. 

And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him. 

“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you…like me.”

Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”

“Jake.”

Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it. 

“Yes.”

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”

He seemed nervous. 

“Can I kiss you?”

If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl. 

But no. 

He asked. 

And something in your gut jumped. 

So you answered; “Yes.”

Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life. 

You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together. 

Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight. 

No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said. 

Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm. 

“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work. 

“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”

Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm. 

“I’ll meet you here, after work?”

That made you smile. “Okay.”

Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed. 

“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”

With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle. 

“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”

One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him. 

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags. 

He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head. 

“See you tonight?”

“See you tonight.”

The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you. 

And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

You smiled. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You’re back.”

You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”

“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”

He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”

“I know, but I needed the distraction.”

Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day. 

“Distraction from what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Nothing, huh?”

At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck. 

“Jake.”

The way you said his name went straight to his dick. 

As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”

Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him. 

“Have you been thinking about me?”

Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”

“Yes,” your voice came out breathy. 

“Is this okay?”

You nodded. 

“I need words, darlin’.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him. 

And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion. 

You didn’t hate him anymore. 

You hadn’t hated him for a long time. 

All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo- 

The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for. 

And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t. 

Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you. 

And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long. 

By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. 

Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest. 

“Good morning.”

“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”

“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”

With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off. 

“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”

He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”

Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite. 

“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”

“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck. 

Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so. 

You laughed. “No it’s not.”

He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”

“How do you know this is yours?”

With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”

Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie. 

A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before. 

J.H.S

“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”

And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”

“Jake…”

“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”

“I want to date you.”

He looked up at you. 

“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”

“I want you around, too.”

“So, yes.”

Jake smiled. “Yes?”

You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”

Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. 

It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked. 

And lost a lot of money. 

But Penny won it all. 

She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.

[giannaln4]

Lucky Bracelet

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Making friendship bracelets was one of your favourite things to keep you entertained during race weeks, and you just had to make a special one for your boyfriend.  (1.5k words)

warnings: fluff, established relationship, a couple sexual innuendos

a/n: guys look at me! two posts in one week? crazy. i'm honestly trying to clean up my inbox since i still have a few requests from before my break 😭 so if you sent one, i'm getting there, i promise! now, this is a little bit cheesy and there are a few weird time skips so I apologise for that, but i really hope you like it! pls let me know what you think 🫶🏻

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Being constantly surrounded by hundreds of people and the double amount of cameras was not something you liked, but it’s something you had to put up with given the amount of attention your boyfriend got; it was something you have learnt to deal with. Not that you were fully used to it now, but at least it didn’t make you as anxious as it used to when you first started dating.

At least now you found something that helped you get your mind off the intense atmosphere that surrounded you during race weeks: making friendship bracelets. You made a few when you went to see Taylor Swift in concert late last year, and it stuck with you since then.

You travelled with all the materials you needed: colourful beads and cotton threads, tape, scissors — the whole deal. It wasn’t like you made an insane amount of bracelets every time you accompanied Lando to a race, but if you were bored or overwhelmed, you knew you had something to do.

Today was one of those days; Lando was specially busy today, and given your shy and quiet personality, you didn’t know that many people around, so you decided to lock yourself in Lando’s drivers room and get to it, carefully picking the letters and colours you would use.

Lando hated to leave you alone. He was aware of the many things he had to do, but he didn’t expect them to take that long, so as soon as he got a little bit of free time to catch lunch, he went looking for you. 

“Hey,” he greeted one of the mechanics. 

“Hi mate, how is it going?”

“All good, thanks. It’s a bit hot outside but still nice.”

“And yet, you are wearing a hoodie.” He teased him.

Lando let out a laugh, well aware of his reputation. "Well, I still have to keep it in style, don’t I?”

“You do, we know.”

“Anyway, have you seen Y/N?” 

“She must be in your room. I haven’t seen her since the two of you got here this morning.”

He smiled, knowing exactly what you were up to if you hadn’t left the small space all day. “Thanks.”

Lando made his way to his room, carefully knocking on the door before coming in. He didn’t want to scare you and make you drop all your beads, which has happened more times than he would like to admit.

“Come in,” he heard you yell from inside.

He opened the door and gave you the sweetest smile you have ever seen. “Hey, I’m back.”

“Hey, what took you so long?” You dropped everything you were doing to direct your attention at him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know we would have to be there all morning, but I’m back for lunch.”

“It’s okay, and thank God, I’m starving.” You took a piece of tape to hold your bracelet in place and started to get up.

“What are you making here?” He asked you as he got closer to the small table, analysing what you had on display as the bright-coloured beads caught his eye.

“No, it’s a surprise.” You responded, quickly hiding your unfinished creation with your hands. 

“A surprise you say?” He came behind you to wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your head. 

You melted into his embrace and hummed in response, using one of your bags to hide it instead so you could hug your boyfriend back. “You can’t see it until you win this race.”

“Mhm, I see. What if I don’t win? When do I get to see it?” He questioned, not wanting to jinx his weekend, but he was still curious. 

“The next race you win.” You said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Got it. In that case, I’m gonna have to win this race.” He grabbed your hips to turn you around, kissing you on the lips once you were facing him.

You went to eat your lunch together as you normally did, enjoying each other’s company as you talked about anything you could come up with. Before you knew it, he had to go back to his duties, and even though you tried hard to act normal about being left alone so he wouldn’t feel guilty, he still noticed. He knew you better than you knew yourself, anyway.

“You can come with me if you want, that way you don’t have to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. I know there are millions of people and cameras when you do these things."

He couldn’t help but feel guilty; he knew you were there to support him, so he hated to be apart from you when you did. “I’m sorry, love. I know you don’t feel comfortable when there are a lot of people around. You know you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, you could always stay home.”

“If you don’t want me to come, just say that,” you joked.

“No, it’s not that,” Lando replied immediately. “I do want you here, I always do, but I hate that you feel like you have to hide.”

“Lan, I’m not hiding. Sure, I do prefer to stay inside, but it’s not because I want to hide from the world. Besides, that’s why I always bring something to entertain myself with. I’ll be fine, I promise,” you reassure him.

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. “But if you want to go back to the hotel, that’s okay.”

The rest of the weekend went on a lot quicker, even though he was just as busy. Qualifying and race days were a lot less boring since you got to see the cars from the garage, enjoying the full wag experience. 

As the race went on, you couldn’t help but feel anxious and excited at the same time. Lando started from pole (which made you assure him the night before he would get to see the bracelet after the race), but you still had the need to crack your fingers every once in a while. There were only a few laps left, and he had led the entire race so far, and with the gap becoming bigger, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

Once he finally crossed that finish line with a 21-second margin, everyone in the garage cheered and jumped, celebrating Lando’s achievement. A lot of people gathered outside to see him get off the car and celebrate his third win himself, shouting his name and patting him in the helmet to congratulate him.

When it was time for the podium, you decided to go get the finished bracelet you kept in your purse and held it close to your heart, feeling extremely proud of Lando for the amazing race he just had. You couldn't stop the few tears that left your eyes; it made you so happy to see him accomplish his dreams. 

The whole thing was finally over, and you waited for him right there so you could finally express how proud of him you were. 

“Congrats, baby,” you said, hugging him as if you hadn’t seen him in months. “You did amazing.”

“Thank you.” Lando couldn’t erase the big smile off his face as he hugged you back. 

“That’s a cool trophy you got back there.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care about that.” He said, puling away and looking down at you. 

“You don’t?” You asked confused.

“No, I’m still waiting for my real reward.”

“Oh… we can go back to the hotel-”

“No!” He interrupted you, laughing loudly at the fact that your mind went there. “I mean my bracelet, didn’t you say I would get it if I won this race? Well, I did, and now I’m claiming it.”

You laughed, your cheeks burning a bit from embarrassment. “Right, uh- it’s not that great compared to your trophy.”

“I’m sure it’s better than any trophy I could ever get.”

Man, he really knew how to be the sweetest boyfriend in the entire world. You pulled the bracelet out of your pocket, hiding it in your fist before dropping it in his hands. 

The colours were the first thing that caught his attention. Fluoro green and black beads. He inspected these first, until he got to the little letters that read ‘MY WINNER’. He almost couldn’t contain his tears; he was so endeared by you and how much you supported his passion.

“I love it,” he whispered, lifting you up and kissing you emotionally before putting you back down and sliding the bracelet in his wrist, admiring the way it looked there. “Thank you.”

“See? I told you you would get to see it today.”

“It must be a lucky bracelet, then. I’m never taking it off.”

You giggled at this, loving how Lando reacted to the bracelet you made with much love, but you still thought he was just messing with you. “You must be tired.” You teased him.

“Mhm. Now, about my other reward-”

“Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes as you let out a loud laugh, holding his hand as you made your way to the car.

[w4ndal0ver]

The Art of Submission (4) [Edging]

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

chapter summary: The first session begins and Wanda tests how long she can keep you on edge, before seeing how many times you can cum for her.

whole summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: continuing the insane amount of sexual tension, edging, orgasm denial, begging, fingering (r receiving), cunnilingus (r receiving), strap on use (r receiving), spitting, spanking, restraints

note: So this is the fourth installment and finally we have some well earned smut. The way i'm seeing the chapters from now is a different kink or power dynamic, so if anyone wants anything in particular, just leave it in my asks and i can include it, enjoy <3

The Art of Submission - Chapter 4, Edging

Wanda stood before you, your eyes gleaming up at the redhead in nervous anticipation. Everything about this felt so uncontrollably vulnerable, her fully dressed figure making circles around your body dressed in scarlet lace. Her gentle hands kept brushing against your skin, taking her fingertips across the length of your collarbone, dragging them up along your neck, twirling itself in the strands of hair that hung from your bun. 

“You look so perfect,” she hums, her eyes drinking up the sigh of you, “Just sitting there, all mine.” Her glance notices the way your hands sit perfectly flat against your thighs, all she could think about was how you were perfectly written for her. No experience but knowing everything that she would want based on your writing. She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she continues to devour you with her stare.

Wanda glimpses at the untouched plates, then back at you with a sly grin. “Looks like dinner didn’t stand a chance, huh?” she murmurs, her fingers brushing against your waist. “Guess we got a little distracted.” Her eyes flick down to the table, then back up, dark and commanding. "Why don’t you clear the table, sweetheart? I need the space for something else."

Your hands tremble slightly as you begin stacking the plates, each movement deliberate, almost reverent under Wanda’s intense gaze. Her presence makes every action feel charged, like she’s watching your every move, waiting for you to finish. By the time the table is cleared, your pulse is racing, the weight of anticipation heavy in the air.

"Good girl," she murmurs. "Now, up you go.” You do as she says, immediately, not wanting any accusation of hesitation. She just watches you do exactly what she says, all she can think of is how willing your submission is, how corruptible you could be, your words holding every ounce of your experience. She couldn’t wait to watch you break as you realise the intensity of how the things you write about actually feel. “Spread out for me angel.” Wanda encourages, tapping your thighs as you are lying on your back, hands flush against your stomach. 

Wanda noticed your chest rising and falling, your eyes closed and head tilted back. “Colour honey.” 

“Green.” You say in a shaky rasp, and that same dangerous smile plastered itself over Wanda’s face, her fingers coming straight back to your thighs, tracing shapes against your skin, taking her time painfully slow. 

Wanda steps closer, her presence radiating authority as she leans over you, her gaze sharp and hungry. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “But I want to see every inch of you tremble at my touch.”

Her fingers trail deliberately along your collarbone, igniting every nerve in your body. She reaches up to the ties at the back of your neck, her movements purposeful and assured. “Let's get this off you.” she commands, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

She helps you sit up again, fingers brushing the back of your neck as she deftly unties the knot. “Lift your chin for me,” She instructs, her tone leaving no room for argument so you comply, feeling both exposed and electrified by her authority. 

With a practised motion, she pulls the bodysuit loose, the fabric clinging for a moment longer before it begins to fall away. She leans in closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You have no idea how fucking tempting you are,” she breathes, her eyes darkening with lust.

Wanda grips the bodysuit firmly, her fingers brushing your thighs as she pulls it down with tantalising slowness. “Let’s get rid of this completely,” she states, her voice laced with a sultry command.

With one decisive tug, she yanks the bodysuit down, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you entirely bare before her. “There we go,” she declares, her eyes roaming over your body with unabashed desire. “Now you’re exactly how I want you—completely vulnerable.” It was Wanda’s turn to be taken aback by the way your body looks completely undressed. 

Her eyes widen as she takes a moment to look at all of you, your body soft, curves accentuated under the warm glow of the light above you. A slow satisfied smile spreads across her lips and her fingers twitch with the urge to touch you. You feel the heat of her palm as it glides along your side, igniting your skin. “Look at you,” Her voice thick with admiration. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.” Her eyes dark with desire, a primal instinct seems to take over as she leans in closer, her face inches from yours. 

Wanda’s gaze roams up to your face, capturing the way your lips part slightly in anticipation. The contrast of your soft features against your bare skin captivates her, and she can't help but admire how your vulnerability fuels her own need.

“Every inch of you is perfect,” she breathes, her voice low and sultry. She reaches up, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, her fingers lingering on your cheek, as if tracing the outline of your features. As her hand slides down to your collarbone, her fingertips dance across your skin, exploring the delicate curves before moving lower, brushing teasingly against your breasts. Wanda’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, her expression of pure lust and delight as she takes in the sight of you, completely vulnerable and inviting. Your nipples immediately stand at the feeling of her nimble fingers grazing them softly. She pinches lightly at your painfully erect buds, making your back arch into her touch, a small panting moan escaping your lips before she lets go of you, a surge of fire shooting through your body as the blood is allowed to flow back to your nipples.

Her attention finally draws towards the pool of arousal that was building between your legs, your skin glistening, slick with desire. Wanda purposefully starts to circle the pad of her finger around your hardened nipple, smirking as she sees your wetness grow at just a few gentle touches. She had tried to drag this out for as long as she could, but the sight of your pussy aching, almost trembling, begging to be touched, she couldn’t help but gather your arousal with her finger. You immediately gasp at the contact, your lips turning in on themselves as you wait. 

She begins to do a similar motion that made you break so quickly last time, tapping the top of your clit in an attempt to make you more sensitive to her touch, making you wish she was drawing tight circles. This didn’t seem to matter, your hips immediately buckling upwards in a desperate attempt to gain some level of continuous pressure. 

“You’re already so sensitive honey,” She breathes, a grin tugging at her lips, “I like my pretty girls to stay still for me,” She states in a commanding purr, “Keep your legs open like this princess.” You nod immediately, doing anything to get her where you want her again.

Wanda reaches back over, watching the muscles in your legs quiver in an attempt to do as she asks. This time, the arousal she gathers is used to form slick circles against your clit, a gentle moan tumbling from your lips as you try desperately to keep your legs apart. The heat was building, your core beginning to weaken as Wanda continued the same pressure, same speed against you. 

“Please, Wanda, I need you inside of me.” You sputter, the motions against your clit reminding you of how empty you were. 

“So eager.” Wanda hums, her middle finger pulling away from your clit, curving around your folds and finding itself waiting at your entrance. She waited a few more seconds before slipping it slowly inside of you. It wasn’t a lot, but the weight it held on your desperate body was unlike anything. You let out a high pitched moan at the feeling of her inside of you, her finger gently thrusting into you, each pump and her finger curled up to meet your spot. 

“God you’re so tight for me.” Wanda exclaims, a deepened smirk on her redhead's face as her index finger works its way inside of you, finding the perfect rhythm and perfect pleasure. She can feel you beginning to tighten even more than before, so her other hand finds the same circular motion around your clit that makes you tremble. Your string of moans had become louder and your chest had begun to rise and fall faster. As your body tightens, on the brink of release, Wanda pulls her hand away. “Not yet princess, I think I need to stretch you out a little more first.” You immediately whimper in frustration, exactly what the redhead wanted from you. 

Without a word, Wanda left the room, leaving you with your legs spread, arousal leaking out of you, your core burning from being left on the edge. She re-emerges quite quickly and you tilt your head up to see what she has done. She was holding some rope and a wand, smaller than the usual type, the type that looked like it would be light enough to stay in place. 

“I need you to stay still for me like I asked you, pretty girl.” Wanda warned in response to your hips jolting upwards from the sight of Wanda’s new props. She ties the rope around your waist, looping it carefully around your thighs, securing the vibrator through the small opening that she’d created. 

She doesn’t turn it on immediately, just watching as your cheeks grow red at your new level of vulnerability. “Hands remain on the table.” She orders before immediately sliding her two fingers back inside of you, creating that same relentless rhythm, but this time you could feel the power she was putting in her wrist. Before you have a chance to react to her fingers, she switches the vibrator on to the lowest setting sending shockwaves through your body. Your body was tensing in an attempt to stay as still as you could, but the vibrations were intensifying everything and you could feel yourself getting closer again. 

She pulls out of you, turning the vibrator off just at the right time. She had become so fine tuned to your body already, noticing exactly when your growing orgasm was just reaching its peak. She didn’t say anything this time, just caressing your thighs and feeling the warmth radiating from every inch of bare skin on show to her. 

She barely gives you a chance to recover, switching on the vibrator to which you immediately gasp and whimper underneath her gaze. This time, she thrusts three fingers into you and you moan pornographically at the forceful stretch around her digits. Your thighs tremble, wanting to close, you move them just an inch but Wanda stops everything the moment you even dare to move them. 

Her fingers dig into your jaw, forcefully grabbing your face and turning it towards hers. “Don’t make me angry angel.” She warns, voice low, dark, laced with a stern desire. The desire in your eyes catching her off guard, she’d been so focused on your body that she’d forgotten your youthful innocence and the way you wanted to please her. She let go of your face, instead her hand wrapping firmly around your throat, squeezing the sides briefly as a distant reminder to stay with your legs openly spread. 

With your little slip up she removes the vibrator from its place, a small whine leaving your lips but you’re met with a squinted look and you immediately fall silent. She goes to untie the rope, but she decides to leave it, liking the way it makes you look. Her eyes were glimmering with satisfaction at the sight of your shaking body. She pulls you to the edge of the table by the underneath of your thighs, your skin fires beneath her hands. She begins to place gentle kisses against your legs, leaving trails of her beige lipstick, the once singular prints becoming a long stretch of paint up your thighs. She places an individual kiss against your clit, feeling your hips buckle upwards so she places her hand on your lower stomach, forcing you to stay still. She could tell you were going to need physical restraints in the future, your incessant squirming causing her issues. 

She starts gentle, her mouth finding your leaking arousal, slowly lapping at your soaked entrance before taking her tongue up the entire length of your slit, stopping just before your aching clit. She allows your clit to be taken between her lips, lightly sucking against your bud and you could barely hear yourself moaning with such passion in the heat of it all. She begins to flick her tongue back and forth over your clit, reaching her hand over to allow for her fingers to gather up some of your arousal as she feels your body begin to shake uncontrollably. Your body is hanging on the edge, doing everything you can to not push yourself over the edge. She places one final kiss against your entrance before coming up for a breath. 

“You’re doing so well for such an inexperienced whore.” She growls, her primal instincts taking over, all of your pretty sounds and pathetic squirming making it impossible for her to not allow you to cum over and over, screaming out your name in a gut wrenching attempt to keep ahold of yourself. Wanda moves around the table, allowing her fingers to graze your lips, slowly parting them. 

“Open your mouth,” she commands, her voice low and sultry, sending a thrill down your spine. You hesitate for a moment, the weight of her words settling over you. But the heat in her eyes encourages you to comply. You part your lips slowly, anticipation building as you lean closer, the space between you charged with electric tension.

With deliberate slowness, Wanda brings her fingers to your mouth, the tips glistening slightly as they hover before you. “Good girl. I want you to taste yourself,” she instructs, her tone firm yet inviting. You can’t help but shiver at the authority in her voice, the way it wraps around you like a warm embrace.

She presses her fingers past your lips, the soft warmth of her skin brushing against your tongue. “Just like that,” she murmurs, her breath hitching as you begin to suck gently, your eyes wide with a mix of desire and uncertainty. The taste of you is intoxicating, and as you swirl your tongue around her fingers, you can see the satisfaction blooming in her gaze.

“See how easy it is to submit tp what you want?” she teases, her voice thick with pleasure. Her fingers curl slightly, pressing deeper into your mouth, and you can feel the rush of heat flooding your cheeks. “You’re doing so well, but I need you to beg for it,” she urges, her voice a sultry whisper.

You can feel the tension coiling within you, the need for more bubbling to the surface. “Please, Wanda,” you manage to murmur around her fingers, desperation lacing your words. “I want more.”

A wicked smile spreads across her face, and she withdraws her fingers just enough to tease you, the loss of contact making you whine softly in protest. “I know you want more, baby. But I want you to really earn it. Keep sucking. Show me how much you crave it.”

With that, you dive back in, your lips working hungrily around her fingers, the sensation pushing you further into a state of bliss. Wanda watches you intently, her breath quickening as she revels in the sight of you completely lost in submission.

Suddenly, she thrusts her fingers deeper, the movement swift and demanding. You gag slightly, your throat tightening around her, and your eyes widen with surprise. “That’s it, just like that,” she encourages, her voice low and breathy. “Feel it. Let go of that hesitation.”

Each thrust is deliberate, her fingers stretching you, hitting the back of your throat. You can hear the wet sounds as you try to accommodate her, your body instinctively fighting to breathe. “Don’t pull away,” she instructs, her tone laced with both authority and encouragement. “You’re doing so well for me love. Just breathe through it.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to hold back the reflex to recoil, but the thrill of the moment and her praise spurs you on. You look up at her, desperation mixed with a newfound hunger reflected in your gaze. Wanda’s eyes darken with desire, and she leans closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I want to see you choke on my fingers like my pathetic little whore. Let me know how much you want it.”

You moan around her digits, the sound vibrating through your chest, a mix of pleasure and the instinctive urge to push her away. But you can’t. You won’t. All that matters is her, and the intoxicating thrill of submission that flows through you like fire burning straight to your core. The sound of you gagging around her fingers coated in your own arousal was making Wanda’s legs buckle slightly, but she wasn’t going to stop. Once she’d removed her fingers from your mouth, she spread your saliva over your lips and down your chin, letting you be painted in a mix of spit and arousal, your lips still parted, small pants escaping them. 

She went back to her original position, her shoulders budging between your thighs and instead of taking it slow, her tongue immediately attacked your already sensitive and burning clit. Wanda began to find those circles you loved so much with her tongue, hardening her muscle and getting you closer and closer to the edge, quicker and quicker than the times before. She switches out her tongue for her fingers, “You taste so sweet,” she purrs, a wicked grin on her lips, “And look at you, so pathetic and desperate for me.”

You groan, unable to form any words, your body unable to still itself, your back arching for me. So she dives back in, rough and intense, both her tongue and fingers getting you back to that same brink that you had become so familiar with. Just as you’re about to tip over, she pulls back again, a chuckle emitting from her lips in harmony with your desperate whimpers of pure frustration. 

“If you want it,” She teases, her voice dripping with cruelty as you hang on the edge, “You’ll have to beg.”

Wanda, please... touch me again,” you beg, the words spilling out in a breathless rush, the desperation had taken over any ounce of humiliation you feel at begging like this. “I can’t take it. I need your fingers inside me. I need to feel you just one more time, please!”

Wanda’s lips curl into a slow, deliberate smile, and she tilts her head, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Oh, sweetheart, you want me to touch you? You want to feel my fingers again?” She taunts, her tone sultry, each word dripping with seduction.

“Yes!” you cry out, your desperation rising. “I need it, Wanda! I’m so close, just a little more! I promise I’ll be your good little girl. I’ll do whatever you want, just please touch me again!” You arch your back slightly, instinctively trying to draw her closer, your body aching for her touch.

She leans in, her breath hot against your ear. “You want me to touch you? Beg for it like you mean it. Show me just how much you want it, you can do better than this.” she whispers, her voice a silky promise that sends shivers down your spine.

You swallow hard, your heart racing as you feel the weight of her words. “I need you, Wanda, I can't hold back anymore. I want to feel you again; I want your fingers working me up until I can’t take it anymore! I need you to make me feel good please let me come for you.” Your voice wavers, thick with urgency and need.

Wanda watches you intently, her eyes dark with desire. “That’s more like it,” she murmurs, clearly enjoying your pleas. Your body trembles with anticipation, the overwhelming need coursing through you, begging for her touch. You meet her gaze, your eyes wide and pleading, silently begging her to see just how desperate you are. “But don’t be so ungrateful.” Her voice snaps and she leans over again, her nails digging into your chin as she pushes your head up to meet hers. She prises your lips open between her fingers, slowly drawing a long line of spit from her mouth so it lands exactly onto your tongue. She forces your mouth shut. “Swallow it,” She commands, her eyes locked on yours, “Or I’ll leave you here aching for me.”

You comply happily, swallowing quickly, the taste of her sending another wave of arousal through you. She smirks, grabbing your hand and pressing it against her crotch. You breathe slowly, your eyes widening when you feel a hard bulge underneath her trousers. She was already wearing a strap, and she’d been wearing it the whole time. You swallow again, this time with nerves. She’d made you feel fucked out with just her fingers, her stamina relentless against your trembling body. “Just incase my poor baby became ungrateful and I had to fuck it out of her.” 

Your body responds instantly, arousal doubling between your legs. Wanda continues to tease you once more, she barely circled your clit for thirty seconds before you were at the edge again. Begging wasn’t an option anymore, it was a necessity. 

“Pleas-” 

Her eyes flash with a mix of desire and authority, but something shifts in her demeanour. Your pleading seems to reach a breaking point within her. In one swift motion, she grabs your waist, flipping you over onto the table with an ease that sends a thrill through you.

“Enough of this,” she says, her voice low and commanding. You feel the cool surface of the table against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your core. She unzips her trousers, pulling them down and stepping out of them, she was so deep in her own heat now that her grasps against her own trousers were the least controlled out of any. Wanda positions herself behind you, the unmistakable weight of her strap pressing against you, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips. “You need to learn to take what I give you and stop complaining.”

As she slides into you, it’s a seamless invasion, filling you completely. A deep, primal gasp escapes you, a mix of surprise and pleasure as you adjust to the sensation. Wanda holds your hips firm, her grip possessive and reassuring, making sure you’re wholly hers in this moment.

“Now, let’s see just how well you can handle this,” she breathes, her voice sultry and filled with authority. With that, she begins to move, her rhythm deliberate and punishing, igniting every nerve ending within you. “Look at how well you take me,” She pants, forcing your body to meet every hard and rough thrust that she piles into you, your body nothing more than a moaning desperate mess. “You’re made to take my cock, it fits you perfectly.”

Wanda continues to roughly thrust into you, but once she snakes her arm around your body, one hand begins to circle your clit, while the other grips the fistful of hair that you’d bundled atop of your head, pulling you body back to meet her movements. You know you’re dangerously close, but you didn’t want to beg again, you were just praying that she’d stop before you had no choice but to cum all over Wanda’s scarlet red cock. 

“Go ahead,” She says, and your eyes widen at the unexpected permission, “Cum for me, but If you do, I’m not stopping.”

Your body obeys instinctively, breaking under the relentless pressure as your climax crashes through you. You cum hard, your muscles clenching, back arching, but Wanda doesn’t relent. Her thrusts only quicken, her grip on your hips tightening with possessive intensity.

“Don’t think,” she growls low in your ear, her voice dripping with control. “Just keep cumming for me. I’ll do the thinking for you.”

The sharp sting of her palm lands on your ass, a slap that reverberates through you, sending a fresh wave of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine. The sensation tips you over the edge again, your body trembling as another orgasm builds impossibly fast, the intensity leaving you breathless and quaking beneath her. You’d never orgasmed twice in such a quick succession. “Mm, You can cum from just one spank, you’re so pathetic.” She spat at you, pulling out of you quickly, your cunt on fire with sensitivity. 

Wanda flips you onto your back with effortless strength, her movements controlled but purposeful. Her eyes lock on your flushed, tear-streaked face, and a wicked gleam flickers in her gaze. She leans over you, her lips hovering just above yours. “I want to see that pretty face when you break for me,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing gently across your smudged lipstick. Her touch is almost tender, a stark contrast to the intense control she exudes.

For a moment, her expression softens as she wipes the mascara-streaked tears from your cheeks, her fingers warm against your skin. It’s a fleeting tenderness that sends a wave of vulnerability through you. Then, without warning, she captures your lips in a heated kiss, her mouth hot and possessive against yours. Her breath mingles with yours as she whispers against your lips, “You’re perfect.”

Her words sink into you, a heady mix of praise and control. You shudder beneath her, the tenderness making you feel even more exposed. Her pace slows as she shifts between your legs, her fingers moving with calculated precision, circling your swollen clit. The sensation burns through you, rising in waves, her touch just enough to push you toward the edge but not enough to tip you over.

“You’re going to keep cumming for me, aren’t you?” she purrs, her voice sultry and commanding. Each word feels like a command you can't refuse, your body already responding to her every touch. “You want to impress me, don’t you?”

You nod desperately, the ache in your core unbearable, every nerve in your body on high alert. A small, satisfied grin tugs at the corner of Wanda’s mouth. “Then thank me. Every. Single. Time,” she orders, her fingers increasing their pressure, drawing tight circles against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

Your orgasm builds, sharp and unstoppable. When it crashes over you, your voice breaks as you gasp, “Thank you,” the words spilling from your lips in a hoarse whisper. Wanda’s eyes glint with satisfaction as she watches you unravel beneath her, but she doesn't stop. Her fingers continue to work you, expertly building you up again. Wanda’s grin grows wider, a mix of pride and control in her expression as she drinks in the sight of you coming apart under her touch.

“You’re doing so well,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with praise, her fingers never faltering. She watches every tremor in your body, every gasp that escapes your lips, her gaze filled with a deep, almost possessive satisfaction. “Keep cumming for me. I want you to give me everything.”

You nod frantically, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming intensity, knowing you’ll do anything to keep her pleased. Each time you shatter beneath her, you thank her, your voice growing weaker, more desperate, but Wanda's control over you only deepens, her satisfaction palpable with every broken plea that leaves your lips.

“Colour sweetheart?” She asks in response to your limp fucked out body, you could barely think straight, but you knew one thing, you didn’t want her to stop this ever. 

“Green, so green, oh my god.” Wanda loved the response, gripping your ass and pulling your body up to her face, now balancing your body on your elbows as she holds your pussy up to her mouth. Every single flick of her tongue, every suck that she makes against your clit between her lips was beginning to burn, your body unable to react to any contact anymore.

“It’s okay honey, just one more for me okay.” Wanda coos, feeling your trembling body underneath her harsh grip against your thighs, her nails still digging in, it would definitely leave a mark. “I just want to see you cum against my tongue like my dirty little slut one more time.” She’d become addicted to watching you cum, the way her name would tumble from your lips in a gut-wrenching plea for the session to be over. 

You give it to her, the time between your orgasms had gotten continually shorter, and now even though every part of your body was resisting the harsh swipes of her tongue against your clit, each swirl she took against your arousal, you could feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, not able to stop it even if you wanted to. 

When you came, you came hard, Wanda’s name escaping your lips in a scream as your body went into complete overdrive. You couldn’t stop the shaking and the squirming as you writhe around with the intense amount of pleasure that shot through your body. Finally, Wanda lets you come back down, your body trembling with exhaustion. Her touch turns soft, soothing, as she pulls you up into her arms, perching on the table in order to cradle your trembling figure. “Thank you.”

“You did so well for me,” She whispers, kissing your temple. Her fingers undo the bun that was already half out from all the manhandling. Now she can drag her nails through your hair as she holds you, grounding you back after the intensity of the session. She grabs you a blanket from the sofa behind her, wrapping you carefully up like her little present. “I’m so proud of you sweetheart,” She states with confidence, her cheeks glowing as she whispers endless praises into your ear. 

“That was incredible Wands, I really want to be yours, in any way that you want me.” You say honestly, your voice still wobbling as you warmed up under the blanket. “I never want to stop.”

“We don’t have to pretty girl, you will be mine for as long as you wish to be.” She says honestly, placing a kiss against your temple, “You’re proving to be an exemplary little one, hm.” You smile at her praise, snuggling your head into the crook of your neck while Wanda reaches for a glass of water for you. “Rest now baby, I’ll take care of everything.” 

She waits for you to be ready before getting up and setting some pillows down on the sofa for you to finally relax properly, which you immediately take her up on. She hovers around you, not knowing where your limits lie in terms of aftercare, not wanting to break any boundaries. 

“Are you joining me?” You ask innocently, opening up your arm and offering her a place to sit and cuddle into you. She looks hesitant at first, nervous about breaking any of her limits, but the way you’re sat huddled in a blanket, those innocent puppy dog eyes that she couldn’t resist. She sits down next to you, the sofa dipping at the weight and goes to put her arm around you. You push her away, pulling her in and watch as her cheeks flush pink as you squeezed her arm. “Is this okay?”

“I love it.”

[theonottsbxtch]

FOR YOU, ALWAYS | CL16

an: this was a request! i loved wiritng it and now i love the idea of historical romance prince!charles, thank you for requesting it 💞 also i listened to experience by ludovico einaudi the entire time i wrote this

summary: charles has always hated his life, he thinks, he doesn’t know really. but then he meets someone, she challenges him, she makes him try and all of a sudden he knows what he wants.

wc: 12k

The grand dining hall of the Château de Monte Carlo was bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through its ornate windows. Prince Charles of Monaco sat at the long mahogany table, his jaw tight as his parents, the Sovereign Prince and Princess, laid out their expectations with the weight of unshakable certainty.

"You must understand, Charles," his mother said, her voice poised yet firm, "a union with Princess Evelyn of England is not merely desirable—it is necessary. The alliance could strengthen our position in ways you cannot yet fully grasp."

His father leaned forward, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the table. "This is not a matter of choice. You are the crown prince. Your duty outweighs any personal hesitation."

Charles’s fingers tightened around the stem of his untouched glass. “And what of my life? Am I to simply be a pawn in your political games?” His voice was calm, but a sharp edge lay beneath the surface.

His mother’s gaze softened slightly, though not enough to dissuade her resolve. “You are the oldest, my son. The weight of the crown has always been yours to bear. This... is part of that burden.”

He didn’t argue further, though every fibre of his being resisted. Instead, he rose, offering a clipped bow. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Moments later, Charles pushed open the heavy doors to his private chambers, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of his room. His temples throbbed with the remnants of the conversation, and he felt the weight of his parents’ expectations settling heavier than the crown he would one day wear.

Inside, the faint rustle of fabric caught his attention. The servant girl—her name unknown to him, as it was meant to be—was smoothing the fresh sheets over his bed. She froze upon seeing him, her hands faltering mid-motion.

“Your Highness,” she said quickly, dipping into a small, practised curtsey. “I didn’t realise you were returning so soon. Shall I leave and return later?”

He waved a hand absently, stepping toward the settee by the window. “No. Stay. Finish your work.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering to his face, then back to the task at hand. He sank into the settee, his head tilting back against the carved wood as he let out a heavy sigh.

“Do you ever wonder,” he began, his voice soft yet tinged with frustration, “why some of us are given so much freedom, yet chained in ways that others cannot see?”

She paused, her hands gripping the edges of the linen she had just tucked in, unsure if the question was meant for her.

When she did not answer, he looked at her—truly looked at her—for the first time in a long while. Her expression was guarded, her posture poised, as though expecting reproach. “You can speak freely,” he said, a rare hint of gentleness colouring his tone.

Her lips parted slightly, then closed again before she carefully responded, “I think, Your Highness, that even those with freedom often long for something else.”

He smiled faintly, though there was no humour in it. “Something else,” he echoed, the words hanging between them like a challenge to a fate he could not escape.

She quickly turned her attention back to the task at hand, smoothing the sheets in swift, precise movements, as if afraid that lingering would invite trouble. Charles, however, was not done with the conversation.

“And what would you long for?” he asked, his voice quieter now but laced with curiosity. “If you could have… anything?”

Her hands stilled, though she didn’t lift her gaze. “It doesn’t matter, Your Highness. People like me don’t waste time with such thoughts.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The firmness in his tone made her look up briefly, her eyes meeting his for the first time. They were dark, unyielding, yet not unkind. She hesitated, as though weighing the consequences of speaking too openly.

Finally, she murmured, “I suppose… I’d long for choice. To decide my own path, no matter how humble.”

Charles leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regarded her with an intensity that made her shift slightly under his gaze. “Choice,” he repeated, almost to himself. “The one thing I’ve never had.”

She blinked at his words, her brow furrowing in confusion. He noticed the look and gave a soft, bitter laugh.

“You think I have everything, don’t you?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at the opulence surrounding them. “All this, and yet I’m to marry a woman I’ve never met. Smile on command. Produce heirs like some stud horse for the dynasty.”

“Your Highness—”

“Spare me,” he interrupted, raising a hand. “I’m aware I sound insufferable. Poor me, the prince in his gilded cage.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, the faintest shadow of a smile threatening to appear, though she suppressed it quickly. “I wouldn’t dare say so, Your Highness.”

“And yet you’re thinking it,” he said, leaning back against the settee, a faint smirk tugging at his lips now. “Go on. You’ve already said more than most would dare. Speak freely.”

She hesitated, then, emboldened by his unusual mood, offered carefully, “I think… it’s easier to envy a cage when it’s lined with silk.”

Charles let out a bark of laughter, surprising them both. For a moment, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by something lighter.

“Touché,” he said, shaking his head. “Perhaps I deserve that.”

She resumed her work in silence, and he watched her, his mind turning over her words. There was a simplicity in her presence, a quiet sense of purpose that felt like a reprieve from the endless demands of court life.

As she moved to leave, her task completed, she paused by the door. “Your Highness,” she said, her voice tentative.

He glanced up, his expression expectant.

“Sometimes… cages are only as strong as we believe them to be.”

Before he could respond, she slipped out, leaving him alone with his thoughts—and the echo of her words, which refused to leave him in peace.

The words haunted Charles for days. Cages are only as strong as we believe them to be. They played on a loop in his mind, following him from morning meetings with ministers to the hollow dinners with his parents, where talk of his engagement to Princess Evelyn consumed every conversation.

By the third day, he relented. Not to the sentiment behind her words, but to the reality of his life. Duty, it seemed, would always triumph over desire. He formally agreed to the arrangement in a cold meeting with his father, his voice devoid of emotion as he signed the papers that would announce his betrothal to the world.

That evening, restless and seeking solace, he ventured into the royal gardens. The roses were in full bloom, their scent heavy in the warm air, yet they brought him no comfort. The paths, so meticulously maintained, felt as constricting as the marble walls of the palace.

The crisp evening air offered a solace the grand halls could not. He strolled along the manicured paths, his mind still heavy with the decision he had made, when movement near the servant’s entrance caught his eye.

It was her.

She was dressed simply, carrying a basket as she slipped through the narrow door at the edge of the palace walls. For a moment, he simply watched her, a sudden curiosity flaring to life. Then, before reason could temper him, he followed.

She moved with purpose, her steps quick as she crossed the gravel path leading to the servants’ gate. Charles kept his distance, careful to stay within the shadows. The sound of the gate creaking open carried through the still night, and he quickened his pace.

“Wait,” he called softly as the gate began to swing shut behind her.

She spun, startled, her hand flying to her chest when she saw him. “Your Highness!” she whispered, her tone panicked. She glanced around quickly, as though expecting someone to appear from the darkness. “What are you doing out here?”

“I saw you,” he said simply, his voice low, “and I followed.”

Her expression shifted from shock to alarm. “You shouldn’t have. If anyone sees you out here with me—”

“They won’t,” he said firmly, stepping closer.

“But if they do…” Her voice dropped further, almost a plea. “I’ll be dismissed—worse. Do you know what they’d do to me for leaving the palace grounds with the prince?”

He stared at her, and for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of something other than despair. “Please,” he said, the word escaping him softly but with undeniable weight.

Her eyes widened at his uncharacteristic vulnerability. She shook her head, taking a step back. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“I’m not ordering you,” he said quickly. “I’m asking.”

For a moment, she stood frozen, her mind clearly racing. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she pulled the cloak from her shoulders and thrust it toward him.

“Fine,” she said, her tone sharp but her movements careful as she draped it around him. “If anyone asks, you’re my cousin visiting from the countryside. Keep your head down and your mouth shut.”

Charles nodded, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Understood.”

She turned and began walking quickly down the narrow dirt path beyond the gate. He followed, cloaked in her simple, worn garment, the scent of lavender lingering faintly in the fabric.

They walked in silence for what felt like an eternity before the lights of a small village came into view. She turned onto a side lane, leading him to a tiny house at the edge of town, its thatched roof weathered but charming.

“This is it,” she said, her voice clipped as she gestured to the modest dwelling.

He stared at the house, a stark contrast to the palace he called home. “You live here?”

“Yes,” she said, clearly defensive. “It’s small, but it’s mine. No one tells me what to do when I’m here.”

He didn’t respond, too busy taking in the details: the flower boxes beneath the windows, the faint glow of a single candle in the window.

“Now you’ve seen it,” she said, her tone impatient. “You should go back before someone notices you’re missing.”

But Charles shook his head. “No,” he said softly, his eyes still fixed on the little house. “Not yet.”

Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. “You shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted, finally looking at her. “But now that I’m here… I can’t imagine wanting to leave.”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. The quiet stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she sighed again, softer this time.

“Fine,” she said, stepping toward the door. “But if anyone asks, I don’t know why you’re here, and I definitely didn’t bring you.”

She pushed the door open, stepping inside with a cautious glance behind her. Charles followed, ducking slightly to avoid the low wooden beam over the doorway. Before she could say a word, a voice called from inside.

“Back already? I thought you—”

The voice cut off as a man, younger than Charles but older than the servant girl, appeared from the far corner of the small room. He froze, his sharp blue eyes flicking between her and the prince. “What in God’s name…”

“Damn it!” she hissed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I thought you were working the late shift at the docks tonight!”

“I was,” her brother said, stepping forward and squaring his shoulders. His rough shirt and patched trousers bore the telltale marks of dock work—salt stains and grime clung to the fabric. “But the shipment was cancelled. Now you tell me why the bloody prince of Monaco is in our house. Did you kidnap him?”

“Kidnap him?” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Don’t be ridiculous. He followed me!”

Charles, for his part, seemed utterly unconcerned by the commotion. His gaze wandered over the small room with childlike fascination, taking in the chipped table, the cracked ceramic plates stacked neatly in the corner, and the patchwork curtain separating the single sleeping area. He paused to admire a string of dried herbs hanging near the hearth, as though he’d never seen anything so fascinating.

“Your Highness,” the brother said, stepping in front of him with an awkward, hesitant bow. “I mean no disrespect, but do you… do you need me to call someone? Or are you in danger?” He looked over his shoulder at his sister. “Are we in danger?”

“No one is in danger,” Charles replied, his voice calm. He turned to her brother with a polite nod. “Thank you for your concern. I’m here of my own accord.”

The girl pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. Meanwhile, Charles’ eyes landed on a wooden crate near the wall, and before either sibling could stop him, he lowered himself onto it. The crate creaked but held, and he leaned back with a sigh, a serene smile spreading across his face.

The girl spun on him, her exasperation bubbling over. “What are you smiling about?”

He looked up at her, his expression earnest, almost boyish. “It’s beautiful.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Here,” he said, gesturing around the room. “It’s so cosy. Everything has its place. It’s warm, lived-in… peaceful.”

Her brother raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. “You call this beautiful? Your palace is five hundred times the size, and you think this is—”

“I know what my palace is,” Charles interrupted, though his tone held no irritation. “Cold. Grand. Silent. This… this feels alive.”

She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scold him. “It’s a shack,” she said finally, her voice softer but still tinged with disbelief.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “But it’s your shack. And it’s more honest than anything I’ve ever known.”

Her brother exchanged a glance with her, his expression suggesting that he thought the prince might have lost his mind. She only shook her head, sighing heavily as she walked to the table and placed her basket down.

“This is a mistake,” she muttered to herself.

“Perhaps,” Charles said, still smiling, “but it’s the best mistake I’ve made in a long time.”

She busied herself unpacking the basket, placing a few withered carrots, a handful of potatoes, and some crusty bread onto the table. Her brother leaned against the wall, arms crossed, still watching Charles with wary eyes.

“If you’re staying, Your Highness,” she said, her tone clipped as she focused on the food, “I hope you don’t mind scraps.” She hesitated, then glanced at him. “And you can’t tell anyone at the palace that I take the extras. They’d—”

“Dismiss you,” Charles finished, his voice soft. “I won’t tell. You have my word.”

She gave a small nod, her shoulders relaxing slightly, and began peeling the potatoes. Her hands moved deftly, her brother stepping in to fetch water from the small barrel near the door. Charles sat quietly on his makeshift chair, watching the two of them work in a rhythm.

“Do you need help?” he asked after a moment.

Her brother let out a short laugh, but she only shook her head without looking up. “No, Your Highness, but thank you for the offer. I imagine peeling potatoes is beneath you.”

“Not everything is beneath me,” he replied, and while his voice was carrying a hint of dry humour, there was some seriousness to it.

She didn’t respond, but a faint smile tugged at her lips as she chopped the vegetables and tossed them into a battered pot over the small fire. Soon, the room filled with the simple, comforting aroma of soup.

When the meal was ready, she placed three mismatched bowls on the table and ladled out the steaming broth. She set one in front of Charles without ceremony, then handed one to her brother before sitting down herself.

Charles took a tentative sip, and his eyes widened slightly. “This is excellent.”

Her brother snorted. “It’s boiled scraps, mate. You must really have it rough if you think this is fine dining.”

“Max,” she warned, shooting her brother a glare.

Charles chuckled, dipping a chunk of the crusty bread into the soup. “Maybe it’s not fine dining,” he admitted, “but it tastes real. Honest.”

Her brother rolled his eyes but said nothing more, focusing on his meal. The three of them ate in relative silence, the tension in the room easing slightly as the warmth of the food spread through them.

When the bowls were empty, she cleared the table, stacking the dishes neatly on a small shelf. Charles leaned back, his contented smile returning as he watched her move about the room.

“You should go,” she said finally, her voice breaking the quiet. She didn’t turn to face him.

His smile faltered. “I don’t want to.”

Her hands paused for a moment before she resumed tidying the table. “You’ve seen what you wanted to see. This is my life. And you… you have your own life waiting for you back there.”

Charles stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. “I suppose you’re right,” he said softly.

She walked toward the door, not meeting his eyes as she grabbed her cloak and gestured for him to follow. Her brother gave Charles a long, unreadable look as he rose to leave, but he said nothing, only shaking his head as the prince ducked back out into the cool night air.

They walked in silence down the dirt path, the lights of the palace glowing faintly in the distance. When they reached the servants’ gate, she stopped and turned to him, keeping her eyes on the ground.

“This is where we part ways,” she said firmly.

He took a step closer, and when she looked up, she saw something in his expression—gratitude, yes, but something deeper, too. Without a word, he reached for her hand, his touch gentle. He held it for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over her calloused fingers.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “For the soup. For everything.”

Before she could respond, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. The gesture was brief, but it sent a wave of warmth up her arm, leaving her stunned.

He stepped back, releasing her hand, and gave her one last look before slipping through the gate and disappearing into the shadows.

She stood there for a long time, staring at the empty path, her heart racing for reasons she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name.

The next few days at the palace dragged on in a monotonous blur for Charles. His mornings were filled with tiresome meetings about the engagement, his afternoons with rigid etiquette lessons to prepare for public appearances with Princess Evelyn. Every second felt like a tightening noose around his neck.

Finally, the day came for him to meet her. Princess Evelyn of England arrived with her entourage in an ornate carriage, her entrance every bit as grand as expected. She was perfectly polite, perfectly poised—and, to Charles, perfectly insipid.

They sat across from each other in one of the palace’s many drawing rooms, chaperoned by a small battalion of attendants and his ever-watchful parents. She spoke at length about her family lineage, her charity work, and her plans to modernise court life, but her words washed over him like a stream of lukewarm water.

When it was his turn to speak, he managed only the barest pleasantries. He was certain she noticed his lack of enthusiasm, but if it bothered her, she gave no indication.

By the end of the meeting, he felt more drained than he had in years. As she curtsied and left the room, he caught his mother’s pointed glare, but he ignored it.

Before she could say anything to him, he glanced at the ornate clock on his wall. It was nearly the same time as the day she would be fluffing the pillows on his settee. A peculiar sense of anticipation stirred in his chest.

Without a second thought, he made his way to his bedroom. As he opened the door, his eyes immediately fell on her.

She was there, as if summoned by some unspoken wish. She was standing by the settee, her back to him as she carefully fluffed the pillows. Her movements were deliberate, methodical, and entirely unlike the flurry of maids bustling about elsewhere in the palace.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“Perfect timing,” he said loudly, causing her to jump slightly.

She turned, clutching the pillow to her chest. “Your Highness!” she said, startled. “I— I can come back later if—”

“Don’t bother,” he interrupted dramatically, throwing himself onto the bed with a theatrical sigh.

She froze, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed, as he sprawled across the silk covers, one arm flung over his face.

“Let me tell you about the most dreadful afternoon of my life,” he groaned.

Her brow furrowed as she set the pillow back in place. “The dreadful afternoon where you met the woman you’re going to marry?”

“Precisely,” he said, sitting up slightly to gesture at her. “You understand my plight already.”

“I understand you’re being ridiculous,” she replied, smoothing the cushions on the settee.

“Ridiculous?!” he exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. “Do you know what she said when I asked her about her favourite pastime?”

“I don’t,” she said flatly, clearly trying to stay focused on her task.

“She said,” he continued, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm, “Oh, I do adore embroidery. There’s something so meditative about it.”

She stared at him. “That… doesn’t sound terrible.”

He sat up fully now, gesturing emphatically. “Doesn’t sound terrible? It’s horrific! What am I to do with someone who finds stitching flowers onto fabric the height of excitement?”

“You could try embroidery yourself,” she suggested dryly, unable to resist a small smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Very funny. No, what I need is someone who… who challenges me. Someone with fire.”

She arched an eyebrow but said nothing, turning back to the pillows.

“Instead,” he muttered, flopping back onto the bed, “I’m shackled to a walking lesson in decorum.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the soft rustle of fabric as she adjusted the settee. Finally, she turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable.

“Maybe,” she said carefully, “you should spend less time thinking about what you don’t like about her and more time figuring out what you’re looking for.”

Charles opened one eye to glance at her. “And if what I’m looking for isn’t an option?”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. Then, she shook her head and turned back to her work.

“Then you make do,” she said simply.

He watched her for a long moment, his chest tightening inexplicably.

“Is that what you do?” he asked softly.

She paused but didn’t turn around. “Every day, Your Highness.”

Without another word, she grabbed her items and walked out, softly closing the door behind her.

Charles had barely settled back on the bed, still pondering her cryptic answer, when the door to his chambers burst open.

His younger brother, Arthur, strode in, his golden hair slightly dishevelled and a boyish grin plastered across his face. “Charles! I just saw her—the princess of England. She’s… stunning. Gorgeous. A masterpiece, really. You lucky bastard.”

Charles groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Arthur, must you always barge in uninvited?”

Arthur ignored him, plopping himself unceremoniously into one of the velvet chairs near the fireplace. “I mean it. If I were you, I’d have proposed on the spot. Did you see her eyes? Like polished emeralds.”

“She’s… fine,” Charles muttered, his tone flat.

“Fine?” Arthur’s voice rose in mock indignation. “Brother, I’d trade places with you in an instant.” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “What is it? Not enough excitement for you? Too… proper?”

Charles sat up, his expression exasperated. “If you find her so attractive, Arthur, marry her yourself.”

Arthur laughed, clearly amused by the suggestion. “Oh, if only it worked that way. But alas, you are the crown prince. The heir. The one who gets the girl and the throne, while I’m left to look charming at parties.”

Charles shook his head, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn’t help but wonder how different his life might be if the roles were reversed. Could Arthur really be happy living a life of obligation, of gilded cages and loveless arrangements?

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, back to the servant girl. Her small house, her laughter with her brother over bowls of soup, the way she moved through life with an independence he’d never known.

“What would it be like,” he murmured, almost to himself, “to marry someone who isn’t royalty? Someone who isn’t bound by these ridiculous rules?”

Arthur blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. Then he laughed, loud and incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

Charles turned his head sharply, fixing his brother with a challenging look. “I’m serious. What would it be like to marry a commoner? To live a life free of all this… pomp and pretence?”

Arthur’s laughter faded, replaced by a look of disbelief. “You are mad. Do you have any idea what that would mean? The scandal? The uproar? Father would have a fit. Mother would faint on the spot. And the people? They’d riot.”

“Would they?” Charles asked, his tone calm but insistent. “Or would they understand? Would they respect a prince who chose love over duty?”

Arthur shook his head, a faint sneer creeping into his expression. “You don’t know what you’re saying. A prince doesn’t marry a milkmaid or a seamstress. It’s not a fairytale, Charles. We’re not… like them.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

“Not like them,” Charles repeated softly, his voice carrying a hint of disdain. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Arthur hesitated, then shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. “It means we have a responsibility. A legacy to uphold. Marrying into royalty isn’t just tradition—it’s survival. You think Father and Mother arranged your engagement for fun?”

Charles didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, his mind churning. Arthur’s words grated against something deep within him, something that longed to push back against the boundaries of their carefully constructed world.

“Maybe,” he said finally, his voice low, “the legacy isn’t worth the cost.”

Arthur stared at him, his disbelief giving way to concern. “Charles… you’ve been spending too much time alone. Or worse—reading poetry again. Get your head out of the clouds, brother. This is your life. Learn to accept it.”

With that, Arthur rose, clapping Charles on the shoulder before striding toward the door. “And if you won’t,” he added with a grin, “I’ll gladly keep the princess company. You’re a fool not to appreciate her.”

The door closed behind him, leaving Charles alone in the echoing silence of his chambers.

But his mind wasn’t silent.

It churned, restless and defiant, filled with images of a life he might never know.

The chill of the autumn night bit at Charles’s skin as he hurried along the winding path toward the small house. A week had passed, and though he told himself repeatedly that it was improper—foolish, even—he couldn’t shake the gnawing thought of her.

He hadn’t seen her since their last conversation in his chambers. Every day without her had stretched longer than the last. No wry comments while she smoothed the wrinkles from his sheets, no gentle jabs at his dramatics.

The house appeared before him, small and humble against the starlit sky. Light peeked through the cracks in the shutters.

He hesitated, his heart pounding. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked.

The door opened a crack, her face appearing in the dim light. The moment she recognised him, her eyes widened in alarm, and she yanked him inside, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Your Highness!” she whispered fiercely, pressing her back against the door as though to block the outside world. “Are you out of your mind? I’ll be hung if they find you at my door!”

He tried to smile, though he knew she was right. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

Her expression turned exasperated. “That’s not a valid reason to sneak out of the palace, Prince Charles.”

“Isn’t it?” he countered lightly, though the heat rising in his cheeks betrayed the truth of how much he’d missed her.

Her sigh was heavy with frustration, but something softened in her gaze. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said again, though her voice lacked its earlier sharpness. She moved away from the door, adjusting the shawl around her shoulders.

It was then that he noticed the redness around her nose, the slight rasp in her voice.

“You’ve been ill,” he said, stepping closer.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, waving him off as she moved toward the small kitchen space. “A cold. Happens every year when the weather turns. I’ll survive.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said quietly, glancing around the room.

“Life doesn’t wait for the sniffles,” she said with a faint smirk, though her movements were slower than usual as she reached for a bowl.

“Then let me help,” he said, surprising both of them.

She turned, raising an eyebrow. “You? Help? What do you know about cooking?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he admitted, grinning. “But I’m an excellent student.”

She stared at him for a moment, as though deciding whether to humour him. Finally, she handed him a knife and motioned toward a small pile of vegetables. “Fine. Peel those. Try not to cut yourself.”

He took the knife gingerly, studying the carrot as if it were a puzzle. She chuckled softly, the sound warming the small space, and stepped beside him to show him the proper angle for peeling.

The next hour passed in a flurry of quiet laughter and careful instructions. He fumbled with the knife, his first attempts earning teasing remarks from her, but he improved quickly under her guidance. Together, they chopped, stirred, and seasoned until the small pot on the stove began to bubble with a fragrant stew.

As they worked, the conversation drifted.

“You’re better at this than I expected,” she said, handing him a spoon to stir.

He smiled. “Careful. If you keep complimenting me, I might come back for more lessons.”

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Cooking isn’t glamorous work, Your Highness. It’s just… survival.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone thoughtful, “but there’s something… grounding about it. It feels real.”

She looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You really hate that palace life, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead focusing on the steady motion of the spoon in the pot. “I don’t hate it,” he said eventually. “It’s just… hollow. Every decision is made for me. Every word is calculated. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be in all of it.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “You’re lucky, though,” she said softly. “Even if it’s hollow, you have a place. A name. People like me… we’re just the shadows keeping the fire alive.”

He stopped stirring, her words settling heavily in the space between them. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said after a moment.

She tilted her head, her expression sceptical. “No?”

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re more than that. You’re clever. Strong. Independent. You see things I never could.”

She blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his voice.

“That’s what I like about you,” he added softly, almost without thinking.

The words hung in the air, and he froze, realising too late what he’d said.

Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and she turned away quickly, pretending to adjust the pot on the stove.

His own face burned as he fumbled for something to say, but nothing came. The silence stretched on, heavy and charged, until she finally spoke, her voice quieter than before.

“You should taste the stew,” she said, not looking at him.

He stepped forward, dipping the spoon into the pot and taking a tentative sip.

“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice softer now.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though she still didn’t meet his gaze.

The evening deepened, the chill of the autumn air seeping through the thin walls of the small house. Charles noticed her slight shiver as she ladled the stew into two mismatched bowls, the threadbare shawl around her shoulders doing little to shield her from the cold.

He stood abruptly, unfastening the clasp of his heavy cloak. She turned to look at him, startled, as he stepped behind her and draped it gently over her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked, pulling the thick fabric around herself instinctively.

“You’re cold,” he said simply, sitting back down and picking up his bowl.

She hesitated, looking at him with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. “But you’ll freeze without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied with a small smile. “I’ve survived colder nights, army and all of that.”

The warmth of the cloak seemed to envelop her, and she relaxed slightly, sitting down across from him. For a moment, they ate in silence, the quiet clinking of their spoons the only sound.

When their bowls were empty, Charles glanced around the modest room, noticing for the first time the lack of a hearthfire.

“Do you light a fire at night?” he asked, though he already suspected the answer.

She shook her head. “Can’t afford firewood,” she said matter-of-factly, collecting their bowls. “It’s not so bad. We manage.”

“Oh,” was all he managed to say, though the thought of her and her brother enduring nights in such cold unsettled him deeply.

She didn’t seem to notice his reaction, busying herself with tidying up.

Later, as he prepared to leave, she hesitated by the door, holding his cloak out to him.

“Take this back,” she said softly.

He pushed her hand gently back toward her. “Keep it,” he insisted. “For tonight.”

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped, the words faltering. Finally, she nodded, her fingers tightening around the fabric.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

He smiled at her one last time before stepping out into the night, the chill biting at him instantly as he made his way back to the palace.

She played with the royal clasp of his cloak as he left and wondered what her life would be like if she wasn’t just a servant and he wasn’t the Crown Prince of Monaco.

No less than a few days later, her brother barged into the small house, his footsteps heavy against the creaking floorboards.

“Why,” he began, his voice loud and incredulous, “is there months’ worth of firewood outside the house?”

She looked up from where she was patching a worn-out scarf, distracted. “What are you talking about?”

“The firewood,” he repeated, gesturing wildly toward the door. “There’s a mountain of it, just sitting there! Did you rob a lumberyard?”

She frowned, setting down her work and walking to the door. When she stepped outside, her eyes widened at the sight of the neatly stacked pile of firewood by the side of the house.

“I… I don’t know,” she stammered, completely bewildered.

It was then that she noticed a small slip of paper tucked into the top of the stack. Pulling it free, she unfolded it to reveal a note written in a familiar, elegant hand.

Keep warm – C

Her cheeks flushed, and a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Her brother leaned over her shoulder, reading the note. “C?” he asked suspiciously. “Who’s C?”

She folded the note quickly, tucking it into her apron pocket. “No one,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

Her brother narrowed his eyes but didn’t press further, shaking his head as he muttered something about princes and their peculiarities.

She was fluffing the pillows on the freshly made bed when the door to the prince’s chambers swung open. Charles strode in, his expression lighting up the moment he saw her. Without hesitation, he leapt onto the bed, landing with a dramatic bounce that sent a pillow tumbling to the floor.

“You’re back!” he exclaimed, grinning. “And you’re better!”

“And you just ruined the bed I made.” she chided but then moved on to adjusting a vase on the side table. “Well I must say, a lit fire at night changes a whole lot.”

He froze for a fraction of a second, then sat up, feigning ignorance with an exaggerated shrug. “Oh? A fire, you say? That’s… good to hear. Fires are quite helpful, I’m told.”

Her smirk widened. “I’m sure someone told you that.”

“Perhaps,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But we’re not here to discuss firewood logistics, are we?”

She rolled her eyes, walking around the room to dust the mantel. “Then what would you like to discuss, Your Highness?”

He sighed heavily, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over his face. “The princess of England.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him. “Oh?”

“I have to meet her again,” he groaned. “Another tea, another tedious conversation about fabrics or her needlework or some other mind-numbing topic. I swear, I’d rather duel blindfolded than sit through it.”

She snorted, biting back a laugh. “Blindfolded? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No,” he said, peeking at her from under his arm. “It’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Of course it is,” she said, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. “Because what’s more reasonable than a prince skewering himself just to avoid small talk?”

He sat up, clutching his chest theatrically. “You wound me, madam. Truly, your lack of sympathy is cruel.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, shaking her head as she set the duster aside. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, grinning.

She turned back to the mantel, but when the silence stretched, she glanced over her shoulder. He was watching her, his expression soft, his eyes warm and intent.

Her brow furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He blinked, snapping out of his reverie, and quickly looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t looking at you.”

“You absolutely were,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a suspicious look.

“No, I was… thinking,” he said, his voice a touch too casual.

She arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”

“About…” He scrambled for an answer, then pointed toward the bed. “About how well you made this bed. Truly impressive. Best I’ve ever seen.”

She rolled her eyes again, but a faint blush crept into her cheeks. “Right,” she said, picking up her duster. “Well, I’ll leave you to your very important thinking, then.”

He watched her go, his chest tightening as the door clicked softly shut behind her.

Over the next few days, Charles found himself increasingly distracted. Whether strolling through the palace gardens or enduring another tiresome tea with the princess, his thoughts invariably drifted to her. The way her wit kept him on his toes. The quiet determination in her movements. The occasional flicker of softness beneath her sharp remarks.

It was maddening.

When he was near her, he found excuses to linger. When she wasn’t around, he searched for her without realising it. And as much as he tried to push the growing ache in his chest aside, he couldn’t deny what was happening.

He’d fallen for her.

It was late afternoon when he returned to his chambers after a gruelling diplomatic meeting. To his delight, she was there, dusting the intricate carvings on the wooden frame of his bed. She didn’t notice him enter, humming softly to herself as she worked.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, watching her for a moment before clearing his throat.

She jumped, spinning around to face him, clutching her duster like a weapon. “Do you have to sneak up on me?”

“It’s my room,” he said, smirking. “I can hardly sneak into my own space.”

She scowled, turning back to her work. “You’re insufferable.”

“So you’ve said,” he replied, stepping further into the room. “But you keep coming back. Perhaps I’m growing on you.”

“I come back because it’s my job,” she retorted, moving to dust a nearby shelf.

He followed her, leaning lazily against the furniture. “A job you seem to excel at. Though I wonder… do you enjoy tormenting me as much as I enjoy tormenting you?”

She shot him a sharp glance, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Someone has to keep your ego in check, Your Highness.”

He chuckled, reaching out to pluck the duster from her hand. “You do it so well,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her breath hitched slightly as he leaned closer, her eyes darting to his before flicking away. “You should stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing as he leaned closer still, his face mere inches from hers.

“Whatever it is you’re doing,” she said, stepping back slightly, only to find herself against the edge of the shelf.

The tension in the air was palpable, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His gaze was locked on hers, and for a moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.

“Charles?” his brother’s voice called from the hallway.

Panic flared in her eyes, and Charles acted on instinct, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the large wardrobe at the side of the room.

“What are you—” she began, but he pressed a finger to her lips as he opened the wardrobe door and ushered her inside.

The space was small, barely enough for the two of them. She pressed herself against the back wall as he stepped in, closing the door behind them.

The darkness was absolute, and the only sound was the quiet shuffle of their breaths.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

A beat passed, and she whispered back, her voice laced with frustration, “If we get caught, it’ll be my neck, not yours.”

“No one’s getting caught,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

In the confined space, his hand brushed against hers, and he froze. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his fingers moved to her face. His touch was light, tentative, as though he feared she might vanish at any moment.

His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, brushing against her skin with agonising slowness. Her breath hitched, and in the silence, it felt deafening.

“Why are you…” she began, but her voice faltered as his fingers brushed the line of her jaw, lingering there for a moment before sliding to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“You’re too close,” she replied, though her tone lacked conviction.

The faintest smile curved his lips, though she couldn’t see it in the dark. “You’re not stopping me,” he said softly.

Before she could respond, his brother’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. “Charles, where are you?”

He leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing hers. “Stay still,” he murmured, his hand still cradling her cheek.

She closed her eyes, the tension in the small space suffocating and electric all at once.

Footsteps receded as his brother left the room, grumbling something about missing him.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, Charles let out a slow breath, his hand dropping from her face. He opened the wardrobe door slightly, letting in the dim light of the room.

“Safe,” he said quietly, stepping back to let her out.

She stepped past him, her cheeks flushed and her breaths uneven. “You’re reckless,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she hurried to gather her duster.

He smirked, leaning against the wardrobe door. “And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

She shot him a glare over her shoulder, but the pink in her cheeks betrayed her.

“Get back to work, Your Highness,” she said, her tone sharp but her voice unsteady.

He chuckled softly, watching her go.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Charles’s chambers, painting golden streaks across the plush rug. She was there again, this time at his desk, meticulously polishing the brass handles of the drawers. She worked with the same quiet efficiency she always did, her movements steady, purposeful.

Charles, reclining lazily on the settee, had been pretending to read a book for the past ten minutes. In truth, he’d barely turned a page. His attention was drawn, as it so often was these days, to her.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Have you ever taken a moment to rest?”

She glanced at him briefly before returning to her task. “I rest when my work is done.”

“And when is it done?” he pressed, setting the book down and rising to his feet.

She didn’t answer immediately, her focus still on the brass handle in her hand. “When your chambers sparkle, Your Highness.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “It already sparkles. You’ve polished this desk so many times I can see my reflection.”

She huffed softly, clearly unimpressed. “There’s still dust.”

He reached out, his hand gently brushing hers as she gripped the cloth. She stilled, her breath catching as his fingers lingered over hers.

“You’re relentless,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her eyes flicked to his, wide and uncertain. “And you’re in my way.”

He smiled, his expression teasing but his gaze intent. “I’m rarely in anyone’s way. It’s a novelty.”

She tried to step back, but he moved with her, closing the distance between them. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Observing,” he said, his voice soft, warm, as if he were sharing a secret. “You’re endlessly fascinating to watch, you know.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, but he reached out, gently tilting her chin so she’d meet his eyes again.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she said, her voice shaky.

“Why not?”

“Because…” She faltered, her lips parting as she searched for words. “Because you shouldn’t.”

He leaned in slightly, his hand still holding her chin. The air between them was heavy, charged with something neither of them dared name.

“You’re trembling again,” he said softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles.

“I’m not,” she said quickly, but her voice betrayed her.

“You are,” he whispered, his thumb brushing her jaw in the lightest of touches.

Her breath hitched, and her hands tightened around the cloth she still held. “This is dangerous,” she managed, though her tone was weak.

“For you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Or for me?”

She couldn’t answer, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

His hand moved, the backs of his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek, then down to her neck, where his thumb rested lightly against her pulse. He felt it hammering beneath his touch and smiled softly, almost as if he were marvelling at it.

“You feel it too,” he said, his voice low and intimate, as if the world beyond this moment didn’t exist.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she finally pushed lightly at his chest. “You… need to stop.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze locked on hers. Then, slowly, he stepped back, though the tension in the air lingered like a storm about to break.

She turned away quickly, grabbing her cloth and pretending to busy herself with the desk again, though her hands shook so much she nearly dropped it.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice stopping her in her tracks.

She didn’t turn back to him, but she nodded slightly, her voice quiet. “Don’t do it again.”

But neither of them believed that.

That night the crackle of the fire in the grand drawing room filled the silence as Charles poured himself another glass of brandy. His younger brother lounged in the chair across from him, a glass already in hand.

“You’ve been distracted lately,” Arthur said, swirling his drink. “Even more so than usual.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. “Have I?”

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “You spent half of tea with the English delegation yesterday staring at the window. I’m pretty sure they could have declared war, and you wouldn’t have noticed.”

Charles chuckled, though it lacked his usual mirth. He stared into his glass, the amber liquid catching the firelight.

“Arthur,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

His brother tilted his head, curious. “What?”

“What would you think of… being the next heir to the throne?”

Arthur blinked, then laughed, loud and incredulous. “What, you’re not planning on dying anytime soon, are you?”

“No,” Charles said, shaking his head, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

Arthur leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Then why would you ask that?”

Charles swirled his drink, his gaze distant. “Just… wondering.”

Arthur snorted, leaning back again. “Abdicating is social suicide. If you’re even entertaining the thought, I’d advise you to stop immediately.”

Charles stayed silent, his thumb brushing idly along the rim of his glass.

The quiet stretched, and Arthur froze mid-drink, lowering his glass to the table with a sharp clink. His eyes widened, and his voice dropped. “You’re not thinking of abdicating… are you?”

Charles didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he stared into the fire.

“Cha,” Arthur pressed, his voice rising slightly. “What the hell is going on with you? Who’s put this absurd idea in your head?”

Charles glanced at him, his expression inscrutable. “It’s not absurd.”

“It is when you’re the crown prince of Monaco,” Arthur snapped, sitting up straighter. “You’d give up everything—power, privilege, our family’s legacy—for what? A whim? A fleeting fancy?”

“It’s not a fancy,” Charles said sharply, his voice cutting through the room.

Arthur blinked, taken aback by his brother’s rare flash of anger. “Then what is it?”

Charles leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and staring hard at his brother. “What if I told you it’s something real? That I’ve found something—someone—who makes me feel more alive than anything this throne ever could?”

Arthur’s jaw dropped slightly, his expression caught between shock and disbelief. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Charles said, his tone firm.

Arthur exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t just about a servant, is it?”

Charles’s head shot up, his eyes narrowing. “How—”

“Please,” Arthur said, waving a hand. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you’ve been sneaking out, the looks you give when you think no one’s watching? The firewood? You’re an open book.”

Charles leaned back, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I underestimated you.”

“And you’re underestimating the chaos you’d cause,” Arthur shot back. “Do you have any idea what this would mean for the family? For Monaco?”

Charles’s expression hardened. “For once, I’m thinking about what it would mean for me.”

Arthur stared at him, the firelight casting shadows across his face. “You’d walk away from all of this?”

“If it meant being with her?” Charles said, his voice soft but resolute. “Yes. I would.”

The weight of his words settled over them, and for once, Arthur didn’t have a quick retort.

The next few days were torturous for Charles. Each moment stretched longer than the last, his thoughts dominated by her. Every step he took through the palace halls felt meaningless without catching sight of her—her quick smile, her quiet resolve, the way she challenged him without fear.

He thought of her words, her laughter, the way her cheeks flushed when he teased her. More than that, he thought of the way she made him feel—seen, understood, even cherished in a way that no title or crown could replicate.

His heart ached with the weight of it, with the need to tell her, to unburden himself of the truth that had taken root so deeply he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

But how? How could he look her in the eye and admit what he was so sure would unravel the tenuous balance between them?

One morning, he found himself wandering aimlessly through the palace gardens. It was the time of day she often brought fresh linens from the storage to the castle, she usually crossed the gardens. He lingered, hoping for a glimpse of her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Frustrated, he returned to his chambers, pacing the space restlessly, thinking. No, waiting to next see her. When she finally arrived, carrying a tray of fresh tea and biscuits, his breath hitched.

“You’re pacing,” she said, placing the tray on the table. “That’s never a good sign.”

“I’ve been restless,” he admitted, stopping mid-stride. “And you’re late.”

She raised an eyebrow as she set the tea. “Didn’t know I was on your schedule.”

He crossed the room to her, his steps deliberate. “I notice when you’re not here.”

Her hands stilled for a moment before she resumed arranging the tea things. “I’m just a servant, Your Highness. Surely you have better things to notice.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his voice dropping.

She looked up at him, her expression guarded. “It should be.”

He wanted to argue, to say it wasn’t her place to decide what mattered to him, but the vulnerability in her gaze stopped him. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Have you eaten today?”

She frowned, clearly caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’d wager you haven’t,” he said, stepping closer. “You work yourself to the bone.”

She shrugged, turning back to her task. “I’m used to it.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said, his tone softer now. “Come. Sit with me for a moment.”

She hesitated, glancing at the door. “If someone sees—”

“No one will,” he said, moving to pull a chair out for her. “Please.”

Her eyes darted between him and the chair before she sighed, giving in and sitting reluctantly.

He poured her a cup of tea, his movements unhurried. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, and he felt the now-familiar spark that always seemed to follow her touch.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly, looking down at the tea.

“Do what?”

“Treat me like I’m someone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone important.”

His chest tightened. “You are.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, filled with a mix of disbelief and something else—something that made his breath catch.

For a moment, he thought about saying it, about laying it all out before her. But the words caught in his throat, weighed down by the fear of what her reaction might be.

The next day, Charles found himself waiting for her in his chambers again, anticipation thrumming through him. When she arrived, her arms full of fresh linens, he immediately noticed the faint circles under her eyes.

“You’re overworking yourself again,” he said, standing from his seat near the window.

“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone brisk as she moved to change the bedding.

“You’re not,” he countered, moving closer.

She straightened, turning to face him. “Why do you care?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken truths.

“Because…” He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as he struggled to find the right words. “Because you matter to me.”

Her lips parted, her breath catching. “Charles, don’t—”

“I’m not trying to overstep,” he said quickly. “But you should know—I can’t ignore it anymore.”

“Ignore what?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. She stepped back instinctively, breaking the moment.

Over the next few days, he was quieter, more pensive. He found himself watching her more often, the words he wanted to say always on the tip of his tongue. But every time he opened his mouth, the weight of the risks stopped him.

What if she didn’t feel the same? What if she did, but couldn’t say so?

The questions tormented him, each one drawing him closer to the inevitable conclusion: he had to tell her.

But how could he make her understand the depth of his feelings without ruining everything?

Charles really tried to wait it out, he tried so hard.

But when the rain lashed outside his chambers where he sat in the dimly lit room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

He worried.

It was late, far later than when she usually came, but he had waited, a knot of tension in his chest.

When the door finally opened, and she stepped inside with her usual quiet grace, drenched from the rain with his laundry in a covered basket, his heart leapt.

“You’re soaked,” he said, standing quickly. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”

She shrugged, setting the basket down by the door. “Work doesn’t stop for a storm, Your Highness.”

He frowned, crossing the room to her. “Take off that cloak; you’ll catch your death.”

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing past him toward the hearth, but her shivering betrayed her words.

He moved closer, pulling her gently toward the warmth of the fire. “Why do you always insist on pretending you’re fine when you’re not?”

She stiffened under his touch. “Because I have no other choice.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. He reached for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her cold fingers. “You shouldn’t have to live like this.”

She pulled her hands back, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and caution. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He hesitated, his heart pounding. “I can’t keep pretending. Not anymore.”

“Pretending what?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

“That I don’t feel this,” he said, stepping closer. “That I don’t feel everything for you.”

Her eyes widened, her breath catching. “Charles…”

“I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out, raw and unguarded. “I’ve tried to fight it, to ignore it, but I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Before she could even stop them, tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head, stepping back. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.”

“I do,” he said firmly, closing the distance between them again. “I’d give up everything—this title, this life—if it meant being with you.”

Her tears spilled over then, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice breaking. “If I’m not happy here—if I can’t have the life I want—what good is any of this?”

“Because you don’t know what you’re saying,” she said, her voice rising. “You’ve lived in a palace your entire life, with servants, banquets, comfort. You don’t know what it’s like to live without it. To go to bed on an empty stomach. To wake up not knowing if you’ll have work the next day. I can’t do that to you.”

“You wouldn’t be doing it to me,” he said desperately. “It would be my choice.”

She shook her head again, her tears falling faster now. “And what happens when you realise you can’t live like that? When the reality of it sets in? You’ll resent me. And I’ll lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” he said, his voice pleading as he reached for her hands again. “I swear to you, you won’t.”

“I don’t have a good life,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can barely take care of myself. How could I take care of you?”

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he said, his hands tightening around hers. “I just need you. I don’t care about the rest.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his, her tears glistening in the firelight. “You’re asking me to believe in something that feels impossible.”

“Then let me prove it to you,” he said, his voice breaking as his own tears threatened to fall. “Please. Give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Her resolve wavered, her breath hitching as his words sank in. She wanted to believe him—desperately—but the fear of what they would face, of what they would lose, loomed over her.

“Cha…” she began, her voice cracking.

“Please,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Say yes. Just… say yes.”

For a long, agonising moment, the only sound was the rain pounding against the windows and the crackle of the fire.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she said finally, her voice barely audible.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said, cupping her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “But don’t push me away. Not now. Not when I know you feel this too.”

Her lips quivered, and she closed her eyes, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re impossible,” she whispered.

“And you’re everything,” he replied, his voice trembling with emotion.

After pacing around his room for a few days, thinking of how he was going to tell his father, Charles went to his study.

The atmosphere in the king’s study was heavy with tension, the air almost crackling as Charles stood before his father. The older man sat behind an imposing mahogany desk, his expression dark and unreadable. The storm that had raged days earlier seemed to have shifted inside these walls, centering on the room as if the universe sensed the coming conflict.

“I need to speak with you,” Charles began, his voice steady but tight.

The king set down the pen he had been holding, his gaze sharp. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” Charles replied, straightening his shoulders. “I’ve made a decision.”

The king leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I see. Go on, then.”

“I’m going to abdicate.”

For a moment, the words seemed to hang in the air, the weight of them pressing down on the room.

Then, the king’s expression darkened further, his voice sharp and incredulous. “You’re what?”

“I’ve decided I don’t want the throne,” Charles said firmly. “It’s not the life I want anymore.”

The king rose from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate as he loomed over the desk. “Do you even understand what you’re saying? What you’re throwing away?”

“Yes,” Charles said, meeting his father’s gaze without flinching. “I’ve thought about this—more than you know. I don’t want this life. I want…” He hesitated, his voice softening. “I want to live my own life.”

The king scoffed, shaking his head. “And what life would that be? One of obscurity? Of poverty? You’ve never gone a day without comfort, without privilege. You know nothing of what it’s like out there, and you think you can just… give all of this up?”

“I do,” Charles said, his tone resolute.

The king’s eyes narrowed. “This is about her, isn’t it? That servant girl. Your mother mentioned her but I did not believe her.”

Charles’s chest tightened, but he didn’t deny it. “Yes. It’s about her. But it’s also about me. About what I want, who I want to be. And I know I don’t want this.”

“Don’t be a fool,” the king snapped, his voice rising. “You think love is enough to sustain you? That some fantasy of a simpler life will keep you warm when reality sets in? She can’t give you what you need, Charles.”

“She gives me what I want,” Charles shot back, his voice fierce. “And for once, isn’t that enough?”

“No, it isn’t!” the king roared, slamming his hand on the desk. “You’re a prince! You have a duty—to your family, to your people. You can’t just walk away because of some fleeting infatuation.”

“It’s not fleeting,” Charles said, his voice dropping but losing none of its intensity. “I love her. And I’d rather live a life with her—whatever that looks like—than spend one more moment pretending to be happy here.”

The king laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You’re naïve. You don’t even know how to survive out there.”

“She’ll teach me,” Charles said, surprising even himself with the certainty in his voice. “I want to learn. I want that life—with her.”

The king stared at him, his face a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “You’re throwing away everything you’ve ever known for a life of struggle. For what?”

“For love,” Charles said simply.

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The king finally sat back down, rubbing a hand over his face. When he looked up again, his expression was weary but no less stern.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” Charles replied. “But it’s my mistake to make.”

The king’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze searching his son’s face as if looking for a crack in his resolve. But Charles stood firm, his decision made.

“You’ll regret this,” the king said finally, his voice heavy with warning.

“Perhaps,” Charles said. “But I’ll never regret choosing her.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the study, leaving his father staring after him in silence.

The rumours spread like wildfire. Whispers followed Charles wherever he walked, his every step trailed by servants and courtiers exchanging furtive glances and hushed speculations. The air in the palace buzzed with the shock of his decision, but none of it mattered to him. Not the disapproval etched into his father’s face, nor the incredulous murmurs of the courtiers. His mind was focused solely on her.

He found her in the palace laundry room, folding linens with the quiet efficiency that always seemed to calm her. When he walked in, she froze, her fingers clutching the corner of a sheet.

“You,” she began, her voice a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “You really went through with it?”

He stepped closer, his hands tucked behind his back, his face calm but his eyes alight with purpose. “I told you I would.”

She stared at him, shaking her head. “I thought—Charles, I thought it was just talk. Something you’d get over once you realised how insane it is.”

“Well, I’m officially insane,” he said with a faint smile, stepping closer.

She dropped the sheet onto the table and turned to face him fully, her arms crossed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The crown, the throne, your entire future—it’s gone. All of it. For what?”

“For you,” he said simply.

Her mouth opened, but no words came. Finally, she shook her head, her voice trembling. “You’re impossible. Do you know what this means? I can’t work here anymore, not if you abdicate. The palace won’t keep me.”

“I know,” he said gently. “And I wouldn’t ask you to stay here. We’ll leave—together.”

“Leave?” she echoed, blinking at him.

“Yes,” he said, stepping closer until he was just in front of her. “I’ve been thinking about it. We can go somewhere no one knows us, where we can start fresh.”

She stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Where would we even go?”

“Italy,” he said with a small smile.

“Italy?” she repeated, her brows furrowing.

“Yes, maybe Marenello,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “It’s beautiful, the weather is perfect, and… I don’t know, it just feels right.”

She let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Charles, I don’t even speak Italian.”

He tilted his head, his smile widening. “Then, for once, I’ll get to teach you something.”

His words hung in the air, so tender and unexpected that she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. The corners of his eyes crinkled at her reaction, and before she could say anything else, he stepped even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

She closed her eyes, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through her. “You’re serious about this,” she whispered.

“Completely,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m not afraid of starting over, not if it’s with you.”

For a moment, she let herself believe it could be possible—this crazy, impossible dream of theirs.

“When?” she asked softly.

“Tomorrow,” he said, his voice full of quiet resolve. “After I sign the abdication papers.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, searching eyes. “And then what?”

He smiled, his expression both calm and full of determination. “And then we start the life we’ve always wanted.”

She didn’t want to be vulgar, she really didn’t but she had to be honest.

She was shitting herself at the thought of being summoned into the King’s office with the entire family.

The office was uncharacteristically quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the palace muffled by the thick doors. Charles sat at the massive oak desk, the official abdication papers spread out before him. Arthur stood off to the side, his arms crossed, watching the scene with a mix of bewilderment and unease while his parents stood by the desk with a clear look of disdain etched on their faces.

She stood near the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She looked smaller than usual, her nerves evident in the way her fingers twisted together. Her wide eyes darted between Charles and the papers, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of them.

Arthur broke the silence first. “Are you sure about what you’re doing, Cha?”

Charles’s pen hovered over the signature line, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked up at her. She met his gaze, and in that instant, the rest of the room faded away. The worry in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together as if she was holding back words—it was as if he was falling in love all over again.

“You don’t have to do this for me, Cha,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He smiled at her, then, without hesitation, he bent his head and signed his name in bold strokes across the paper.

The moment was electric, the scratch of the pen on parchment the only sound in the room. When he finally set the pen down, it felt as if the world had shifted, as if something monumental had been set into motion.

Arthur exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Well, there it is,” he muttered, his voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and resignation. “You’re officially insane.”

Charles stood, his movements deliberate as he turned to face her. “Go back to your house,” he said, his voice steady but laced with an urgency that made her breath hitch. “Pack your things. Tell your brother. We’re leaving at six.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting as if to protest, but before she could say a word, Arthur muttered something about needing air and slipped out of the room, leaving them alone, his parents following shortly behind.

The silence that followed was thick with tension, their gazes locked as the gravity of what had just happened sank in.

“You…” she began, her voice trembling. “You really did it.”

“I did,” he said, stepping closer to her.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could, he cupped her face gently in his hands. The world seemed to pause, the space between them charged with an intensity that neither of them could deny any longer.

And then he kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative, as if he was savouring the moment he had dreamed of for so long. But when she leaned into him, her hands clutching his jacket as if to anchor herself, the kiss deepened, becoming a silent promise of everything they were about to face together.

When they finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

She blinked, her eyes shining as she searched his face. “I love you too,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. Because she did, she didn’t know when she exactly fell in love with him. Maybe it was when he first came to her house and looked at it with wonder rather than judgement or maybe it was when they shared that intimate moment in the wardrobe.

He smiled, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Then go,” he said. “Pack your things. This time tomorrow, we’ll be miles away from here. Together.”

She nodded, her resolve strengthening as she stepped back, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before she turned and slipped out of the office.

Charles stood there for a moment, the weight of what he’d just done settling in his chest. But for the first time in his life, he felt truly free.

the end.

[thinkingotherwise]

Bofurin my new beloved.

Ways of loving

- five ways to show love, between you and the Wind Breaker characters.

First are the more notable first years (Sakura, Nirei, Suou, Sugishita, Kiryu, Tsugeura) and our dear Kotoha.

Second and Third years

1. Words of Affirmation

Haruka Sakura - admitting love through phone when classmates can hear

You and Haruka were talking on the phone, you just had to talk with him about the depressing mood you found yourself in following the awful morning, knowing well enough that he could motivate you and make you feel much better. After talking almost the whole break your mood got a lot better and knowing that you would meet with him later on seemed to pick you up on its own.

Sakura didn’t mind you calling him and talking about your or his problems but there was always a moment he dreaded the most. No matter how many times you were talking on the phone he tried to go as far away from his classmates as he could. He loved you, he really did and wanted to tell you that even though it took so much confidence from him, but saying so in front of others was on a whole new level, which he wasn’t yet ready for. And so the whole time you guys were talking he was crouching behind one of the buildings to keep as much privacy as he could.

“Okay then, I’ll see you after school. Love you Haru.” You said sweetly and his ears coloured pink at the nickname you always called him.

“Love you more (N/n).” He replied trying to be suave with his wavering voice but then he heard the laughing and it wasn’t coming from his phone.

Sakura quickly stood up and looked back to be face to face with his whole classroom in the windows listening in on his conversation with you.

“Oh, I love you.” Kiryu started drawing out the words in a joking matter.

“Don’t worry (N/n), we will cuddle later on.” Takanashi said and started cuddling Kakiuchi who in return patted his head.

“No, love you more.” Suou joined in and later on a few more guys jokingly mocked the conversation they heard their class captain having.

Sakura felt himself boiling up, his face got all red and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was nervous and embarrassed or because he wanted to beat the hell out of the guys.

“Is everything alright, Haruka?” You questioned worriedly hearing a lot of voices from Sakura’s side.

“I-it’s fine, the idiots from my class were just listening in, clearly they want a beating.” He said firstly nervous but then his eyes darkened at the classmates.

“We will talk later, love you bye.” Sakura added and quickly hung up placing his phone back in the pocket.

He then turned fully to the guys.

“You better run.” He run up the wall and started climbing through the window to get to them as they started running away while screaming and yelling.

2. Acts of Service

Kyotaro Sugishita - doting on you during everyday activities

Filling the documents for your school club took so much of your attention that you didn't hear the people around you gasp and murmur about the moody boy standing in front of the clubroom. Only when one of your friends nudged you with their elbow did you look up and notice that everyone stared at the long-haired boy speaking to your club president.

You smirked at how uncomfortable Kyotaro looked and started packing your things. It was endearing that even though you told him he could wait outside, knowing that he didn't like socializing, he still came inside your school and even to your clubroom just to get you and walk you home.

"Can you just tell me why you are here?" Your president asked interrogating Kyotaro and you stepped beside them first turning towards you boyfriend in acknowledgment.

"Hi there Kyotaro." Then you turned towards your president. "I'll be leaving now, I'll fill the documents home and bring it to you tomorrow." You informed before grabbing Kyotaro's hand and pulling him through the halls and to your locker.

Changing your shoes Kyotaro held out his hands towards you to make it easier for you and you gladly took it. Leaving some books behind you closed the locker and followed after your boyfriend, outside the school and on the way to your home.

While walking home you got thirsty and when you reached for the juice you had in your bag you were saddened as you saw it was empty.

"Oh, it's empty." You looked inside the bottle looking at it as if it would make it full again.

A few seconds later a freshly opened bottle of tea appeared in front of you.

"Here." Your boyfriend held it in your sight.

"Huh?" You were slightly confused but when he took the empty bottle from your hands and replaced it with the new one you smiled at him.

He put the empty bottle inside his bag while you took a few sips of the tea.

"Thanks Kyotaro." You said and kissed the underside of his jaw.

Kyotaro's breath hitched at the action you just pulled. He grabbed your bag and went a few steps in front of you so that you wouldn't notice the blush on his cheeks. Your smile grew and you ran up to him to walk beside him towards your home.

Taiga Tsugeura - piggyback rides when you're tired

You were used to spending your evening with Taiga in the Muscle Power Establishment. You frequently went out with your boyfriend and most of the time it was to go to his favourite restaurant. You usually picked up one of their drinks trying to test each flavour, while Taiga was eating some high-protein meals after his training.

This evening, you had some blackberry protein shake and you sipped it through the straw. Your boyfriend sat in front of you finishing his banana pound cake as you listened to him telling the stories of recent events happening around the town.

You had your chin propped on your hand observing your enthusiastic partner. But even though his voice was always so energetic you found yourself slowly blinking more and more often with time passing.

As you started yawning, Taiga noticed your tired expression and sleepy gaze. He finished his food and started gathering his things.

“Come on, (Y/n), let’s go home.” His voice was softer when he stood beside you and you turned to him not even noticing when he came to your side of the table.

“Hmm.. oh okay then.”

The two of you said bye to the owner of the small restaurant and started your way home. Moving slowly you bumped into Taiga's side with every other step and he eyed you worriedly hoping you wouldn't hurt yourself. It wasn't common for you to be so tired after a long day and he was concerned if you would make it home.

As another yawn left your mouth you felt Taiga grabbing your hand and stopping before you. He smiled at you before squatting down.

“Go on, I’ll take you home.”

“You sure?” You asked looking at him and he sent another smile your way from behind his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I can see you're tired. Besides, it’s like additional training for me.” He said trying to comfort you that he'd be alright.

You nodded and moved to his back. As you tried to position yourself more comfortably for him he stood up and bounced you on his back keeping a firm grip on your legs. Your hands immediately moved around his neck and your head fell on his shoulder.

"Taiga careful." You said near his ear and he laughed at your words.

"Sorry, sorry, are you comfortable now?"

"Yes, please tell me when you get tired, okay?" You asked but you knew he wouldn't tell you, still he confirmed with a nod and started walking in the direction of your home.

You felt so comfortable and warm leaning against his back that you soon closed your eyes. Taiga only noticed you fell asleep when he felt your head weighing on his shoulder. He squeezed your legs and continued towards your house with a smile, happy that he could help you when you were so exhausted.

3. Gift-Giving

Mitsuki Kiryu - giving him hair accessories and styling each others' hair

The fact that Mitsuki easily lost his pins was obvious to you and you were always carrying some spare ones in your pockets. In addition, whenever you were shopping and caught eye of some pretty hair accessories, that would suit him, you immediately bought them. With how many times that already happened, Mitsuki was used to receiving small gifts from you.

"Oh! These hairpins would match with the new cardigan Mitsu has." You muttered to yourself as you noticed the display in the shop you passed by.

Immediately you went in and looked through their accessories picking a few that you knew your boyfriend would like. With your hands full you went to the checkout and paid for everything, getting a small gift bag and placing everything inside.

You made your way towards your boyfriend's home with the package tightly held in your hand. As soon as you were close you sent him a message and when you rung the doorbell, the doors opened to Mitsuki who sleepily welcomed you and kissed your cheek.

Your smile grew and a small laugh left your lips as your eyes met his bedhair.

"Did I wake you up?" You asked as you sat down on the couch next to him.

His head fell on your shoulder and he shook his head.

"Not really, it was time to wake up anyway." Then his eyes followed to your hand and the small package.

"What's that? Did you find some new hairpins?"

"Yes." Your voiced echoed happily and he straighten up.

He took the gift you gave him and opened it checking the contents, he took everything out and laid it on the couch between you two. His fingers followed and touched each hairpin as he hummed to himself appraising them.

"Thanks, (y/n)." His lips met yours for a quick peck and you smiled in return.

"Would you like me to do your hair? We can use the new hairpins."

"Sure, babe. I'll go get the hairbrush." He said and quickly went to his room to collect the brush and comb.

When he came back he sat between your legs on the carpet. You then grabbed the brush from his hands and started running your fingers between his tresses as the hairbrush followed after. His hair was so soft and nice to touch you loved doing his hairstyles, especially after he confirmed that it felt really nice to have you play with his hair.

You spent the next couple of minutes pampering him and running your fingers through his hair styling it the way he usually wore it and putting a little too many hairpins in wanting to use as much of the ones you bought as you could.

4. Quality Time

Akihiko Nirei - thrift shopping together

You were searching through the aisles in the thrift shop looking for something that you or your boyfriend would like. It was like a habit of yours by now, every other week you'd visit some second-hand shop trying on different things and spending time together.

Moving to the next clothes hanger you noticed two colourful shirts, similar in style and kind of toned down on the patterns.

"They are perfect." You muttered to yourself and took them not even checking the size.

You then marched towards the changing rooms and knocked on one of the doors.

"Yes?" A familiar voice replied and you slowly opened the doors.

"I found the best thing ever, Aki look." Your voice echoed in the small fitting room and you shoved the two shirts in front of you.

Nirei straightened up after rolling up his pants he already noticed the shirts in the mirror but he still turned around and took one of the shirts, which was closer to his size, in his hands.

"It has nice colours, but why two?"

Your smile grew on your face as if waiting for that question. You bounced once on your feet as Akihiko took off his button-down to try on the one you brought.

"Well, it's pretty obvious. One is for you and the other one is for me." You said and he stopped when he put his hand inside the sleeve and your eyes connected in the mirror.

You observed his frozen posture and giggled as he stood in his T-shirt and half-dressed shirt. Hearing your words and giggles his face flushed red.

"Matching outfits." He softly whispered and you heard him only because of the close proximity to him.

"Yes, wouldn't it be cool?" You said as he slowly continued trying on the cloth.

"If you don't want to it's fine." You added and moved towards him to straighten the collar of the shirt and he watched your hands move.

"You look really good in this shirt, Aki."

He smiled at your compliment and muttered a small "Thanks."

"And I wouldn't mind if you were matching clothes with me." He added turning his head away from you trying to hide the red on his face but you could see it in the mirror making your smile grow fondly.

"Here, put on your jacket as well." You add taking the jacket he came in and he quickly put it on.

"Do I look like a bad boy in these clothes?" He questioned shyly looking at the mirror inside the changing room and fidgeting with the shirt.

"My handsome vigilante." Your lips touched his cheek and his eyes never left yours in the mirror while a small smile appeared on his face.

You then quickly put on the other colourful shirt and stood next to him, how lucky that it matched you perfectly. He showed you a double thumbs up meaning he also liked it on you.

"Come on my handsome bad boy, let's go pay for the clothes and go for some melon soda." You mentioned while taking off the shirt and he followed taking the clothes he chose and making your way towards the cashier.

Kotoha Tachibana - gardening together

Knowing how much Kotoha loved plants and you having a little free time decided to start gardening which seemed like a great way to relax and spent more time with her. She taught you a lot of things about the plants, including naming each plant you found cute and wanted to buy.

Every time Kotoha visited you, she knew you'd show off one of the plants you bought with her. But she didn't mind, she found your interest in one of her hobbies as a great and sweet gesture.

"Look at the lemon we bought last week, it already started to grow little lemons, so cute." You said excitedly bringing the big pot from the ground and holding it in front of you so she had a better view and didn't need to bow down.

"It seems like you're taking good care of it." She ran her fingers up some of the leaves and smiled at you.

"Of course, you were the one who taught me that."

You put the lemon down and took her hand walking a little further and onto the balcony.

"But the tomatoes are not doing that good." Your face fell and Kotoha thought she saw the imaginary puppy ears on your head drop down.

She stepped a little closer and crouched beside you examining the seedlings.

"Nah, I think they're good."

"They are nowhere as nice as the ones Umemiya-san has on his rooftop."

"Don't worry, you're doing great. Besides, I like your plants more." Your smile immediately got bigger and your eyes glimmered in happiness.

"Maybe don't mention it to Ume, because he'd be crestfallen." She added shortly after.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." You saluted her jokingly making her chuckle.

After drinking some tea and talking about your days, Kotoha proposed to help you with your Chamaedorea, which needed a bigger pot. The two of you moved towards the balcony where you already had the soil and a bigger pot ready. She crouched beside you and started instructing you on replanting the greenery that was becoming bigger and bigger with each month passing.

"Here." Kotoha took off her glove and swiped the little patch of soil from your cheek as soon as you were finishing the replanting.

"You have a little dirt on your face."

"Thank you." You smiled brightly at her and patted the ground in the pot.

"No problem, cutie." She kissed the tip of your nose and you flushed surprised.

Yes, taking gardening as a hobby was such a good idea.

5. Physical Touch

Hayato Suou - handholding anywhere and everywhere, no matter who sees it

The most surprising thing about Suou after you started dating him was his touchiness. To say that this characteristic of your seemingly stoic and calm boyfriend shocked you is an understatement.

At the beginning of your relationship you were baffled and so so flustered whenever it happened. Of course, you just weren't used to it and as time passed by you became more confident in sharing physical contact with Suou.

You took every chance you got to cuddle with him on the couch, be it studying or drinking some new tea, and you especially loved holding hands with him or just playing with his fingers.

Now, the only thing you were still trying to get used to was PDA. You were still quite hesitant to show off your relationship, especially in front of big crowds but somehow you found yourself marching through the street hand in hand with Suou.

He was talking about this new tea blend that he bought and promised to make it for you as soon as you got back and you smiled at him saying thanks.

Suddenly your talk got cut off by some strangers that came to you.

"Hello, we are doing some street interviews in English and were wondering if you'd like to answer some questions." The girl pointed at the camera as she spoke to you.

Seeing that you instantly tried to let go of Suou hand and hide in embarrassment but he just chuckled at you and tightened the grip on your hand.

"Sure, no problem." He said confidently and you hit his biceps.

"Suou, why?" You whined and he patted your head with his free hand before turning back to the girl.

"So let's start." She switched to English and you tried to hide behind Suou but you only got to partially stand behind his left side while you became flustered at the thought of people on the internet seeing you.

Answering question after question Suou tried to include you too and when you got nervous he would caress your hand with his thumb while holding it tightly.

As soon as you finished and said bye to the two strangers you pulled on his hand and continued towards his home.

"You did really good, darling." He said leaning towards you and placed a quick kiss on your cheek making you shiver at the contact and you quickly hid your smile behind your free hand.

[ellecdc]

Hii, love your work. Can you please do a poly!marauders were slytherin reader feels insecure because she got jealous ran she is not use to it as she is consider slithering royalty and all. Is okay if you don’t. Take care <3<3

thanks for requesting lovie!!

poly!marauders x fem slytherin!reader CW: hurt/comfort, insecurity & slight jealousy, fluff

You felt ridiculous. How could you have been so naïve? How could you have thought this would leave you feeling any other way than you were feeling right now?

You watched as Sirius threw his head back and let out a boisterous laugh, his neck on full display as his hair fell behind his shoulders. He looked beautiful like this – completely serene in his joy. James was laughing too; his eyes scrunched closed as he leaned into Remus’ side, teeth shining so bright against his beautifully tanned skin. Remus had a wonderfully mischievous smirk on his face as he looked on at Sirius, pulling James further into his side before firing off some no doubt witty remark that you couldn’t hear from where you were standing. It was met with another round of laughter.

You don’t know what the joke was, you don’t know what was so funny. You’re not sure you want to know anyway; feeling sick at the sight of the boys surrounded by Gryffindor girls.

It wasn’t the girls that bothered you; you liked them – a lot - and you hated that you liked them. They were sweet and funny and easy going and so not you. 

It was the easy familiarity that the boys had with them – the inside jokes, the years of having lived in the same tower, the friendships that fully preceded your relationship with the boys. 

You could never manage Lily’s quick-witted comebacks. You could never compare to Marlene’s boisterous and colourful storytelling. You could never be Mary’s easy confidence in the group. 

You’d never feel that comfortable, that casual, that at ease.

You felt like nothing.

Perhaps you were nothing...at least up here. You were all but royalty in the dungeons, but your notoriety didn’t follow you up to the Gryffindor tower.

You were such a fool.

You quickly turned on your heel and headed back the way you came. You’d only been to Gryffindor tower once before – and it was in the middle of the night after a party in the room of requirement. The boys had said they would leave the portrait open for you to join them after you finished tutoring the first years in Transfiguration. Perhaps you should have known better.

Perhaps you should have known better.

Things were different in the light of day. You were different in the light of day. Certainly, they’d see that – they’d all see it. You were a fraud, getting by on borrowed time. 

You should have known better.

You were waiting for the moving staircase when you heard your name being called.

“Hey Princess! Where’re ya headed?” James greeted as he caught up to you.

Your shoulders began to migrate up to your ears, embarrassed at getting caught sneaking off. 

“Erm, I was just headed to my dorm, actually.” You admitted shyly. You felt even more guilty when you saw James’ face fall slightly.

“You didn’t want to hang out with us?” He teased, but you couldn’t help but notice the slight anxiety in his voice, looking like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out to you.

“There you are, gorgeous!” Sirius called from down the hall as he approached with Remus – no doubt having chased after you more slowly than James had on Remus’ account. 

“Well? Come on then.” Remus said plainly as he held his hand out – for you to take or for you to hand him your book bag, you weren’t sure.

“Uhm, I-”

“She said she was heading back to her dorm.” James interjected.

Sirius scoffed. “Fat chance babe, you promised us a date! Come on, the girls are waiting for you.”

“For me?” You asked incredulously.

Remus seemed tired of holding his hand out for you, so he moved to take your bag from your grasp and pushed you into Sirius’ side who quickly hooked his arm in yours.

“’Course! They love hanging out with you. We told them they could hang with us for five minutes only though – then we get you all to ourselves.” He said shoving his nose into your jaw before finishing his sentence with a kiss to your cheek.

“I didn’t know they cared for me at all.” You admitted, more to yourself than to anyone else.

Remus hummed as he moved to walk on your other side, his hand not currently holding your book bag safely enveloped in James’. “Is that why you were running away before?”

You felt like you were going to melt into the stone floor out of pure shame “I wasn’t running...” You huffed.

Sirius scoffed at you again. “Sure; you never run, and James doesn’t strut. Come on dollface, why were you running from us?” 

“I... I wasn’t running from you.”

Remus nudged his shoulder gently against yours, forcing you to sway listlessly further into Sirius’ side. “Did you get a little too caught up in your own head again?”

Honestly, the ground could swallow you up at this point, thank you very much – you both loved and hated that these boys could read you like the back of a potions textbook. 

“I guess.” 

“Sweetheart.” James cooed at you before he stepped out in front of you, forcing everyone to come to a stop. “We talked about this, yeah? You’re supposed to tell us when you’re feeling like this.” He punctuated his words by rubbing your upper arms and bending down to force you to make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry.” You admitted, feeling embarrassingly close to tears.

“We don’t want you to be sorry, love. We want you to talk to us, that’s all. We care about you an awful lot – and so do the girls. We want you to feel comfortable with us.” Remus added softly. You groaned in response.

“But I can’t!” You stated perhaps more sharply than the moment called for. “I can’t.” You amended more softly.

“Can’t what, babes?” Sirius encouraged.

“I can’t be like you guys. Or your friends. I can’t be quick and funny, or loud and exciting, or confident and mellow. You are all the same, and I’m just...” you trailed off pathetically at the feeling of a tear fall from your lash line. 

“Oh, my love.” James cooed softly as he moved to wipe the offending tear from your face with his thumb.

“We don’t want you to be like us or them, dolly. Did you ever think about that?” Sirius questioned. You moved your dejected gaze to him. “Maybe we like you because you’re not like us; simply because you are the way you are.”

“I love how calm and collected you are all the time. Whenever the room feels too loud – I look for you.” James admitted.

“And I love how you’re always listening, even if you’re not actively participating in the conversation. I know you have smarter things to add to the conversation than the rest of us do, but you’re just as happy to let us flounder before one of us relents and asks you for your opinion.” Sirius said with a smirk.

“And I love how you’ve never once let your anger dictate how you behave. I’d go as far as to say you’ve never been angry, but I know everyone gets angry. So that just tells me that you are incredibly introspective, and face things with a clear mind.” Remus added.

“None of us are like that – none of us could ever be you.” James concluded with a gentle squeeze of your shoulder. 

You allowed their words to sink in before taking a shuddering breath and returning your gaze to them. “I’m sorry for running earlier.”

James offered you a lopsided smile. “Don’t be – just tell us next time, yeah?”

You quickly agreed with a nod of your head, and he moved in to press his lips to yours.

“We better hurry.” Sirius said, squeezing your hand twice in his. “Marlene’s dying to hear your stories about the silly little first years from your tutoring group. She couldn’t stop talking about how funny your stories were last time.”

Perhaps you had no reason to feel insecure at all. 

[luvsupa]

a/n: writing this bc uni just started for me and I hope this happens to me in class </3 (minus the embarrassing part)

choso sat in the back of the lecture hall, his oversized headphones blasting music so loud you could hear the faint beat, despite being seated right next to him. you tried to focus on the professor up front, but the heavy metal practically vibrated through your brain. with a huff, you paused your typing, your long acrylic nails hovering above the keys, and turned to look at him—now admiring his looks.

his head bobbed along with the music, thick fingers scribbling notes on his large ipad. his hands were adorned with chrome heart rings, matching perfectly with his facial piercings, and every time you saw him, he had on new jewelry that just made him… more attractive. this time, instead of his usual two buns, his hair was down, cascading past his shoulders. god, he looked good like that. you really wanted to tell him to keep his hair down more often, but just being near him made your heart race too fast to even speak.

he was all dressed in black, chunky doc martens completing his look, and you hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring at him until he paused his music, sliding one side of his headphones off to look at you. your heart stopped.

“is my music too loud?” he asked softly, his voice catching you completely off guard. it was… sweet? you blinked, your laptop screen dimming as it fell asleep, just like your focus.

“just a bit,” you mumbled, watching as he grabbed his phone, sliding down the volume with a smile that made your body melt.

“i like you…” the words slipped out before you could stop them.

choso froze, one hand halfway to his headphones, looking at you like you’d just confessed. which… you basically did.

“i-i mean, i like your outfit!” you squeaked, heat flooding your body as your hands became sweaty as you mentally slapped yourself. choso just stared, eyebrows raised.

“n-not that i wouldn’t like you!” you scrambled to explain, your voice lowering to avoid the stares from the people sitting nearby. “i-it just slipped out, i swear!”

choso’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he fully took off his headphones, leaning in slightly as if to hear you better. why not tease her, he thinks

“ohh, i see. so, you wouldn’t like me, huh? that’s a little harsh.” his voice took on a mock-hurt tone, but the teasing glint in his eyes was undeniable.

you gasped, totally falling for it. “no! i didn’t mean it like that! cho’, i’m so—”

wait.

you froze. did you just call him “cho’”? you definitely had never exchanged names, much less nicknames! your face drained of colour as choso smirked, clearly enjoying your panic.

“cho’?” he raised a brow, his lip piercing catching the light. “didn’t know we were close like that.” he chuckled, low and teasing. “but i don’t mind. it’s cute.”

you wanted to melt into the floor. the secondhand embarrassment from the other students was evident, and your heart was pounding too hard to think straight. you shot up from your seat, nearly knocking over your bag in your rush to escape. all eyes were on you as you bolted out the back of the classroom, face burning with mortification.

you sprinted to the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind you as you leaned against the sink. “oh my gosh,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. he was totally going to think you were a stalker now. you’d found his instagram before it went private, and you’d seen his younger brother yuji calling him “cho’” in the comments. you were doomed.

meanwhile, back in the classroom, choso couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. he found your flustered state adorable—he didn’t think you were creepy at all. in fact, he wished you’d stayed a little longer so he could keep teasing you. with a soft chuckle, he tore a piece of paper from his artbook from his bag and scribbled down his number quickly as he placed the torn paper on your laptop.

“you can always call me cho’ ;)”

[enwoso]

i have a request for awfc x teen reader

basically reader is quite a shy and anxious person who hates getting in trouble so they never speak up and always do as they’re told, even if it negatively impacts impacts them in some way e.g. helping clear up at the end of training even if it means they miss their bus home and have to walk. r also doesn’t talk much and therefore hasn’t made any friends on the team as they’re so shy. one of the older players (maybe kim or viv?) notice this and take reader under their wing to try and bring them out of their shell. basically just a very cute fluffy fic

YOUR NOT ALONE — arsenal wfc

i feel like this doesn’t really flow the way i wanted it to so soz if it’s choppy but enjoy!

masterlist

north london was were you lived, but it wasn’t home. home was in the north, nearly four hours away from london in manchester. that was home.

not london where you didn’t know anyone, where you were all alone at a new team.

and it wasn’t that you disliked north london, the people were actually quite nice and some days it was actually a lot warmer than living in the north. but nothing compared to being home in manchester. where your friends were, your family, your childhood club.

you in some way felt like you had been abandoned, you’d been let to go by man city your childhood club. a club you thought you’d be at until you retired but they didn’t even fight for you when arsenal put the deal in, they let you go as if you meant nothing to the club.

meaning when your first day at arsenal came around, you closed yourself off to everyone. you were already a pretty shy person to begin with but now trying to talk to you was like trying to draw blood out of a stone — impossible.

you kept yourself to yourself, and made sure you stayed out of trouble. helping the coaches tidy up after training even though it meant you missed the last bus that went past your apartment which would mean you would have to do the thirty minute walk back.

you would stay and watch were you could improve your game even though it meant you were pushing your self far too hard and then getting frustrated when you didn’t see the progress you wanted to see.

the team had began to notice your behaviour and had tried their best to involve you in everything possible but you were having none of it.

the most any of the girls had heard you talk was a light hum just acknowledge the person so it didn’t seem like you were being rude.

“we need y/n to be fully apart of the team as i think she feels like she is still and outsider” kim said thinking out loud as they watched you help the coaches pack up for the evening. picking up the coloured cones as you hummed on to whatever the coach was saying. you weren’t much of a talker.

“does she always do that?” leah asked as she looked towards kim and beth who nodded.

“she always offers, just like she always offers to fill everyone’s waters and other little things around the facility’s it’s like she does it just so she can avoid us” beth raised her eyebrows as the three took another glance over to you.

“i’ve tried just talking to her but she not really full of words” kim sighs as leah nods she had tried too along with a few others but nobody could seem to get more than a hum or a small smile out of you.

“she’s just a kid, it’s gotta be hard for her getting let go by her childhood club like she meant nothing and then to be in a place miles from her family, it’s natural that she’s not gonna be comfortable around us” viv butted in after hearing the trio talk about you, a few sympathetic nods being done from the three.

viv had been amongst those who had tried to talk to you, she hadn’t gotten many words from you but instead of asking the usual questions of how you finding london which made you want to scream every single time someone asked you as you had run out of ways to lie and say you were loving it.

instead viv asked about you wanting to know you on a personal level not just on the outside and what would be the obvious to ask.

“like leah cmon imagine how heartbroken you’d be if arsenal let you go after being here for so many years-“ viv pointed out as leah hummed feeling her heart pang a little. her blood was arsenal and she doesn’t think her heart would be able to handle if she was playing for another team.

“okay first of don’t put that in the open, but i can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling” a sad smile rushed over leah’s features as viv nodded.

“exactly”

“why don’t you take her under your wing vivvy, she’s said in countless interviews that she looks up to you. so i’m sure if there’s anyone who would be able to crack her shell it would be you-“ beth put the idea into the open, now viv wasn’t opposed to the idea but she also didn’t want to overwhelm you cause that could push you further from the team.

“i’ll try”

the next day had came and gone, viv had been watching you throughout the day trying to pick the best time to chat to you but a good time never seem to come around. viv telling herself tomorrow she would do it

viv had stayed late to chat with the physio about her knee, the rest of the team long gone as training had finished already. well so she thought.

“hey kleintje what you doing here so late? training finished an hour ago?” viv asked as you looked up from your phone, you were watching your few minutes from the last match you played. analysing each pass, each touch, each movement to see what you could work on next.

“missed my bus” you mumbled very quietly viv almost missed what you said. viv nodded to herself as she took a seat next to you on the bench peering over slightly at what you were concentrating so hard on.

“that’s a stupid thing to do” viv blurted out, immediately regretting it when your head snapped up with a puzzled look on your face, a frown flashing across your lips.

“well cause all you doing is focusing on the negatives” viv shrugged as you still held the same look on your face, “like don’t get me wrong it’s helpful but i bet you, you have twice as many negatives in your head than positive things you did in the match” viv continued as you slowly nodded, she wasn’t exactly wrong.

“but how will i know how to get better if i don’t focus on what needs to be improved?” you asked quietly, your phone falling into your lap. viv was a little shocked, not by the question but by the fact that you hadn’t just hummed at her.

“cause you end up focusing on trying to get the bad better that the what was good starts to get bad and you enter a cycle that you can’t get out of” viv explains as you do your signature hum, you weren’t just thinking about football now.

you were thinking about how your life had changed in the past months and how much you had focused on the bad and never gave it a second thought about what was good.

“so your saying i should focus on the positives?” you trailed off staring into the distance in front of you as viv nodded, not that you saw it.

“yeah, your not alone y/n. we’re a team. we’re here to help you” viv pointed out, “and that’s not just with your football skills either” she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers a smile tugged at your lips nodding alone to what viv was telling you.

“thanks viv” you smiled sincerely, you felt as though your eyes had really been opened and you hadn’t have your self a chance at your new chapter, you hadn’t gave london a chance yet.

“no problem kleintje, now come on let’s get you home. it’s getting late”

it had been a few weeks since the conversation between kim, leah, beth and viv and progress had definitely been made. viv had managed to take you under her wing, showing you the ropes introducing you slowly to others so that it didn’t overwhelm you.

you had started to come out your shell more, you didn’t sit by yourself anymore at lunch or on the bus.

instead you’d found yourself sitting steph and kyra for lunch as you discussed your dream holiday of one day going to australia as they gave you recommendations as well as promising that when you do finally go they will happily be your tour guides.

and on the bus during away day you’d found yourself sitting with lotte quite a few times, the way she spoke was similar to viv it was wise words and someone you could listen to for a while as well as lotte being able to sit and listen to you and give you good advice if you truly needed it.

it was game day today, as you walked into the ground with viv. having gotten a ride from viv and beth to save you from having to get the bus. beth had spotted steph and leah in front, running off towards them.

“so do you think london could start to be home?” viv asked, her heart beating a little harder as she asked the question. the topic of london being your home still being very raw.

“it’s becoming home, it’s not quite there yet-“ you paused as some worry came over viv as she began to stutter.

“-but i think it will be home” you finished with a smile as you looked up at viv a sigh of relief coming over her as she swung her arm around your shoulder pulling you in a little tighter for a side hug.

“kleintje you had me worried for a minute but i’m glad your starting to feel more comfortable here, just remember your not alone. we’re a team for a reason” viv nudged you as you nodded taking in every word viv told you as you walked into the stadium.

“got it”

“anyways are you excited about your first start? imagine you score-“ viv said with a hopeful look as you slightly shook your head. you were happy about the start but scoring wasn’t the main focus of today. you were just happy to be getting minutes instead of the scrappy ten final minutes you were used to at the moment.

“excited, nervous? the goal won’t happen though so don’t get you hopes up” you dismissed as viv rolled her eyes playfully opening a door for you to go through.

“gotta have the belief kleintje!”

and maybe somewhere you had some belief cause that’s exactly what happened. you scored your first goal for arsenal, when the ball hit the net you froze. you were expecting for it to go over but when it didn’t you didn’t know what to do.

reality was brought back to you when you were surrounded by your teammates who were lifting you up in a circle as the crowd cheered. a big smile on your face as you looked around spotting vividly on the bench and sending her a knowing look as you tapped the your chest where the arsenal badge was. viv giving you a knowing nod that she understood.

your teammates lifted you down back onto the ground as they all patted you on the back or the head as you soaked up the moment a little longer walking back to your starting position.

“we’re so proud of you, our superstar!”

“get in y/n”

looking around and seeing the fans chanting and having a good time it felt for the first time since you made the big move you felt like you weren’t alone, these people that you were lucky enough to call your teammates and friends were your new family.

and maybe just maybe arsenal and north london was your new home and you weren’t mad at the idea.

in fact you loved the idea.

yourusername

liked by bethmead and 629,015 others

yourusername forever grateful for my found family❤️🤍

comments

viviannemiedema we love you kleintje!!

leahwilliamson our superstar ⭐️

kyracooneycross yeahhh for our very own 🌟

[gay-dorito-dust]

Maybe hook x reader where she is like sunshine reincarnated like she’s so bubbly

Hook never understood how you could be so energetic and bubbly all the time, but yet it was because you were the way that you are that has lead him into adoring you in the first place unashamedly.

You saw things in a brighter hue of colour than he did and greeted others with a smile that it outshone any and all the stars that hung in the night sky above Merlin Academy.

It was due to your sweet and bubbly persona that made Hook more weary of the people that tried so hard to associate with you for one reason or another, he didn’t wish for your kindness to be seen as a weakness to be exploited.

So he’d often acts as your personal guard dog and scared off those who sought you out for their own personal agenda by flashing his hook along with a couple of vague threats before watching with pride as they ran with their tails firmly tucked between their legs.

‘James.’ You’d say.

Hook smiles as he crosses over to you and holds you close as he uses the back of his hook to trace your jawline. ‘Now before you say anything dearest, did I mention that I adore the sparkle in your eyes whenever you see something or hear something you love, or the way you’d grab my arm and squeeze it when you could hardly contain your excitement before dragging me along your escapades.’ He says sweetly as your pout was quick to become a growing smile as you found yourself unable to be mad at him for long periods of time.

‘You are temporarily forgiven.’ You’d tell him as he raises brow at you.

‘Only temporarily?’ He gasps, holding both hand and hook to his chest, closing his eyes as though in pain, ‘darling you wound me.’ He adds, opening one eye to look at you adoringly as you laugh at his dramatics before playfully swatting his bicep.

‘Okay you’re fully forgiven. I shall pardon your actions today because I can never seem to remain upset at you, captain handsome.’ You said as hook hummed at your new nickname for him. ‘Captain handsome?’ He rests on his tongue, ‘is there a joke somewhere in that I’m missing sweetheart.’ He adds as he rests his forehead against yours.

‘No,’ you giggle as you peppered hook’s face in kisses, much to his delight. ‘Just wanting an excuse to call you handsome.’ You add cheekily before squealing when he pulls you in by the waist and steals a kiss from your lips, smiling.

James Hook refused to share you, his beloved darling. with anyone else. You were his greatest treasure, his friend, his confidant but most importantly his love and he’d be damned if he lets that fool Peter Pan -who had been eying you for a while- to have you when you were his to have and to hold for as long as he could.

For you were the light he was refused from accepting but now he’d happily watch as you spread your love, happiness and joy to all you thought needed it most however you could. You were warm again this skin in more ways then one, your soul burned brightest when you were making others happy or relieving them of their stresses.

Hook may not value the same things as you did but that didn’t mean he couldn’t admire your valiant efforts to help as many people as you could, all the while smiling that gorgeous smile of yours while doing so.

You were his sunshine and he wasn’t about to let anyone take you away. Safe to say you warmed his cold heart back to life, and while your bubbly nature could often leave him with a need to keep you safe form those who thought this insinuated your nativity, when in actuality it emphasised your emotional intelligence in comparison to others who didn’t feel that same level of comfortably yet.

James hook would always be proud of his partner who was nothing short of sunshine incarnated in human form.

Warm, welcoming, and above all kind.

[softmiso]

warm ways | steve harrington x reader

summary: you and steve enjoy an afternoon together while on vacation in the south of france.

tags/warnings: smut (18+, mdni!), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, squirting, unprotected piv sex, creampie, cock warming, established relationship, fem!reader

word count: ~1k

a/n: inspired by rohmer's a summer's tale. regular text size and capitalization under the cut.

cross-posted on ao3

Somewhere in the south of France, 1989

You woke up in a room illuminated only by the warm colours of the sunset. As you slowly roused from your slumber, you felt the trace of lips on your neck. Steve was still spooning you, just as he had been when the two of you laid down for what was meant to be a quick nap. You hummed in delight at the feeling of him mouthing at your neck, teeth grazing and tongue soothing the supple skin.

“Sleep well, honey?” He spoke quietly.

“Mhmm,” you replied sleepily, turning around to see him. You gently raised a hand to his face, thumb stroking his cheek. The sun had left his skin bronzed and starry with freckles. The two of you had spent the day roaming around the small seaside town, admiring the scenery, and taking in the salt-laden air. It was a beautiful day. However, nothing could compare to the view laid in front of you.

“So pretty, Stevie,” you said softly. At that, his eyes softened. The brown irises were almost golden in the sunlight.

“Says you,” he replied, giving you a quick peck on the lips. Before he could pull back fully, you chased the feeling. Your lips connected once again. Delicately, his tongue prodded at your lips, and you allowed him entry. Your tongues danced together, and you could still taste traces of the oranges you two had eaten earlier.

Steve moaned into the kiss, all the while moving his leg to fit between both of yours. A whimper escaped your throat at the feeling of his bare leg pressed against your clothed heat. Hands tangled in his hair, you tugged gently. It was a habit you had developed when you wanted more, and it didn’t go unnoticed. He pulled away, giving you a few more pecks as the kiss slowed.

“Feeling needy, huh?” A slight smile danced across his lips. You nodded, dazed. “Words.” He reminded you.

“Wanna feel you, Stevie,” you spoke, “need it so bad.”

“I got you, honey, don’t worry,” he said as he rolled over to lay between your legs. You could now feel his growing bulge, the feeling spurring you on even more.

He kissed you once more before beginning his descent down, down, down to where you needed him most. Slowly, he slid your bathing suit bottoms down your legs, discarding them somewhere you didn’t care to know.

Two fingers slid between your folds, presenting your clit to him. He leaned down, kitten licking experimentally at your bud before sucking more harshly. Your hands found purchase in his hair once again, and you brushed it back so that you could truly look at him. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he continued his ministrations, alternating between licking and sucking.

You felt your hole clench around nothing, and as if reading your mind, Steve slipped a long finger into you. He curled it up, reaching that spongey spot within you, and you could feel that familiar spark beginning to grow in you, along with something a bit less familiar.

“Steve, ngh,” you tried to get your words out when he suddenly added a second finger, “feels too good, I–”

“Just let go, baby,” he said quickly, “let go f’me.”

The spark grew into a flame that licked at your insides until you could no longer take it. Your orgasm engulfed you and you felt a strange, but not unwelcome, release. You looked down to see Steve, cheeks flushed, and chin drenched in your fluids.

“Fuck,” he gasped, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, “just squirted for me, baby.” You went to cover your face in your hands, but he caught your wrists softly.

“Don’t hide from me,” he said, “that was amazing.” He continued, pinning your hands above your head. He left a small kiss on the tip of your nose. As he pulled back, he searched your eyes, but you were still feeling hazy.

“Think you can take me after that?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whispered, “want you.” He let go of his hold on your wrists to slide his swim trunks down. He took his length into his hand, giving it a few strokes. A bead of precum glistening at the ruddy tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Soon enough, he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He stilled when he bottomed out, and you whined.

“God, you’re so tight after you cum,” he spoke, voice raspy, “can barely handle it.” Once he’d regained his composure, he set a delectable pace. His cock glided between your walls tenderly, accompanied by just the right amount of stretch.

The room was filled with pants, moans, and the sound of skin slapping. When you thought you couldn’t feel any better, Steve brought your leg up, hooking your ankle over his shoulder. At this angle, you felt everything so much more intensely, and you could feel that spark growing once more.

Steve could tell you were close, bringing a thumb down to circle your clit messily. A few more strokes, and you were cumming once again, walls clenching around him rhythmically. The flame, now dying down within you, sparked something in him. His strokes became sloppier, his arms trembling as he tried to hold himself up. You brought a hand up to the side of his face.

“Cum for me, Stevie,” you pleaded.

And he did.

He pushed his hips into yours as close as humanly possible, while rope after rope of his cum painted your insides.

Finally, he stilled, bringing your leg back down and resting his head on your shoulder. You stroked his back until he finally came to. He started to pull out, but you grabbed his bicep, stopping him.

“Can we just stay like this for a little bit?” You asked gingerly.

“Of course,” he said, “just wanna be full of me, yeah?” You nodded, biting your lip.

The moon slowly revealed itself, casting its gentle light across your forms. The sound of the waves from outside the window lulling you both back to sleep.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[darkeunology]

♡ Say You'll Remember Me ♡

Word Count: 3428

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal sex, drinking, fingering, Oral sex F! receiving, one night stand, happy ending I promise.

Summary: You and Derek hook up one night, both being devastated that he forgot to leave you his number the next morning, neither of you able to forget the lines of the other's body.

This is my second entry for the CM kink bingo, I haven't actually written proper smut in a while, so i apologize if it's bad at all.

Prompts used, Drinking/Drunkenness, One Night Stand

It was an extremely rare occasion when you would be caught in the club. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d been out, going out once or twice in uni and just being put off of it almost completely, it wasn’t that you hated it, it just wasn’t something you desperately went out of your way to do, especially once university was fully underway - studying forensics and psychology was a full time course and you just didn’t have the time or energy to actually doll yourself up to be able to go out, rather wanting to sit and read a book or watch a movie to relax from the stress of University. 

After university you went into a career with the FBI, starting out as a basic agent, but your aspirations being with the BAU, so when you eventually passed all the training with flying colours and you were made an agent of the BAU, your friends decided that it meant a celebration at a local club was required. You’d come out from a meeting with the unit chief, Agent Hotchner, the rest of the team unfortunately not being in the office for you to meet until your official start day in two days, and you were almost immediately swept up by your friends, going back to yours to get ready, being more dolled up than you had in a while, having a few glasses of wine in the peace of your apartment before heading off to the chaos of the club. 

On the taxi ride over, you decided that you were going to drink as much as you could tonight within your limits and actually try to have a good time out with your friends. All of you having some strong drinks the moment you walked into the building, before going onto the dance floor with drinks in hand. 

What you were unaware of, was that, only a few feet away from you, sitting at one of the booths, were a few members of your team, JJ, Emily, Derek and Garcia, all of which were having a fun night out on their days off, putting work behind them for the night. 

After a while of going back and forth between the dance floor, the bar and your own booth, you were feeling amazingly tipsy, enough that you still knew everything you were doing and still had your inhibitions intact, you went back out onto the dance floor, you and one of your friends walking past the booth where Derek was currently sat, his eyes watching you as you walked past, your laughs with your friend peaking his interest. The team just laughed as they watched his attention divert to you, knowing what Derek could be like sometimes. 

“I’ll be back in a moment.” Derek spoke, causing the team to chuckle even more as he slid out of the booth, walking over to where you were dancing, having been joined by another of your friends. He started dancing behind you, coming up next to you as he spoke, “Can I dance with you?” he asked, not wanting to freak you out and just dance with you without asking. He noticed your friends giving you certain teasing looks, and he noticed the shy smile on your face, 

“Sure.” you replied, your focus now fully on Derek instead of your friends, who had then decided to leave the two of you alone, moving away so they were close enough to keep an eye on you, just in case, but far enough away that you had a little bit of privacy. The two of you moved your bodies closer to each other so you’d be able to hear each other over the loud music. Your hand went to one of Derek’s shoulder, both of his going to your hips, both of you moving together to the music, 

“What’s your name, handsome.” you spoke, your lips close to his ear so he’d be able to hear you. 

“Derek.” he spoke, smirking lightly at you as your bodies moved together, every part of you touching each other. 

“Y/N.” you told him, easily moving your body in sync with  him, both of you sinking into the feeling of each other, the rest of the room flooding away from you. 

Both of you lost track of time as you danced with each other, your bodies staying glued together the whole time, Derek often had your back to him, his hands guiding your hips into his, his mouth laying chaste kisses to your neck, 

“I think it’s time to go back to one of our places, don’t you?” He asked you after a while, the sexual tension between the two of you now palpable, you turned around to look at him, nodding your head as you did, 

“I live only five minutes away from here.” you told him, his smirk growing at your words. 

“Let’s go then mama.”

—----

After a swift taxi ride - the two of you were too drunk to drive Derek’s car and you both didn’t want to walk - you arrived at your apartment, both of you shedding your clothes pretty much as you walked through the door. You knew that your apartment wasn’t the cleanest right now after having your friends round for the past few hours, but with Derek’s lips fervently on yours, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now. 

You were the one to break the kiss, purely so you could actually walk the two of you to your bedroom without tripping over anything, only connecting your lips once again after you’d made it into the bedroom, Derek’s hands working deftly to unbutton his shirt before throwing it off and into the corner of your room. Your lips broke from his to catch your breath for a moment and you practically fawned at the definition of his body, how did you manage to get lucky enough to have this greek god in your bed tonight you had no idea but you were so thankful for it. 

Following Derek, you stripped off your shirt, your skirt already off, Derek’s hands coming to your hips after you’d done so, pulling your body close to him as his lips fell to your jaw, running deftly down to your neck before hitting your shoulder, kissing right next to where your bra strap currently sat. His hands snuck round to your back as his lips connected to yours once again, even after only knowing him for a few hours, you could never get sick of these kisses, you already hoped this wouldn’t be the last time you saw Derek, you were addicted to the man in front of you. His hands worked at almost lightning speed to undo your bra, his hands helping pull it off you before his hands moved to your breasts, a small goran escaping his lips as he groped them, “God you’re gorgeous.” he spoke, his voice an octave lower than you’d heard him be earlier, this alone made heat flood through you, the amount of lust in his eyes increasing that. 

It was almost like your voice didn’t work anymore, only a small giggle spilling past your lips at Derek’s compliment. He pulled you over to the bed, gently pushing you down on it, his body crawling over yours as you shifted yourself to the top of your bed. His hands reached down, his fingers trailing along your body leaving goosebumps in their wake, he stopped as he got to the waistband of your underwear, “You still sure?” he asked, wanting to make sure you were still onboard with doing this, both of you were drunk but only just, still able to make sound decisions that you wouldn’t regret in the morning. 

“I’m sure.” you panted out, your body arching up to Derek’s, “Please, just touch me. Please” you practically begged, the desperation dripping in your voice, 

Derek chuckled, “Alright mama” he ducked his head down to place his lips on yours again, your lips moving in sync to begin with before a gasp rocked through your mouth as his hand went under your underwear, his fingers deftly starting to rub your clit, after the initial pleasure and shock at his hands, you kept on kissing him, your lips moving sloppier than they previously had, his lips muffling the moans coming out of you. 

Derek moved away from you for a moment, chuckling as you whined at his warmth moving away from you, “Don’t worry mama, I’m just getting these out of the way.” he spoke gently as he pulled your underwear down your legs, throwing them off to the side, before he was back on top of you, his hand right back to where it was before, working quickly to try to get you to your high. Carefully he slipped one finger downwards, slipping it inside of you with ease, “So wet for me.” he chuckled, his lips moving to your jaw before moving down your body, moving until he was slotted in between your legs, his lips leaving feather kisses on your inner thighs, before moving closer to your core, his lips brushing your clit for a moment before he latched on, two of his fingers now working inside of you whilst his mouth worked wonders on you. You couldn’t silence the moans you were producing, your hand going down to Derek’s head as your hips ground down into his face. He hummed around your clit sending shockwaves through you, 

“Derek, I’m gonna-” you couldn’t finish your comment before you felt your orgasm flood through your body, Derek helping you ride through it. You were slightly embarrassed that you’d never managed to cum that quickly before but this man had done it easily. 

“Good girl.” Derek mumbled as he rose from your body, leaving some chaste kisses to your thighs and stomach as he rose up, quickly stripping off his boxers, his hand stroking his erection for a moment before moving back on top of you. “You doin’ okay honey?” he asked, one hand coming up to brush your cheek, 

“More than okay.” you confirmed, your hands running along his shoulders, “Please” you whispered, wanting him to fuck you already. 

He just chuckled as he sat back up to give himself a better angle, lifting your hips to meet his, his hands gently caressing your thighs, making sure to keep you relaxed as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you, groaning lightly as he watched himself disappear inside of you, waiting until you were okay before he started moving. Once you’d nodded at him, his grip on your hips tightened as he started moving, small moans spilling out your lips without constraint. Derek took this as confirmation that he could speed up, now leaning down to be able to plant kisses on your jaw as he kept thrusting faster. 

Derek normally lasts a lot longer than he was right now, only going for a few minutes before he could feel himself about to finish. He reached one hand down to begin playing with your clit again, wanting you to cum before he did, “Please don’t stop.” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly at the pleasure running through you, 

“I won’t honey. Cum for me” he whispered in your ear, biting it lightly as you were pushed over the edge by his fingers, moaning into Derek’s ear as your high started, Derek quickly following suit, groaning deeply as he finished inside of you, chuckling after a moment as he looked up at you seeing the fucked-out expression on your face.

Carefully, he pulled out of you, standing from his place on the bed, “I’ll be back in a sec, honey.” he spoke gently, walking out of your bedroom, finding your bathroom after a moment, managing to find something he could help clean you up with, wetting a hand towel he found before coming back to the bedroom, finding you in the exact same position he left you in, he chuckled slightly, 

“What?” you asked, looking up at him as he came over to help clean you up, then himself, 

“You’re just gorgeous.” he spoke quietly, throwing the towel onto the floor before crawling up next to you in bed, pulling your body into his, both of you managing to fall asleep relatively quickly after the night you’d had. 

—----

You woke up the next morning, stretching out as the sunlight streamed in through your window, your arm stretched out, finding the bed next to you empty. You sighed lightly, being slightly sad at the fact that Derek hadn’t stayed for the morning but honestly expecting that to happen, after all it was just a one night-stand right, why would he stay for the morning. Instead of feeling too sad about it, you decided to get up and just get on with your day as you normally would, today was your last day before you’d be in your new job, so you planned to do pretty much nothing all day, sitting in front of the television watching junk for most of the day. You stopped in your tracks once you go to the coffee table in the lounge, seeing a sheet of paper placed there that wasn’t there before, 

Sorry Doll,

Had to run out to work. 

Derek

Sighing lightly, you flopped down on the couch, whilst yes, he’d at least left you a note, he hadn’t left his number on it, meaning you had no idea how you’d be able to get in contact with him again. 

Derek only realised once he’d gotten to work that he hadn’t left his number on the not he’d left this morning, 

“Shit.” he muttered to himself whilst making his coffee, catching Emily’s attention next to him, 

“What’s wrong?” She asked concerned, 

His head snapped towards hers, “Nothing, just realised something, don’t worry.” he told her, not wanting to dive into details with his team about you.

“Where did you disappear off to last night?” she asked, a smirk now replacing the concern that was previously on her features. 

“Now, why would I tell you that?” Derek smirked back as he sauntered back off to his desk. The team hadn’t been given a case today, instead just being given masses of paperwork to do. He sat back at his desk, trying to get his thoughts off of you and onto the files in front of him.

–

You couldn’t focus. You’d spent the last hour tidying up your house, but now that your mind wasn’t busy, you couldn't focus. You’d scanned through every channel on the tv, even tried watching some of your favourites, but you just couldn’t get your mind off of Derek, the way his hands ran across your body, the way he brought you to an orgasm quicker than you ever could yourself, the way his lips moulded against yours, the little groans he’d spill into your ears. Every single thing about him was bothering you, making you just as hot and desperate as you were the night before. 

Derek was just the same, as much as he tried to focus on his work, he just wasn’t able to. His mind just kept running back to you, the way your body felt under his, the way you felt around him, the lust in your eyes, the way you’d beg him. You were driving him crazy and he didn’t even leave you his number when he left, how could he be so stupid. 

“I fucked up babygirl.” he spoke as he walked into Penelope’s office, catching her attention from the screen she was just looking at, 

“What happened? Are you okay?” She spoke, worry clear in her voice. 

“I went home with someone last night.” He began, perching himself on the edge of one of Penelope’s desks.

“So that’s where you went last night” she interrupted with a giggle, 

He rolled his eyes at her playfully, “Yeah, yeah. I don’t want to hear it.” he playfully swatted her arm lightly,

“Okay, okay,” she raised her hands in a surrender, “How did you fuck up? What happened?” 

“I forgot to leave my number this morning when I left for work. I just left a note saying I had to go to work,” he paused for a moment, seeing Penelope’s reaction, she looked disappointed, “Stupid, I know. But now I can’t get her out of my head, every little thing about her is just flooding my brain and I can’t do anything.” he finished, 

“Oh honey.” Penelope spoke, genuine sympathy in her voice, “if you remember where she lives, you might be able to go round after work,” 

“I was sleep deprived when I left early this morning, I might know the general location but not much else.” he replied, he knew it was worth a chance though. “I’ll go after work, see if I can remember.”

Derek was interrupted by a knock on the door, “We have a case.” Hotch spoke as he opened the door after confirmation he could come in, “Meeting room, now” he finished, leaving the door open as he left. 

“Duty calls.” Derek spoke, placing his hand out for Penelope to use to help her get up, letting her walk out first before he followed, closing the door behind him. 

—

Thankfully you’d managed to shower this morning you thought to yourself as you rode in the elevator up to the BAU office, Hotch had called you half an hour ago, telling you that whilst he knew your first day wasn’t until tomorrow, but they had a new case that had just come up and was wondering if you could get into work now so you could actually start since he didn’t know how long this case would take. You’d said yes immediately, hoping that actually being at work would help you get the thoughts of Derek out of your mind. Hotch told you he’d wait in the office for you to be able to take you down to the jet since you didn’t know where it was yet. 

–

Hotch had explained the case they’d just received, women being tortured and killed in an increasingly quicker pattern, the local PD wanting you there as soon as possible, he’d explained that he’d be a little late coming to the jet as a new agent would be joining them and he would meet them at the office, the new agent was currently the talk of the team, none of them other than rossi knowing that they’d even added a new agent to the team. 

“I haven’t met her, but Hotch says she’s great.” Rossi spoke, still reading through the case file. 

Talk was finished when Hotch walked onto the jet with you following close behind, he took his seat, motioning at you to do the same. “Everyone this is Y/N, L/N. She’s the new agent.” You smiled at everyone, only faltering once you’d gotten to Derek, 

“Derek?” you spoke, disbelief in your tone, 

“You know each other?” Emily asked, her curiosity evident, she smirked at Derek, almost knowing already how you two knew each other, 

“Uh, yeah we do.” Derk chuckled, amazed that it was you sitting in front of him. 

“We can talk about that later, let’s run through the case again for Y/N.” Hotch spoke. 

Once the case had been talked about enough, you all went to what you wanted to do, your attention going to Derek, and his going straight to you. What neither of you knew was so did Emily’s, JJ’s and Spencer’s attention went to the two of you, the three sitting close enough to hear you both, 

“I’m sorry I didn’t leave my number. I really meant to, I just rushed and forgot. I realised the moment I got to work.” Derek explained, hoping you wouldn’t think he did it on purpose, 

“I’d hoped that was the case.” you spoke, your cheeks heating up,

“Definitely.” he spoke again. He leant forwards, honestly not caring if any of the team were watching as he took your hands in his, looking at you with a dopey grin on his face, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” he admitted, 

“Neither have I. Haven’t been able to focus all morning.” you told him, suddenly getting shy, 

“Well how about, after the case is over, I take you out to dinner.” he offered, 

“I’d really like that.” you confirmed, thankful that Derek just happened to be the one you met the night before and who was now your colleague.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 2

Moniker: Farah Risk Level: Low. Farah has never been detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Loss of virginity, virginity kink. Safeword: Refer to first brief.

I trust Farah fully, she will look after you. I’ll be watching - Price

“Still doing ok? Think your hymen is pretty thin, so you might tear a little” Farah asked, her finger slowly pressing up inside of you.

You liked her, she was gorgeous in casual lounge wear and had greeted you warmly. The room was set up similarly to yesterday but now with colourful drapes enclosing the bed like a warm cocoon and a table set up full of snacks and water. There was the faint scent of coconut from the oil she had liberally applied on her fingers and your pussy. It was very relaxed.

But then again she had also ordered you out of your clothes in the first 30 seconds and got her finger inside you as soon as you were bare.

“Yeah, I’m ok.”

“Hm, and this?” she said while her thumb gently swept across your clit.

You sucked a sharp breath through your teeth. Still sensitive.

“Ah, I thought it looked a little tender. Soap is an animal” she said fondly. “I’ll be kinder. This is a gift you’re giving me and I’m not in the business of hurting those who give me gifts.”

She leaned over and pressed a quick, almost innocent peck to your sore clit and slowly pumped her finger as she sat back up and grabbed a strawberry off of one of the plates with her other hand. She was beautiful stretching over like that, but my God you did not know why how casual she was about a finger inside you was making you hot.

“Eat habibi, you need to relax.”

The strawberry burst in your mouth and you chewed slowly before swallowing, a pleasant sweetness left behind. She quite literally had you eating from the palm of her hand by the time she added a second finger.

You couldn’t quite decide how it felt. You’d tried it yourself sure, but honestly since your aim was always just to get off you usually didn’t go anywhere near your hole unless it was to gather up some lubrication. It had been strange having a tongue inside you, but the fingers were so much longer and able to stroke differently than Soap’s tongue had.

They kept brushing against what you assumed was your hymen. You hadn’t expected it to be in tact to be honest, you knew there was every likelihood it would have torn or stretched out already just with life. It didn’t really matter to you whether or not you bled when you lost your virginity. To be honest you just wanted it gone because while you understood it was a dumb social construct, that didn’t stop your brain from getting weird about it.

“You’re so tight” Farah said, the edge of a groan in her voice. “But you’ll take me so well. They raise little girls into women who think it is supposed to hurt, who have a voice telling them they are supposed to suffer to prove their worth.”

She curled one finger up and it rubbed against the top of your channel, searching for something.

“It is my privilege to undo the damage for those woman. I will fuck such pride into you that you will never know that voice again.”

It felt like a lightning bolt when her finger found what it has been searching for. She pressed up against the top of your channel and it felt like she had set you on fire as your legs spasmed at the sensation.

“There we are! It’s good that you’re sensitive here, not everybody is” she said, obviously pleased but still so shockingly casual about the whole thing as she smiled and planted a kiss on the tip of your nose. “It gives me some idea of angles for you, maybe today we won’t even need to touch you on the outside to have you peak.”

You wanted to whine at her for being so unaffected, so perfectly calm and collected in her soft sweats and hoodie.

Meanwhile Price was grinning like a madman watching Farah Karim be so fully affected by you on the cameras. She did not treat just anyone with such care, did not share small affections so easily. And she certainly did not struggle to smother the underlying groan of appreciation in her voice unless she was deeply, truly and entirely affected.

How could she not be? She didn’t hide her love of virgins. There was something about the trust it took to give that up to her, to let her slowly, painstakingly open you up so she could nestle inside you. She couldn’t wait to see how wet you made her strap, how sweetly your hole would clench around it. Her body would not take it’s pleasure from that weighty silicone, for virgins she did not pick a harness designed to stimulate her as well. The rush from knowing she was claiming something that society placed such a heavy weight on, the almost ritualistic feeling of the whole affair, that was what she wanted. Her pleasure could come later.

She was content to take her time, make sure your inexperienced pussy was nice and relaxed and welcoming. It wasn’t so different from taming a skittish animal, she had to make sure it felt safe enough to begin craving affection.

“That’s it, do you feel that? How your muscles are relaxing and you’re starting to loosen up for me? You’re doing perfectly habibi” she praised.

Oh her voice was so silky that it felt like it was caressing you, sliding against your skin. You felt how your body became more receptive, how your pussy began to massage around her two fingers as they scissored out to increase the stretch. You wanted more you realised. You couldn’t quite believe it, but you wanted more.

Maybe it was wrong of you, but you’d never quite understood the hype. The idea of someone pushing inside you, tearing part of you and then humping themselves into you over and over to seek their pleasure while you tried to adjust to the pain made you feel a little queasy. You so wanted to just get that first experience over with, were so certain it would be awful.

Now? Now you felt languid and warm. It wasn’t the frenzied heat that Soap had you in the day before, rather a slow, decadent sort of heat. One that only drizzled itself further over you as Farah fed you more ripe fruit that burst on your tongue.

“Farah?”

“Hm?”

“I would like you to take it. Take me.”

You were surprised by your own steady calmness, but it felt right. It felt like you had just figured out a part of who you were. It didn’t make you anxious to ask for what you wanted, didn’t have your body tensing. If anything it made you feel more free.

“It would be an honour” Farah answered with full sincerity as she slowly pulled her fingers from you and brought them to your mouth.

It felt natural to clean them off. Not awkward, not scandalous. Just natural, like her fingers belonged in your mouth with your tongue sensually snaking around them. You liked how you tasted on her.

“Keep yourself loose for me habibi” she said before kissing you quickly and going to strap up.

The kiss made your head spin and your body feel weightless. You really, really liked her.

It wasn’t uncomfortable or strange dipping two of your fingers into yourself now. Your body gave way easily for them, knife through warm and melting at the edges butter. You lazily fingered yourself and watched her fit the harness around her hips over her clothes. The cock she fitted didn’t look as intimidating as it would have when you walked into this room.

She had chosen something beginner friendly. It was about average length and thick enough to fill you without the stretch feeling impossible. The textured surface would help her nail your g-spot and she was near drooling at the image of you cumming hard around her cock, going absolutely limp and boneless from how it would feel to orgasm without her ever playing with your clit.

With that image firmly filling her thoughts she came back to you on the bed, slowly moving between your legs to nestle her strap between your thighs and rock it gently against you, careful to only bump your sore clit just barely.

“Here, let this melt slowly in your mouth, try focus on how it tastes” she said, taking a piece of chocolate and placing it on your tongue.

The silicone was dripping with oil so when it caught on your hole it was an easy push inside. The chocolate was unreal. It wasn’t like anything you had ever tasted and you were pretty sure from how luxurious it was that it cost more than what you made in a month (or used to, at least, this gig was incredibly lucrative).

It didn’t hurt. It wasn’t some mind blowing pleasure, it was more a pinch followed by a heavy fullness that made it tricky to catch your breath.

“Good, so good habibi. How’s the chocolate?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could let her taste it for herself, kissing her firmly with no worry about messiness or sexiness. You just wanted to be full of her everywhere, wanted her tongue dancing with yours.

It was a different feeling when you moved. The fullness was insistent and anytime another part of you felt it there was a spark across your body. You moaned wantonly into her mouth, licking the last of the melted chocolate from her tongue before taking a deep, incredible feeling breath and laying back down.

“Good?” she asked.

“So good. Love me.”

She smiled and gently grabbed your hips for purchase so she could slowly pull out a little and rock into you to let you adjust. Soon she was pulling out right to the tip and then firmly pushing back in to the root.

You let yourself go, no worrying about how you sounded or looked, just enjoying the experience with moans and your hands smoothing across your body. It felt good to squeeze your breast or trace patterns on your stomach and right now feeling good was what mattered.

“Ya Allah, you are so beautiful” she said on a gasp as she made love to you.

“So are you” you replied dreamily.

This whole experience was a dream. Your body felt so fucking good. It was as if your blood was syrup pumping lazily and richly through you, making everything sweet and sticky. Every slow thrust rubbed against that spot she had found earlier and compounded the feeling.

Your body worked itself up so, so slowly. It was a sharp contrast to how Soap had worked you the day before, hurling you over the cliff over and over so you didn’t know how to even think anymore. No, this was a more leisurely affair, your body taking it’s time, savouring every morsel of sensation before moving on to the next.

The orgasm was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was just a natural progression of the pleasure that had been building rather than a sudden explosion and it felt like it lasted so luxuriously long. Your body was doing the same as it had been, savouring those ripe bursts of sensation before moving on to the next bite.

When finally the pleasure had all been tasted and swallowed down you sighed in bliss. It ached when Farah pulled out, but it was a good ache.

“That was amazing” you said.

“You were amazing” she replied, brushing her fingers against your cheek. “You bled for me.”

“Did I?”

You were honestly surprised. There hadn’t been much in the way of sharp pain or feeling like you were tearing, so you had thought you hadn’t and that there probably wasn’t any blood at all.

“You did. Would you allow me to keep it?”

You didn’t know how she meant to do that and you found you didn’t much care.

“It’s yours.”

Farah did her own aftercare with you, washing you and then massaging fragrant oil into your skin before hand feeding you while you talked for hours.

In a few weeks she would have a brand new bead for her bracelet and would wear your gift proudly on her wrist right next to all the others.

[wosoamazing]

Icky

Summary: You get bus sick. Warnings: Motion sickness, vomit

Today you were travelling to Manchester with the team on the bus. It was going to take 4 hours, if there wasn’t any traffic, so Lotte took you to the shops this morning to buy some things to keep you entertained on the bus.

You got to play on your iPad for a while before Lotte told you that you’d had enough screen time and she handed you some play doh to do, however after making several different shapes you got bored of the playdoh and asked for your colouring in, as you coloured in you started to feel icky, and your stomach started to feel kind of funny. 

-

“Lotte, I feel a little sick,” you admitted to her as you stopped your colouring in and wrapped your arms around your stomach.

“That’s not good, does your tummy hurt?” You nodded, causing Lotte to look at Alessia who stood up and walked towards the front of the bus, “well why don’t we put your colouring away and you can sit on my lap, and we could have a cuddle as you look outside, and maybe take some deep breaths.” you just nodded again and Lotte moved to pack up your crayons in your pencil case, she closed up your book and placed them in the middle of the table, before lifting you up and placing you in her lap, sideways, so that your side was leaning into her and you faced out the window. As you followed Lotte’s words you started feeling more and more sick, you hadn’t even noticed that Alessia had returned to her seat, handing Lotte the several sick bags and wet wipes the medics gave her. You were almost shaking as you tried to stop the sick feeling, and prevent the tears that were threatening to fall from doing so. You didn’t really know what being sick was like, somehow you only picked up the common cold once a year and that was it, so the feeling of ickiness rising up your throat made you feel weird, and so you told Lotte.

“I don’t like this,” you said as you looked up at her, tears starting to spill out of your eyes, she pulled you back in her lap so you were sat fully on her lap rather than the edge of her thigh. Your face had lost almost all of its colour and Lotte was pretty sure you were about to throw up. So she grabbed a sick bag, as you turned your head to look back out the window.

“Peanut, if you feel like you might throw up, like your tummy might be sick, I need you to try and aim in here okay,” she told you as she held the sick bag in front of you, you just nodded weakly as you fought back the feeling. Lotte saw your body jerk slightly, before your eyes widened in panic, “It’s okay Pea, I’ve got you, just let it out,”. She watched as you gaged, the tears started to grow, and before long you gaged again as your stomach spilled its contents out into the bag, “that’s the way Pea, it’s okay, you’ve got this, don’t worry, you’re doing so great” Lotte comforted you as she rubbed your back. After you finished you moved your hands up to rub your wet eyes and you sat upright again, “Do you think you’re done for now pea?” you nodded at her as one of the medics walked up behind you holding a bucket, Lotte twisted the bag to tie it up and placed it in the bucket before grabbing a wet wipe and wiping your face, placing it in the bucket too. You immediately turned around to face her and curled up in her lap burying your head in her chest and she wrapped her arms tightly around your now sobbing body.

“We’re going to stop off slightly earlier than originally planned, someone can go inside and grab whatever you both need and you can sit outside with her so she can get some fresh air if you want,” the medic told Lotte, “Thank you,” she smiled at the medic who smiled back before walking towards the front of the bus again. 

“Are you feeling a little better now Pea?” Lotte asked as she kissed the top of your head, you nodded softly into her chest.

______

You were now sitting on Lotte’s knees as she sat on a bench outside, you felt a lot more like your normal self and only felt a little icky still, you were in a very competitive game of eye spy when Leah came to sit next to you.

“Hey Le, you okay?” Lotte asked, curious as to why the blonde wasn’t inside with the team.

“Yeah, just thought I would join you both to get some fresh air,” Leah’s voice pulled you out of your trance and you climbed of Lotte’s lap before walking over to Leah on the bench, “Hi Le,” you said as you wrapped your arms around her neck to give her a hug, before she pulled you into her, causing you to fall into her lap.

“Hi mini England, are you feeling better now?” “yes,” you said as you aggressively nodded your head.

“Let’s remember to be calm, Pea, we don’t want you getting sick again.” “Sorry Lotte, can I sit with you on the bus now Leah?” you asked as you tilted your head.

“I think that is up to your sister, but if she says yes I am happy with it.” Leah looked towards Lotte for confirmation.

“Are you sure Leah, she might get sick again,” Lotte asked cautiously, “It’s totally fine Lotte, I’ll just make sure we have some sick bags with us for just encase,” Leah reassured your sister.

“Okay then Pea, you can sit with Leah, but remember to behave and if you feel sick make sure to tell her straight away okay,” you nodded eagerly, as the rest of the team joined you outside. You pulled Leah along behind you as you walked back to the bus.

-

“How about you have a sleep , Pea, it might make you feel better. I might join you, my body is making me feel extra tired today” you nodded as a yawn escaped from your mouth, Leah manoeuvred you on her lap so that you were sitting with your back against her front and your legs stretched out in front of you on top of hers, she sat across two seats, leaning back against the glass of the window. Lia handed her a blanket, which she placed over you, and it wasn’t long before you had fallen asleep. Leah fell asleep shortly after you and you both slept for the rest of the trip.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok So who is down for a bit of a wild Eddie Diaz is Freddie Mercury theory that is actually based in colour theory?!!

Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds insane but hear me out!

So Freddie superstar queer man of moustache wearing fame who also happened to sport a swept back floppy haired look in the 1980’s

Remind you of anyone??

Yeah - similar hairstyle and moustache! Keep that in mind as we continue!

Did you know that he never actually confirmed his sexuality publicly?

He hinted at it in the lyrics of Bo Rhap - which he wrote (and released with Queen) in 1975 when he was figuring things out. At that time he was in a relationship with a woman (Mary Austin - who he called his wife even though they never married. They remained best of friends and she was at his side when he died - he left her most of his estate) but had an affair with a man - and was also dealing with religious and childhood trauma (he was sent to catholic school and had a difficult upbringing at the hands of his mother). Bo Rhap was Freddie sorting through all of his feelings around his sexuality - the lyrics can be interpreted in many ways but the other members of Queen have spoken about its meaning being clear and personal to Freddie at the time. So ‘mama’ is a reference to the Virgin Mary and also to his mother - playing on both his childhood and religious traumas, saying he didn’t mean to make them cry is about not wanting to disappoint them but also about needing to be true to himself. ‘Just killed a man’ is about the death of his heterosexuality. I could go on (I can always write a post explaining the lyrics more fully if that is something that would interest anyone - Queen and Freddie were a hyperfixation of mine as a teenager!!) but I won’t in order to keep to my actual wild theory!

Now I wonder who that sounds like?? Childhoood trauma at the hands of his mother, catholic upbringing that didn’t fit with who he is, relationship with a woman who he loved but didn’t love the right way?? Yeah that sounds remarkably like a certain Edmundo Diaz if you ask me.

Now the moment Freddie actually ‘came out’ without actually coming out and essentially confirming he was not straight (there is debate about if he was gay or bi because he referred to himself as bi) was when he released ‘The Great Pretender’ in 1987 - when he was diagnosed with HIV/AIDS (he had been showing symptoms since 1982 but he also never actually confirmed his diagnosis until the day before his death in 1991) The reason this is significant in relation to Eddie DIaz is multi fold!

Firstly this was the moment Freddie chose to shave off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding who he was anymore and he never grew it back. So for Freddie Mercury his moustache was a literal mask and not a symbol of his queerness. The song is literally about coming out to the world and confessing and not hiding who you are and about wanting to fit in even though you are different. When we have had Episodes titled Masks, confessions, and have wannabes coming up - and we have Eddie Diaz shaving off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding any longer - choosing to embrace his true self - that’s a pretty loud parallel if you ask me.

Now to the colour theory of it all - because you see we have pink coming to the party for both Eddie and Freddie!

Freddie wore this wonderful double breasted pale pink satin suit for the promotional photographs and for the music video of ‘The Great Pretender’ and the scenes he wore it for in the music video were the ones that symbolised him being his true self as he reflected back on his life and all the various costumes and ‘disguises’ he wore throughout his life and career.

And now we’ve had Eddie in Pink for two very key scenes - the only time he has worn pink in the entire show.

Firstly we have the karaoke scene with Eddie in his Crockett and Tubbs pale pink suit and dark pink shirt.

And then we have Risky business Eddie in a pale pink shirt

Both times Eddie has worn pink pale pink have been in connection with being shown his true unmasked and unfiltered self - at the karaoke we see him letting loose and just enjoying himself, and then we have the newly shaven Eddie dancing the Risky business dance finding joy in something. They’re both scenes about Eddies joy, his freedom and him expressing himself. They’re about showing the audience who the real Eddie is - when he isn’t weighed down by all the other things in his life.

Oh hey look, its not even just the pink parallels of it all because we also had drag queens in the great pretender music video (L-R Roger Taylor, Peter Straker and Freddie Mercury) just like we did in the Karaoke scene.

And then we have the green and pink parallel!

Because something I have been side eyeing hard since we first got the stills for the karaoke scene is the colour swap for Buck and Eddie. This was the first time we saw Eddie in pink - in any real colour colour to be honest - Eddie has stuck to a pretty rigid colour palette since he first appeared in Under pressure (oh look yet another Queen reference!) always in muted shades rarely wearing anything bright and generally in a green, grey, blue, black and white colour palette with a little bit of burgundy/maroon thrown in. The only time we’ve really seen him in anything close to a bright colour is the yellow shirt from 601 which we have just seen again in 806. Buck however has worn pink on numerous occasions (Mays graduation party, the tsunami, the hilly coffee maker scene, when Chim figures out Buck knew where Maddie was scene etc etc) and so it is a staple colour for him. Mint green however is not a colour he wears - in fact Buck wearing green more generally is not common at all (especially outside of break up scenes!). So I was already looking for significance in the colour choices that had been made - but didn’t have all the pieces (and not just because the actual karaoke element of the scene had been cut) - until now! Now it is very clear that wardrobe and ABP have to have been given specific colour instructions about Eddies costume colour - because they needed it to play into the Freddie Mercury concept - the pink suit and the swept back hair, the drag queens - the entire thing was a nod to the great pretender and basically the kicking off of a queer arc for Eddie - now backed up by the 806 scene.

I wrote at the time in my meta about pink being the colour for the season and being a play on innocence and naïveté - which did fit with this scene and Eddie in this scene, but it also felt like it wasn’t the entire answer - with the context of the risky business Eddie scene though - now it is making sense - it is about showing Eddie letting go and being free, but it is also symbolic of Eddie becoming lighter (and no I don’t mean in terms of the fact he seems to only wear half his clothes when he’s in pink!) as he allows his true self to see the sunlight.

It also gives us this very interesting parallel/mirroring - Eddie in Pink - Buck in green - in both scenes - the framing is the same - right down to Eddie drinking his beer!

Notice how the tone has swapped though - Eddie darker toned in his darker pink shirt while Buck is super pale in the mint green - switched to Eddie in the super pale pink while Buck is in the very dark green. In S7 both are in relationships and they’re all over each other - because it is ‘safe’ to do so - its the most intimate we’ve ever actually scene them (physically I know they’ve metaphorically been closer) Then when they’re both single they’re keeping a foot apart!

The parallel is a really interesting one - this idea that the episode before - in 705 both Buck and Eddie nearly end up single but choose to stay/ pursue relationships that are not the right fit for them - highlighted by this karaoke scene showing who there person actually is - now backed up by the final scene of 806 - reversed colours and all - showing who their person is after both relationships have ended. The light and dark of both scenes plays into who is in the better place in that moment - So Buck was in the best place in 706 while Eddie is in 806. The other aspect of the two scenes is the loud v quiet. Bucks bi arc being a loud and bright colourful affair full of drama etc, while Eddies is taking a more sedate and quiet route - much like the quiet of a scene where they just sit together in silence. This is a reflection of what each needs in those moments - Buck needed the world to accept him and his bisexuality in 706 and in 806 its about Eddie accepting himself. Their journey’s from here on out are the opposite - Buck now needs to sit in the silence and accept himself while Eddie needs the acceptance of the outside world (namely his parents and Chris) they are holding mirrors up to each other and it perfectly highlights their respective personalities and wider journeys. It also reflects the duality of Freddie Mercury himself - a complete showman - confident and full of charisma on stage - off stage however he was, by all accounts a quiet and unassuming but complex man who accepted himself privately but wasn’t able or wiling to share all of himself with the world (as was and is his right).

So the Freddie Mercury parallel that it seems Tim is playing into is very loud and telling and the colour theory is backing it up perfectly so far.

This is a rambling mess - it’s 2:30am and I should be asleep so apologies if it makes zero sense, but I hope it does!