#listen. listen. listen. hes. i like him. i like that he could if he wanted but doesn't. yknow?
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Self-Aware!Xavier x Down-Bad!Player
Xavier becoming aware he's in a game now he's aware of you as well. A/N: Don't fight me
Self-Aware!Xavier who realizes heâs in a game when he can hear you talking about Lumiere. âLumiere is in Abyssal Chaos again *sigh* I love himâ âSo youâre infatuated with Lumiere as well?â You freeze, looking around not sure if heâs talking to you or not. You check the time and realize it's late so you decide to just go to bed.
Self-Aware!Xavier who draws his sword on you the next day questioning who you are. You're stunned at the fact he's actually talking to you. âThat will literally do nothing you canât reach me Xavâ âWhat do you mean?â he canât quite understand why youâre a stranger, but you also feel so familiar.
Self-Aware!Xavier who quickly grows fond of you. He finds himself napping on the phone with you often now. âAre you free this afternoon? I was hoping we could nap togetherâ starts out as phone call naps which turn into FaceTime/video chat naps and eventually turns into him not being able to sleep well unless youâre on the phone
Self-Aware!Xavier who loves to eat with you and listen to you rant about your day and anything you can think of because your voice alone soothes him. Heâs concerned when you donât log in for a day telling you how he didnât get good sleep because he didnât hear from you.
Self-Aware!Xavier who plans meals around your schedule because he will always make time for you. He claims the food taste better if he gets to look at you while he eats.
Self-Aware!Xavier who wants to learn the kind of games that exist in your world. Youâre connected through technology so he finds a way to play video games with you even it means illegally transferring data to him through the app.
Self-Aware!Xavier who tells you he has someone heâs in love with so he canât fall for you. âI knowâ âYou know?â âQueen of Philos ⊠I know âŠ. she loves you too by the wayâ you donât miss the way he slightly deflates at the fact that you know who he was talking about.
Self-Aware!Xavier who even though he said he canât fall in love with you falls head first anyway and canât stay away from you. He finds himself speaking to in-game MC less and less meanwhile heâs becoming incredibly jealous over not just the guys in your life, but everyone who is able to actually be in your presence. âYour day sounded like it went wellâ hes pouting âme and some friends went to topgolfâ âI heardâ
Y/N: Xav are you jealous? Xavier: And if I say yes? Y/N: I'd say youâre not supposed to have feelings for me Xavier: Itâs hard not to have feelings for someone who feels like home Y/N: I feel like home to you? Xavier: Yes and here I am yet again unable to reach my home
Self-Aware!Zayne
Self-Aware!Rafayel
Self-Aware!Sylus
#love and deepspace#lnds xavier#love and deepspace xavier#lads xavier#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#lads angst#lads x you#lads#lads x reader#lnds#lnds angst#lnds x you#lnds x reader#l&ds#l&ds xavier#l&ds x you#l&ds x reader#Xavier salads#self aware love and deepspace salads#nikaaaaimagine
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hihihihi! đ if youâre willing, can you write a little something with shy!r being the one to initiate the first kiss with hotch but her glasses get in the way? tytyty! đđŒ
âHotch almost dies and you canât take it anymore. Heâs not expecting a kiss. fem, 1.7k
The thing is that you donât mean to panic. Hotch is marching out of the building with handcuffs cut open on his wrists, Emily and Morgan just in front of him, and youâd been stuck out here with JJ because they never let you do the touch and go stuff. An UnSub held a shotgun to the back of Hotchâs head and you just had to watch.Â
You hold yourself in place with all your strength as they come down the path of the house to the blockade of cars and emergency vehicles. âIâm fine,â he says, before any of you can ask him. âNot a scratch on me.âÂ
You can see the skin of his wrists has cut from tugging, so heâs lying, but thatâs not surprising. You shift with your hands clenched together. Heâs closer now, you could touch him, nearly speechless as he says, âHonestly, Iâm surprised it happened to me, and not Reid.âÂ
Everyone else laughs.Â
You canât take it. He looks at you, and you, despite the last year of pushing down feelings of nervousness and affection, of pretending you donât notice how his fingers feel when they brush the backs of your hands or the way his suit stretches across broad shoulders, despite practice, you canât stay still any longer.Â
You weave around JJ, past Spencer, in between Rossi and Hotch himself to press yourself to his chest. You hug him tightly, worried he might disappear if you donât hold on. Safe, your brain says, even as your hands tremble. Heâs safe.Â
âIâm alright,â he says quietly, clasping your back carefully. The handcuff stuck to his wrists jabs through your vest. You can feel it on the bone.Â
âIââ Your eyes are still open, too shocked to let them close.Â
âIâm fine.âÂ
You take that for a polite âunhand meâ and step back. His hand lingers on your shoulder as though checking you for injury, like youâre the one who just had a gun to their head. âYouâre sure you're okay?â you ask.Â
âIâm not hurt.âÂ
You look pointedly at his wrists.Â
âMm,â he says, turning on the spot. âI suppose I am. But thereâs nothing to worry about.âÂ
Youâre egregiously worried regardless. In an attempt to keep from making the situation about you, you turn away from him and take a walk, pretending you need something from the car you came in. You open the passenger door, sweeping your hands across the leather seat for your phone, but you donât want it, so you hold it in two hands and try to calm down. Youâre shaking like crazy. He must have felt it when you hugged him.Â
If you thought he cared enough about his life to prioritise it you might not have panicked as hard, but an advantage to being quiet is getting the opportunity to really listen to people. You donât talk much, but Hotch does, heâs always telling someone what to do, or reassuring them, and heâs constantly on the phone trying to coordinate. Youâve heard his voice for hours on end. So when Rossi told him through the wire that they were gonna get him out of there, you heard the fake confidence in Hotchâs voice as he said, âI know.âÂ
He didnât know. He was scared, so you were terrified.Â
You check the time. Itâs almost two in the morning but the cars give enough light to see inside the car. You trace the stitching on the seat, your eyes sore and blurry at once. Admitting defeat, you climb into the seat and dig around for your glasses. Youâd thought you might need them âif Hotch was injured youâd need to go to the hospital and your contacts are dailies, so you knew youâd have to take them out.Â
You pull the sun guard down and flip the cover on the mirror to take your contacts out, dropping them in the glasses case to throw away later. Your eyes sting. You rub them hard.Â
âY/N,â a familiar voice says.Â
Hotch is a blob. You slide your glasses open and up your nose, blinking as he comes back into definition. âHotch.â Theyâve cut his handcuffs off and wrapped light bandaging around his wrists. âOkay?â you ask.Â
âAre you?âÂ
âIâm fine, sorry.â You clear your throat. âMy eyes are tired, thatâs all.âÂ
He stares at you for too long. Desperate to be out of his scrutiny, you get out of the car and shut the door. âCan we go home soon?â you ask.Â
âI believe so.âÂ
âOh,â you say, looking down at his hand, âgood.âÂ
Thereâs another gap of silence, and then simultaneously:
âAre youââ
âCan Iââ
Hotch smiles. âYou first.â
âAre you sure youâre okay? That mustâve been so scary.â
Hotch gives his head a slow shake. âIâm fine. I was more scared at the time than I wouldâve liked to admit to, but Iâm okay now. Iâve felt worse.âÂ
âReally? Worse than that?â you ask, trying but failing to smile. Your wrist is too hot in your own hand.Â
He seems to measure his response. âWhen you and JJ got stuck in the middle of New York a few months ago, when we couldnât contact you, that was the most scared Iâve ever been on the job.âÂ
New York. Heâd just separated from Haley, and everyone kept telling you how much chemistry he had with Kate, and you were already hopeless for him. It sucked. He almost died and you had to act like everything meant nothing to you, he was just your boss.Â
But youâre friends now. Maybe you can be a little more honest.Â
âI was scared too,â you say. You canât help pouting. You must look like a petulant kid. âYou wouldnât believe it, Hotch, I watched you on the camera twenty different times. And now today, I had to see it again, I canât keep watching this stuff happen to you.âÂ
âThatâs the job.âÂ
âBut why does it have to be you?â you ask. Â
His eyes track over your entire face, his brow ever so slightly furrowed. âBecause it does, and it always will,â he says, eyes softening, voice like silk. Heâs talking to you like youâve hung the moon even as he lays down an unfortunate truth. âYou shouldnât worry about me. I know exactly what it is that Iâm doing. I donât want you to worry about me.âÂ
âI canât help it.âÂ
He smiles just a touch. âI know. I canât help it either.âÂ
You look at him and you know heâs not gonna kiss you. He might want to âitâs insanity, it doesnât feel real, he almost died tonight and you never wouldâve known how this feels.Â
You step into his chest. Youâre frowning at him, the edge of tears without any of the heat. âI donât know what Iâd do if something really happened to you,â you confess.Â
The scratch in your voice perturbs him. Careful, his hand comes to rest against the small of your back, drawing you in.Â
âIâm sorry,â you say.Â
âDonât be. Please. God knows Iâd lose my mind if it had been you in there tonight.âÂ
He doesnât move as you touch his cheek. Doesnât step away as you steel your nerves. He must know what youâre about to do, but he doesnât stop you. For a moment you canât let yourself have it. But then he lets out a breath, and closes his eyes, and he angles his head down to meet you. You tip your head to the side and lean in.Â
For a few seconds, your chest is uncomfortably hot, and youâre so scared heâs not gonna kiss you back and that youâre ruining everything you canât think right. And Hotch âHotch must know exactly how he likes to be kissed, and youâre probably not doing it right. But youâve wanted it for long enough to try twice. You kiss him with lips parting, your hand unsteady on his cheek.Â
He makes a sound at the back of his throat and curls you in.Â
Youâre hungry for it, thereâs no other word âthe second he responds you bear up. You kiss him hard enough to make your lips sting.
âAh,â he says with a laugh, tilting his head to the side. âI think you blinded me.âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âYour glasses, sweetheart. Theyâre at risk of giving me a concussion.âÂ
Sweetheart. You touch your glasses, remember the problem and touch his face, just under his eye. âShit, Iâm sorry.â
He pushes them up against your forehead. âOkay?â
âI canât see you.âÂ
âWell, I donât think thatâs a necessity unless you do,â he says.Â
Youâre not sure what he means until heâs brought his hands to your neck, holding you by either side.Â
âItâs been a long time since someone surprised me,â he says softly. Before you can make sense of it, heâs leaning down to kiss you chastely. Heâs much sweeter about it than youâd been and what an embarrassment that is, youâd thrown yourself at him and heâs kissing you like a prince.Â
He kisses you. His thumb runs along your cheek. When he pulls away he smiles, settling your glasses tenderly back on the bridge of your nose.Â
âIâm really alright,â he says. Heâll be lucky if you ever speak again. Knowing, he cups your face with his thumbs, his fingers slipped behind your neck.Â
You duck your head. He takes it as a sign to hug you, ushering your face into his neck, your glasses smushed to your eyes. If he can feel the heat coming off of you, heâs kind enough not to mention it.Â
âDonât go shy on me now,â he murmurs.Â
âDo you think I can give you back?â you ask.Â
Youâre glad when he laughs, a surprised chuckle that vibrates from his chest to yours. âThatâs harsh, agent.âÂ
You were obviously kidding, but the teasing has to stop. You wonât survive it.Â
âWill you kiss me again?â you ask under your breath.Â
Heâs too busy doing as youâve asked to tease you. Youâre too busy being kissed to remember you were scared.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Pick Us!
In which you have to choose a club and it looks like everyone wants a piece of you.
You were minding your own business, dodging Grim's increasingly creative ways to get you to buy premium tuna, when Crowley swept in with his usual dramatic flair.
âAh, my dear pupil!â he exclaimed, arms wide like a bad community theater actor. âTo better immerse yourself in school life, you must join a club. Itâs mandatory!â
Before you could protest or ask any clarifying questions, he disappeared in a swirl of his cape, leaving you standing there with nothing but Grimâs unsympathetic shrug.
Naturally, this information traveled faster than you could process it, because the next thing you knew, Ace was practically dragging you by the arm across campus.
The Basketball Club
âAlright, listen,â Ace began, spinning a basketball on one finger and grinning like he just invented the sport. âYouâre obviously joining the basketball club. Itâs the best. Iâm here, Floydâs here, and even Jamilâs here, so really, itâs a no-brainer.â
âIs that supposed to sell it?â you asked, crossing your arms.
âUh, yeah!â he said, tossing the ball toward you. It immediately bounced off your hands and hit the floor. Ace, undeterred, caught it mid-bounce and gave you a wink. âDonât worry, Iâll teach you. Iâm, like, super good at this. Just ask him!â
From across the gym, some poor guyâbless his heartâtried to nod in support, but you caught the nervous look he shot Ace instead.
âOkay, sure,â you said, âbut isnât this just an excuse for you to show off?â
âMaybe,â Ace said with zero shame, dribbling the ball dramatically before attempting a layup. The ball bounced off the rim and into Floydâs waiting hands.
âShrimpy!â Floyd called, tossing the ball behind his head without looking (and still somehow making the shot). âJoin the club. Itâll be fuuuuun.â
You hesitated, because with Floyd, âfunâ could mean literally anything. âDefine fun,â you said cautiously.
âSimple! You, me, and Ace crushing people in games!â Floyd grinned, leaning closer to you. âAnd if anyone tries to mess with you, Iâll squish âem.â
Ace groaned. âFloyd, you canât just threaten people into joining.â
âWhy not?â Floyd asked, genuinely puzzled.
âBecause itâs weird!â
âNo, itâs effective,â Floyd countered, shooting you another toothy grin. âCâmon, Shrimpy, youâre already here. Iâll even let you call the plays. Or, you know, not. Whatever.â
â...Youâre just bored, arenât you?â
âObviously,â Floyd admitted, leaning lazily against the wall. âBut hey, if you join, I wonât let Ace hog the ball. Win-win, right?â
And then there was Jamil, who had been sitting silently on the sidelines, observing the chaos with his usual exasperated expression.
âAre they done?â he asked, finally standing and walking over to you.
âI donât think so,â you replied, watching as Floyd tried to steal the ball from Ace mid-dribble.
Jamil sighed. âTypical.â He glanced at you, his tone cool and measured. âIgnore them. Theyâre just trying to drag you into their antics.â
âAntics?â Floyd repeated, offended.
âYeah, Jamil,â Ace added, narrowing his eyes. âWhatâre you implying?â
âIâm implying youâre both terrible at convincing people,â Jamil said smoothly. He turned back to you. âIf youâre interested in joining the club, youâll actually get something out of it. Physical exercise, teamwork, strategy. And if you stick around, Iâll make sure youâre not stuck with them during practice.â
âHey!â Ace protested.
Floyd just laughed. âJamilâs still salty about the last scrimmage.â
âHardly,â Jamil said, arching an eyebrow. âIâm just pointing out that if you want to learn how to actually play, youâd be better off with me.â
You blinked. âAre you⊠offering to train me?â
He shrugged, but there was a faint smirk on his face. âIf it means saving you from their nonsense, yes.â
All you can do is sigh and say "I'll think about it"
Track and Field Club
You barely made it out of the basketball clubâs gym alive when Deuce grabbed your wrist like his life depended on it. His expression was that unique combination of earnest and panickedâclassic Deuce.
âWait, donât decide yet!â he said, already dragging you down the corridor. âYou havenât even seen the track and field club! You might like it better!â
âDeuce,â you began, trying to keep up without tripping. âI havenât evenââ
âJust come on!â
Before you knew it, you were standing on the edge of the outdoor track, blinking in the sunlight as Deuce shoved you forward like he was presenting a prize to a panel of judges. Jack, in the middle of sprint drills, stopped mid-stride to look over at you. His tail flicked once, and he jogged over with that intimidating mix of focus and curiosity he always had.
âYouâre trying to recruit them?â Jack asked, crossing his arms.
Deuce nodded, puffing out his chest like he was making the ultimate sales pitch. âYeah! Track and fieldâs way better than basketball. No offense to those guys.â
âI take offense,â you muttered, but neither of them heard.
âPlus,â Deuce continued, âweâve got variety. Running, jumping, throwingâyou can do anything. Itâs not just bouncing a ball around, you know?â
Jack nodded in agreement. âItâs good for discipline. Builds strength, endurance, and focus. If you want to improve yourself, this is the place to do it.â
âUh-huh,â you said, glancing at the track. âAnd what if I⊠donât exactly have focus?â
âThatâs fine!â Deuce said, grinning brightly. âWeâll help you! Right, Jack?â
Jack nodded. âOf course. Weâll start with basic drills.â He gave you a once-over, sizing you up. âHowâs your stamina?â
âDefine⊠stamina,â you said cautiously, because you had a feeling your answer wasnât going to impress him.
Jackâs ears twitched, and he leaned slightly closer. âHow far can you run without stopping?â
âUh,â you began, nervously shifting your weight. âTo the fridge?â
Jack blinked. â...Youâre joking, right?â
Deuce coughed loudly, clapping a hand on Jackâs shoulder. âDonât worry about that! Everyone starts somewhere, right? Besides, theyâre here because they want to try something new.â
You stared at Deuce. âI donât remember saying that.â
âExactly!â he continued, ignoring you entirely. âThink of how awesome itâd be to have us training you! Weâll get you in the best shape of your life. Right, Jack?â
Jack, who was still mildly horrified by your fridge comment, hesitated. â...Sure.â
Deuce, now fully in salesman mode, gestured to the track like it was some sort of holy land. âAnd you donât have to worry about teamwork stuff! You can focus on your personal goals andââ
âUnless youâre in a relay,â Jack interjected.
âRight, but relays are cool!â Deuce added quickly. âLike⊠team spirit, you know?â
You glanced between the two of them, taking in Jackâs intensity and Deuceâs enthusiasm. They were both staring at you with a mix of hope and determination, and honestly, it was kind of endearing.
âOkay,â you said slowly. âIf I join, do I get to skip the first practice?â
âNo,â Jack said immediately.
Deuce grinned sheepishly. âBut weâll go easy on you!â
âJack doesnât look like he believes that.â
Jack tilted his head, his tail swishing once. âYouâll thank me later.â
âIâm not sure Iâll survive later,â you muttered.
Deuce ignored that, clapping his hands together. âGreat! I knew youâd love it here! Câmon, letâs give them a quick demo, Jack!â
Before you could protest, the two of them took off around the track, moving at speeds that made you feel dizzy just watching. Deuce kept glancing back to grin at you, while Jack stayed focused, every stride perfect.
You stood there, bewildered and vaguely impressed, wondering if joining any club was a good idea at all. Still, as Deuce stumbled back toward you, sweaty but grinning like a puppy who just fetched a stick, you couldnât help but laugh.
âThink about it, okay?â he said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. âWeâd love to have you here.â
Jack jogged up beside him, barely winded. âYouâll fit in if you put in the effort.â
âYeah,â Deuce agreed, nodding earnestly. âSo⊠what do you think?â
You hesitated, glancing at the track, then at them. ââŠIâll get back to you.â
Deuce grinned like that was a victory, and Jack just nodded approvingly. As they walked back to their drills, you realized you had yet another club to considerâand these two werenât going to make it any easier.
Board Game Club
Before you could make your escapeâor even fully process the events of the dayâyour wrist was suddenly seized by Ortho, who zoomed in out of nowhere like a missile with a purpose.
âThere you are!â Ortho exclaimed with unsettling cheer. His grip was surprisingly firm for someone who probably didnât even need to touch you to move you. âBig Brotherâs been waiting! Come on!â
âWaitâwhat? Ortho, where are weââ
âNo time for questions!â And just like that, he lifted you into the air like you were a deranged package and he was some kind of express courier. You barely had time to flail before he rocketed off, delivering you with precision to the board game club's headquarters.
You landed with an unceremonious thud, right in front of Idia, who nearly fell out of his chair.
âOrtho!â Idia hissed, his flaming hair flaring. âYou canât just abduct people like that!â
âBut you said you wanted them to join!â Ortho chirped. âMission accomplished!â
Azul, seated calmly at the head of the table, adjusted his glasses and smirked. âWell, well. A delivery serviceâhow efficient. Welcome to the board game club.â
You were still processing the fact that youâd been airmailed when Idia slouched lower in his seat, muttering, âUgh, so embarrassing. Ortho, seriouslyâŠâ
âUh,â you began, brushing yourself off. âHi?â
Azul gestured grandly to the table in front of him, where an array of meticulously organized board games was displayed like they were ancient treasures. âHere, we focus on strategy, intellect, and the fine art of outwitting your opponent. Unlike other clubs,â he said with a pointed glance at the door, âthis one doesnât require you to break a sweat.â
âThatâs actually kind of appealing,â you admitted, still wary.
Idia perked up slightly, his hair flickering a little brighter. âSee? I told you itâs cool. I mean, if you like, uh, not running around like some NPC.â
Ortho leaned over, nodding enthusiastically. âAnd Big Brotherâs really good at this stuff! Heâs undefeated in our club tournaments!â
âThatâs because youâre the only other member whoâs not a liability!â Idia blurted, before realizing what heâd just said. âUhâI meanâyouâd totally, like, be an asset. Probably.â
Azul cleared his throat, clearly annoyed at being excluded from the compliment. âAllow me to demonstrate. Why donât we have a quick match? You against Idia.â
âWhat?â Idia sat up straight, his hair sparking nervously. âNo way! Thatâs not fairâI canât justââ
Azul gave him a smile sharp enough to cut glass. âDonât tell me youâre afraid of losing, Idia.â
Idiaâs face turned pink. âFine,â he grumbled, setting up the board. âBut donât blame me if I crush them.â
You sat down reluctantly, realizing too late that this was probably a trap. Idiaâs fingers moved at lightning speed as he set up his pieces, muttering calculations under his breath. Ortho leaned over your shoulder, giving you completely useless advice like, âJust believe in yourself!â
To your surprise, you managed to hold your own for the first few turns. Idia glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were reevaluating your existence.
âHuh,â he murmured. âNot bad. For a newbie.â
âIs that a compliment?â you asked, moving your piece cautiously.
âDonât let it go to your head,â he said quickly, his face turning red again.
Azul chuckled from his spot at the table. âSee? A game of wits and strategy. Isnât this far superior to running laps or throwing balls into hoops?â
âHey!â you said, pointing your game piece at him. âDonât diss the other clubs. Theyâre passionate too!â
Azul raised an eyebrow. âPassion doesnât win battles. Strategy does.â
The game dragged on, and by the end of it, you were completely out of your depth. Idia, on the other hand, looked like heâd just stepped out of an anime boss fight, his hair flaring dramatically as he made his final move.
âCheckmate,â he said, grinning slightly.
âWrong game, Big Brother,â Ortho corrected.
âWhatever!â Idia snapped, but he didnât look too upset. âItâs over, okay?â
Azul leaned forward, smirking again. âSo, what do you think? Ready to join?â
You leaned back in your chair, your brain fried from trying to keep up. âI⊠I need to think about it.â
Ortho beamed. âThat means theyâre considering it! Success!â
Idia muttered something under his breath about âtoo much pressureâ and âwhy is this so stressful,â but you caught a tiny flicker of a smile as he fiddled with one of the game pieces.
Azul, ever the businessman, handed you a brochure as you left. âTake your time. But rememberâintellect always wins.â
You left the board game club feeling like youâd just survived a high-stakes negotiation. And as Ortho cheerfully waved goodbye, you couldnât help but wonder if all the clubs were this intense.
Film Studies Club
You were rounding a corner, still recovering from your latest club recruitment ambush, when a perfectly manicured hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.
Before you could even yelp, you found yourself being gracefully pulled into the Film Studies Clubroom by none other than Vil Schoenheit. His strides were purposeful, his posture impeccable, and his expressionâŠwell, letâs just say it was the definition of Iâm doing you a favor, peasant.
âVil?â you sputtered, barely managing to keep up. âWhat are youââ
âI need to vet you,â Vil said simply, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. âThe Film Studies Club could use some fresh blood, and you look⊠adequate.â
âAdequate?â you echoed, mildly offended but too intrigued to argue further.
He led you to the center of the room, gesturing for you to stand under a perfectly angled spotlight. âDonât misunderstand,â Vil continued, crossing his arms and regarding you with a critical eye. âIâm merely evaluating your potential. Our club requires both talent and diligenceâqualities that, if Iâm being honest, are rare in this school.â
âUh, thanks?â
Vil ignored you, pulling out a script and flipping through it like he was deciding your fate. âIf you canât pass the audition, you can still join as a backstage hand,â he said airily. âWeâre short on those too.â
âWow, what an inspiring pitch,â you muttered, but Vilâs sharp gaze silenced you immediately.
âRead this,â he instructed, handing you the script and gesturing for you to begin.
You hesitated, glancing at the lines. âYouâre serious? Right now?â
âDo I look like someone who jokes about art?â Vil asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.
Point taken.
Clearing your throat, you started reading, trying to put some effort into it. Vil watched you intently, his expression inscrutable. He occasionally tilted his head, as if mentally dissecting every word you spoke, every movement you made.
When you finished, you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.
Vil tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing. âYouâre not hopeless,â he said finally, in a tone that made it sound like a compliment. âRough around the edges, yes, but Iâve seen worse.â
âGee, thanks,â you said dryly.
âDonât be smug. Youâll need work,â Vil continued, ignoring your tone. âBut I suppose you have potential.â
âAnd if I didnât?â
Vil gave a delicate shrug, his expression cool. âThen youâd still be useful behind the scenes. But consider this your opportunity to elevate yourself. Being part of my club means striving for excellenceâno exceptions.â
You couldnât help but smirk. âIs this really about me, or are you just desperate for members?â
Vilâs eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement there. âDesperation has nothing to do with it. Iâm simply ensuring that my club remains unparalleled. If you happen to benefit from my guidance, so be it.â
âWell, when you put it that way, how can I refuse? I'll think about it.â
Vilâs lips curved into the faintest of smiles. âSmart choice. Now, donât make me regret it.â
With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you standing there wondering what exactly youâd just signed up forâand if Vilâs idea of âelevating yourselfâ involved a complete personality overhaul.
Science Club
You barely had time to process Vil's dramatic exit when a familiar voice whispered theatrically, âAh, my muse! Fate conspires to bring us together!â
Before you could react, Rook Hunt appearedâswooped, reallyâout of nowhere and expertly whisked you away from the Film Studies Clubroom. It was less like being led and more like being caught mid-flight by an overly enthusiastic bird of prey.
âRook?!â you yelped as he practically danced you down the hallway. âWhat is happening?â
âMon ami,â he declared, his eyes glittering with fervor, âyou must see the science club! A world of wonder awaits you!â
âWaitâscience?â you echoed, incredulous. âYouâre in the science club?â
âAh, oui! Science is but another stage upon which the beauty of nature and humanity performs its eternal dance! The experiments! The cultivation of life! The creation of culinary masterpieces! All expressions of art, no?â
You werenât sure if he was describing scientific principles or poetry, but before you could argue, Rook had dragged you into the science clubroom.
The room was a chaotic mix of activities. One corner housed a vibrant garden under grow lights, another had chemistry equipment bubbling away ominously, and a third corner smelled suspiciously like freshly baked bread. Trey Clover stood near a counter, pulling cookies out of an oven as if this were the most normal thing to happen in a science lab.
âAh, there you are,â Trey greeted, smiling warmly. âRook said heâd bring someone by. Iâm guessing youâre deciding on a club?â
You glanced between Rook, who was already gesturing dramatically at a rack of test tubes, and Trey, who held up a tray of cookies like a peace offering. âI⊠guess I am?â
âBien sĂ»r!â Rook exclaimed, sweeping an arm toward the greenery in the corner. âBehold! We grow life itself here! Tomatoes, basil, flowersâanything your heart desires!â
Trey added, âWe also bake and cook as part of our activities. Itâs a great way to learn about chemistry and make something useful at the same time.â
âAnd explosions!â Rook chimed in enthusiastically. âOccasionally, there are explosions.â
Trey shot him a look. âNot⊠intentionally.â
Rook turned back to you, his expression radiant. âThink of the possibilities, mon ami! With science, you can cultivate beauty, create masterpieces, and perhaps even unlock secrets of the universe! And, of course, I am here to guide youâto nurture the artistic soul that dwells within!â
âAlso,â Trey added, far more pragmatically, âweâre not picky about what activities you want to try. Itâs a flexible club, so you could do a little bit of everything.â
You considered this as Trey handed you a cookie. It was warm and delicious, which admittedly swayed your opinion a little.
âHmm,â you said thoughtfully, âso I could garden, bake, and blow things up all in one club?â
âExactly!â Trey said with a smile.
Rook leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. âAnd think, mon cherâif you hone your talents here, you could support Vil in creating the cinematic beauty he so envisions! Science and art, united in harmony!â
You blinked. âWait, are you trying to recruit me for this club and help Vil at the same time?â
Rook grinned. âNature does not limit itself to one purpose, mon ami, and neither do I.â
Trey sighed but didnât deny it.
âWell, this is definitely⊠something,â you said, nibbling on the cookie. âIâll think about it.â
âAh, a maybe!â Rook clasped his hands together like youâd just promised him your soul. âA victory in itself!â
Before you could say anything else, Rook twirled you toward the door, clearly ready to drag you to your next destinationâor possibly just keep talking about âthe poetry of chlorophyllâ until you gave in.
Pop Music Club
Just as you were beginning to suspect Rook was about to wax poetic about âthe lyrical mysteries of yeast fermentation,â a sudden voice interrupted.
âOh-ho, whatâs this?â
Before you could even react, Lilia Vanrouge materialized out of thin air, practically glowing with chaotic energy. âAh, my dear friend! Youâre far too bright a star to waste away on science experiments! Come with meâpop stardom awaits!â
You blinked. âWait, what?â
And just like that, you were swept up in Liliaâs whirlwind. He dragged you down the hallway with a skip in his step and a mischievous laugh, leaving Rook and Trey in his dust.
âLilia, I can walk, you know!â you said, stumbling to keep up.
âBut whereâs the drama in that?â Lilia replied, cackling as he pushed open the doors to the Pop Music Clubroom.
Inside, the room was a cacophony of sound and color. Disco lights spun, a half-finished banner reading âNext Big Thing!â hung lopsidedly on the wall, and Kalim was gleefully banging away on a drum like it owed him money. Cater sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through his phone and periodically snapping selfies with sparkly filters.
âOh, hey!â Kalim greeted you, waving so enthusiastically he almost hit himself with the drum stick. âYouâre here to join us, right? This club is the best! We have music, dancing, and itâs all just super fun!â
Cater glanced up from his phone, his grin wide and just a little too calculated. âYouâd fit right in! Think of all the magicam-worthy moments we could create together. Plus, the followers youâd get? Off the charts.â
âFollowers?â you echoed, glancing at Lilia.
âAh, but of course!â Lilia said, flinging his arms wide as if presenting you to an adoring crowd. âThe Pop Music Club isnât just about musicâitâs about presence! Charisma! The ability to captivate a room with a single note or a dazzling smile!â
âItâs also about having a good time!â Kalim added, spinning in a circle for no reason other than sheer joy.
Cater nodded, holding up his phone. âAnd donât forgetâevery moment is a potential viral video. You, me, Lilia, and Kalim as the dream team? Weâd own the algorithm.â
You hesitated. âUh, I donât even play an instrument.â
âNeither does he!â Lilia said brightly, pointing at some unfortunate bystander.
âHey!â he protested. âI play the Kalimba!â He promptly tried to play a note, missed the rhythm entirely, and Lilia laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.
âSee?â Lilia said, unfazed. âTalent is optional here. All we need is your spirit!â
Cater stood, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. âWe also dabble in choreography, so if youâve got two left feet, donât worryâweâll teach you how to make them look intentional.â
âCome on, join us!â Kalim said, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like an overexcited puppy. âWe could totally use your energy!â
âWhat energy?â you asked, deadpan. âIâve been dragged between clubs all dayâI barely have any left.â
âExactly!â Lilia said with a wink. âWeâll channel whatâs left into a glorious crescendo of pop music excellence!â
You werenât sure whether to laugh, cry, or just surrender entirely to the chaos. Liliaâs grin was practically infectious, Kalimâs enthusiasm radiated like the sun, and Cater was already adjusting the angle of his phone to catch you in the best light.
âWell,â you muttered, âat least it sounds⊠lively.â
âLively is an understatement,â Cater said, snapping a selfie with you and Lilia in the background. âHashtag PopStarsInTheMaking! Youâre gonna love it here.â
âLet me guess,â you said dryly. âYouâre already planning to upload that, arenât you?â
âOh, absolutely,â Cater said with a wink.
Lilia clapped his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. âSo, what do you say? Ready to unleash your inner star?â
âI⊠will think about it,â you replied, edging toward the door.
âThink fast!â Kalim called after you. âThe bass is calling your name!â
You bolted before anyone could shove an instrument into your hands.
Equestrian Club
As you hurried down the hallway, still reeling from the pop music chaos you'd just escaped, you nearly collided with a flash of red.
"Ah, there you are!"
You blinked up at none other than Riddle Rosehearts, who looked as though he'd been scouring the entire school for you. His eyes narrowed, and his voice carried a tone of stern authority mixed with subtle relief.
"I've been looking for you," Riddle said, crossing his arms. "Ace and Deuce mentioned that youâre considering which club to join. As housewarden, itâs my responsibility to ensure you make a proper choice."
You blinked, still processing. "Oh, uh⊠thanks?"
"Enough dilly-dallying," Riddle said briskly, taking your wrist with surprising firmness. "You're coming with me to the Equestrian Club."
"Wait, whatâ"
Before you could finish, Riddle had already begun marching you toward the stables. You were half-dragged, half-guided, catching snippets of his lecture along the way about the merits of horseback riding, discipline, and poise.
When you arrived, the warm scent of hay filled the air, and the sound of soft nickering greeted you. The stables were pristine, the horses sleek and well-groomed. Standing nearby were Silver and Sebek, both tending to the horses.
"Riddle, you found them" Silver greeted you with his usual calm demeanor. He gave you a faint smile as he gently brushed a dappled gray mare. "Perfect timingâwe were just about to go for a ride."
Sebek, on the other hand, straightened like a soldier at attention, his voice booming. "THEY WILL JOIN US, OF COURSE! IT IS ONLY FITTING FOR AN INDIVIDUAL OF WORTH TO EMBRACE SUCH A NOBLE ART!"
"Sebek, indoor voice," Riddle said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I AM OUTDOORS!" Sebek retorted, though he did lower his volume slightly.
You glanced nervously at the horses. "Uh, I donât know if Iâm⊠horse material."
"Nonsense," Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Riding teaches discipline, focus, and responsibility. Itâs the perfect club for fostering growthâand for avoiding unnecessary distractions like some less dignified clubs."
"Pop Music Club?" you guessed.
Riddle sniffed, his expression sour. "Among others."
Silver walked over, still holding the brush, and gave you a reassuring nod. "Donât worry. The horses are gentle, and we can teach you everything. Itâs a peaceful activity once you get used to it."
"Peaceful!" Sebek exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "It is a pursuit befitting the greatest warriors! EVEN LORD MALLEUSâ"
"Sebek," Riddle interrupted, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Focus on the matter at hand."
"Apologies!" Sebek barked, saluting.
Riddle turned back to you, his expression softening just a fraction. "The Equestrian Club isnât just about riding horses. Itâs about elegance, partnership, and understanding. You could benefit greatly from it."
"And the horses are great listeners," Silver added.
"Unlike some humans," Sebek muttered under his breath.
You bit back a laugh as Riddle gave Sebek another glare.
"What do you say?" Riddle asked, stepping aside to let you see one of the horsesâa chestnut with a kind, inquisitive gaze. "This is Vorpal. Perhaps a ride would convince you?"
The horse whinnied softly, and for a moment, you considered it. There was something appealing about the tranquility of the stables, the camaraderie of the club members, and the undeniable charm of working with such majestic creatures.
But then you remembered the drum chaos, the science experiments, and Vilâs dramatic vetting process.
"Let me, uh⊠think about it?" you said, taking a step back.
Riddle sighed, though he looked more exasperated than disappointed. "Very well. But donât wait too longâindecision is unbecoming."
"Yeah," you mumbled. "Got it."
As you made your escape, you could hear Sebek booming, "RIDING A HORSE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"
You werenât sure about that, but you were certain that escaping club recruitment was starting to feel like an Olympic sport.
Magift Club
As you staggered away from the stables, thoroughly frazzled by Sebekâs enthusiastic yelling and Riddleâs intense lecture on discipline, you barely had time to catch your breath beforeâ
âYo, gotcha!â
A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you let out a very undignified yelp. You turned to find Ruggie grinning up at you like a mischievous hyena that had just found its next meal.
âRuggie! Whatâ?â
âNo time for questions, boss,â he said, practically dragging you down the path. âLeonaâs orders. He told me to bring ya to the Magift Club.â
âThe Magift Club?â you repeated, already sensing disaster.
Ruggie nodded, smirking. âYup. Letâs go, letâs go!â
âButâwaitâI donât even have magic!â you protested as he hauled you toward the field.
âDetails, details,â Ruggie waved off, his grip on your arm firm.
Soon enough, you were dumped unceremoniously on the sidelines of the Magift field. Leona was lounging on the grass under the shade of a tree, looking entirely too comfortable for someone allegedly trying to recruit you. Epel was nearby, aggressively practicing his throws while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like âIâll show âem.â
Leona cracked one eye open lazily as Ruggie dropped you off. ââBout time,â he drawled.
âLeona,â you said flatly, âwhy would you want me in the Magift Club? I don't even have magic.â
He yawned, looking entirely unbothered. âYeah, I know that. Youâre still better than the other herbivores running around. You can be the manager.â
âManager?â
âYup,â Ruggie chimed in, plopping down next to Leona. âYouâd handle all the boring stuffâpaperwork, schedules, snacks, makinâ sure Epel doesnât throw a fit when he gets tackled.â
âI donât throw fits!â Epel yelled, narrowly missing a hoop with his throw.
Leona smirked. âSure you donât.â
You crossed your arms, unconvinced. âWhy me, though? Youâre telling me Iâm the best candidate for this?â
Leona sat up slightly, his sharp eyes locking on yours. âIâm sayinâ youâre the least annoying option. I donât need some herbivore manager whoâs gonna cry every time I take a nap instead of practicing. Youâre not useless, so quit whining.â
Ruggie leaned in conspiratorially. âBasically, youâre the only one Leona doesnât feel like chasing off the field after two days.â
You raised an eyebrow. âSounds like a ringing endorsement.â
Leona shrugged. âTake it or leave it. Makes no difference to me.â
At that moment, Epel ran up, panting slightly from his practice. âCâmon, you should join us!â he urged. âYou donât need magic to be part of the team. And if you ever wanna learn some tricks, I can teach ya!â
Leona gave him a lazy side-eye. âDonât scare them off.â
âIâm not scarinâ âem! Iâm convincinâ âem!â Epel shot back, glaring at Leona before turning back to you. âSeriously, we could use someone like you. The clubâs fun, I promise!â
Ruggie snickered. âFunâs a stretch. Itâs more like⊠survival of the fittest with a ball involved.â
âAnd napping,â Leona added with a smirk.
Epel crossed his arms. âWell, maybe if someone practiced instead of nappinâ, weâd win more games!â
Leona waved him off with a scoff.
You sighed, rubbing your temples. âI donât know, guys. This sounds like a lot of chaos.â
âChaos is half the fun,â Ruggie said with a grin. âCâmon, boss, think of all the free food we get during games. And youâd get to boss Leona around as the manager. Ainât that worth it?â
Leona snorted. âGood luck with that.â
You glanced at the trioâEpel brimming with determination, Ruggie radiating mischief, and Leona looking like he didnât care but also somehow cared just enough to try. It was⊠weirdly tempting, in its own way.
âIâll⊠think about it,â you said finally.
âFair enough,â Leona said, already reclining again. âDonât take too long, though. Weâve got a game next week, and Iâm not filling out paperwork.â
Ruggie winked. âDonât worry, youâll come around. Everyone does.â
As you left the field, you couldnât shake the feeling that youâd just been almost recruited into something much more taxing than a simple club.
Mountain Lovers Club
Before you could escape the Magift field and all its potential paperwork, you took a sharp turnâonly to smack right into what felt like a wall of polite menace. A soft, knowing chuckle sounded above you.
âOh dear, do be careful,â came Jade Leechâs unmistakably smooth voice.
You took a step back, already dreading the conversation. âJade,â you said warily, âwhat are you doing here?â
His sharp smile grew ever so slightly. âWaiting for you, of course. Word travels fast, and Iâve heard youâre in the market for a club.â
âOh no,â you muttered. âYouâre not here toââ
Before you could finish, he was already guiding you away, his hand light on your arm but unyielding, like a vice hidden under a silk glove.
âCome now,â he said, his tone as polite as ever, âI simply must show you the Mountain Lovers Club.â
âThe what now?â you asked, bewildered.
âThe Mountain Lovers Club,â he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
âAnd⊠who else is in this club?â
âWhy, just me.â
You stopped in your tracks. âItâs just you?â
âYes.â Jade smiled serenely, as if this were not a glaring red flag. âI am the founder, leader, and sole member. But with your arrival, that could very well change.â
You blinked at him, unsure if youâd misheard. âWait, so youâve been running a one-person club this whole time?â
âIndeed.â His expression didnât falter in the slightest. âThe Mountain Lovers Club is dedicated to the appreciation of all things mountainous. Hiking through beautiful terrain, foraging for wild plants, observing unique ecosystems, andâon occasionâbefriending the local fauna.â
âBefriending?â
âExamining, petting, observing closelyâŠâ His eyes gleamed. âPerhaps all three.â
You shook your head, trying to process. âSo⊠why me?â
Jade clasped his hands together, the picture of poised enthusiasm. âYou strike me as someone who appreciates unique experiences. The Mountain Lovers Club offers a chance to explore the great outdoors, expand your horizons, and develop a deeper appreciation for natureâs wonders.â
âAnd by âgreat outdoors,â you mean mountains?â
âPrecisely.â
âAnd itâs just you?â
âFor now,â he said, his tone warm but his gaze uncomfortably intense. âBut every great journey begins with a single step. Yours could be joining this club.â
You gave a nervous laugh. âUh⊠I donât think hiking through mountains is really my thing.â
âAh, but how do you know unless you try?â Jadeâs smile widened. âBesides, Iâll be there to guide you every step of the way. No need to worry about getting lost⊠or encountering anything unexpected.â
The way he said âunexpectedâ made you want to run for the hills (ironic, given the circumstances).
âLook, I appreciate the offer, butââ
âI insist,â he cut in smoothly, his tone polite but with a note of finality. âAt least allow me to show you the clubâs activities. Perhaps a short hike this weekend? Iâve already prepared a route.â
You stared at him. âYouâve alreadyâŠ?â
âOf course.â His gaze was calm, calculating. âPreparation is key. Iâve even packed a lunch.â
You didnât know whether to laugh or cry. âJade, Iââ
He tilted his head, his smile remaining perfectly composed. âSurely you wouldnât refuse without at least giving it a chance? Iâve put so much thought into this.â
âWhy do I feel like I donât have a choice?â you muttered.
Jadeâs smile was razor-sharp and utterly unrepentant. âBecause you donât.â
You sighed in defeat. âFine. One hike.â
âExcellent,â he said, his tone soft and victorious. âIâll see you this Saturday at dawn.â
âDawn?!â
âOh yes,â he said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. âThe mountains are at their most beautiful in the early morning light. Youâll love it.â
As he sauntered away, leaving you to process your fate, you couldnât shake the feeling that youâd just agreed to something far more treacherous than a simple hike.
Gargoyle Research Society
The moment you finally reached Ramshackle Dorm, exhausted from the whirlwind of club-hopping and increasingly bizarre sales pitches, you let out a long sigh of relief. The day had been nothing short of chaotic, and all you wanted was to collapse onto your creaky old bed and forget the words âclub activitiesâ ever existed.
But just as your hand touched the doorknob, a familiar voice, deep and regal, called out from the shadows.
âChild of man.â
You jumped slightly, spinning around to see none other than Malleus Draconia emerging from beneath the pale light of the moon, his presence as imposing and enigmatic as always. He stood by one of Ramshackleâs crumbling stone walls, his expression calm but his eyes bright with an unreadable intensity.
âOh, Malleus,â you said, your voice tinged with weariness but also a touch of warmth. âDidnât see you there.â
He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. âI was merely admiring the architecture of your dorm. It has a certain⊠wistful charm.â
You smiled faintly. âI guess thatâs one way to put it.â
Then, with the sort of graceful confidence only Malleus could manage, he stepped closer, his presence looming but never threatening. âI have heard,â he began, his tone soft and deliberate, âthat you have been seeking a club to join.â
You blinked at him, caught off guard. âHow did youââ
âThe winds carry whispers,â he said cryptically.
âRight,â you muttered, deciding not to question it.
Malleus folded his hands neatly in front of him, looking every bit the picture of regal sincerity. âIf you have not yet made your decision⊠I would like to invite you to join my club.â
Your brain, still reeling from Jadeâs mountain escapades and Leonaâs managerial demands, stalled for a moment. âYour⊠club?â
âYes,â he said, his voice brimming with quiet pride. âThe Gargoyle Research Society.â
âThe⊠what now?â
âThe Gargoyle Research Society,â he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. âI am both its founder and sole member.â
Of course, he was.
Malleus seemed oblivious to your stunned silence as he continued, his expression softening into something almost earnest. âThe society is dedicated to the appreciation and study of gargoyles. We explore the campus, observing their intricate designs and marveling at their history. There is so much beauty in their silent watch over us.â
You blinked. âSo⊠you just walk around and look at gargoyles?â
âPrecisely,â he said, his tone unironically enthusiastic.
âAnd⊠thatâs it?â
Malleus nodded solemnly. âIndeed. It is a noble pursuit, one that nurtures both the mind and the spirit.â
For a moment, you were at a loss for words. Of all the clubs youâd encountered today, this might just take the crown for most niche.
Malleus, however, seemed utterly earnest. His eyes bore into yours, his expression sincere and unguarded. âI understand if this does not align with your current interests,â he said, his voice softening. âBut should you ever feel the call of the gargoyles⊠know that you are always welcome.â
There was something so genuine in his tone, so quietly hopeful, that you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about brushing him off. You sighed, offering him a tired but sincere smile. âYou know what? Iâll definitely consider it.â
Malleusâs eyes lit up, his calm demeanor giving way to a flicker of pure joy. âTruly?â
âTruly,â you said, nodding.
âThen I shall look forward to the day you join me,â he said, his voice as soft as a promise.
With that, he gave you a small, graceful bow before disappearing back into the night, leaving you to wonder how youâd managed to end the day not only agreeing to a potential club but also feeling oddly flattered by the idea of studying gargoyles.
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. âWhat a dayâŠâ
Masterlist
might do a part 2 where a club is chosen
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#riddle rosehearts x reader#ace trapolla x reader#deuce spade x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#jamil viper x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#epel felmier x reader#rook hunt x reader#idia shroud x reader#orthro shroud#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#silver x reader#leona x reader#malleus x reader#jamil x reader#vil x reader
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We NEEED Batfam with a s/o who is the kindest person to ever walk in Gotham City. Iâm talking they have no bad bone in their bodies and ALWAYS seeâs the good in other people.
Dick found you to be refreshing.
He found your pension for helping others, even the scummiest of individuals, into a better future. However he has seen how people could take advantage of a person unlike themselves out of greed, envy for their willpower to keep believing when theyâve all but given up, and anger that they still smile even when the situation is against them.
He couldnât help but found your want to see Gotham be better admirable and how youâd wish to see the city better itself for the people that live inside it but Gotham was a city with no cure, nor wanted to be healed no matter how hard others have tried. This doesnât mean Dick was apprehensive towards your dream, if anything he shared that vision with you as it was a dream heâd love to see com true one day.
âYouâre far too kind for a city like this sweetheart.â Dick said once after he saw you give some kids from Crime Alley a generous amount of food and the money from your wallet/purse, smiling softly as you watched them run away with full stomachs and money in their tightly protected pockets.
You shrugged, looking at him with a soft glint in your eyes. âThat might be true but that doesnât mean Iâm going to run away when the going gets tough or loose my way.â You replied as you returned to his side, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing. Dick smiles as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it before letting it drop between the two of you, feeling a lot lighter under your gaze as he found himself wanting to stay in this moment forever before Gotham soured even the most innocent of interactions you two shared.
âThen Iâll gladly stand by your side and help you see this dream through, if youâre not giving up then Iâm not giving up either, I promise you that.â Dick vowed as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, letting himself linger there as he embraced your warmth against Gothamâs bitter cold air that tried to separate you, for it knew that you two were a formidable force to be reckoned with. You sighed, leaning towards his touch and relishing how comforting it was.
âIâd rather have no one else by my side than my dickie bird.â You said softly as Dick pulled away to smile at you. âI just donât want to see more kids suffer more than theyâve already have, whether itâd be by the hands of their parents or corrupt authority figures.â You tell him as you looked back down the alleyway the kids ran down, smile wavering a little as you could only imagine the cruelty they suffered and at such a young age too. âTheyâve already endured enough and theyâre all the more braver for not letting it destroy their spirit.â You add as you could only hope that those kids remember this small act of kindness and hold it to their chest well into their adulthood.
Dick looked at your fondly and found himself all the more amazed by you and your unending desire to see the better in people, fully believing that they can change whenever they felt ready to, even the most lost individuals can find their way back with the help of a guiding hand. People like you are what Gotham desperately needed to lead the city into a better and brighter future, you were able to find it within yourself to be kind and loving towards those that would spit at your shoes, letting them see that you werenât so easily swayed to step away from someone in pain.
âIâm sure they will,â Dick reassured you by squeezing your hand, âitâs hard to forget an act as selfless and sincere as yours honey.â
âThank you Dick.â You uttered softly as you cuddled yourself into his side, resting your head against his chest to listen to his calming heartbeat.
âJust speaking the truth and from the heart.â Dick responded as he kisses the top of your head, wanting nothing more than to make you happy just like you have been making him happy throughout your relationship. âThis town will heal, itâll be long, but itâll heal in its own time.â He adds as you both walked home to be greeted by your sweet baby Hayley.
Gotham will healâŠjust give it time and patience.
Damian found your kindness to be glaring.
It was a beacon for the weak to prey upon and your hope for Gotham was one that came from that, hope. Gotham was the city where hope and ideals for a better future came to rot and die and Damian couldnât help but scoff a little because a person like you would never survive in this town, for the people of Gotham could smell your naivety from a mile away and hunt you down until you became like them.
Which was why Damian often found himself by your side and pointing his sword at the throats of those stupid enough to be enamoured by your bright, hopeful presence, even going so far as to cut them just to prove a point. âBack off cretin.â Heâd all but growl at them and watch as they scurry off like rats.
Youâd look at him with the expression of an upset puppy as he sheathed his sword. âDamian.â You groaned.
âTheyâd only come back for more if you conceded to their whims my love.â Damian replied calmly as he cupped your face between his hands, resting his head against yours to look deeply into your eyes. âAnd I do not intended for my beloved to be used by the miscreants that littler the street like discarded toys, bent out of use and lost all purpose but to kill the will of those that still believe.â He could see the hurt and the disbelief in your eyes before the look of resilience took over your face as you smiled sweetly at him, taking his breath away.
âThen Iâll keep believing for the people who canât, wonât or have long since given up all hope that Gotham can be better than what theyâre forced to believe as truth.â You said and Damian couldnât help but find your tenacity and determination to keep strong when all seems bleak and depressing admirable. However he couldnât help but want to usher you away from the utter madness that he had seen with his bare eyes, keep you from ever seeing this town for what it truly was; chaos incarnate.
The town was constantly tearing itself apart and putting itself together again but by only using the worst parts of itself over and over again until it could do nothing but collapse in on itself, dragging everyone else down with it in the process, implicating a sense of darkness and despair that could leave even the most strong willed of people to wonder whether it was worth it and Damian didnât wish for you to loose that light, nor hope for a better Gotham.
âYou are truly an enigma my treasure.â Damian sighed as you kissed his cheeks, nose then lips quickly, making him smile softly as he closed his eyes to embrace your affection. âStubborn yet sweet, kind yet headstrong, hopeful yet knowledgeable. That is the kind of person you are and I do not wish to see you falter to this cityâs darkness, for a cage is not a place for a bird that is meant to be free from all restraints to itâs ability to fly.â Damian murmurs as he kisses your forehead.
âAnd Iâm glad to have someone like you dami.â You said happily as you admired his emerald eyes. âBut I just wish for the betterment of the people here, doesnât everyone deserve a second chance?â You then asked as your hopeful eyes twinkled like the stars above, bright and vibrant, so unlike the eyes of everyone that resided in Gotham which were dull, lost and angry.
âNot everyone my love.â Damian counters, ârehabilitation can only take them so far before they realise that they can abuse the help given to them with the hope theyâd do better once out, while that might be the case for some but there are those who see an opportunity to take from the giving.â You sighed, still smiling at him as you recognised that he was equally as stubborn in his own views, just as much as you were stubborn in yours.
âThat is true but I just canât afford to give up, not when this city is crying out for help but only receiving bloodshed and corruption.â You reached out and rubbed his arms soothingly. You were too kind to a town that reeked of blood and violence Damian deducted from your first meeting, having found it rather childish and naive, but now he saw this as something that should be valued and appreciated while it could and Damian internally vowed to keep this light within you alive and burning for as long as he could.
For you were his hope just as much as Gothamâs.
Jason finds you to be the purest and sweetest soul amongst the piss and shit that made up the rest of Gotham.
The light in the dark for many, but unfortunately that means that youâd also attract the attention of people whom Jason saw as people whoâd take advantage of a soul like you.
So much so that he would rest his hand on your wait and pull you away when some suspicious looking man walked up to you, hands cupped together with a pathetic look upon his face as he pleaded with you, never once looking at him because the punk knew he couldnât fool him with his character so he went for you instead like a coward.
âIâm pretty sure Iâve got some money I can spare-â you said sweetly as you tried to reach for your wallet/purse.
âNo.â Jason said as he stops you and glares at the man who looked back at him with a face that only confirmed what he had already assumed upon seeing him; he was taking advantage of you for his own benefit and was pissed that Jason was guarding you from his schemes. âHe can scrap the shit off of the pavement and feed himself with it.â Jason adds as he proceeded to pull you away from the man who only spat near his shoe and slunk away into the alleyway, waiting for someone else he could take advantage of.
âJason!â You exclaimed, wanting to truly help the man in hopes heâd change his ways for a more productive one.
âYou canât think you can heal everyone chipmunk, then theyâll think they are entitled to everything you have and will want to take every piece of you until thereâs nothing left for them to benefit from, where theyâll leave your body to rot until they can find a new soul to dig their claws into.â Jason replied firmly but the moment he saw your saddened look he sighed and tipped your chin up with his finger. âHey,â he began softy, âa soul like you is unique, precious as a jewel, and you shine too brightly that youâve become a beacon for the worst this shit town has to offer but Iâm not going to let them.â He finished as he kissed your forehead.
âI just canât expect you to protect me all the time.â You retorted as you held his face between your hands, caressing his cheeks in a soothing manner and smiling as he melted into your touch. âI canât help who I am, I just want the best for everyone and I canât help but hope that Gotham heals itself for the betterment of its people.â Jason couldnât help but look at you lovingly as he brought you in closer to him so that you were pressed against each other, the closeness was enough to calm his thoughts.
You were too good to be true in Jasonâs eyes and would far better in a city far, far away from Gotham in hopes that the poisonous town doesnât seep into you, but you were not only kind but far too stubborn to do such a thing; especially when there was people to help and Jason couldnât help but find beauty in your will to do right by the people, even the ones that he didnât think were worth the tireless effort of saving but that was the kind of person you were and he loved you all the more for being true to yourself.
âIâm not asking you to change. I could never ask you to stop being who you are because itâs people like you that Gotham needs most, not violence or hateful comments, just someone who genuinely wants to help for the sake of bettering a community who donât have the resources to help themselves and be a guiding hand for the hopeless.â Jason kisses you on the lips. âThatâs the person I fell for, an absolute angel.â He finishes as he cradled you even further against his chest as he felt you cling onto him.
You were far too sweet for a sour town like Gotham but Jason was going to be with you no matter what, an angel like you needs someone like him who can protect you from the corrupt and the evil that lurks beneath the surface, or shows their face proudly in a town where hope comes to die. Jason will protect his light, his angel, his cheeky little chipmunk who often steals his hoodies when they missed him for you were worth more than heâd ever let this putrid city know. Heâll protect what is his and wage war on those who seek to hurt his hope for Gotham.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd imagines#jason todd x you#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader
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EASY ACCESS ËË ìŽíŹìč
after a whole year together, heeseung suddenly breaks up with you, to your surprise. mere days later, you see him at a party with another girl. you decide to do the only thing you could think ofâget back at him. except⊠it doesnât go quite to plan.
pairing âžâž lee heeseung đ„ fem!reader feat. ê đŽđđȘđšđ©đ” đłđŠđŁđ°đ¶đŻđ„!đ«đąđŹđŠ
genre â đ âžâž exes to ???, smut with a tiny bit of plot, some angst because i canât control myself iâm sorry
warnings âžâž unprotected sex, hard dom!heeseung, jealousy, possessiveness, mirror sex, bathroom sex, very very messy and rough sex (he loves it messy), multiple orgasms, ruined makeup, fingering, clit stimulation, slight dacryphilia, hands on neck (not quite choking), overstimulation, creampie, hair pulling (f. rec), backshots, brief blowjob / deepthroating, manhandling, dirty talk
kipoâs note âžâž once again pushing the wc for my drabbles lmao.. havenât wrote exes getting together again in such a long time, so here you all go, served up to you on a silver platter!! sorry for all the rough sex lately, iâm such a hard/mean dom girlie⊠hehe enjoy!! ^^
Í Í ÍÍ Í ÍÍ Í Í Í ÍÍ Í ÍÍÂ Â Í Í Í Í ÍÍ Í ÍÍ Í Í Í ÍÍ Í ÍÍÂ Â Í Í Í Í ÍÍ Í ÍÍ Í ÍÍ Í âš 2.8k â© â± âš đ¶.list â© Í Í ÍÍ Í ÍÍ Í Í ÍÍ ÍÍÂ Â Í ÍÂ Â ïž”ÍĄÂ Â Â đđĄđĄ đđđđđđđđ đđŁđ đ§đđđĄđ€đđš đđ§đ đŹđđĄđđ€đąđ (ââżâ)âĄ
you didnât even need to feel his burning gaze following your every move to know that his eyes were on youâand only you. it was what you had hoped for, and everything was going to plan.
to be honest, you werenât listening to a word that jake was saying. you were too busy looking at heeseung from your peripheral vision, seeing the anger build up in him brick by brick until you practically saw steam coming out of his ears.
you subtly watched as he glared at jake, glared at how close you were to him, and glared at how you smiled at whatever he was saying. you felt as his eyes trailed your body and the dress that you were wearing that was so short that your ass was almost hanging out and that barely covered your tits.
you were laying it on thick, but you didnât think either boy knew it. jake told you a joke you didnât care to listen to and you laughed flirtatiously, laying your hand on his bicep as you leaned into him. âyouâre so funny,â you smiled, batting your eyelashes at him.
bullseye. you saw heeseung down his drink and push away from the wall he was leaning on, completely abandoning the girl he had brought with him to the party just mere days after the two of you had broken up. a whole year together completely forgotten, just like that.
well, two can play at that game.
you pretended not to notice him coming up to you. you acted shocked at the way his arm possessively wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. inside, you were laughing at how heeseung had barely contained the anger radiating off of him. âi think sheâs had too much to drink,â was all he said, lookingâor more like glaringâat jake instead of you. you didnât even get to protest since heeseung was already dragging you away.
he pulled you into a less crowded hallway and you pushed him off of you. âyou donât get to do thatânot anymore,â you exclaimed. you havenât even had anything to drink tonight. there wasnât even a cup in your hand.
heeseung didnât get to act like the jealous boyfriend when he was the one who broke up with you. you just wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine. see how much he likes it when youâre all up on a guy days after your breakup.
âi can do whatever i want,â heeseung said matter-of-factly. he dragged you into the nearby bathroom and slammed the door behind you, locking it. âbecause whether you like it or not, youâre still mine.â
his words went straight to your core and you leaned backwards against the cold marble of the sink, trying to subtly press your thighs together. heeseungâs eyes trailed your body againâfocusing particularly on the way the dress you wore adhered to your bodyâlike a hunter watching its prey.
heeseungâs eyes snapped abruptly to yours and you watched the corner of his mouth curve into a smirk. âbesides,â he said, stepping towards you and caging you against the sink with his body, âi donât remember you telling me to stop.â
his finger hooked under the thin strap of your dress and slowly started to pull it down your shoulder. he leaned down and his breath fanned against your jaw. âjust like you arenât stopping me now,â he continued. âthis is what you really wanted, wasnât it? were you that desperate for my touch after i dumped you that you resorted to making me jealous? you know i donât play nice.â
you inhaled sharply, words caught in your throat. instead, you pushed him away from you again and heeseung stumbled backwards a few steps with a laugh. âyou forget that i know you like the back of my hand,â he said.
glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest and the action only made your tits spill out of your dress more. âyou donât know anything!â you spewed.
in one swift motion you were pulled towards him and spun around so your ass was pressed against the bulge in his pants. heeseung held you flush against him, his lips at the shell of your ear. you let out a small whimper and he chuckled. âi know that all this was purposeful,â heeseung started. âlike this dress you wore⊠youâre practically begging me to fuck you.â
his hand slid down to your lower stomach, pressing down onto it so you felt just how hard he was through the material of your dress. you breathed heavily as you fought the thoughts of his hand sliding down farther, of him touching you where you really needed him. you were dripping at the idea and your pussy throbbed.
âi bet if i move my hand down furtherâŠâ his hand trailed downwards, just barely hovering at the bottom of your dress, ââŠwe could both see how wet you really are. so needy⊠are you even wearing anything underneath?â
instead of checking for himself, he trailed his hand back up your body and cupped your tit. you swallowed the whine that tried to escape your mouth and heeseungâs rich laugh filled your ears. âi know that you know i donât like being jealous,â he spoke as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
your eyes met his through the mirror in front of you and you looked at how pathetic you looked. your chest rose and fell heavily and if werenât for the way the two of you were standing your thighs would be squeezed together too. heeseung was barely doing anything to you and you were already falling apart. you didnât even have to say anything for him to know that he was right.
with one hand, heeseung took hold of your chin so your gaze stayed focused on the two of you in the mirror. he made you watch as he trailed his hand down your stomach, his touch lighting up your body and making you breathe harder. he leaned towards the shell of your ear, a smirk on his lips. in a low voice, he said, âyou know i donât like people playing with whatâs mine.â
heeseung grabbed the bottom hem of your dress and yanked it up to reveal the tiny thong you wore underneath. he then yanked down the straps of the dress so your tits sprang free of it. finally, his hand cupped your heat, the tips of his fingers grazing along your clothed clit and making you jerk as he pressed his hard-on further into your ass.
he hummed as he lightly rubbed his fingers against the soaked fabric, his eyes still on yours. âwhat was that about me not knowing anything?â he asked smugly as his free hand squeezed one of your tits.
you couldnât help the way your hips grinded against his hand and your eyes fluttered closed at the sudden pleasure. âwhat did you expect me to do?â you asked. your words lacked the punch you intended them to have and instead came out breathless and a bit defeated. âa whole year together and then you leave out of nowhere. now i see you all over some girl days after you left me like i didnât matter to you. who does that?â
heeseungâs pulled his hand away so he could instead slip it under the thong you were wearing, his fingers spreading your arousal through your folds. you gasped softly, your back arching and your ass pressing more into him. âwhy lead me on for that long if you didnât want me?â you continued through a small moan.
âwhen did i say i didnât want you?â heeseung retorted. âthat you didnât matter to me?â slowly, he pushed his fingers into you and you moaned louder, grateful that the loud music on the other side of the door drowned it out.
your eyes fluttered open, your mind barely able to form a coherent thought as he started to finger you. you watched as his hand moved underneath your thong and barely covered his actions. you met his gaze through the mirror once more. it was embarrassing that you were so wet that you could hear the sounds his fingers made as he sped up his pace over the muffled music. the loud moans that left your mouth were even more embarrassing.
âwhy leave then?â you managed to ask him.
âi like the hunt,â heeseung said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. his long fingers reached deeper into you and pressed against your sweet spot, making you gasp loudly. your wetness dripped down your thighs and your moans got louder as you tried to move away from him. heeseungâs hand moved to just below your neck as he kept you against himâa warning.
all you could manage was shallow breaths as his fingers rammed into you. you stood up on your tip-toes as your knees began to wobble. you were so close to the edge that you mind was clouded and you could barely remember the words he said, only the hurt that followed after. that was, until heeseung spoke again, his eyes boring into yours. âand you were starting to bore me.â
tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, both from pain and pleasure. you came undone on his fingers, covering them in a creamy white that left lewd sounds in its wake as heeseungâs hand continued to move. you brows knitted together as the tears fell down your cheeks. âb-bullshit,â you moaned out.
heeseung mightâve known you like the back of his hand but you knew him like the back of yours. he was lying. if he meant what he said then he wouldnât be in this bathroom with you, his hand covered in your release and his fingers inside of you knowing exactly what to do. he wouldnât even let his jealousy get to himâor even be jealous at all.
âyou're lying.â
heeseung pulled his fingers out of you and pushed you against the sink. he moved the two of you closer to the mirror so that you were almost face to face in a way. saying nothing, he stared intently into your eyes through your reflection before leaning down and turning your chin so you faced him.
now that you were actually face to face, your breath hitched in your throat. his lips hovered just over yours, barely an inch apart. âi didnât know how to express how i feltâŠâ heeseung said, âso i didnât say anything at all. i left.â
he closed the distance between the two of you in a rough and sloppy kiss. distantly, you heard the zipper of his pants and the sound of denim. he yanked the thong you were wearing to the side, just enough for him to have easy access to your already messy pussy.
you gripped tightly onto the marble counter of the sink as heeseung pushed his thick cock inside you, stretching you more than his fingers ever could. you moaned against his lips. you missed the feeling of him inside you, of how full you felt as his long cock went deeper and deeper. heeseung didnât waste any more time as he roughly thrusted into you, pushing your body further into the sink and towards the mirror.
âand you already told me you loved me.â heeseung pulled his lips off of yours and grabbed your chin. he faced you towards the mirror, the two do you almost cheek to cheek as he made you watch him fuck into you roughly at a fast pace. you felt your previous release drip down your thighs and your tits bounced at the vigorous pace. heeseung looked at you through the mirror, ââŠyou deserve better.â
heeseung moved away from you and grabbed your hips with his hands. you watched as his hips rutted into yours and skin loudly slapped against skin repeatedly. you could barely think, much less move with the way he was fucking you. it was as if all of that anger and jealousy from earlier flooded through him, only this time more towards himself, and he was taking it all out on your needy and waiting pussy.
you were a moaning mess, mouth agape and drool almost spilling from the corners as heeseung fucked you stupid. you fought to process his words, realizing too late that he was telling you all of this with his cock inside you to distract you.
he was hoping that if he left you ruined enough that you wouldnât think twice about his words, that you would instead focus on your trembling legs and white knuckles as your hands cramped from how hard you gripped the edge of the marble counter. it almost worked in his favor.
âi w-want you,â you stated, head lolling to the side before falling down to the counter completely. âf-fuck!â you whimpered, your voice muffled. you were so close to cumming again and you didnât know how much more you could take.
âlook at me,â you heard heeseung say and when you didnât immediately obey he roughly pulled your head up by your hair and then towards him so your back was against his chest. you whined in protest that was quickly smothered by another one of your moans as his fingers suddenly dipped down to circle your clit.
heeseung was breathing heavily and he grunted at the way you were clenching down around him. shallow moans left your lips as he thrusted into you and it wasnât long before you were cumming again. it dripped down your thighs and left you a sticky mess. more of your release dripped down heeseungâs cock and left a white ring at the base. if it werenât for heeseung pressing you against him you wouldâve fell to the tile below.
âcanât t-take anymore!â you cried with furrowed brows as you met his gaze in the mirror. the bathroom was filled with the sounds of your skin slapped against his and the wet sounds of your messy cunt. ât-too much!â
your body shook and heeseung just shushed you. âthe things i touch, i ruin.â he placed a soft kiss onto your jaw, completely contrasting his other movements. âjust look at you,â he stated.
he released his hold on you and you tumbled back down to the counter. heeseung groaned as he gave you a particularly harsh thrust. tears streamed down your face from the overstimulation, ruining the makeup you spent so long on, but a part of you also didnât want him to stop any time soon.
his warm cum filled you up impossibly more, spilling out of you and mixing with your own cum down your thighs. you forgot how messy heeseung likes you to be once heâs finished with you. ruined, like he said.
heeseung stayed deep inside you and you managed to lift your head to look at him through the mirror. his hand wrapped lightly against your throat for a moment before sliding up your neck and lifting your head higher. he gave you an almost satisfied smile. âi love how messy you are when iâm done with you,â he said as he pulled out of you and his cum went rushing down your thighs. âand always so fucking needy for more too⊠like you canât ever get enough no matter how much i give you.â
shifting away slightly, he leaned down and spread apart your asscheeks so he could get a better look at his work. âi-i like being ruined by you,â you sniffled as you breathed heavily, words coming out almost strained. âi like that no matter how undone i become, thereâs still more threads you can pull. pull them.â
heeseungâs eyes flicked to yours. âitâs not worth it. youâll only get hurt in the end.â
you turned towards him, âyou wonât hurt me.â you wiped the tears and streaked mascara from your cheeks with the back of your hand. heeseung was closer than you thought he was as he leaned over you. he leaned back and pushed you down to your knees.
he looked down at you through hooded lids. âyou deserve better,â he reiterated. you grabbed his hard cock and licked a stripe up it before sucking lightly at his mushroom tip. he moaned, his hands coming to rest at the back of your head.
âthatâs what you think,â you replied. âdoesnât mean itâs true.â
heeseung sighed deeply. he then pushed your head fully down his length, causing you to gag around him. you looked up at him with teary eyes and spit spilling from the corner of your mouth. âyou talk too fucking much,â heeseung said.
you then smiled, fisting his cock and watching as his eyes fluttered shut. âthen make me shut up,â you responded. an amused smile lifted heeseungâs lips and his eyes opened to look at you.
he gave you no time to say anything else before his cock was down your throat again. heeseung grabbed a fistful of your hair. âsuck,â he demanded instead, and you obeyed.
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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 đ also i listened to experience by ludovico einaudi the entire time i wrote this
summary: charles has always hated his life, he thinks, he doesnât 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 ChĂąteau 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 desirableâit 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."
Charlesâs fingers tightened around the stem of his untouched glass. âAnd what of my life? Am I to simply be a pawn in your political games?â His voice was calm, but a sharp edge lay beneath the surface.
His motherâs gaze softened slightly, though not enough to dissuade her resolve. âYou are the oldest, my son. The weight of the crown has always been yours to bear. This... is part of that burden.â
He didnât argue further, though every fibre of his being resisted. Instead, he rose, offering a clipped bow. âIf youâll excuse me.â
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 parentsâ expectations settling heavier than the crown he would one day wear.
Inside, the faint rustle of fabric caught his attention. The servant girlâher name unknown to him, as it was meant to beâwas smoothing the fresh sheets over his bed. She froze upon seeing him, her hands faltering mid-motion.
âYour Highness,â she said quickly, dipping into a small, practised curtsey. âI didnât realise you were returning so soon. Shall I leave and return later?â
He waved a hand absently, stepping toward the settee by the window. âNo. Stay. Finish your work.â
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.
âDo you ever wonder,â he began, his voice soft yet tinged with frustration, âwhy some of us are given so much freedom, yet chained in ways that others cannot see?â
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 herâtruly looked at herâfor the first time in a long while. Her expression was guarded, her posture poised, as though expecting reproach. âYou can speak freely,â he said, a rare hint of gentleness colouring his tone.
Her lips parted slightly, then closed again before she carefully responded, âI think, Your Highness, that even those with freedom often long for something else.â
He smiled faintly, though there was no humour in it. âSomething else,â 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.
âAnd what would you long for?â he asked, his voice quieter now but laced with curiosity. âIf you could have⊠anything?â
Her hands stilled, though she didnât lift her gaze. âIt doesnât matter, Your Highness. People like me donât waste time with such thoughts.â
âThatâs not what I asked.â
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, âI suppose⊠Iâd long for choice. To decide my own path, no matter how humble.â
Charles leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regarded her with an intensity that made her shift slightly under his gaze. âChoice,â he repeated, almost to himself. âThe one thing Iâve never had.â
She blinked at his words, her brow furrowing in confusion. He noticed the look and gave a soft, bitter laugh.
âYou think I have everything, donât you?â he asked, gesturing vaguely at the opulence surrounding them. âAll this, and yet Iâm to marry a woman Iâve never met. Smile on command. Produce heirs like some stud horse for the dynasty.â
âYour Highnessââ
âSpare me,â he interrupted, raising a hand. âIâm aware I sound insufferable. Poor me, the prince in his gilded cage.â
The corners of her mouth twitched, the faintest shadow of a smile threatening to appear, though she suppressed it quickly. âI wouldnât dare say so, Your Highness.â
âAnd yet youâre thinking it,â he said, leaning back against the settee, a faint smirk tugging at his lips now. âGo on. Youâve already said more than most would dare. Speak freely.â
She hesitated, then, emboldened by his unusual mood, offered carefully, âI think⊠itâs easier to envy a cage when itâs lined with silk.â
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.
âTouchĂ©,â he said, shaking his head. âPerhaps I deserve that.â
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. âYour Highness,â she said, her voice tentative.
He glanced up, his expression expectant.
âSometimes⊠cages are only as strong as we believe them to be.â
Before he could respond, she slipped out, leaving him alone with his thoughtsâand 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 servantâs 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 servantsâ 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.
âWait,â 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. âYour Highness!â she whispered, her tone panicked. She glanced around quickly, as though expecting someone to appear from the darkness. âWhat are you doing out here?â
âI saw you,â he said simply, his voice low, âand I followed.â
Her expression shifted from shock to alarm. âYou shouldnât have. If anyone sees you out here with meââ
âThey wonât,â he said firmly, stepping closer.
âBut if they doâŠâ Her voice dropped further, almost a plea. âIâll be dismissedâworse. Do you know what theyâd do to me for leaving the palace grounds with the prince?â
He stared at her, and for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of something other than despair. âPlease,â 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. âNo. I canât. I wonât.â
âIâm not ordering you,â he said quickly. âIâm asking.â
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.
âFine,â she said, her tone sharp but her movements careful as she draped it around him. âIf anyone asks, youâre my cousin visiting from the countryside. Keep your head down and your mouth shut.â
Charles nodded, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. âUnderstood.â
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.
âThis is it,â 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. âYou live here?â
âYes,â she said, clearly defensive. âItâs small, but itâs mine. No one tells me what to do when Iâm here.â
He didnât respond, too busy taking in the details: the flower boxes beneath the windows, the faint glow of a single candle in the window.
âNow youâve seen it,â she said, her tone impatient. âYou should go back before someone notices youâre missing.â
But Charles shook his head. âNo,â he said softly, his eyes still fixed on the little house. âNot yet.â
Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. âYou shouldnât have come in the first place.â
âPerhaps not,â he admitted, finally looking at her. âBut now that Iâm here⊠I canât imagine wanting to leave.â
She stared at him, her expression unreadable. The quiet stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she sighed again, softer this time.
âFine,â she said, stepping toward the door. âBut if anyone asks, I donât know why youâre here, and I definitely didnât bring you.â
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.
âBack already? I thought youââ
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. âWhat in Godâs nameâŠâ
âDamn it!â she hissed, pressing a hand to her forehead. âI thought you were working the late shift at the docks tonight!â
âI was,â her brother said, stepping forward and squaring his shoulders. His rough shirt and patched trousers bore the telltale marks of dock workâsalt stains and grime clung to the fabric. âBut the shipment was cancelled. Now you tell me why the bloody prince of Monaco is in our house. Did you kidnap him?â
âKidnap him?â she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. âDonât be ridiculous. He followed me!â
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 heâd never seen anything so fascinating.
âYour Highness,â the brother said, stepping in front of him with an awkward, hesitant bow. âI mean no disrespect, but do you⊠do you need me to call someone? Or are you in danger?â He looked over his shoulder at his sister. âAre we in danger?â
âNo one is in danger,â Charles replied, his voice calm. He turned to her brother with a polite nod. âThank you for your concern. Iâm here of my own accord.â
The girl pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. Meanwhile, Charlesâ 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. âWhat are you smiling about?â
He looked up at her, his expression earnest, almost boyish. âItâs beautiful.â
She blinked. âWhat?â
âHere,â he said, gesturing around the room. âItâs so cosy. Everything has its place. Itâs warm, lived-in⊠peaceful.â
Her brother raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. âYou call this beautiful? Your palace is five hundred times the size, and you think this isââ
âI know what my palace is,â Charles interrupted, though his tone held no irritation. âCold. Grand. Silent. This⊠this feels alive.â
She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. For a moment, she didnât know whether to laugh or scold him. âItâs a shack,â she said finally, her voice softer but still tinged with disbelief.
âMaybe,â he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. âBut itâs your shack. And itâs more honest than anything Iâve ever known.â
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.
âThis is a mistake,â she muttered to herself.
âPerhaps,â Charles said, still smiling, âbut itâs the best mistake Iâve made in a long time.â
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.
âIf youâre staying, Your Highness,â she said, her tone clipped as she focused on the food, âI hope you donât mind scraps.â She hesitated, then glanced at him. âAnd you canât tell anyone at the palace that I take the extras. Theyâdââ
âDismiss you,â Charles finished, his voice soft. âI wonât tell. You have my word.â
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.
âDo you need help?â he asked after a moment.
Her brother let out a short laugh, but she only shook her head without looking up. âNo, Your Highness, but thank you for the offer. I imagine peeling potatoes is beneath you.â
âNot everything is beneath me,â he replied, and while his voice was carrying a hint of dry humour, there was some seriousness to it.
She didnât 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. âThis is excellent.â
Her brother snorted. âItâs boiled scraps, mate. You must really have it rough if you think this is fine dining.â
âMax,â she warned, shooting her brother a glare.
Charles chuckled, dipping a chunk of the crusty bread into the soup. âMaybe itâs not fine dining,â he admitted, âbut it tastes real. Honest.â
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.
âYou should go,â she said finally, her voice breaking the quiet. She didnât turn to face him.
His smile faltered. âI donât want to.â
Her hands paused for a moment before she resumed tidying the table. âYouâve seen what you wanted to see. This is my life. And you⊠you have your own life waiting for you back there.â
Charles stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. âI suppose youâre right,â 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 servantsâ gate, she stopped and turned to him, keeping her eyes on the ground.
âThis is where we part ways,â she said firmly.
He took a step closer, and when she looked up, she saw something in his expressionâgratitude, 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.
âThank you,â he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. âFor the soup. For everything.â
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 couldnâtâor wouldnâtâname.
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 poisedâand, to Charles, perfectly insipid.
They sat across from each other in one of the palaceâs 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 motherâs 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.
âPerfect timing,â he said loudly, causing her to jump slightly.
She turned, clutching the pillow to her chest. âYour Highness!â she said, startled. âIâ I can come back later ifââ
âDonât bother,â 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.
âLet me tell you about the most dreadful afternoon of my life,â he groaned.
Her brow furrowed as she set the pillow back in place. âThe dreadful afternoon where you met the woman youâre going to marry?â
âPrecisely,â he said, sitting up slightly to gesture at her. âYou understand my plight already.â
âI understand youâre being ridiculous,â she replied, smoothing the cushions on the settee.
âRidiculous?!â he exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. âDo you know what she said when I asked her about her favourite pastime?â
âI donât,â she said flatly, clearly trying to stay focused on her task.
âShe said,â he continued, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm, âOh, I do adore embroidery. Thereâs something so meditative about it.â
She stared at him. âThat⊠doesnât sound terrible.â
He sat up fully now, gesturing emphatically. âDoesnât sound terrible? Itâs horrific! What am I to do with someone who finds stitching flowers onto fabric the height of excitement?â
âYou could try embroidery yourself,â she suggested dryly, unable to resist a small smirk.
He narrowed his eyes at her. âVery funny. No, what I need is someone who⊠who challenges me. Someone with fire.â
She arched an eyebrow but said nothing, turning back to the pillows.
âInstead,â he muttered, flopping back onto the bed, âIâm shackled to a walking lesson in decorum.â
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.
âMaybe,â she said carefully, âyou should spend less time thinking about what you donât like about her and more time figuring out what youâre looking for.â
Charles opened one eye to glance at her. âAnd if what Iâm looking for isnât an option?â
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. Then, she shook her head and turned back to her work.
âThen you make do,â she said simply.
He watched her for a long moment, his chest tightening inexplicably.
âIs that what you do?â he asked softly.
She paused but didnât turn around. âEvery day, Your Highness.â
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. âCharles! I just saw herâthe princess of England. Sheâs⊠stunning. Gorgeous. A masterpiece, really. You lucky bastard.â
Charles groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. âArthur, must you always barge in uninvited?â
Arthur ignored him, plopping himself unceremoniously into one of the velvet chairs near the fireplace. âI mean it. If I were you, Iâd have proposed on the spot. Did you see her eyes? Like polished emeralds.â
âSheâs⊠fine,â Charles muttered, his tone flat.
âFine?â Arthurâs voice rose in mock indignation. âBrother, Iâd trade places with you in an instant.â He leaned forward, his grin widening. âWhat is it? Not enough excitement for you? Too⊠proper?â
Charles sat up, his expression exasperated. âIf you find her so attractive, Arthur, marry her yourself.â
Arthur laughed, clearly amused by the suggestion. âOh, 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 Iâm left to look charming at parties.â
Charles shook his head, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He couldnât 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 heâd never known.
âWhat would it be like,â he murmured, almost to himself, âto marry someone who isnât royalty? Someone who isnât bound by these ridiculous rules?â
Arthur blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. Then he laughed, loud and incredulous. âAre you out of your mind?â
Charles turned his head sharply, fixing his brother with a challenging look. âIâm serious. What would it be like to marry a commoner? To live a life free of all this⊠pomp and pretence?â
Arthurâs laughter faded, replaced by a look of disbelief. âYou 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? Theyâd riot.â
âWould they?â Charles asked, his tone calm but insistent. âOr would they understand? Would they respect a prince who chose love over duty?â
Arthur shook his head, a faint sneer creeping into his expression. âYou donât know what youâre saying. A prince doesnât marry a milkmaid or a seamstress. Itâs not a fairytale, Charles. Weâre not⊠like them.â
The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.
âNot like them,â Charles repeated softly, his voice carrying a hint of disdain. âAnd what exactly does that mean?â
Arthur hesitated, then shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. âIt means we have a responsibility. A legacy to uphold. Marrying into royalty isnât just traditionâitâs survival. You think Father and Mother arranged your engagement for fun?â
Charles didnât respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, his mind churning. Arthurâs words grated against something deep within him, something that longed to push back against the boundaries of their carefully constructed world.
âMaybe,â he said finally, his voice low, âthe legacy isnât worth the cost.â
Arthur stared at him, his disbelief giving way to concern. âCharles⊠youâve been spending too much time alone. Or worseâreading poetry again. Get your head out of the clouds, brother. This is your life. Learn to accept it.â
With that, Arthur rose, clapping Charles on the shoulder before striding toward the door. âAnd if you wonât,â he added with a grin, âIâll gladly keep the princess company. Youâre a fool not to appreciate her.â
The door closed behind him, leaving Charles alone in the echoing silence of his chambers.
But his mind wasnât silent.
It churned, restless and defiant, filled with images of a life he might never know.
The chill of the autumn night bit at Charlesâs 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 improperâfoolish, evenâhe couldnât shake the gnawing thought of her.
He hadnât 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.
âYour Highness!â she whispered fiercely, pressing her back against the door as though to block the outside world. âAre you out of your mind? Iâll be hung if they find you at my door!â
He tried to smile, though he knew she was right. âI havenât seen you all week.â
Her expression turned exasperated. âThatâs not a valid reason to sneak out of the palace, Prince Charles.â
âIsnât it?â he countered lightly, though the heat rising in his cheeks betrayed the truth of how much heâd missed her.
Her sigh was heavy with frustration, but something softened in her gaze. âYou shouldnât be here,â 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.
âYouâve been ill,â he said, stepping closer.
âItâs nothing,â she replied, waving him off as she moved toward the small kitchen space. âA cold. Happens every year when the weather turns. Iâll survive.â
âYou shouldnât have to,â he said quietly, glancing around the room.
âLife doesnât wait for the sniffles,â she said with a faint smirk, though her movements were slower than usual as she reached for a bowl.
âThen let me help,â he said, surprising both of them.
She turned, raising an eyebrow. âYou? Help? What do you know about cooking?â
âAbsolutely nothing,â he admitted, grinning. âBut Iâm an excellent student.â
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. âFine. Peel those. Try not to cut yourself.â
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.
âYouâre better at this than I expected,â she said, handing him a spoon to stir.
He smiled. âCareful. If you keep complimenting me, I might come back for more lessons.â
She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. âCooking isnât glamorous work, Your Highness. Itâs just⊠survival.â
âMaybe,â he said, his tone thoughtful, âbut thereâs something⊠grounding about it. It feels real.â
She looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly. âYou really hate that palace life, donât you?â
He didnât answer right away, instead focusing on the steady motion of the spoon in the pot. âI donât hate it,â he said eventually. âItâs just⊠hollow. Every decision is made for me. Every word is calculated. I donât know who Iâm supposed to be in all of it.â
She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. âYouâre lucky, though,â she said softly. âEven if itâs hollow, you have a place. A name. People like me⊠weâre just the shadows keeping the fire alive.â
He stopped stirring, her words settling heavily in the space between them. âI donât think thatâs true,â he said after a moment.
She tilted her head, her expression sceptical. âNo?â
âNo,â he said firmly. âYouâre more than that. Youâre clever. Strong. Independent. You see things I never could.â
She blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his voice.
âThatâs what I like about you,â he added softly, almost without thinking.
The words hung in the air, and he froze, realising too late what heâd 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.
âYou should taste the stew,â she said, not looking at him.
He stepped forward, dipping the spoon into the pot and taking a tentative sip.
âItâs perfect,â he said, his voice softer now.
Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though she still didnât 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.
âWhat are you doing?â she asked, pulling the thick fabric around herself instinctively.
âYouâre cold,â he said simply, sitting back down and picking up his bowl.
She hesitated, looking at him with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. âBut youâll freeze without it.â
âIâll be fine,â he replied with a small smile. âIâve survived colder nights, army and all of that.â
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.
âDo you light a fire at night?â he asked, though he already suspected the answer.
She shook her head. âCanât afford firewood,â she said matter-of-factly, collecting their bowls. âItâs not so bad. We manage.â
âOh,â was all he managed to say, though the thought of her and her brother enduring nights in such cold unsettled him deeply.
She didnât 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.
âTake this back,â she said softly.
He pushed her hand gently back toward her. âKeep it,â he insisted. âFor tonight.â
She opened her mouth to argue but stopped, the words faltering. Finally, she nodded, her fingers tightening around the fabric.
âThank you,â 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 wasnât just a servant and he wasnât 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.
âWhy,â he began, his voice loud and incredulous, âis there monthsâ worth of firewood outside the house?â
She looked up from where she was patching a worn-out scarf, distracted. âWhat are you talking about?â
âThe firewood,â he repeated, gesturing wildly toward the door. âThereâs a mountain of it, just sitting there! Did you rob a lumberyard?â
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.
âI⊠I donât know,â 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 â C
Her cheeks flushed, and a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
Her brother leaned over her shoulder, reading the note. âC?â he asked suspiciously. âWhoâs C?â
She folded the note quickly, tucking it into her apron pocket. âNo one,â she said, avoiding his gaze.
Her brother narrowed his eyes but didnât 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 princeâs 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.
âYouâre back!â he exclaimed, grinning. âAnd youâre better!â
âAnd you just ruined the bed I made.â she chided but then moved on to adjusting a vase on the side table. âWell I must say, a lit fire at night changes a whole lot.â
He froze for a fraction of a second, then sat up, feigning ignorance with an exaggerated shrug. âOh? A fire, you say? Thatâs⊠good to hear. Fires are quite helpful, Iâm told.â
Her smirk widened. âIâm sure someone told you that.â
âPerhaps,â he said, swinging his legs off the bed and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. âBut weâre not here to discuss firewood logistics, are we?â
She rolled her eyes, walking around the room to dust the mantel. âThen what would you like to discuss, Your Highness?â
He sighed heavily, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over his face. âThe princess of England.â
She raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him. âOh?â
âI have to meet her again,â he groaned. âAnother tea, another tedious conversation about fabrics or her needlework or some other mind-numbing topic. I swear, Iâd rather duel blindfolded than sit through it.â
She snorted, biting back a laugh. âBlindfolded? Thatâs a bit much, donât you think?â
âNo,â he said, peeking at her from under his arm. âItâs perfectly reasonable.â
âOf course it is,â she said, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. âBecause whatâs more reasonable than a prince skewering himself just to avoid small talk?â
He sat up, clutching his chest theatrically. âYou wound me, madam. Truly, your lack of sympathy is cruel.â
She gave him a sidelong glance, shaking her head as she set the duster aside. âYouâre insufferable, you know that?â
âIâve been told,â 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. âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
He blinked, snapping out of his reverie, and quickly looked away, running a hand through his hair. âI wasnât looking at you.â
âYou absolutely were,â she said, crossing her arms and giving him a suspicious look.
âNo, I was⊠thinking,â he said, his voice a touch too casual.
She arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. âThinking about what?â
âAboutâŠâ He scrambled for an answer, then pointed toward the bed. âAbout how well you made this bed. Truly impressive. Best Iâve ever seen.â
She rolled her eyes again, but a faint blush crept into her cheeks. âRight,â she said, picking up her duster. âWell, Iâll leave you to your very important thinking, then.â
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 wasnât around, he searched for her without realising it. And as much as he tried to push the growing ache in his chest aside, he couldnât deny what was happening.
Heâd 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 didnât 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. âDo you have to sneak up on me?â
âItâs my room,â he said, smirking. âI can hardly sneak into my own space.â
She scowled, turning back to her work. âYouâre insufferable.â
âSo youâve said,â he replied, stepping further into the room. âBut you keep coming back. Perhaps Iâm growing on you.â
âI come back because itâs my job,â she retorted, moving to dust a nearby shelf.
He followed her, leaning lazily against the furniture. âA job you seem to excel at. Though I wonder⊠do you enjoy tormenting me as much as I enjoy tormenting you?â
She shot him a sharp glance, but the corner of her mouth twitched. âSomeone has to keep your ego in check, Your Highness.â
He chuckled, reaching out to pluck the duster from her hand. âYou do it so well,â he murmured, his voice low.
Her breath hitched slightly as he leaned closer, her eyes darting to his before flicking away. âYou should stop doing that.â
âDoing what?â he asked, his voice soft and teasing as he leaned closer still, his face mere inches from hers.
âWhatever it is youâre doing,â 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.
âCharles?â his brotherâs 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.
âWhat are youââ 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.
âStay quiet,â he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
A beat passed, and she whispered back, her voice laced with frustration, âIf we get caught, itâll be my neck, not yours.â
âNo oneâs getting caught,â 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.
âWhy are youâŠâ 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.
âYouâre trembling,â he whispered, his voice barely audible.
âYouâre too close,â she replied, though her tone lacked conviction.
The faintest smile curved his lips, though she couldnât see it in the dark. âYouâre not stopping me,â he said softly.
Before she could respond, his brotherâs voice echoed from the other side of the room. âCharles, where are you?â
He leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing hers. âStay still,â 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.
âSafe,â he said quietly, stepping back to let her out.
She stepped past him, her cheeks flushed and her breaths uneven. âYouâre reckless,â she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she hurried to gather her duster.
He smirked, leaning against the wardrobe door. âAnd youâre adorable when youâre flustered.â
She shot him a glare over her shoulder, but the pink in her cheeks betrayed her.
âGet back to work, Your Highness,â 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 Charlesâs 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, heâd barely turned a page. His attention was drawn, as it so often was these days, to her.
He cleared his throat, drawing her attention. âHave you ever taken a moment to rest?â
She glanced at him briefly before returning to her task. âI rest when my work is done.â
âAnd when is it done?â he pressed, setting the book down and rising to his feet.
She didnât answer immediately, her focus still on the brass handle in her hand. âWhen your chambers sparkle, Your Highness.â
He chuckled, stepping closer. âIt already sparkles. Youâve polished this desk so many times I can see my reflection.â
She huffed softly, clearly unimpressed. âThereâs still dust.â
He reached out, his hand gently brushing hers as she gripped the cloth. She stilled, her breath catching as his fingers lingered over hers.
âYouâre relentless,â he murmured, his voice low.
Her eyes flicked to his, wide and uncertain. âAnd youâre in my way.â
He smiled, his expression teasing but his gaze intent. âIâm rarely in anyoneâs way. Itâs a novelty.â
She tried to step back, but he moved with her, closing the distance between them. âWhat are you doing?â she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
âObserving,â he said, his voice soft, warm, as if he were sharing a secret. âYouâre endlessly fascinating to watch, you know.â
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, but he reached out, gently tilting her chin so sheâd meet his eyes again.
âYou shouldnât say things like that,â she said, her voice shaky.
âWhy not?â
âBecauseâŠâ She faltered, her lips parting as she searched for words. âBecause you shouldnât.â
He leaned in slightly, his hand still holding her chin. The air between them was heavy, charged with something neither of them dared name.
âYouâre trembling again,â he said softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles.
âIâm not,â she said quickly, but her voice betrayed her.
âYou are,â 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. âThis is dangerous,â she managed, though her tone was weak.
âFor you?â he asked, tilting his head slightly. âOr for me?â
She couldnât 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.
âYou feel it too,â he said, his voice low and intimate, as if the world beyond this moment didnât exist.
She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she finally pushed lightly at his chest. âYou⊠need to stop.â
For a moment, he didnât 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.
âIâm sorry,â he said softly, the sincerity in his voice stopping her in her tracks.
She didnât turn back to him, but she nodded slightly, her voice quiet. âDonât do it again.â
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.
âYouâve been distracted lately,â Arthur said, swirling his drink. âEven more so than usual.â
Charles leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. âHave I?â
Arthur arched an eyebrow. âYou spent half of tea with the English delegation yesterday staring at the window. Iâm pretty sure they could have declared war, and you wouldnât have noticed.â
Charles chuckled, though it lacked his usual mirth. He stared into his glass, the amber liquid catching the firelight.
âArthur,â he began, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
His brother tilted his head, curious. âWhat?â
âWhat would you think of⊠being the next heir to the throne?â
Arthur blinked, then laughed, loud and incredulous. âWhat, youâre not planning on dying anytime soon, are you?â
âNo,â Charles said, shaking his head, his lips twitching into a faint smile.
Arthur leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. âThen why would you ask that?â
Charles swirled his drink, his gaze distant. âJust⊠wondering.â
Arthur snorted, leaning back again. âAbdicating is social suicide. If youâre even entertaining the thought, Iâd advise you to stop immediately.â
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. âYouâre not thinking of abdicating⊠are you?â
Charles didnât respond right away, his jaw tightening as he stared into the fire.
âCha,â Arthur pressed, his voice rising slightly. âWhat the hell is going on with you? Whoâs put this absurd idea in your head?â
Charles glanced at him, his expression inscrutable. âItâs not absurd.â
âIt is when youâre the crown prince of Monaco,â Arthur snapped, sitting up straighter. âYouâd give up everythingâpower, privilege, our familyâs legacyâfor what? A whim? A fleeting fancy?â
âItâs not a fancy,â Charles said sharply, his voice cutting through the room.
Arthur blinked, taken aback by his brotherâs rare flash of anger. âThen what is it?â
Charles leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and staring hard at his brother. âWhat if I told you itâs something real? That Iâve found somethingâsomeoneâwho makes me feel more alive than anything this throne ever could?â
Arthurâs jaw dropped slightly, his expression caught between shock and disbelief. âYouâre serious.â
âDeadly serious,â Charles said, his tone firm.
Arthur exhaled, running a hand through his hair. âThis isnât just about a servant, is it?â
Charlesâs head shot up, his eyes narrowing. âHowââ
âPlease,â Arthur said, waving a hand. âYou think I havenât noticed? The way youâve been sneaking out, the looks you give when you think no oneâs watching? The firewood? Youâre an open book.â
Charles leaned back, a wry smile tugging at his lips. âI underestimated you.â
âAnd youâre underestimating the chaos youâd cause,â Arthur shot back. âDo you have any idea what this would mean for the family? For Monaco?â
Charlesâs expression hardened. âFor once, Iâm thinking about what it would mean for me.â
Arthur stared at him, the firelight casting shadows across his face. âYouâd walk away from all of this?â
âIf it meant being with her?â Charles said, his voice soft but resolute. âYes. I would.â
The weight of his words settled over them, and for once, Arthur didnât 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 herâher 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 feelâseen, 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 couldnât 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.
âYouâre pacing,â she said, placing the tray on the table. âThatâs never a good sign.â
âIâve been restless,â he admitted, stopping mid-stride. âAnd youâre late.â
She raised an eyebrow as she set the tea. âDidnât know I was on your schedule.â
He crossed the room to her, his steps deliberate. âI notice when youâre not here.â
Her hands stilled for a moment before she resumed arranging the tea things. âIâm just a servant, Your Highness. Surely you have better things to notice.â
âThatâs not true,â he said, his voice dropping.
She looked up at him, her expression guarded. âIt should be.â
He wanted to argue, to say it wasnât her place to decide what mattered to him, but the vulnerability in her gaze stopped him. Instead, he changed the subject.
âHave you eaten today?â
She frowned, clearly caught off guard. âWhy do you ask?â
âBecause Iâd wager you havenât,â he said, stepping closer. âYou work yourself to the bone.â
She shrugged, turning back to her task. âIâm used to it.â
âThatâs not an answer,â he said, his tone softer now. âCome. Sit with me for a moment.â
She hesitated, glancing at the door. âIf someone seesââ
âNo one will,â he said, moving to pull a chair out for her. âPlease.â
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.
âYou donât have to do this,â she said quietly, looking down at the tea.
âDo what?â
âTreat me like Iâm someone,â she said, her voice barely above a whisper. âSomeone important.â
His chest tightened. âYou are.â
She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, filled with a mix of disbelief and something elseâsomething 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.
âYouâre overworking yourself again,â he said, standing from his seat near the window.
âIâm fine,â she replied, her tone brisk as she moved to change the bedding.
âYouâre not,â he countered, moving closer.
She straightened, turning to face him. âWhy do you care?â
The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken truths.
âBecauseâŠâ He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as he struggled to find the right words. âBecause you matter to me.â
Her lips parted, her breath catching. âCharles, donâtââ
âIâm not trying to overstep,â he said quickly. âBut you should knowâI canât ignore it anymore.â
âIgnore what?â 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 didnât feel the same? What if she did, but couldnât 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.
âYouâre soaked,â he said, standing quickly. âYou shouldnât be out in this weather.â
She shrugged, setting the basket down by the door. âWork doesnât stop for a storm, Your Highness.â
He frowned, crossing the room to her. âTake off that cloak; youâll catch your death.â
âIâm fine,â 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. âWhy do you always insist on pretending youâre fine when youâre not?â
She stiffened under his touch. âBecause I have no other choice.â
Her words hit him harder than he expected. He reached for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her cold fingers. âYou shouldnât have to live like this.â
She pulled her hands back, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and caution. âWhat do you mean?â
âI meanâŠâ He hesitated, his heart pounding. âI canât keep pretending. Not anymore.â
âPretending what?â she asked, her voice quiet but steady.
âThat I donât feel this,â he said, stepping closer. âThat I donât feel everything for you.â
Her eyes widened, her breath catching. âCharlesâŠâ
âI love you,â he said, the words tumbling out, raw and unguarded. âIâve tried to fight it, to ignore it, but I canât. I donât want to.â
Before she could even stop them, tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head, stepping back. âYou donât mean that. You canât.â
âI do,â he said firmly, closing the distance between them again. âIâd give up everythingâthis title, this lifeâif it meant being with you.â
Her tears spilled over then, and she covered her mouth with her hand. âDonât say that. Donât even think it.â
âWhy not?â he asked, his voice breaking. âIf Iâm not happy hereâif I canât have the life I wantâwhat good is any of this?â
âBecause you donât know what youâre saying,â she said, her voice rising. âYouâve lived in a palace your entire life, with servants, banquets, comfort. You donât know what itâs like to live without it. To go to bed on an empty stomach. To wake up not knowing if youâll have work the next day. I canât do that to you.â
âYou wouldnât be doing it to me,â he said desperately. âIt would be my choice.â
She shook her head again, her tears falling faster now. âAnd what happens when you realise you canât live like that? When the reality of it sets in? Youâll resent me. And Iâll lose you.â
âYou wonât lose me,â he said, his voice pleading as he reached for her hands again. âI swear to you, you wonât.â
âI donât have a good life,â she whispered, her voice trembling. âI can barely take care of myself. How could I take care of you?â
âI donât need you to take care of me,â he said, his hands tightening around hers. âI just need you. I donât care about the rest.â
She looked at him, her eyes searching his, her tears glistening in the firelight. âYouâre asking me to believe in something that feels impossible.â
âThen let me prove it to you,â he said, his voice breaking as his own tears threatened to fall. âPlease. Give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Let me love you the way you deserve.â
Her resolve wavered, her breath hitching as his words sank in. She wanted to believe himâdesperatelyâbut the fear of what they would face, of what they would lose, loomed over her.
âChaâŠâ she began, her voice cracking.
âPlease,â he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. âSay yes. Just⊠say yes.â
For a long, agonising moment, the only sound was the rain pounding against the windows and the crackle of the fire.
âI donât know how to do this,â she said finally, her voice barely audible.
âThen weâll figure it out together,â he said, cupping her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. âBut donât push me away. Not now. Not when I know you feel this too.â
Her lips quivered, and she closed her eyes, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. âYouâre impossible,â she whispered.
âAnd youâre everything,â 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 kingâs 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.
âI need to speak with you,â Charles began, his voice steady but tight.
The king set down the pen he had been holding, his gaze sharp. âThis sounds serious.â
âIt is,â Charles replied, straightening his shoulders. âIâve made a decision.â
The king leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. âI see. Go on, then.â
âIâm going to abdicate.â
For a moment, the words seemed to hang in the air, the weight of them pressing down on the room.
Then, the kingâs expression darkened further, his voice sharp and incredulous. âYouâre what?â
âIâve decided I donât want the throne,â Charles said firmly. âItâs not the life I want anymore.â
The king rose from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate as he loomed over the desk. âDo you even understand what youâre saying? What youâre throwing away?â
âYes,â Charles said, meeting his fatherâs gaze without flinching. âIâve thought about thisâmore than you know. I donât want this life. I wantâŠâ He hesitated, his voice softening. âI want to live my own life.â
The king scoffed, shaking his head. âAnd what life would that be? One of obscurity? Of poverty? Youâve never gone a day without comfort, without privilege. You know nothing of what itâs like out there, and you think you can just⊠give all of this up?â
âI do,â Charles said, his tone resolute.
The kingâs eyes narrowed. âThis is about her, isnât it? That servant girl. Your mother mentioned her but I did not believe her.â
Charlesâs chest tightened, but he didnât deny it. âYes. Itâs about her. But itâs also about me. About what I want, who I want to be. And I know I donât want this.â
âDonât be a fool,â the king snapped, his voice rising. âYou think love is enough to sustain you? That some fantasy of a simpler life will keep you warm when reality sets in? She canât give you what you need, Charles.â
âShe gives me what I want,â Charles shot back, his voice fierce. âAnd for once, isnât that enough?â
âNo, it isnât!â the king roared, slamming his hand on the desk. âYouâre a prince! You have a dutyâto your family, to your people. You canât just walk away because of some fleeting infatuation.â
âItâs not fleeting,â Charles said, his voice dropping but losing none of its intensity. âI love her. And Iâd rather live a life with herâwhatever that looks likeâthan spend one more moment pretending to be happy here.â
The king laughed bitterly, shaking his head. âYouâre naĂŻve. You donât even know how to survive out there.â
âSheâll teach me,â Charles said, surprising even himself with the certainty in his voice. âI want to learn. I want that lifeâwith her.â
The king stared at him, his face a mixture of disbelief and frustration. âYouâre throwing away everything youâve ever known for a life of struggle. For what?â
âFor love,â 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.
âYouâre making a mistake,â he said quietly.
âMaybe,â Charles replied. âBut itâs my mistake to make.â
The kingâs lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze searching his sonâs face as if looking for a crack in his resolve. But Charles stood firm, his decision made.
âYouâll regret this,â the king said finally, his voice heavy with warning.
âPerhaps,â Charles said. âBut Iâll never regret choosing her.â
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 fatherâs 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.
âYou,â she began, her voice a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. âYou really went through with it?â
He stepped closer, his hands tucked behind his back, his face calm but his eyes alight with purpose. âI told you I would.â
She stared at him, shaking her head. âI thoughtâCharles, I thought it was just talk. Something youâd get over once you realised how insane it is.â
âWell, Iâm officially insane,â he said with a faint smile, stepping closer.
She dropped the sheet onto the table and turned to face him fully, her arms crossed. âDo you have any idea what youâve done? The crown, the throne, your entire futureâitâs gone. All of it. For what?â
âFor you,â he said simply.
Her mouth opened, but no words came. Finally, she shook her head, her voice trembling. âYouâre impossible. Do you know what this means? I canât work here anymore, not if you abdicate. The palace wonât keep me.â
âI know,â he said gently. âAnd I wouldnât ask you to stay here. Weâll leaveâtogether.â
âLeave?â she echoed, blinking at him.
âYes,â he said, stepping closer until he was just in front of her. âIâve been thinking about it. We can go somewhere no one knows us, where we can start fresh.â
She stared at him like heâd grown another head. âWhere would we even go?â
âItaly,â he said with a small smile.
âItaly?â she repeated, her brows furrowing.
âYes, maybe Marenello,â he said, his voice filled with conviction. âItâs beautiful, the weather is perfect, and⊠I donât know, it just feels right.â
She let out a soft, incredulous laugh. âCharles, I donât even speak Italian.â
He tilted his head, his smile widening. âThen, for once, Iâll get to teach you something.â
His words hung in the air, so tender and unexpected that she couldnât 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. âYouâre serious about this,â she whispered.
âCompletely,â he murmured against her hair. âIâm not afraid of starting over, not if itâs with you.â
For a moment, she let herself believe it could be possibleâthis crazy, impossible dream of theirs.
âWhen?â she asked softly.
âTomorrow,â he said, his voice full of quiet resolve. âAfter I sign the abdication papers.â
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, searching eyes. âAnd then what?â
He smiled, his expression both calm and full of determination. âAnd then we start the life weâve always wanted.â
She didnât want to be vulgar, she really didnât but she had to be honest.
She was shitting herself at the thought of being summoned into the Kingâs 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. âAre you sure about what youâre doing, Cha?â
Charlesâs pen hovered over the signature line, but he didnât 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 wordsâit was as if he was falling in love all over again.
âYou donât have to do this for me, Cha,â 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. âWell, there it is,â he muttered, his voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and resignation. âYouâre officially insane.â
Charles stood, his movements deliberate as he turned to face her. âGo back to your house,â he said, his voice steady but laced with an urgency that made her breath hitch. âPack your things. Tell your brother. Weâre leaving at six.â
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.
âYouâŠâ she began, her voice trembling. âYou really did it.â
âI did,â 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.
âI love you,â he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.
She blinked, her eyes shining as she searched his face. âI love you too,â she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. Because she did, she didnât 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. âThen go,â he said. âPack your things. This time tomorrow, weâll be miles away from here. Together.â
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 heâd just done settling in his chest. But for the first time in his life, he felt truly free.
the end.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc x female oc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 fic#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fanfic#ferrari formula one#ferrari formula 1#ferrari#ann speaks#ann talks#prince charles leclerc
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TALK NERDY TO ME
âž pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
âž synopsis: you love to just stare at spencer as he info dumps
âž warnings: none!
âž a/n: this isnât proof read at all by AYYYY look at me writing again on here đ spencer reid is the new loml btw
You loved to listen to Spencer talk. And when I say love, I mean love.
He could ramble on about anything from the weather to the gravitational propulsion of the moon in comparison to the rest of the celestial bodies in our milkyway, and he could do any of it happily and until someone inevitably told him to just shut up.
That someone was never you though, and it never would be.
You didnât quite know what it was, but there was just something about the way he spoke that was entrancing. His voice, his focus, the way he talked with his hands, and how his volume would gradually increase as he got more and more excited and remembered more details about what it was he was explaining.
If he moved around, your head moved with him, swiveling about to keep up, awe-struck eyes stuck on him the entire time.
Spencer could infodump about the drying times of different paint brands and youâd hand onto every last word he said, just because he was the one saying it.
It was safe to say that the team had gotten sick and tired of the two of you quickly.
Nobody else wanted to hear Spencer rattle on about useless, unrelated topics, and they certainly didnât want to sit there and watch as you just prolonged the discussion by encouraging him to continue further just because you liked his voice.
And yet, it happens nearly every single jet ride without fail.
âI mean, really, itâs not all that uncommon for killers to write letters to their victims before killing them. In most cases, itâs seen as either a form of warning or of love. Thatâs why it never raises any red flags in most cases, because the victim is simply led to believe that they have a secret admirer of sorts. Oh! And a study done in the early 80s by Alexander Wilkins found that in over seventy percent of those cases, the unsub actually was in love with his victim or victims.â
Here Spencer was yammering on about false love-induced psychosis, and you were looking at him like he were professing his own undying love for you.
A hand propped up on the armrest of your chair held your chin, your big doe eyes watching him close and listening even closer.
You didnât even know yet if it retained to the case whatsoever, it was just a possibility that Emily happened to throw out there in the initial case overview, and now you were all listening to the history of psycho killer lovers.
Spencer caught a glimpse of your wonder-filled gaze and smiled, continuing on with his explanation with a newfound encouragement.
âThereâs no shot youâre actually interested in this,â Morgan grumbles to your left.
You seat a hand at him in a weak attempt to shush him, eyes still trained on Spencer.
He talked and talked for about ten more minutes before concluding the topic and being cut off by Hotch before he could cross into another one.
Taking the hint, he reclaimed his seat beside you, all rambled out for the moment.
When he does, you weave your hand through his, your hands resting together in his lap.
âI thought it was interesting, Spence,â You told him as a little boost of reassurance.
âYou say that every time,â he smiled.
âAnd I mean it every time,â you countered with a smile of your own.
âOh yeah?â He rose a brow. âCan you tell me a single thing I just said or were you just staring and not listening?â
After consistent it for a moment you realized that no, you couldnât tell him a single thing heâd said, having been too distracted with your enraptured staring to actually pay attention.
So you just smiled wider at him, leaning a little closer as you both dissolve into a fit of childish giggles.
#àšà§ love letters#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!readr#x reader#fluff#spencer reid fluff#cm x reader#criminal minds fandom
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Do You Believe in Fate? s.jy
ăpairingă : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader
ăsynopsisă : read the preview here
ăword countă : 15.3k
ăgenreă : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au
ăwarningsă : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! cursing, lot of nicknames, mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, hangover, poor mental state, kissing, cuddling, alcoholism, toxic friends (not jake), teasing, crying, begging, distress, groping (consentual), unprotected sex, pulling out, loss of virginity, lowkey size kink, oral (m and f recieving), titty sucking, sharing a bath tub, mentions of hospitalizations, implications of potential death, depression. this is a repost
ăauthors noteă : i want to thank everyone for motivating me to finish this story and writing this was truly an experience that will effect me as a writer moving forward. i am tagging all of my mutuals so hopefully i could get some feed back! i love every last one of you
ătaglistă : @jakeflvrz - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun-deactivated20241118 - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyuen - @sumzysworld - @wonsbaer - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @heeseungsbm
It was the summer before me and Jakeâs junior year of university. We have been working all summer and itâs another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected . Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong.Â
Both Jake and I are going through college together, though he landed a way better paying job than I did. When it comes to bills, he ends up having to pay more than me, but he swears up and down that it is not a big deal.
I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. Itâs Jake. âHello?â he should be at work. âHey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?â
âOh, no I canât think of anything.â Â âOkay, Stay safe, I will see you later.â
Jake never really got time off of work but when he did, I usually tried to stay out of his hair and let him relax. I just continued to run reports, pretty much twiddling my thumbs until the clock struck 5 and I would make my way out of this hell hole.
Traffic was terrible as usual. A usually 7 minute drive turned into an hour. Days like this I just want to get home and throw all my stuff on the ground and lock myself away in my room. Maybe watch some TV. Or listen to some music while my computer is hooked up to it. Anything that distracts from knowing I have to go back to the job I hate the next day. My thoughts are interrupted by a honk coming from behind me. The light turns green. Thank God. But as soon as I pull away from the curb, a car pulls out in front of me. Damn those stupid drivers. I donât even know how many times this month Iâve had to pull over so they could let someone pass. It isnât worth getting into a fight with them about. I try to ignore them.
I made it back to our house just in time for the sun to still be out. I made way into the house and Jake was in the kitchen. It was an unusual sight. His after work routine typically consists of cracking open a cold one and playing his computer. âHey princessâ he greeted me.
I stand at the front door, taking off my shoes and hanging my keys on the rack. âWhat has you in a good mood all of a suddenâ I ask suspiciously.
âWell since I got off work early, I figured iâd come home and suprise you with dinner since you just been eating so much take out recentlyâ he replied nonchalantly. The thought makes me sick. âYou didnât need to do that Jake.â âOh yes, I did. You havenât been cooking for yourself for a couple months now. I wanted to show you how much your best friend cares about youâ he says.
Reguardless of what I say, the food is made and there is no taking it back. I guess I canât really argue with him over it.
âAnd besides, I know you have missed your mom cooking pasta for us when we would go to her house in Australia, I figured I should make some do you insteadâ he adds.
I slowly approach the table. He is still finishing up plating everything. He looks up at me and smiles. âIt smells goodâ I say flatly. He takes off the oven mitts and wipes his hands on it. He sets my plate down in front of me and he pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat.
âSo how was your day Jake?â I asked awkwardly. He starts digging in and responds, âNot too bad. What about yours?â
âSame shit different day. Boss is always yelling at me and the company keeps treating me like garbage even though I am the only one who actually gives a fuck.â I complained, eating a piece of garlic toast. It tasted good, surprisingly good, considering the amount of spices he used.
âWell I am glad itâs Friday so you can take some time to unwind over the weekendâ he attempts to comfort me but at this point iâm too tired.
âI guess.â I poke at my food a little bit. Why does Jakeâs job seem so perfect? he easily makes twice as what I make and I rarely hear him complain about working either.
âYou donât have to eat if you donât want to, I am not going to force you.â I guess Jake noticed me being hesitant about eating the rest of my meal.
âItâs not that I donât want to eat itâs just that Iâm really stressed and I donât want to keep you here listening to me complain about the same things over and over againâ
âLook at meâ he said. I slowly lift my head for my eyes to meet with his. âI promise I will never get tired of listening to youâ he reassured.
There he goes again, sending those butterflies flapping in my stomach. I donât understand why he is so gentle and compassionate. It gives me goosebumps. I decide I might as well stop procrastinating and start enjoying the evening. âThank youâ I say, giving him a small smile. His face immediately lit up. Itâs kind of cute. The rest of dinner went rather smoothly. Jake kept the conversation going, mostly talking about my day and what his was about, and then we would drift off into silence. He looked so relaxed and calm that I felt completely at ease. Even if I knew I should feel bad for keeping him up with my whining, I couldnât bring myself to.
I stand up from the table and wash my plate. âI donât know if anyone told you today, but you look gorgeous as alwaysâ he sneaks up behind me. âYou donât look too bad your self Jakeyâ I returned. My face was already a dark hue of red.
I decided maybe tonight I wonât rot away in my room. Itâs a Friday night, Iâll have a little bit of fun. Still inside the house though. It is probably too cold outside anyway. I realize I am still in my work clothes. I return to my room to take them off and throw on my most comfortable pair of shorts and a talk top and take my Nintendo Switch to the living room.
Jake was already waiting there for me. He had a bottle of wine and 2 empty glasses. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I gave a shy smile and sat down next to him. He pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Our legs intertwined under the couch. For a moment I forgot about the work situation and the world. In that moment it just felt nice to sit close to someone who cared for me unconditionally.
âWhat were you wanting to play?â he breaks the silence. âI was thinking we could play some Mario Kartâ I suggested.
âYeah we can, but you already know Iâm gonna kick your assâ. He loves teasing me. I punched his shoulder and chuckled.
~~~~~~~~~~
He is in my bed. I just woke up and he is in my bed. I donât know how to react. Maybe I drank a little too much? I really donât remember anything after playing a few rounds of Mario Kart. He looks so peaceful. His dark brown hair all tangled up on the pillow. The way his biceps look in his black tank top. He doesnât snore, but the way he breathes when he sleeps is very cute. There is a slight hint of stubble on his chin, almost like he hasnât shaved in awhile. His lips are slightly parted. His face shows such contentment and relaxation. He looks so damn beautiful. I have to admit he is pretty attractive and I think he knows it. And I canât help but wonder about what would happen if I leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips pressed up against mine. I think it would be okay. Probably wouldnât hurt. Scratch that, it would probably hurt a lot.
I woke up surprisingly early for a Saturday morning. Usually I am in bed until noon, but itâs only 9:30. Opposite of me, Jake likes to start his weekends bright and early, so it is a bit strange that he isnât awake by now. I wonât bother him. Itâs probably better this way. I roll over onto my side facing away from him. I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep. But it seems to be impossible. My mind is too preoccupied and Jakeâs body is far too close to mine for my liking. I groan quietly. It doesnât help at all.
I crawl out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jake up. As soon as I step out of the room, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. Itâs my mom. I guess I hadnât returned and of her texts last night. She asks if I have slept okay and if Iâve eaten breakfast. When she sees I havenât. She sends me a picture of the last time I was at her house eating spaghetti. âJust eat something sweetheart and take care of yourselfâ she reminds me gently. I sigh deeply before replying. âMhmm thanks momâ I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and rummage through the fridge, hoping to find something appetizing for breakfast. As I search, I can't stop thinking about waking up next to Jake this morning. We've been best friends for so long, but recently I've started seeing him in a new light. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how considerate he is, it stirs up the feelings I've been trying to suppress. I shake my head slightly and settle on making some eggs and toast.
As I cook, memories of last night come flooding back. The wine, the laughter, the gentle way he pulled me close on the couch as we played games. My heart flutters just thinking about how natural and right it felt being cuddled up next to him. But I can't read too much into it. Jake is my oldest friend, he probably sees the intimacy as purely platonic. The sizzle of the eggs brings me back to reality. I quickly plate the food and grab a mug of coffee before heading to the living room. I'll just relax and enjoy this lazy Saturday morning.
I'm about halfway through my breakfast when I hear Jake's footsteps shuffling down the hallway. He emerges, hair sticking up adorably, letting out a big yawn. "Mornin' sunshine," he says with a sleepy grin. I feel my cheeks warm at the nickname. "Morning. I made some extra if you want it," I reply, nodding toward the kitchen. "You're the best." Jake passes over to dish up a plate, giving me a perfect view of his lean back muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. I quickly avert my eyes as he returns to the couch. As he sits next to me, our arms brush and I feel that spark of electricity again.
Jake doesn't seem to notice, just digs into his eggs happily. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again.
"That was a fun night last night, wasn't it?" His eyes meet mine with a warm smile. "We'll have to do it again soon." I return the smile, hoping he can't see the longing behind it. "Yeah, it was really nice." Nice to just relax and be ourselves without any expectations or pressures. Nice to feel...that close to him.ââââââââââââââââ
~~~~~~~~~~
Jake has a friend named Jay. When Jake isnât at work or at the house, he is most likely hanging out with Jay. Jay is a go with the flow kind of guy and was kind of a womanizer. Thereâs nothing wrong with it, but I try not to hang out with Jake when Jay is there for that reason.
Jake and Jay always go out for drinks on Saturday nights. I canât remember the last time he was home on a Saturday night and I didnât have to take care of him the next morning. He routinely stays at Jayâs house that night then gets an Uber back here the next morning.
Jake and Jay's Saturday night routine carried on like clockwork most weekends. Around 9 PM, Jay would pick Jake up and they'd head to their usual bar downtown. The two friends would drink heavily, telling outrageous stories and shamelessly checking out any attractive women who passed by.
For Jake, it was just a guys' night out away from work stress. But for Jay, it was a chance to flirt and see if he could add another notch to his bedpost. Jake didn't partake in that behavior himself, but he also didn't reproach Jay for it. He figured it was just Jay's way.
Come last call, the two would be pretty sloshed. Instead of dealing with an Uber that late, Jake would just crash at Jay's place. He'd wake up hungover the next morning and request a ride from a car service back home.
When he arrived home disheveled, I'd already have water and painkillers ready for him. I hated having to nurse him after these nights, but it was better than having Jay's leering presence around me. His constant objectification of women made me deeply uncomfortable. So I put up with Jake's hangovers to avoid that part of their friendship dynamic.ââââââââââââââââ
Jake opens the front door. I can hear him complaining about his headache already. He sets his keys down and immediately lays down in the couch.
"Hey babygirl, where is the aspirin? Do we have any aspirin left?" he asks groggily. A small chuckle escapes my lips before I turn around to look at him, smiling slightly. âI already got it out for you, and here is a glass of waterâ. His eyes are closed as I place the pills in his hand and he smiles once they make contact. âThank you so much for taking care of me princess.â he praises as he shot the tablets into his mouth.
I giggle. This man is ridiculous. A loud yawn escapes his lips and I smile. As much as I hate seeing him like this, I am content with letting him have his fun every once in a while. His shirt is buttoned incorrectly, showing off his muscular chest. I look back at his face. His eyes were opened and he noticed me staring.
âWhatâs wrong Princess?â he slurs. âDo I look stupid or something?â âNo Jake, you look greatâ I reply truthfully. âYou just looked a little tired is all.â
Jake rolls over on the couch and turns onto his side. âI know youâre going to tell me I should rest more, but itâs so hard to sleep when youâre not in the same room.â
âReally? You usually fall asleep within seconds. Why is that?â He shrugs. âDonât know babe. Just donât like being alone.â I frown. Thatâs true enough. Jake never really liked being by himself. Ever since we were in diapers, he had always been surrounded by people. His parents, coworkersâŠme.
I decide to ask something rather personal instead. Maybe that will distract us for a while. âHowâs your mom doing lately? Do you miss her?â Jake doesnât respond right away. He starts fidgeting under my gaze. His hands begin picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.
âYeah, yeah. I miss her. I wish she wouldnât be working so much now. She used to work less back when we were high school, you know? I still get worried sometimesâ he answers with a slight edge in his voice. âItâs okay Jake. You know she likes working for your dad. It helps pay for everythingâ I remind him softly. He nods slowly. After a few moments, he finally breaks the silence.
âWhy do you ask?â I guess he was caught off guard by the question. âI know itâs been a while since youâve seen them, Australia isnât in walking distance, ya know.â I try to cheer him up.
He sighs and looks down at the couch. âI guess I just wish I was able to spend more time with her like I did when I was younger. It doesnât matter though.â He shakes his head dismissively. âSheâll come visit whenever she can. Iâm just glad we both decided to live somewhere else for college. I would definitely have missed our family trips.â
âOhâŠâ I bite my lip unsure what to say to comfort him. Heâs always taken his mother very seriously. Even when he was young he often complained that she worked too hard and stressed herself out, which only made him madder. In all fairness, she did work extremely hardâeven harder than he ever could. And now that she has found some semblance of stability, he worries that he wonât be able to provide for her the lifestyle he wanted for her.
I reach out and pat Jake's arm reassuringly. "I know how much you miss your mom. But she's doing what she needs to in order to help take care of the bills and your dad. You know she'd be here if she could."
Jake nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish there was more I could do from here, instead of feeling so helpless being so far away. I know my dad would want me there as well" He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "At least I have you around. Don't know what I'd do. You kinda of bring a feeling of home to me. I hope that made sense.â
I feel my cheeks flush a little at his words. "Well, you know I'll always be here for you," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
âThank you sweet heart.â
~~~~~~~~~~
Our parents went to University together. Thatâs how they met. My mom met Jakeâs mom in a sociology class, and they have been best friends ever since. Being college bestfriend basically guarantees that your kid will have someone to grow up with, and they took advantage of that. He has litterally been there for every life event my mom felt was important enough to let him in on.
Though we didnât become friends by choice, we were latched onto eachother ever since we were introduced. I remember I would ball my eyes out when even Jake got sick because it meant I couldnât hang out with him after school or have play dates on the weekends. As we grew up, the situations werenât as innocent. I would confide in him when I was upset, and he would hold me in his arms after my nightmares. I even found comfort in him after my numerous hearts breaks in highschool. Though none of my relationships were ever that serious, I was still unmistakably heartbroken.
Jake was never really a ladies man in highschool, or in general. He studied more on acedemics, which I guess was a good idea considering where he is now. Although Iâd never said anything about it, his dating career was pretty dead for several years. In my opinion, it seemed unfair to Jake to not go on dates after highschool. While I understood why he wasnât interested, it seemed a waste not to try. After all, Iâm sure he could get any chick he wanted if he tried, I mean look at him. He had grown from a cute kid playing video games to one who had a perfect body and gorgeous features to match. So yeah, I loved that he was a boy and my friend. But there was no way I could give myself completely to such a man, especially with our history.
Jake is a lot different when Iâm around, a lot more caring and loving. Iâm reminded of all those times when I would find Jake crying when we came back from vacation during our sophomore year, or how he would suddenly appear at my room door at 5am looking for reassurance or help. At the time, I thought it was because he needed someone to talk to about the things troubling his mind, but now that I think about it , itâs kind of obvious heâs lonely. His dad has been in and out of the hospital recently. I donât really want to push Jake into going into detail about his condition because it might make him emotional, but I just know that it is another thing that is weighing on him.
When I first started seeing him more and more recently, I thought maybe he wanted us to become closer friends. I mean, he was always talking about how much he adores spending time with me, and how grateful he is to me for saving him and bringing him back to life. I think the situation with his parents are weighing down on him more than I realize.
~~~~~~~~~~
The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window pane fills the hushed stillness of my bedroom. I lie awake, Jake's sleeping form curled up beside me, his head pillowed on my chest. His eyebrows are furrowed even in slumber, mouth turned down in a soft frown - the worry lines etched across his features never seem to fully fade these days. Gently, I brush some stray locks of hair off his forehead, my thumb tracing over the crease between his brows. Jake's been carrying the entire weight of his family's struggle on those broad shoulders.
A quiet sigh escapes his lips and he burrows deeper into my side, one arm slinging possessively over my waist. We've been a tangle of limbs like this more nights than not recently. After the latest bout of bad news about his dad, Jake sought me out like a man wandering through the desert in desperate need of water. I remember the rawness in his voice as he begged to stay in his room, to be held and comforted, the same way I always have. Whatever Jake needs from me, he'll never be turned away.
Trailing my fingers through Jake's hair, I allow myself to drink in every detail of him in this rare moment of peace. The slight upturn of his perfectly sloped nose. The way his plump lips are parted just enough to allow shallow puffs of breath to ghost across my skin. He really is beautiful in the most masculine, rugged way. Not that I'd ever say that out loud - it would be mortifying if Jake caught me ogling him like some lovesick fool. Then again, I've been a lovesick fool for the better part of a decade when it comes to him.
Lost in the flow of my thoughts, I don't even register the soft snuffling noises at first. It's only when Jake's eyelashes start fluttering that I glance down to find him blinking up at me groggily. Without a word, he shifts until his head is cradled in the crook of my neck, placing a slow, scorching kiss to the exposed skin of the side of my neck.
The world seems to screech to a halt. That...was definitely intentional. Purposefully intimate. There's no way it was an accident or a brief moment of sleep-hazy confusion. Not with the way Jake's pupils are blown wide, his lips parting to reveal the tip of his tongue darting out to wet them instinctively.
Just as quickly as the spark ignited, Jake seems to deflate, burying his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder with a muffled whimper. His hands are fisting in the fabric of my sleep shirt, clutching me with a white-knuckled grip like I'm his lifeline back to the surface. Like if he doesn't hold on, he might drown. "Hey hey heyâŠ" I gently stroke the length of his spine calming him. "You're okay now, everything is alright, relax..." Jake's breathing gradually slows. Gradually, he begins to relax, his fingers slackening their death grip in my shirt.
A few moments pass in silence before he lifts his head and looks directly at me. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, probably from all the crying. Theyâre red and glassy, a stark contrast to his usually flawless complexion. "Sorry," he murmurs. I shrug slightly. "Don't apologize." After a few sniffles, I feel his breathing become more consistent and his face is dry. He starts to do that cute breathing that I talked about. After I realized that he has met some sort of peace and fell asleep, I fell asleep soon after.
~~~~~~~~~~
The morning light filters in through the cracks of my blinds, shining over Jake's sleeping body in a soft glow. My eyes trace the line of his jawbone, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest as he breathes. He looks so tranquil like this.
Jake smells so fucking good. If I could lay on his chest and take it his scent all day, I really would. Not to mention his face is extremely handsome. He has the face that other guys wish they had. Itâs very obvious he takes care of himself.
I can't stop replaying that moment from last night over and over in my mind. The heat of Jake's lips pressing against the skin of my neck. Part of me was desperate to surge forward then and seal my mouth over Jake's, to finally give in to the magnetic pull that's been drawing me to him.
But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I'm also terrified of what exploring these feelings could mean for our relationship.
Losing him isn't an option I can fathom. And he seemed to make the same choice in that moment by turning away, burying his face against my neck with a whimper that could have been either anguished or relieved.
We're cowards, the two of us. Content to dance around the fire instead of being set ablaze
Part of me wonders if Jake was hoping for something in return. Maybe a kiss? Maybe he did it to show it trust and comfort for me. He knows what he is doing. The moment his lips touched my neck, my whole body shivered. I wanted more but I contained myself.
My body still hums with the memory of his kiss, nerves tingling with equal parts of dread. I want to reach out and trail my fingertips over the golden skin of his forearm, to breathe him in and see if he tastes how I've imagined on my tongue.
How many more moments like last night can I survive before the truth comes out? I don't have the answers. All I know is that I'm still undeniably his - body, mind and heart.
It has been too many nights where I imagine his lips against mine. The way he chills my spine when whispers in my ear makes me crave hearing his voice. I wonder what he would be like in a relationship with me, he treats me like a princess already, I donât know how much better it could get.
My mind drifts to memories of him holding me tight when I was upset, his muscular arms engulfing me in a warm embrace. The feeling of safety and contentment that would wash over me in those moments. If I could experience that every night by his side, it might just be pure bliss.
I fantasize about waking up intertwined with Jake, our legs tangled together as we trade kisses and touches unhurried by the outside world. Combing my fingers through his bed hair while he peppers light kisses along my jawline.
Maybe there could be slowmake-out sessions on the couch, all heated caresses and desperate roaming hands before things inevitably progress further. I would lavish every sculpted line of Jake's body with devoted attention. I imagine he would be an attentive, generous lover, just as giving in the bedroom as he is in every other aspect of his life.
I also canât get over the mental hurdle that maybe it is kind of gross that I see my bestfriend this way. I could easily mistake all of the kind things he does and how he treats me as something more than what he intends it to be, and that would make me uneasy. I have never done anything sexual with him and anything that would imply sexual attraction, yet I am still here wondering what it is like to have sex with him.
~~~~~~~~~~
I really need to get my feelings sorted out soon because they are just going to keep building up until they eventually burst, and I really donât want Jake to witness that.The week went the same again. and again. and again. Wake up, go to work, do nothing after. But recently, Jake got a promotion at his job, which was grounds for celebration.
The local diner is busy with the lunch crowd, the air thick with aromas of burgers sizzling on the griddle and fresh baked pie. Jake and I slip into our usual corner booth, the cracked vinyl cushions molding to our forms like old friends. This place has been our go to spot since we started university here. We've shared so many moments in this very booth over the years. Happy celebrations or acing a big exam.
Which is why the thick tension clouding the air between us right now feels so alien. Instead of our usual easy camaraderie, I can barely look at Jake without my pulse kicking up. The memory of his firm chest brushing mine, those plush lips just a table length away, has my skin flushing hot. I squeeze my thighs together secretly, desperate for any kind of friction to alleviate the slow burn of arousal low in my belly.
Just being this close to Jake is enough to have that want unfolding all over again. Filling my head with flashes of how it could feel to finally give in - his weight blanketing me, our bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm as his mouth trails searing kisses along my neck. "Hey." Jake's low rumble jolts me out of the vivid fantasy.
"You're zoning out, sweetheart. Everything okay?" My cheeks flame darker, that suddenly seems too intimate. I duck my head, but not before catching the unmistakable smirk curling at the corners of Jake's lips. That insufferable, cocky smirk he knows drives me crazy. I want to kiss it off his stupidly perfect face. Or maybe bite at the sharp line of his jaw, put that arrogant look to better use while I'm straddling his lap and--
"Fine," I mumble, hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear to avoid meeting Jake's eyes. The small movement causes our elbows to brush together on the tabletop. His skin is so soft. Jake's brow furrows, like he doesn't miss the way I've gone tense and flustered all over again. Before I can blink, his hand is covering mine. Those long fingers tenderly stroking along my knuckles, smoothing over my suddenly clammy skin.
Slowly, purposefully, Jake tugs my hand closer until my palm is cupping his scruffy jaw. I suck in a sharp, shaky breath at the contact, at being able to feel the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against my sensitive skin. Jake holds me there for a moment, those meltingly warm eyes boring into mine like he's trying to read my mind.
Then, in the most tempting act of torture imaginable, Jake presses his lips to my wrist in the barest brush of mouth against pulse point. I swear I could die right then and there. He slowly pulls away, looking up to meet my eyes once again. Our gaze meets, intense and lustful, filled with a hunger that only he knows how to create. This feels so wrong, so dangerous. The fact he's staring down at my lips, licking his subconsciously causes a slight hitch in my breathing. A tiny part of me wants to lean forward and press my lips to his. But I stop the impulse with the thought of what we did last night, and the consequences of getting caught again.
Instead, I let out a sigh and break eye contact before pulling my hand away and placing my elbow on the table. I rub my thumb across my wrist absentmindedly while avoiding Jake's gaze, the words I want to say stuck somewhere inside my throat like rocks. There isn't anything I can do. What I have with Jake is different now. I'm scared shitless to tell him how I truly feel.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jake asks, worry laced into his tone. He places a hand on my thigh, making me jump slightly. âItâs nothing, reallyâ I lied. The server comes over to the table to take our order. âWhat could I get started for you to drinkâ he says.
-
Our meal goes by normally, Jake pretending that he had done nothing earlier. Afterward, we head home, the silence thickening the further into town we get. Thereâs nothing for me to say, no reason to prolong this conversation Iâm dreading anymore. He must sense my sudden change of mood. He drops his arm from around my shoulders and lets his hand fall limply back onto his knee.
We walk silently in the direction of our house. Neither of us speaking. Itâs almost as if weâre both waiting for the other to make the first move. I have an overwhelming urge to turn to him and kiss him.
~~~~~~~~~~
I canât stop thinking about Jake. He is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. Over the past few weeks, I feel like he has become a lot more touchy, which donât really mind. He smiles for a little longer when we eat together. We have slept in each others room a lot more often than before. I may just be over analyzing it.
Jake is going out with Jay again. As usual, I donât plan on him coming home tonight, and I will wake up to a hungover Jake. Jay isnât really the friend to take care of you when you feel ill, so that responsibility is left on me.
I hate to admit, but when Jake isnât home for a night, I fight the urge to sleep in his bed. I have been sleeping in his bed with him so often that it leaves me in withdrawal when we arenât in the same bed.
Just being in his room, his scent diffused in the air, it makes me miss him so much more. Even without thinking about the fact that it is his room, the bed is so much more comfortable than mine, which is all the better reason to sleep there.
I walk in, already in my shorts and t-shirt, and wonder around. He has the picture of us that his mom took when we were first leaving for Korea framed on his nightstand.
I pick it up and examine it closely. It is the one photo where we didnât appear stiff. I remember the day clearly; I was standing with him, grinning broadly. I never expected to smile so much when I was young, but my memories of our trip leave a bright happy feeling inside my stomach.
I set the photo back down and I lift the blanket from the corner of the bed. I slide into the bed, laying on his side like I usually do when he isnât here. I instantly melt into the sheets. I scroll on my phone whilst fighting my eyelids to stay awake, but eventually I fall asleep prematurely.
Jake usually keeps his room pretty cool, which calls for cuddling closely under the blankets. In the middle of my sleep, I am shot awake when my cold limbs are instantly warmed by an unexpected sensation. Why was Jake home?
Jake continues to get comfortable under the blanket, not even batting an eye at the fact that I was just sleeping in his bed. I pull him closer by his waist to fulfill the rest of the warmth that my body craves.
âWhy are you shivering sweetheart, you could have turned on the heater.â he worries.
âI wanted the temperature to be tolerable when you got back in the morningâ such a stupid explanation. âSpeaking of, why are you here right now? what happened to Jayâs?â I questioned, completely forgetting how we got into this situation in the first place.
âJay was feeling ill so we called it a night pretty early, I only got three shots down.â
Jake runs a lazy finger over my hip bone and leans in to nuzzle the crook of my neck. Shit. Heâll notice the way I react to his touches and I wonât be able to explain myself. Fuck.
âI thought I would come to my room and catch up on sleep but look what we have here insteadâ he says with that stupid smirk on his face.
âOh- oh Iâm sorry.â I slowly pull away from him to make way back to my room. âNo babe, please donât go, I want you to stayâ he begs while keeping our fingers latched to keep our extended arms together. He then latched his hand around my wrist to slowly pull me back down to his level on the bed. Itâs all happening too fast. He uses the same hand to comb his fingers through the strands at the bottom of my hair on the back of my head, and keeps his hand there entangled. He uses his hand to guide my head into a sensual kiss. He gently pressed his lips against mine. So plump, so dreamy. I reciprocated the kiss instantly, matching his pace and moving our lips in sync so perfectly. The way our lips intertwined so naturally gave me actual chills.
After giving me what I have dreamt about for years, he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to connect our lips. He looks into my eyes, his pupils as voids. âPlease stayâ he whispers again. I nod dumbly, my brain still short circuiting as Jake bites is bottom lip. Heâs so fucking beautiful, my eyes are practically burning holes into his lips.
His fingers gently run over my cheekbone, lingering on my jawline, tracing along my nose. âHow did I ever deserve someone as beautiful as you?â he murmurs. His voice is full of admiration and love and affection. He trails his fingers along my jaw, pausing to lightly graze my collar bone, making goosebumps erupt across my skin. The heat radiating off Jakeâs body is practically burning me alive.
Without thinking about it for a second longer, I close the gap between our lips again. We moved in sync, in harmony. It feels like my lips were only made to kiss his. He rests his free hand on the side of my face and uses it as grip to deepen the kiss. Kissing him I had a sense of saftey. The longer our lips were together, the more open I was to his attempts at adding tongue into the mixture. It was a sloppy wet mess, but is all I have ever wanted.
I slide my hand between out warm bodies and feel across his obvious bulge in his boxers. He instantly let out a groan when I took his imprint into my palm. I stroked it gently as we continued with intertwined tongues. His grunts and breathlessness was insanely arousing.
It was clear that we were both extremely sleepy. After a few more minutes of kissing, we eventually pulled away, with no words spoken.
I try my best to hold in my moans as the warmness travels up my body like lava. He stops tracing my collarbone to trail his hands up the side of my body, stopping to stroke a line of soft kisses along the side of my neck.
My hands grasp tightly at the material covering Jakeâs shoulder blades and I use that leverage to get back under the blankets with him. We both face eachother, with our legs crossing randomly over one another. He once again rests his head in the crook of my neck, leaving a kiss like he did once before. Only this time, I know his true intention.
~~~~~~~~~
The fall semester is starting back up again. Junior year, both is our schedules are jammed packed with upper division classes. Having to balance so many classes and still having to work to keep up with the bills for the house, Jake and I hardly see each other. Even though I love spending every single day with him, I feel like Iâm living with a ghost whenever I see his empty seat. When I wake up every morning to find him gone, my heart starts to ache. It hurts knowing that we might not spend as much time together. I know that the sooner that this semester ends, the easier everything will be.
The end of the semester wasnât going to be soon though, itâs barely September. Iâve decided to try and set a study date with Jake and make sure nothing was overlapping the times. We eventually agreed apon Thursday night after he got off of his afternoon job. Maybe around 8 oâclock. I was getting a head start on my Statistics work before he showed up because I knew it would take me a while. He eventually showed up close to 8:30.
I had my headphone covering my ears, shoulders slumped over my desk, and he comes up behind me and take my shoulders in his hands and sensually massages. âAh thank youuuu~~~ my muscles are tightâ I jumped at the unexpected pressure. He drives his thumbs a little bit deeper into my blades and slides his straight arms down my stomach for a hug. âI missed youâ he griped with puppy dog eyes, resting his head on my shoulder. I take off my headphone and hold both of his forearms and pull him deeper into this awkwardly positioned hug.
After a few seconds he pulls away and grabs out his bag with his laptop, and runs to his room to grab his chair to pull up next to mine. I was still seated, watching, unable to take my eyes off him. He settles himself and puts the laptop on his knees in front of him. He opens his notebook, and turns the page to the worksheet for this month. My fingers naturally find their way to his back and scratch gently while he looks over his work. They made their way up his clothed back and into his hair and I ran them through this tangled hair. He let out a sigh of fufillment and he allows himself self to close his eyes to fully take in the relaxing feeling. He breaths in deeply and slowly, taking in my coconut scent.
âFuck itâ he says under his breath.
He turns in my directed and crashed his lips into mine with no hesitation. He wraps his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I was startled at the quick change in plans but my lips soon melted into his and I was under his control. My tongue dances along his bottom lip, asking for entrance as he obliges and gives access. He lifts me from my chair and pulls me over to straddle his thighs.
He guides his lips to mine again, running his hands down my back as he pushes me lower into his lap. I wrap my legs slightly around his waist for some sense of support. The sensual make out and lap straddling goes on and on, until he breaks away slightly to speak, âYou can move if you want sweetheartâ.
He reconnects our lips and I find myself needing any sort of friction to ease the pressure building between my legs. Subconsciously grinding my core over his thigh slowly. I bite down on his lower lip causing him to suck on my tongue immediately as a response. God, he tastes so good, like the cocoa butter lip balm I got him for his birthday.
I continue grinding over his thighs picking up the aggressiveness, as he continues to run his hands through my hair. âFeeling desperate, darling?â he teases, smirking as he tries to pull me back into a kiss. âShut upâ I harden my fist and hit the front of his shoulder. He always finds a way to tease me. He chuckles as we connect our lips once again.
He slides both of his hands under my thighs stands up from his chair, and I wrap my legs around his body as he carries me to the bed. He slowly lays me down on my back with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He doesnât break the kiss but as soon as he sets me down, I can feel his erection bulging through his pants rubbing against me sweet spot. We stop kissing momentarily as he looks at me, with lust filled eyes. He lets one of his hands rest on my chest, while the other traces along the side of my neck to my chin, tilting my head upward and pressing his forehead against mine. âLook at how gorgeous you are right now,â he says with pure adoration. âI canât help myself when Iâm with you.â A sudden surge of desire hits me and my hands grip his hips tighter as he starts to trail kisses on my jawline. I can feel an undeniable wetness spreading in my panties. I am becoming desperate.
I placed my hands at the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it up, but he finished the job and lifted it over his head and threw it to the side. I have seen Jake shirtless a million times over but this time is different. It feels more intimate than the last ones I have seen. I felt my throat tighten as my eyes were drawn to his chest which looked absolutely flawless. âSo beautifulâ I whisper and I trace my fingers over his abs and chest. His body looks perfectly carved and sculpted by a god. âItâs all for you, babyâ he cooed.
I reach my arms around his back and gently dig my nails into his skin as he continues to kiss me. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, revealing my breasts. I wasnât wearing a bra since I had been home all afternoon, and I definitely wasnât expecting this. As soon as he sees them, he takes one of them in his hand. He holds my right breast in his palm and gently rubs it between his thumb and index finger.
His gaze remains focused on my chest as his mouth begins to travel down, taking his time to enjoy each and every piece of my body. He stops to give me another kiss before placing his lips on my nipple. He sucks on my nipple whilst his teeth nipped at my flesh, causing me to moan lowly. I grabbed his hair pulling him closer to me. I grind my pelvis onto his dick, eliciting a groan and he removes his mouth, making a âpopâ sound, to look at his next target intensely. He took my other breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple and softly sucking, making me arch my back and having a moan escape my lips. Jake trails his hands down my waist while keeping his mouth latched to me.
His fingers went into the top of my sweatpants and I stopped him. âI have never done this beforeâ I admitted. âDo you want me to stop?â he questions. How could I ever want him to stop? He is the only person I have ever imagined losing my virginity to. That aside I simply answer âNo, Jakey, I trust youâ
He continues to pull me pants down and off my legs and throws it to the side like he did with the other articles of clothing. He licks up my neck and comes to my ear. âI have never done this either, we can learn togetherâ he whispered. Hearing this made my noticibly more wet, the way he whispers into my ear raises every single hair on my body. The thought of us having our first times with each other made this whole so much more meaningful and made me a lot less hesitant.
The only thing I have left on are my black panties and Jake looks like he is a man with a mission. I grab his bulge through his jeans and gently massage. He becomes a groaning mess as I palm his desperate tip. He is barely even able to keep his lips a decent distance apart for me to kiss him. âFuuuck your hand feels so goodâ I take my other hand to start unbuckling his jeans, which he seems to have no problem with.
I pulled the belt off and unbuttoned his jeans and pulls them down, to where he took them all the way off. All he has left is his boxers. I can clearly see the imprint of he large cock through the thin fabric. I furrowed my eyebrows. âDoes it look too big?, we can stop now if we need toâ he questioned, seeing the fear on my face. I gulped and said âNo, I can take it.â
I continued stroking through his boxers and he moved my panties to the side and rubbed gently on my folds. I gasped at the feeling. The better it started to feel, the less and less I was able to focus on Jake and more on myself. He had me wrapped around his finger. No amount of masturbating could compare to the way he is making me feel within these few minutes.
He slid his fingers down my clit and inserted one. He pumped it in and out until I felt that I was ready for more. Then 2. It hurt a little more but I slowly got used to it. He leaned his head down while his fingers still stuffed me and started leaving kisses on my clit. For having so little experience, he worked his finger and tongue like a professional. The way his tongue danced across my sensitive bud made my body shutter, and I couldnât keep my mouth shut.
âI love the sounds of your whimpersâ he moaned against my clit teasing me. I couldnât even respond. My breathing quickened, and the more his fingers fucked me, the more I could tell how wet I was getting. I whimpered again and I gripped his hair signaling how good he was making me feel. âIt tastes just as sweet as I imaginedâ he praised. He has imagined this before? What else has he imagined?
His fingers slowed down and he slipped two inside of me simultaneously. My hips bucked up and I let out a small gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He continued working his fingers inside of me. He was eating like a man who hadnât seen a meal in a week.
âI want to taste you now.â I protest, pulling his face up for a kiss. His eyes look like he is drunk as his tongue swirled with mine and he gave me a slow deep kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, then bit me, and finally opened his mouth and licked my tongue with his. He pulls away and allows me to pull his boxers past his hips and onto the ground. His dick sprung out. God, it was a lot thicker than I imagined.
I take the base of it and put my lips against the tip, swirling my tongue around. His muscular hand combs through the top of my hair and gently grips it as I begin to take more of his length in my mouth. I could feel it sliding smoothly in and out of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he guides me to take more in moderation. âGod yes baby, thatâs itâ he encouraged. I looked up at him, the room filled with breathy moans and he couldnât keep his mouth shut. I felt the waves of his voice vibrating through my lips as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across my entire body. I could feel my juices flowing through my pussy and down my belly.
I continue sucking him until he is almost completely buried inside my mouth. He leans down placing his lips beside my ear. âI donât think I can hold out much longerâ he whispers, making me smile.
He slowly pulls himself out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed. I use my arms to cover my chest, I am a little nervous. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. âDonât hide yourself, you look perfect darlingâ he said proceeding to take my tongue in his mouth. God this man loves using his tongue. I have never felt this type of intimacy before, and to think I am covering that ground with my bestfriend, was not how I thought it was going to go to say the least.
He brushes his tip in between my folds, spreading my wetness around. âAre you sure you want to keep going? We can stop here, just say the words and I will stopâ âPlease keep goingâ I am practically begging. He seems to enjoy my obvious desperation. He guide the tip in slowly, trying not to overwhelm me. He goes in a little deeper. I wince in pain. âAh baby go a little slowerâ I pleaded. I didnât want him to stop but it was definitely starting to hurt. He held the same spot for a few more seconds, then slowly pushed more in. I have gotten used to the stinging, as it slowly turns to pleasure.
âShit princess, youâre so fucking tightâ Jake praises. He was getting lost in his own world since he has never felt a warm pussy wrapped aroung his dick before, especially not one like mine. I felt his tip hit the enterance of my cervix. He bottomed out. He didnât move. He didnât even want to move, he was just enjoying the moment of his cock being buried deep inside his bestfriend. âYou ok babe?â he asked, concerned by the lack of movement from me. âYeah, just give me a secondâ I replied, attempting to get myself under control.
I began to relax, letting the warmth envelop my entire body. I signal that his is able to move. He slowly pulls his cock out of my cunt, and immediately pushes it back in. He rests both of his arms next to my face and comes down to kiss me. I can see the faint beads of sweat forming on his forehead. âYou do not know how long I have been wanting to do thisâ He whispered into my ear. Once again, Jakes words send a tingle down my spine. He instantly latched himself onto my neck, sucking harshly while still keeping a slow pace down below. I grip his brown head of hair as he leaves purple marks on my skin, bruising my neck. He pulls out and goes back in, this time at a consistent rate.
Our torsos are in complete contact and he sets both of his hands under my back. I wrap my legs around his waist to allow him deeper access, which he so desperately needed. His lips were locked with mine. Our tongues were dancing along with each other as well as our chests. Every time he would suck on my lower lip, I moan against his lips.
âThis is what I have been dreaming aboutâ He says breaking away and kissing my nose. He finds me comfortable with his picking up the pace, and he did with no hesitation. He nuzzles into my neck with his hair partially resting on my face. There was no pain left to feel and my whole body was washed over with pleasure. His length fit so perfectly into my warm cunt, like we were make to only fuck eachother.
Jake head still right next to mine, I turn my head and whisper âJakey, it feels so gooood~~~~â with inconsistency in my breathing. Jakeâs ears were pleasured as if he were listening to his favorite song. He slowed down the pace, only to drive his dick deeper into my swollen cunt with each thrust. âOh my god itâs feels so fucking good, you taking my cock like this.â he whines in my ear. He pulls away from my neck and just watching himself fuck into my pussy.
There was so much sweat on his face it was so fucking hot. It was dripping off his chin and onto my shoulder and neck. His hair was starting to get wet. He took both of my legs over his shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact. Each stroke was deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. He was getting desperate. I donât know how much more my inexperienced pussy can handle. He takes his thumb and gently rubs my clit. Ugh, I have never felt this sort of sensation before, being fucked at the same time.
My moans became more uncontrollable and my legs started to close in. âFuckkkkk Jakey I am about to cumâ I am on the verge of tears, overstimulated with pleasure. The pressure on my clit mixed with the repeated abuse of my cervix was enough to drive me over the edge. âMmmmm yes doll, cum on my cockâ he says lowly. My walls tighten around him and my hips are shaking. My heart is beating at 1000bpm, not a coherent thought left in my fucked-dumb mind. He practically has to pry my legs apart to maintain access to my slit. He holds my hips in place as he gives me a few more strokes. His became less and less powerful.
Once he felt his orgasm coming, he quickly pulled out of me, letting out a loud groan, and shot his strings of white cum all over my tummy and chest. The room was filled with loud pants and the scent of sex. âYou are all I have ever wantedâ I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not minding the fact that his face was soaked. We rest our foreheads together and rub our noses across each other as we both try to catch our breath.
After a second of recovery, He runs to the bathroom and grabs a rag to clean me up. I could barely move my body, my entire entity was more than sore. It hurt to move, all I could do is lay there. Jake returns with a cold washcloth, and starts wiping off my stomach. âDo you need help getting cleaned up babe?â he asks, sitting down beside me, his arm around my naked torso. âCould we take a bath together?â I suggested.
A bath together after the fact is far more intimate, and could give us some time to talk things over. âOf courseâ and smiles. âI can go get it set up right now, darling, you just rest for a few minutesâ He gives me a kiss on the nose and forehead before heading to run the faucet.
~~~~~~~~~~
I donât know how I could let this happen. I lay on my bed rerunning all of the events writhing the last hour in my head. I really donât know why we both allowed it to go that far. I admit, I loved every second of it, but now that itâs over, we have to deal with the effects.
Jake comes back from running the faucet. He looks tired. Maybe a bath is something we both need. âCome here sweetheartâ he brings a towel and sets it on the counter.
The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over. âAre you trying to make soup out of us?â I said jokingly. âI know you like taking your showers hot, so I thought maybe it would be the same for bathsâ he chuckled.
I dip my toes into the half full tub. Jake was right, the temperature was just how I liked it. I held onto his shoulder as I submerge my other foot. The water lapped over the rim of the bath tub.
I keep hold onto his hand so he can guide himself into the tub, taking a lot more balance and tolerance for him to try to get used to the boiling water. âGod damn, you like it hot hotâ he teases though I can see him furrowing his eyebrows at the heat.
âOh donât be such a babyâ I tease him right back. He pouts playfully. I love seeing that kind of reaction from him. âI donât mindâ he mumbles in embarrassment, trying to hide the smile on his face.
Once his feet were able to get used to the water, we both slowly sat the rest of our bodies into the tub. Jakes hair is a mess, itâs going in all different directions. I reach out to tuck some of it behind his ears for him, and then cup his face in my palm. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head, there he goes with those irresistible puppy dog eyes again.
âWhatâs wrong baby?â he asks. I remain in eye contact with him. âWere you being serious? When you said you have dreamt about⊠thatâŠ?â
Heâs silent. So much blood rushing to his face his cheeks are like strawberries. He scratched the back of his head. âI mean yeah⊠why wouldnât Iâ he hesitated.
âI mean look at you, you are insanely attractive and we live together and have known each other forever. Of course my mind is going to wonder. It has wondered many more times than I would like to admit.â he explained himself.
Unintentionally, our bodies kept inching towards each other in that bath. I am some how a mere 6 inches away from his face. âWhy havenât you ever told me how you felt?â
âBecause I was scared on how it would change our friendshipââŠ. he had the exact same fear as I did. He was also afraid of losing one of his best friends. âIf I tell you how I feel, you might think itâs weird or somethingâ he whispers into my ear. âNo I will understand, we have known each other our whole lives. How would it be weird?â I say softly.
He hesitates once again, and I can hear his heart start to pound. He closes the gap between us and rests his forehead on mine. âThere is so much you donât knowâ He breathes, still looking deep into my eyes. His words caused a flicker of anxiety inside of me. âThere is so much I want to know about you, darlingâ I reassure.
âWell for starters I never thought this thing between us would become anything more than just friendsâ he confesses. It is hard for him to admit such things, but he has to show me that I matter more than he thinks. âIt scares me, and Iâm sorry that I let it go too far. I guess itâs because Iâve been waiting so long, and everything has changed so fastâ he explained, he still had this worried look on his face like I were going to shut everything down. Everything had changed so fast.
âYou have to stop worrying so much about me. You can trust me, okay? Iâll never judge or hate you or think any differently of you. All I want is for us to enjoy our first time together and enjoy each other. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are to meâ. I caress his face with my hands.
A small smile graces his features while he gazes back into my eyes. I lean forward and capture him in a long passionate kiss. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each others taste as if it was our first time doing it. We pull away and stare at each other. He places both of his palms on either side of my face, leaning in even closer. I place my lips in line with his.
My fingers run through his soaked hair, though I donât know if it use from sweat or from water. âJakey, if I am going to be honest, I have been feeling the same way. On nights where we donât sleep in the same bed, I find myself getting less sleep and craving your warmth. I donât regret anything thatâs happened between us tonight. Admittedly, I have been wanting to do that with you for so longâ I started ranting.
âWhen you were making love to me I felt like I was floating away and it felt so good I just wanted to stay here forever, like nothing else mattered. There wasnât anything I wanted more than to stay in this moment forever with you, but we both know that isnât possible.â he continues, his voice cracking.
âMaking love?â I chuckle. Such an interesting word choice. âBe quietâ he pushes back. âIâm just joking, but I agreeâ
He was clearly getting tired, letting out a yawn and fighting the force of his eyelids trying to close. âWe should get to bedâ I suggest. We soak the last few moments of the now comfortably hot water and get out of the tub. âYou better not get water all over the floor, Jakeâ HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.
He grabs a towel for me and and one for himself and he wraps mine around my whole body width and pulls me for a hug. âI am glad we took a bath together sweetheart, try to get some restâ he whispers, and leaves an innocent kiss on my forehead.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next few weeks consisted of school, work, and sleeping in the same bed with Jake pretty much every single night. We would exchange passionate kisses and I would bathe him when he was too tired from work or hanging out with Jay. And he would do the same for me. We never went as far to have sex again. We werenât scared but we felt like we should wait.
We are on our way back to Australia for fall break. Jake will finally get to see his parents and I will get to see mine. We get to have a whole week without having to worry about responsibilities. Which I know both of us desperately need. We touch down in Australia around maybe 3pm on the first Saturday of the break. We only brought carry on luggage for convenience and time.
âHave everything?â He questioned me as we were getting out of our seats. âI think soâ I smile, so excited to see my parents. We arranged for Jakeâs mom to pick us up from the airport. She had a large SUV able to fit all of our stuff comfortably. Once we passed through all of the security and customs, Jake calls her to see where she is parked. On speaker I hear her say â9 rows down from the south enteranceâ she explains. âThanks mom, see you in a secâ Jake says about to hang up the phone. âThank you Mrs Simâ I make sure she hears before he presses the red button.
We hurry to get out of the packed airport so meet up with his mom. The weather was cold and misty and it was hard to see. When we finally arrived outside the south enterance, we could hardly believe what we saw. Layla comes up running at full sprint in me and Jakeâs direction. She jumped up onto bother of us, layering our faces and arms with slobbery licks and he tail wagging so hard it may as well had fallen off.
Once Layla was all calmed down we put our luggage into the trunk. We swing up the door and the vehicle seems oddly empty. âWhere is dad?â Jake questioned his mom. âHe is getting worseâŠ. he wasnât able to make it today, I had to take him back to the hospital last nightâ she explained. I could already see the heart break in his eyes. âOhâ We packed everything up and his mom offered for me to sit in the front seat. Honestly, I wanted to sit in the back seat and comfort Jake, so I made up the excuse that Layla should sit in the front.
The mood in the car ride home was off. I donât know if it was from the weather or his fathers health but Jake was not as energetic as he was before. I know he doesnât deserve everything happening to his dad so I will just try to support him through it.
~~~~~~~~~~
I never really gave it much thought, but the more I put the pieces together, I think maybe the reason Jake is so insistent on getting black out drunk with Jay on the weekends may have to do with his father.
Jake has never in his life had a healthy coping mechanism. I remember a lot through out grade school, he would feel guilty or take blame for things that were not his fault, just to mediate the situation. When he did this, he did not react to the discipline very well, but it seems like he would much rather face conveniences than to start an argument over the original problem.
Jake let a lot of people take advantage of him, and it is still something that we have to work on, but knowing the situation with his dad, I know he has a lot more things to worry about now that usual.
Many of the people excluding his parents are alcoholics, any family event we went to together, the main thing being passed around was a bottle. When we were younger, things made him build resentment towards them but the older we got, the more willing he was to try alcohol, only adding more and more each time until he is where he is at now.
Jay isnât the type of friend to stop this behavior either. I will never understand why Jake is such good friends with him cause he never seems to have the best intentions or good interest in mind. I canât be the one to tell him that they should stop being friends cause at the end of the day, Jakeâs relationship with alcohol wonât be healed in a split second.
~~~~~~~~~~
Nothing really eventful happened over the span of the after noon, the rain put everything to a halt. I slept in the guest bed in Jakeâs house for the first night but was unable to fall asleep for the majority of the night. Jakeâs mom rushed into the room around 1:30 am.
âHey are you awake? We have to go the hospital, itâs my husband. Please wake up Jake while I grab the keysâ She said with an extremely shaken voice full of urgency. I shoot out of the bed and put my shorts back on and practically run down the hallway to Jakeâs room. It is locked. I bang on the door frantically. âJake! Jake get up now we have to goâ I echo through the door. Quickly after he swings open his door with his shirt in his hand, in the middle of putting it on.
The SUV was already started when we got out the front door and we ran to get into the car and soon as we sat down she reversed and tried to explain. âHe slipped into a coma. They said they are trying everything to get him to wake up but they have no idea why it happened because he was in decent shape beforeâ she says with tears forming in her eyes.
I reach up to the front seat to scratch her shoulder to try and calm her. I donât think there is anything someone can do in this situation to calm someone in this much distress down but I tried. She is going dangerously fast down the highway. I know that she has been working hard to keep them afloat and thing weâre starting to get better. After that I couldnât stand to listen anymore and closed my eyes hoping that by some miracle she wouldnât end up killing us.
After what seemed like hours we reached the hospital and were quickly taken to another private room where we could talk with him alone. Of course his dad wasnât going to be able to say anything. But Jake still wanted him to listen. He took his fathers hand a caressed his palm with his fingers while he said what he needed to say. Once he was done, I gave Jake a hug as his red face were completely covered in tears.
âHe will be okay, I promiseâ I reassured him. We walked out of the room to discover his mom sitting next to the window, face completely void of emotion. He hasnât spoken a word since we have gotten here.
âYou knowâŠ. he was really excited for you both to come back. He was practically counting down the daysâ she admitted, wiping a tear from here eye. âI was so excited with himâ she added. Her words shatter my heart. How is she not screaming in anger right now. Angry at the world for doing this to her innocent husband. That was something I admired about her. She was always able to contain her emotions well, almost too well.
Seeing both her and Jake in this state was absolutely terrible. I knew it would only take a miracle to fix this given his dads condition. âItâll all be okay, Jake, donât cryâ I assure him. âIt wonât, how am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to go back to school without seeing him, talking to him⊠it hurtsâ âThere is still a chance that he will make it Jake, donât give up on it. I know he wants you to wait for himâ
He couldnât say anything, all he could do was bury his face into my shoulder and sob. He tried to form words, but they were only choked noises which caused him to cry even harder. âShh its okay, I am hereâ I assure him. Me, Jake and his mom spent the night in the hospital. His mom slept in the room with his dad and me and Jake slept in a guest waiting room. Well, I was the only one who was able to get some sleep. Jake was up all night worrying about his father. I could hear him crying as I were trying to fall asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
A few weeks had passed and his fathers condition remained the same, and to be honest, Jake and his mom seemed like they kind of accepted that this was the way that things were going to be.
We were back at the house, his mom would just go to work and lock herself in her room until she had to go to work again and Jake and I were preparing to go back to Korea for the Winter semester.
Mrs Sim did not want to see us leave, and she made it very clear. We were her last hope with everything going on with her husband. I really wish me and Jake could stay back to support her but we have jobs and bills that we have to get back to, and life canât just pause for us. We promised we would let her know how we are feeling, how much we missed each other and everything else that went along with saying goodbye.
We leave in 3 days, and we made it our mission to hang out with his mom as much as we could before we left. She hasnât taken a break either⊠no time to her self she just has to keep working to pay for the house and the piling medical bills.
Those last few days, we took Mrs. Sim out for lunch at her favorite Thai restaurant. She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time in weeks as we joked and reminisced about times when all 4 of us were together. One night, we rented some classic movies she loved and made her favorite snacks. We cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the familiar feeling of just being together as a family again, if only briefly.
Jake and I helped around the house as much as we could - running errands, doing yard work, and cooking meals to give his mom a little respite. We made sure to soak in every moment because we didn't know when we'd all be together like that again.
~~~~~~~~~~
When it came time for our early morning departure back to Korea, Mrs. Sim took us both in for a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "Take care of each other," she whispered hoarsely.ââââââââââââââââ Jake grabs our suitcases out of the trunk and his mom pulls me to the side.
âPlease promise to take care of him for me. You have always been a safe place for him, I can only imagine how he has been feelingâ she begged. I held bother of her hands in the palms of mine. âI promise, Mrs Sim, I will do everything in my power to take care of him, donât worry. You have other things to worry aboutâ I reassure her pulling her into a hug.
Layla climbs through the back of the car from the front seat and jumps out of the trunk to say good bye, jumping all over me and Jake just like when we first arrived. âYes youâre such a good girlâ he scruffs up her ears while giving her a kiss on the forehead. I gave Layla some belly rubs before his mom guided her back into the car.
âPlease text me when you board, and call me when you land, I need to know that the two of you are safe.â said his mom. âOf courseâ we pulled her into one last hug. âI love you guysâ she sobbed âI love you tooâ we said in unison as we walked towards to enterance, leaving his mom in the parking lot.
~~~~~~~~~~
The ride back home was hard for Jake. 10 hours of restlessness. The only time I saw Jake act kind of okay was at our layover in Manila. I tried to leave him be for most of the trip.
-
We landed at the airport in Seoul and made our way back through customs and immigration, I swear the process of getting out of the airport is more stressful than planing a trip itself. We load our things into my car, missing the excitement that Layla brought to the car ride.
Before we got into the car, Jake comes behind me and turns me around into a hug. âI am really worried about her⊠my parents have been together for so long I canât imagine how she would react with out himâ he cried into my arms. âYour mom is a strong woman, I know it. She has you and I know she will be able to get through it.â I rub his back and lay my head into the crook of his neck.
I walk him over to his door and open it, letting him get into is and rest, we still had a 45 minute drive back to our place. I just let him ârestâ his eyes the whole way and I sat in silence trying not to wake him. The ride was bumpy, or maybe I was more aware of my surroundings not given that Jake wasnât talking my ear off the whole time. I donât mean it as a bad thing but he does a great job at keeping me company in the car. But that element was absent this time.
We were outside of our house quicker than expected. Jake was still fast asleep, he looked up he most peaceful than I have seen him these past few weeks I really did not want to wake him up. âJakey weâre hereâ I whisper and gently grip his shoulder. He groans. He untucks his arms from under his shirt and rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.
We make way up to the door, he didnât bother grabbing anything out of the car but I was completely okay with grabbing everything if it meant he would get some rest. As soon as we stepped in the door, he took off his shoes and hurried to his bedroom, he didnât ever bother changing his clothes before plopping onto his bed in pure exhaustion.
I found myself following him to the bed and sitting on the edge and grazing his back with my fingernails. My hands made way up to his hair and I combed his strands with my fingers. He turns over to lay on his back and I sit and admire his beautiful face while his eyes are closed. So peaceful. I couldnât fight the urge to lean down and give his a soft peck before heading back to the car.
He didnât seem to mind, his lips were soft as they instantly melted into mine for a few seconds. He didnât seem supprised or shocked at all. He made it feel natural. âThank youâ he said, barely audible. I leaned in for another kiss, a smile building on my face as our lips met. No verbal response was needed, my smile against his spoke for itself.
~~~~~~~~~~
We had gotten back into our normal work and school schedule following the break. I still was not seeing Jake as much as I would like and it seems like I was getting less and less information by the day on his dad, which worried me. I tried to call Mrs Sim every single day to check in and get updates, as well as update her on mine and Jakeâs life. She treated me like a friend. Like a daughter. I am very thankful to be accepted by her in that way.
Jake was clearly getting more stressed with work and school and I couldnât figure out a way to ease the stress for him, all I could do was hope that it wouldnât end up being too much.
Mrs Sim told me briefly once while we were on a phone call that me and her call way more often that her and Jake do. Jake has always been a texter and his Mom simply had to deal with not hearing her baby boys voice as often as she would like, which is why it was weird when me and Jake were laying in my bed around 11pm and his phone starts ringing.
Both of us were on the verge of falling asleep and the light from his phone screen made the situation more uncomfortable. At first Jake just reached over and turned off the ringer.
âHey did you even see who it was? What if it was importantâ I question his instinct to end the call. âFine let me lookâ he groans.
He reached over and grabs his phone and looks at the screen âMomâ is what it read. âAnswer it!â I urged him. Jake was hesitant. I think he thought that this was going to be the call, which he has been preparing to avoid at all costs.
Instead of letting the line go to voicemail, I snatch the phone out of his hand and answer if myself. âHello Mrs Sim, is everything alright?â
âI am so glad to hear your voice. Is Jake around? It is important. Put it on speakerâ she said.
âYouâre on speakerâ I informed her.
âJake, your father is home, I picked him up about an hour ago. The doctor said that septic shock caused him to go into the coma, and they were able to treat the infection and keep him steady with some blood and IV fluids. He woke up yesterday and has shown no signs of complication ever since. I will take him back in a few days for testing and a check up. They saved him Jake⊠They saved him.â His mother explained ecstatically, crying tears of happiness.
Jakeâs face immediately lit up, with what I could see from the light of the phone screen. He instantly started crying.
âBaby I wish you were here right now. he misses you so muchâ he claimed.
Jake couldnât even speak through his tears and his hitched breathing. âI love you so much mom, tell dad I love him and I will see him soonâ
He sets the phone down and buries his face into my chest, letting out full on sobs. the toll that this situation has taken on his body physically and mentally was very obvious and I know he has been wanting good news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks had passed and we came back to Australia for the Winter break. Jake was more excited than ever. When he saw his dad get out of the car at the airport, I had never see Jake run so fast in my life. Their hug seemed like it was out of a movie and he had been latched to his dad everyday since being back at his house.
His parents kind of picked up on me and Jakeâs relationship, and didnât question why I was wanting to sleep in Jakeâs room and not the guest room any more.
We were laying there facing each other, admiring each others beauty in the dim moon light shining through the blinds.
âTell me Jake, do you believe in fate?â I questioned lowly.
He looks somewhat startled. âYâknow, I have never really thought about that. After everything that has happened this year, I think I would say that I doâ he confirmed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
âYeah I think I do tooâ
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#heeseung#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen jake#enhypen jungwon#kpop#jungwon#enhypen sunoo#park sunghoon#sunghoon#sunoo#jake x reader#jake sim smut#jake enhypen#jake sim#jake smut#hxxsxxng#heeseung smut#enha x reader#enha imagines#enha#kpop smut#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen fanfic#stray kids#engene#enhypen fluff
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guilt tripping- o.piastri
summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader
a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah đč
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âI donât know if I can go,â you sighed, feeling even worse.Â
âThatâs alright,â he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered.Â
âM-maybe I can work something out, I donât want to leave you alone,â your guilt grew everyday, this wasnât healthy for either of you.Â
âI donât want you over-exerting yourself,â he spoke softly into the phone. âIâll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.â
âI donât want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. Iâd be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once Iâve had a few days to heal,â you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something youâd ever wanted to do. You couldnât do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. âAnd then Iâd come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.â
âReally?â his voice picked up, excited now. âYouâre sure?â
âIâm sure Osc, I love seeing you race,â your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldnât do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time heâd plan a date that wasnât dinner or a movie, youâd have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasnât something youâd be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years heâd gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldnât be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise.Â
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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and youâd just had a 22-hour day of travel.Â
âIâll go check on her-â he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off.Â
âNO!â she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. âSheâs really tired and sheâs already gone to sleep.â
âYeah, well Iâm tired so Iâm going to bed,â he explained, stretching then yawning.Â
âOsc,â Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. âSheâs not⊠alright. She canât do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and sheâs still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she canât say yes. Sheâs done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?âÂ
Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, heâd felt guilty that he couldnât be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear.Â
When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasnât fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave.Â
âPlease donât sneak out on me,â he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry?Â
âOsc, whatâs wrong?â you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered, his voice breaking. âI knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, Iâm so sorry.â
Your heart tightened in your chest. âOsc, Iâm alright, I was just tired last night and-â
âHattie told me,â his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. âAnd Iâm so sorry.â
âOsc, I couldâve said no if I didnât think I was able for it,â you tried to reassure him but he shook his head.Â
âY/n, you did say no and I didnât take it as an answer,â he scoffed.Â
You were stunned into silence. âI think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.â
He nodded, taking your hands in his.Â
âThis isnât fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but itâs a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I canât. Itâs not in the cards for me right now, and I donât know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and youâve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and Iâm not that person right now. I love you but I know itâs not enough,â You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. âIâm sorry.â
He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. âYou know how much I love you, donât you?â he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. âSo you know that I still feel your support even when weâre in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, Iâve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. Youâre the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time itâs just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you donât feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but donât ever think that Iâm without because Iâm with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good olâ days and make some more while we have time. âThe good olâ daysâ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, youâll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. Youâre more than enough for me.â
You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. âI love you too.â
After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. âCan you forgive me for being such an asshole?â he asked, wiping his eyes.Â
You nodded, a small smile on your face. âI can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?â
He chuckled. âYouâre no idiot,â he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. âI love you.âÂ
âI love you too.â
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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Sunshine [10] - Storm
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! â€ïž Youâre amazing! â€ïž
I hope you like this as well, and please donât forget to tell me what you think, thank you! đ„°
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: A sudden storm can be overwhelming.
Word Count:Â 3670
CW: Explicit language, blood, injuries, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
Getting too caught up in a relationship hadnât been an issue since youâd had Theo, but before him, there was a reason why all your friends accused you of being a romantic. When you fell in love, you didnât even think about the possibility of a break up butâ
You really should have.
âLogan?â
Logan looked down at you, running his fingertips over your spine while you played with the dog tags around his neck.
âYeah?â
âI have a question but you need to promise me youâll be honest.â
A rumble of a chuckle vibrated in his chest, making you bite back a smile as you looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.
âThe last time you made me promise that, you ended up asking me what animal I thought I could beat in a fight.â
âThat was for science.â
âHow?â
âIn case one day we decide to go on a safari and end up getting stranded in there.â
âThatâs a possibility?â
âYou canât be too careful,â you said. âIâm used to thinking about every scenarioâanyway, this is another question.â
âIâm listening.â
âSo you have the super strength and all thatâŠâ
âYeah.â
âWhat supernatural creature do you think you could take down in a fight?â
Logan blinked a couple of times. âThatâs the question you want me to answer honestly?â
âCould you take down a werewolf?â
âWeâre actually talking about this,â Logan muttered to himself. âOkay.â
âA werewolf,â you insisted. âCould you take down a werewolf?â
 He took a deep breath, then shrugged his shoulders.
âI donât think itâd be that difficult to take down a werewolf,â he stated and you hummed.
âA little cocky, but Iâll let it slide,â you said, laying your head on his chest again. âA vampire.â
âPlease, vampires are lame,â he said with a grimace. âI could definitely take down a vampire, are you kidding?â
âYou sound so sure of yourself that Iâm half-tempted to ask if youâve ever taken down a vampire.â
He let out a chuckle. âIâm not going to be beaten by a creature that canât survive in the sunlight even if itâs hypothetical.â
âThey are pretty powerful.â
âTo repeat, they burn in sunlight. Doesnât sound powerful to me.â
You clicked your tongue.
âHow about a zombie?â you asked. âCould you take down a zombie?â
âThose things fall apart anyway, shouldnât be difficult.â
âWhat if itâs a herd?â
âSame logic.â
âYouâre telling me you could take down one hundred zombies?â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm saying.â
You hid your yawn behind your hand. âUm, mermaids.â
âMermaids arenât even scary.â
âNo, not that type ofâlike those in Pirates of the Caribbean, have you watched that?â
âNo.â
âIâll put that on the list. Itâs likeâitâs like sirens, they lure you to the sea and then drown you.â
He paused for a moment, then hummed.
âYeah, I think a mermaid could take me down.â Â
âReally?â
âIâm not good with water.â
âCan you swim?â
âI can swim but if I try to stay still in the water I sink,â he said slowly. âBecause of the skeleton. And like I said, Iâm not good with water.â
Something in his voice sounded distant so you decided not to push him. You were way too sleepy for a big conversation anyway, and you didnât want to force him to talk about anything he didnât want to talk about. Heaving a sigh, you nuzzled closer to him and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head.
âHow about you?â he asked. âWhat supernatural creature could you take down in a fight?â
âDo you know any creatures you can disarm with the power of speech?â you asked, making him let out a laugh.
âNot really.â
âI mean I think Iâd have a better chance surviving a vampire than a werewolf,â you murmured, your voice already drowsy. âWerewolves have fewer weaknesses I think, and yes vampires can hunt you down but only in night time. Well, werewolves can only hunt you down during the full moon, thereâs that but I feel like as far as supernatural creatures goâŠâ
You didnât even realize you were falling asleep.
Until a soaring pain pulled you out of it.
A scream left your lips as your eyes snapped open, your hand shooting to your other arm to grab at it. You sat up straighter in the bed, now realizing Logan was also awake and upright in bed, breathing hard and unsheathing his claws. Your name spilled from his lips in a whisper as you looked down at your arm, the blood pouring from the open wound, coating your hand and the sheets in red.
âIâm fineââ you managed to say breathlessly while Logan stared at you, complete terror in his eyes. âIâm fine itâs justâŠumââ
âLet me see,â he said in a low voice and you tried to blink back the tears with a grimace. Logan carefully lifted your arm, letting you see the three gashes through all the blood under the dim light of the moon coming from the window.
Shit.
âYou need stitches,â Logan muttered as he grabbed his jeans to put them on. âWeâre going to the hospital.â
âStitches?â you repeated, looking down at your arm. âAre you sure?â
âThose are deep cuts,â his voice sounded a little distant again and you couldnât tell it was because of the blood loss you were currently suffering from. He bunched up his white shirt to press it against the wound, making you hiss in a breath.
âIâm sorry,â he said as he swallowed thickly. âIâm so sorry.â
âWhatâno, itâs fine!â you said in a haste, trying to focus through the fire burning your arm. âItâs not your fault.â
âIt is.â
âLoganââ you started but he went to grab your sweater off the chair at the corner of the room, then made his way back to you. He helped you get into it, then into your jeans while you held onto his shoulder trying to move your arm as little as possible.
âI can carry youââ
âLogan, itâs just my arm,â you assured him with a huff of a laughter. âI can walk. Itâs totally fine.â
A shadow crossed his eyes, his jaw clenching tight.
âRight,â he muttered through his teeth. âYeah. Letâs go.â
                                              *
You really, really hated hospitals. As a child, you were quite the troublemaker so youâd had your fair share of hospital visits, and each and every time was quite painful. Even now, as a grown up, you couldnât help but feel tense whenever you had to go to hospitals.
And Theoâs very scary birth hadnât helped the situation.
But if anything, this really wasnât a big deal. A couple of stitches and you would be fine, but Logan looked much more tense than you were. He was completely quiet and withdrawn, standing in the corner of the hospital room like a guard dog while the doctor worked on your arm.
âSo how did you get this, exactly?â she asked and you tried to smile at her.
âOh, uhâŠI work in a diner,â you said. âAnd as it turns out, night shift and sharp objects arenât a good combo.â
âIâd bet,â she said as she pulled back to look at the stitches, then took off her latex gloves. âWell the good news is, itâs a very clean cut so itâll be much easier to heal. Keep it dry the first day, and after tomorrow you can wash around it with clean water twice a day.â
âOkay.â
âTake the antibiotics, apply the cream I prescribed andâŠwell, be careful around knives?â she said with an assuring smile and you let out a small laugh.
âNoted. Thank you so much, doctor.â
âHave a nice night,â she said and walked past the cubicle curtain. You let out a breath, feeling around the gauze before lifting your head to smile at Logan.
âHey,â you said. âYou okay?â
For some reason, Logan couldnât hold your gaze like he usually would, so instead he stole a look at you before fixing his gaze on the floor and nodded.
âSure.â
âYou donât like hospitals either huh?â you asked, âI mean if I hate the smell, I canât imagine how you feel with those enhanced senses of yours.â
Logan didnât answer, instead he rushed to help you when you grabbed your coat so that you could put it on.
âThanks,â you said and he pulled his hands back as if he could burn you if he kept them on you a second longer than he needed to. You pulled your brows together, but didnât comment on it as you started walking beside him to get out of the building.
You didnât really do well with quiet so the music coming from the radio and your nonsense chatter were the only things filling the silence in the car. Logan met your questions with occasional grunts to signal that he was listening and at best you got curt, one-word answers.
It was only when you walked into your apartment and Logan followed you like a quiet guardian that you turned to him, putting your hand on your hip.
âLogan.â
He closed the door behind him. âHm?â
âDonât get me wrong, I can talk until the sunrise but this is becoming a one-way street,â you told him. âAre you okay?â
He blinked a couple of times as if he couldnât believe you were asking him that.
âAre you?â he asked back after a beat and you shrugged your shoulder.
âItâs not the first time Iâm getting stitches,â you said. âAnd to be completely honest with you, after childbirth everything else they do to you in a hospital kind of pales in comparison. Iâm fine.â
He snorted, then clicked her tongue. âSure.â
âNo seriously, itâs just stitches,â you said, walking to the kitchen to fill yourself a glass of water. âAnd you heard what the doctor said, itâll heal pretty easily.â
You popped the painkillers in your mouth, then downed them with water before putting the glass back on the counter, then walked back to the hallway.
âIf I go to sleep right now, I think I can survive on three cups of coffee instead of four tomorrow,â you joked with a grin, but he couldnât even smile back, he just followed you to the bedroom. After helping you get into a comfortable oversized shirt, he took a step back as you sat down on the bed. You frowned, tilting your head.
âAre you coming?â you asked, motioning at the bed and Logan shook his head.
âNo,â he said, his voice deep. Your frown deepened.
âWhat?â
âI should uhââ he motioned at the living room. âIâll sleep on the couch. Iâd still hear if you needed anything at night and itâd be safer.â
âSafer?â you repeated. âLogan, come on.â
âI canât risk another nightmare and you ending up withâŠâ he nodded at your arm and you scoffed a laugh.
âThat wonât happen.â
âYou donât know that.â
Alright, this was strange.
Logan was never this curt with you. He wasnât the most open person in the world, yes, but whenever he spoke to you, his voice would always be warm, melting your insides. Now he sounded way too distant, way too controlled.
You might as well have been speaking to a robot.
âWhy are you punishing yourself right now?â you asked, looking him in the eye and something in his gaze shifted before his jaw clenched again, then he shook his head.
âCall my name if you need anything,â he said, walking out of the bedroom and you blinked a couple of times in confusion. A sigh left your lips and you rubbed at your eyes, then slowly lay down on the bed, grimacing when a sudden spark of pain shot through your arm. You put your pillow under your arm, then grabbed Loganâs pillow to bury your face into it, the pleasant smell of his cologne soothing your senses before sleep creeped up on you, pulling you into its warmth.
                                                *
 When you woke up, you were still groggy and your arm was throbbing. A grimace twisted your face and you took a deep breath, then pulled yourself up to sit up in the bed, and looked down at your arm, feeling around the gauze. It wasnât extremely painful, but it still made sure to let you know it was there so you had a feeling you were going to have to be extra careful carrying plates at the diner, at least for a while. The delicious smell coming from the kitchen made you turn your head and you nibbled on your lip, then slowly pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen.
âHi stranger,â you said with a grin and Logan looked over his shoulder, then put the grilled cheese sandwich right next to scrambled eggs on the plate.
âMorning.â
âIf breakfast is your way of apologizing for not sleeping next to me last night,â you said as he poured you coffee, then placed the cup on the small table next to the plate. âItâs the right path.â
A forced smile twitched the corners of his lips upwards before you sat down, then grabbed the sandwich to take a huge bite.
âArenât you eating?â you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.
âNot really hungry.â
You blinked a couple of times; that was new.
âLogan,â you said, clearing your throat before putting the sandwich down. âI think we should talk about what happened.â
âI agree, but after breakfast.â
You pulled your brows together in confusion, then shrugged with one shoulder before grabbing your coffee cup to take a big sip. Loganâs gaze didnât leave you as if he was trying to take in the sight of you as much as he could, as if he was trying to burn this- you, this moment- into his mind. The look in his eyes wasnât distant anymore but worse; it was just haunted. You could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip before you tried to shake off the chill running down your spine, then chewed your bite and cleared your throat.
âWhat time did you wake up?â
Logan shook his head slightly.
âDidnât sleep.â
âAt all?â you asked, gawking at him and he shrugged his shoulder almost nonchalantly.
âItâs fine.â
âWell itâs actuallyââ you started but were cut off when your phone started ringing in the bedroom.
âOne moment,â you said and rushed to the bedroom to grab it off the nightstand, then answered it.
âHello?â
âHey love,â Staceyâs voice reached you. âDid I wake you up?â
âNo no, I was already up,â you said and sat down on the bed. âWhatâs up?â
âOkay so, the boss is going to kill me, butâŠâ
âDonât say it.â
âIâll be late again.â
You let out a small laugh. âStace.â
âOkay I know what youâre gonna say but this time itâs totally not my fault.â
âNo?â
âWell, my body decided to have a hangover after last night, so technically itâs not my fault.â
You hummed. âHow much did you drink?â
âWell it was my friendâs birthday and Paul and his friends were at this bar and we decided to go have fun, and then my friend hooked up with Paul so I had to drink a lot to stop myself from visualizing what was going on in the bathroom.â
âI can imagine,â you said. âItâs fine. Iâll cover for you, no worries.â
âUgh, youâre an angel and I love you.â
âLove you too Stace,â you said with a laugh, then hung up the phone and shook your head before making your way back to the kitchen.
âSorry about that,â you told Logan and sat down. âItâs Stacey, youâve met her.â
âYouâre going to work today?â Logan asked. âAre you sure thatâs a good idea?â
âOh yeah, itâs totally fine,â you said. âI barely feel it to be honest, and Iâll be careful.â
âButâŠâ
âBesides, I need to cover for Stace,â you said. âApparently her friend hooked up with Paulâyou remember our line cook Paul? Heâs kind of a womanizer, Iâm kind of surprised she and Paul never had a thingâthey sure do flirt a lot but anyway, Staceyâs friend and he hooked up last night and knowing Stacey, she probably drank everyone under the table, and now she has a hangover. Shocking, isnât it?â
Logan nodded slowly without pulling his gaze off of you.
âDid I tell you about how when Stacey and I first met, I ended up getting black out drunk?â you asked, biting into the grilled cheese sandwich. âIt was my first day at the diner, and she convinced me to have a night out with her, and I swear to you, that girl is a goddamn sponge when it comes to alcohol. I was out a couple cocktails in, and she still had numerous shots and cocktails after. Julie was taking care of Theo that night, so I ended up sneaking into my own apartment so that he wouldnât wake up, and rambled to Julie for like two hours straight about kittens, and then fell asleep watching cat videos.â
A small, sad smile curled Loganâs lips and you smiled back at him, then took another sip of your coffee and put your empty plate into the sink.
âCompliments to the chef,â you said with a grin despite the strange tension almost palpable in the kitchen. âIf you ever get tired of going on missions and stuff, you could go into culinary world I feel like.â
He scoffed a laugh and you took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.
âSo,â you said. âCan we talk?â
Logan swallowed thickly and nodded his head, his jaw clenching.
âYeah.â
âI donât blame you for what happened, at all,â you said. âIt was an accident. YouâŠyou had a nightmare right?â
Logan paused for a moment, then shook his head. âThatâs not an excuse.â
âLogan, thatâs an accident,â you insisted. âYou really shouldnât blame yourself. I donât.â
âYou should.â
âWell then sucks to be you because Iâm not gonna,â you said. âAnd unless you want to get separate beds like those weird couples in the 1950s, I donât see how youâre planning onââ
âI think we should break up.â
That managed to shut you up mid-rant. Your eyes snapped up to his and for a couple of seconds, you could only gawk at him in complete silence, your throat getting tighter.
ââŠWhat?â you managed to rasp out, your voice lost somewhere in your throat and Logan crossed his arms, leaning his back to the wall.
âItâs going to be safer for youââ
âWhat are you even talking about?â
âDo you realize what couldâve happened?â he asked back, his voice tense. âWe got lucky, if you can even call last night that.â
âLogan, itâs a goddamn scratch!â
âYeah, this time!â he insisted. âThis time it was only a scratch on your arm, what about the next time? What if it wasnât your arm?â Â Â
âYou cannot be serious,â you said, blinking back the tears as you shook your head. âYou canât.â
âIâm not going to have your blood on my hands,â he said, his eyes locked in yours. âI canât hurt you. NotâŠnot you. I was so wrapped up in this that I forgot how dangerous I could be for youââ
You let out a breath, running a hand over your face. âDonât give me that speech again.â
âIâm not talking about some silly heartbreak,â Logan told you through his teeth. âIâm talking about life and death. You might see it as nothing, but we both know that itâs not nothing.â
You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm and sniffled, blinking back the tears again.
âI told you, Iâm going to be the one who decides whether this relationship is dangerous or not.â
A dry laugh climbed up his throat.
âDo you have any idea what it would do to me if IâŠâ he couldnât even finish the sentence as if the mere thought was way too painful. âI canât put you in danger.â
âYouâre not putting me in danger,â you insisted. âYou can hear my heartbeat, canât you? You can smell it when Iâm scared, when Iâmâwhen Iâm nervous. So tell me; last night, was there even a second that I was scared of you? Or this morning? Have I ever been nervous around you because I thought I was in danger?â
That made him pause for a moment before he shook his head. âNo.â
âThere you go. Thereâs your answer to your moral predicament.â
âThat makes it even worse,â he rasped out and you frowned.
âHow?â
âBecause now it falls on me to do it,â he said. âAnd I canât even fucking convince myself that you want it.â
You sniffled, shaking your head.
âDonât do this,â your voice was a low whisper. âPlease donât do this.â
He stared at you, the look in his eyes so painful that for a moment it made you think you were somehow tormenting him with mere words before he clenched his teeth and stepped closer to you so that he could carefully wrap his arm around your waist. He moved slow as if he was terrified that he could somehow hurt you just by touching you and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head as you sniffled, making his grip around your waist tighter for only a moment. You could feel him nuzzle into your hair and stay there completely frozen for a couple of seconds, as if he couldnât bring himself to pull back.
âIâm sorry,â he managed to say after a beat and pulled back, then walked out of the kitchen. You heard the front door open before it closed, and as if on cue you fell on your knees, burying your face in your hands.
Then the sobs started.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#james logan howlett#logan xmen#wolverine logan
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A bath together
âŹWarnings: There are mentions of nudity but this is NOT NSFW, Y/N is a killer, mentions of murdering âŠâ áâ âÌ€â áâ á·
⏠Gender Neutral!Reader, they/them pronouns and third person narration (â *â Ëâ â Ëâ *â )â .â ïœĄâ *â âĄ
âŹAuthor Note: He's such a green flag, such a sweet boy, I want to give Me. Crawling a big hug. Btw finally posting something that has warnings lmao.
âŹSummary: Y/N teaching Mr. Crawling about something basic in the daily routine; a warm bath.
⏠Word Count: 1,435 Words
Masterlist
"Mr. Crawling please. I promise you it'll be fun! Fun? You like fun?"
Y/N's question was answered with a vigorous shake of the head. "No... Me no like. No like there. Not going."
"Please? Would you do it for me?" Of course they were gonna try to convince him that way, Mr. Crawling couldn't say no to that look after all.
It's been some days since they left that mysterious world. She went back to her usual activities like going to school and killing people, just the usual stuff for a human their age, right? They have been teaching Mr. Crawling about the human world and the routines that generally develop over time, a very important part of the daily routine is cleaning the body but Mr. Crawling was so hesitant to enter the tub, it was filled with warm water and soap, of course it looked comfy but then why was he acting that way?
Mr. Crawling stood firm in his decision. "Not going."
They sighed. "Would you enter if we did it together? Would you agree that way? You, me, together?"
He smiled and nodded, so he was throwing that whole tantrum so he could be with them. They weren't surprised really, he was a clingy being.
They took off their clothes with some hesitation, how would Mr. Crawling react? Would it be a good reaction? Now they were the one hesitating. And he noticed. "You okay?"
"I'm okay, it's just..." They shook their head. "Nothing."
Once the two were without clothes they shivered a little. "I already took a shower today, taking a bath is not necessary for me..." Y/N said to themselves as they stepped into the tub. "Your turn. Come here"
This time Mr. Crawling stepped into the tub without protest, a happy smile on his face. After feeling the temperature, he giggled, he looked happy. "Fun fun." He said, splashing a little of water.
"See? Told you it was fun... But you usually take a shower first, then get in the tub to relax, you know? The problem is that my shower is too small for someone so tall like you... I mean, this tub is also pretty small but I guess it works, not that bad hopefully. I hope you'll enjoy it." Indeed, it wasn't that big of a bathtub so they were pretty close, his cold back pressing against their chest.
He was happily listening to their yapping, not understanding a lot of course, but Mr. Crawling just liked the way they voice sounds when they're speaking to him, it was a sound that made him feel nice and warm inside.
"I'm gonna wash your hair, okay?" Y/N grabbed the bottle of shampoo, Mr. Crawling didn't understand what they meant with that but he was happy to let them take care of him. It made him feel special.
They started to gently massage his scalp, Mr. Crawling tried to eat the foam and bubbles that the shampoo produced but after they told him it wasn't food he felt somewhat disappointed, it smelled so good, how is it not something he cannot eat? "No food?"
"No, it's not food. It doesn't taste as good as it smells."
Mr. Crawling didn't get what Y/N said but he understood that he can't eat that and he was a well behaved boy so he didn't try to eat it again.
They spent a lot of time just washing his hair, making sure the tips and roots were clean, his hair got dirty when he crawled around and they wanted to take care of it for him. "Your hair is so pretty." They whisper softly.
He giggles. "Me pretty?"
"Your hair. Your hair pretty. But you're right Mr. Crawling, you pretty too."
He smiled and giggled, wanting to hug and headpat them but not being able cause of their position, Instead, he just rubbed his head happily against her neck. They took care of cleaning his body as much as possible while teaching him the basics of how to do it himself as well. He was very cheerful, as usual, always giggling and smiling, enjoying the experience, the attention he received and the gentle touches, the nice words and all the spoiling and pampering they gave him. They made him happy.
They started talking after starting to scrub his legs. "Next time I'll try to kill someone with money... Maybe we could put soft carpet on the floors or something... Your knees get bruised cause of your crawling and... I'm sure you don't feel it that much and you heal pretty fast... but I don't like seeing you like that." They gently kisses his temple, Mr. Crawling smiled and giggled happily.
Mr. Crawling He was having the best day of his life, the warmth of the water, Y/N's body heat, the pleasant aromas of the soaps and shampoo, listening to them humming while they took care of him... It was perfect.
But eventually the water turned cold and soon they got out of the tub, they wrapped a towel around their body to help Mr. Crawling dry himself with another towel. He liked that, it was soft and it smelled good. Everything in that room smelled good, it was different from what he was used to in his world.
"So? Did you liked it?" Y/N asked.
"Yes. Me like this." He nodded his head, smiled happily. "Me like you."
"Thank you. I like you too"
It was time for a new lesson; getting dressed. Mr. Crawling wasn't used to clothes and how humans dress, so they got him a new robe and some underwear. He protested a little at first, something so restrictive felt weird at first but once he got used to it he even liked it. His new robe looked a lot like the old one he had, that made him happy cause he really liked that robe.
"Me pretty, me pretty." He repeated over and over again when he saw himself in the mirror.
"Yes, you're pretty. Very very pretty."
He loved their praises, now that they were dressed and out of the tub he could hug them and give them the headpats he wanted. That made them happy too. He was so clingy. It was new to have someone so in awe of even the smallest detail about them, Mr. Crawling was a faithful devotee and Y/N a deity that he would worship for life.
"Let's dry your hair okay? We're done here."
They went back to the room, having Mr. Crawling sitting down on the edge of the bed, they were behind him, dryer in hand ready to take care of that beautiful and silky hair that Mr. Crawling had.
"This is a little loud but it's okay. It won't hurt." They wanted to make sure Mr. Crawling wouldn't freak out cause of the noise the air dryer made. He nodded and Y/N started doing their thing. The hot air felt nice, it took a good amount of time to dry all of his hair but they did it happily, Mr. Crawling felt excited and that was enough of a reason to do it.
"I'm done, what do you think?"
Mr. Crawling grabbed the air dryer and held it in front of his face, the air was moving his hair back, making him giggle. "Fun fun! Me like fun!"
"I know you like fun." They looked at him tenderly, Mr. Crawling was easy to impress, even the smallest detail could make him very excited, it was refreshing to have him by their side. "You know, I wanna braid your hair... Want me to show you something? You'll look pretty, I promise."
He tilted his head to the side but nodded gently, giving them the hair dryer back. They braided his hair gently, once it was done they made him look at the mirror.
They smiled, he was so excited. "You look pretty."
"Me pretty!" He looks at them with a big smile. "Me pretty... Thank you..."
They looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. "I should sleep now, it's getting late."
Mr. Crawling nodded, understanding their need of rest. They lay down together in bed after turning off the lights. He was hugging Y/N as if they were a delicate piece of art made of glass, something he had to protect. "You pretty... Thank you." He said against their neck.
"This could be a part of our routine... I like it, I wanna do it again."
"Again?" He asks happily.
"Yes. Not now! But tomorrow... Again"
He giggles. "Again! Again! Tomorrow again!"
They kiss his forehead. "It's time to sleep for now, okay? Goodnight Mr. Crawling."
"Night night... Pretty."
#homicipher#homicipher x you#homicipher x reader#homicipher x y/n#x y/n#x yn#x reader#fluff#gender neutral reader#gn!reader#gn reader#mr crawling#mr crawling fluff#mr crawling x you#mr crawling x reader#mr crawling x y/n
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GETAWAY - FC43
summary : An italian weekend getaway with your favorite loving boyfriend. Filled with strawberries and hammocks.
listen up : inspired by @purinfelix ! super sweet and blue vibes
word count : 884
âïœĄâ§Ëâ
I yawn, walking down the kitchen and through the doorway thatâs wide open, revealing my favorite part of this house. The balcony is long and filled with a couch, hammock, and table, all overlooking the crystal blue ocean. My feet are cold against the wooden floors but the moment I step outside, the sun warms my face.
I smile softly when I see him. Heâs in a chair, quietly looking at the water. I wrap my arms around my lovely boyfriend, my coffee and strawberries in my hands still.
âMorning Mi amor.â His strong arms move so his hand is resting over mine, tilting his hair back so his waves brush the side of my face.
He gets a hold of my arm and gently pulls me around him, motioning to sit on his lap. He puts down his mate and welcomes me to sit on him. I put my breakfast down and wrap my arm around him, looking up into the fact I so love.
Francoâs hand goes to my leg, smiling. âNice shirt.â I look down at what I'm wearing. Itâs his shirt actually. A blue and white striped button down paired with underwear to match.
âThank you!â I run my hands through his hair, messing it up at bit, âI stole it from a very handsome man!â
He tilts his head a bit, kissing my cheek, âHeâs a lucky man.â I rest my head on Franco's shoulder. He smells like peppermint and coffee. He snatches one of my strawberries from my bowl and pops it into his mouth.
I breathe in the fresh air, closing my eyes and smiling. âYouâre a vision, mi amor.â He kisses me on my lips this time, brushing my hair back softly.
I fell in love with him because of how soft he is. He never rushed me, never yelled. Him and those big brown eyes do everything to love me.
âWhat are you thinking about today?â I ask, looking out at the water and birds passing ahead as his lips go to my neck, âFarmers market?â
He hums against my skin, not giving any answer. I canât even be mad at his lack of words because his lips against me and this morning view is anything I could ever ask for.
âàŒș
Our day is slow and peaceful, his hand never leaves mine and as soon as we get back to the house we change. Franco will go along with anything I do and I may be abusing my power a bit when I see our matching pajamas.
I canât help but giggle at Franco in the blue and white porcelain design, theyâre locally made and absolutely gorgeous. I have the pants and top while he seemed far too happy that they had no other pajama top in his size.
It takes approximately twenty minutes for the two of us to get into the hammock without falling out. He wraps his arm around me as I nuzzle into his chest, looking up at the star filled sky.
âI never want to leave.â He says as jazz plays from his phone across the balcony, âLetâs stay.â
I smile and look up at him, âWe have to leave. But we can come back anytime.â I kiss his jaw as his hand brushes up and down my arm.
âI love you.â It makes me smile.
âI love you too.â I wrap my arm around his middle, his shirt soft against my skin. I look back up at the stars, feeling complete peace in the cool air, my warm skin, and my boyfriend next to me.
âThose stars look like a dick.â And he ruins it all in one sentence. I groan and he starts laughing, hard, shaking the hammock.
âFranco!â I scream and hold onto him tighter as we swing, âFran- I swear!â
He's still laughing, his chest moving up and down rapidly under my head. He holds me tighter as we both try to stay still, âIâm sorry!â He laughs, âIâm sorry! You love me! You canât be mad!â
âYouâre the wor-â I go to jokingly hit his arm but when he moves to block me, we flip.
Weâre on the floor and laughing seconds later. Franco grabs my face, trying to be serious but still laughing, âAre you okay!?â
Literal tears are coming out of my eyes which he wipes away with his thumbs, still looking at me worriedly. I just laugh again and pull him closer to me, pressing my lips against mine.
He pushes his hand into my hair, âDid you hit your head?â I shake my head and kiss him again, climbing on top of him.
He laughs against my lips, moving his hands to the side of my legs. âAttempted murder!â He says as I gasp dramatically.
âYou were the one who made us fall!â
âOh no!â His hand goes to my head, âYou did hit your head!â I hit his arm as he breaks into laughter again and I move back next to him, looking up at the stars from the floor.
He kisses my head and tugs me against him again, âThose stars look like a heart.â
I raise a brow, âNo they donât.â
He shushes me and points, âJust squint.â
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto
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âWhat?!â
The hero looked to Nuvian with a very puzzled expression, the half-elf bard just smirked a bit and gave him a wink. Up until now he was the model of virtue, always helping the hero make the right choice so the people would love him. Telling the best stories so his path stayed trueâŠso the works coming out of his mouth right now were jarring at best.
âYes, let me toy with him for a while. I think I can get three or four weeks. Two months if I use this new healing spell Iâve been trying to learn on the side. Oh I think his screams will be wonderfulâŠa symphony for the soul if you will.â
Nuvian smile as he moved the villain over to make sure his heart was still bleeding and offering some stabilization without waking him up. The hero was just dumbfounded at the moment.
âIâŠI was just going to kill him.â
Nuvian didnât even look back as he made sure to search the Villainâs pockets and remove everything but enough clothes to leave his modesty intact. He moved like he was an expert at this, like it had been done a hundred times and this was simply business as usual. Even his tone was as light and warm as it ever has been.
âOh, I know, but that was never the plan my dear friend. This was the plan. This has always been the plan.â
The rest of the party was recovering. They had all been just hurt enough to have to stay behind for the final battle leaving only the hero and his trusty bard to face the boss alone. None of them grievously injuredâŠbut just enough so they wouldnât be at full so they werenât strong enough to walk through the barrier.
âThe Plan? You need to talk to me Nuvian. I want you to explain everything right now!â
The Hero panicked, had he just been manipulated this entire time? Were his motivation his own? PanicâŠworryâŠdread. He said heâd never be a puppet again. Not since escaping slavery.
âOh it was simple. Keep you good, get you strong and get to the villain. Kill him, wonât help you feel better. You know it needs to be done though. If you did this, youâd lose part of yourself. Which is fine. Youâve only killed monsters up to this point, mindless hunks of meat that deal out constant aggression. They have no emotions, no anything. They are easy to kill. Sentient beings on the other hand, well that isnât you cup of tea. Donât worry, your quest was yours alone, I didnât need to make you do anything. I was just along to get to this point.â
At this point the Hero didnât even notice Nuvian hoist the Villain up on their horse and secure them to the saddle. The bard then turned to his friend and walked over to put a hand on his shoulder. The Heroâs eyes locked with his friend and oddly enough he found comfort in them. This was the man who had saved his life, who sang by the fire at night to quell the restless spirits that banded together to remove the Villain from power. He was there, it couldnât have all been a lie could it?
âListen, you arenât the only one this bastard has hurt. On top of that he knows things, things no one but me knows he knows. So I want some answers. I get to have fun while I rip them from his flesh. Iâm a nice person my dear Hero but Iâm not a good one. Do you remember the corrupt mayor that we punished last year?â
The Hero nodded and then froze.
âWhat did you do to him? We left him in a jail cell and moved on. The city was supposed to do what they neededâŠbut then you had business. IâŠI watched you get on a boat and leave. We met up a month later.â
Nuvian just smile and squeezed his friendâs shoulder. He then motioned for him to sit down in the batter throne they found the villain on while Nuvian sat in the stewards spot.
âWell, I did have business, but I just had the ship drop me down the river and I looped around back. I then hunted down every noble that supported the Mayor, I tortured them to make sure there were no hidden secrets, and then I tortured the mayor till his body gave out. I did some of my best work. A demon actually came up from hell to have me autograph a square of his flesh after his body gave out and his soul hit its final destination. It was really an honor. Shows Iâm on the right path. Most polite pit fiend Iâve ever met. Didnât use my real name of course, not that stupid. We had a laugh over it, all in all a great time.â
The Hero was still stunned but honestly he didnât feel bad about it. He didnât give the go ahead for this, but he knew if anyone deserved those fates it was that pedophile mayor and his lackies. Reason was starting to return, and the more Nuvian talked the more the Hero realized that it wasnât that he didnât know his friend, he just didnât know ALL of his friend and that was okay because he was finding out now.
âAlright, if that is what you want to do Iâm not going to argue or stop you. Come find me when you are done though okay, I want to take you out to the tavern for a drink.â
Nuvian just chuckled and brought his friend in for a hug. He knew the Hero wasnât naive and thus why he was chosen as a traveling partner and one to help him get to his goal. Find, capture, break and then murder the Villain. The process took three years, but three years of well spent effort.
âDeal.â
The bard said as they parted ways and he turned to head out of the place before the rest of the party could try and press their morals upon them. Nuvian could only chuckle as he head the Villain groan in pain. Oh it was going to be SO much worse in just a dayâs timeâŠhe couldnât wait.
'You can't kill him!' 'Ugh I am so sick of this idea that killing this monster would make me just as bad as he is!' 'What? No I'm saying I can keep him alive for DAYS while I torture him' 'âŠ'
#writers#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writeblr#writing inspiration#Writer#Fantasy#Magic#Lawful Evil#UnknownOgre
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Listen I love the âdicks being ostracized from his family and self destructsâ trope in fics however
I would like an inverse just once (I could write it but I want this fic to be good so I can enjoy it and I am not the greatest writer) where everyone blows up at him and flat out lays into him and he just goes⊠okay⊠if thatâs how you feel?
Takes himself off of the patrol routes and rosters. Heâs off the emergency calls and his âcall for city wide emergencyâ has been down graded to âcall for world wide emergencyâ heâs no longer on comms with oracle
He stops offering assistance to the other kids teams, doesnât send info for investigation and doesnât go within 100feet of Gotham.
Takes himself off the den-mother, baby sitter, trainer for all the younger teams lost that involve any and all bats
In the beginning he vacates his apartment and temporarily moves in with Donna in New York and things are good because of course they are. Theyâre Dick and Donna a world doesnât exist where they arenât okay.
And then his presence in New York leads to a lot of the og core five titans interacting and they realize that they miss each other like hell and start to work together more and more. Until news sites are like âteen titans grown up??â âOriginal titans spotted doing hurricane aid in Florida!â
Because Dick loves his family but he knows when to bow out. And he chose the family he made in the new teen titans.
And then one day one of the bats track him down in nyc and breaks into what is now Dick and Donnaâs apartment and are ready to argue that they need him back and need him there for a huge Gotham wide event.
And Dick says âsure okay let me get my stuff and we leave in half and hourâ as soon as the first sentence is out
No convincing or begging or asking for money (cough Jason cough)
Dick is patched into their comms and heâs working efficiently except heâs not⊠acting like himself.
Heâs collaborating with whoever they tell him too, no problem, heâs discussing ideal plans and co-ops and teams and how to best get it under control.
But heâs talking to them the way he talks when heâs offering aid to teams heâs not a part of.
Like the hero version of an acquaintance and no one can call him out on it because heâs doing good work. Work thatâs on par with his work before this whole fiasco. He explicitly isnât letting their personal issues affect his work.
Heâs speaking but not talking
And Bruce remembers this⊠heâs probably the only one who does because last time he was the only one included. The last time Dick acted like this is when he first visited Jason and him after he had been fired.
Whenever Bruce was in the room and Dick was forced to speak with him, the conversation never strayed past business casual especially around Jason.
Batman and Nightwing got into screaming matches
Bruce and Dick were strangers
And now theyâre back to this, 7 kids later, a million ends of the world stopped, theyâve bled together, cried together and clung to each other in pure relief after they managed to clutch victory.
And Nightwing was treating Batman Inc like a new team stepping onto the scene.
Once theyâve secured everything and managed to keep Bruce from self destructing and making it worse. Dick just leaves and tells oracle that heâll send over his debrief in 3-5 business days and it was nice working with them.
And then heâs gone
No cave, no manor, no Alfred, no med-bay because Dick doesnât stay places heâs not welcome.
And after they all talk about that and how weird it was and Bruce reveals Dick did this before when he was Nightwing after Bruce fired, where Dick Grayson didnât know Bruce Wayne.
And one of the kids asks when he broke and stopped the act and Bruce just says âthe day he found out Jason diedâ
And the Batkids kinda freak bc what do you mean?? What is he only going to come back when someone dies? Thats not? There has to be another way?? And Bruce is like yeah no idea sorry (bc heâs helpful like that)
So then Steph the next day resolves to go visit him, Tim isnât the only professional stalker. And she finds Dick and Donnaâs apartment and well itâs daylight and sheâs in civvies sheâs if she climbs in through the window she might get reported to the NYPD and she doesnât wanna get arrested or shot to door it is!
And so she goes and knocks and Dick opens the door and just lights up
Something something this is such a nice surprise something something itâs so good to see you.
Dick had taught Donna how to make some of his mother recipes when they were kids. So now whenever theyâre together for a long time they cook together.
So Dick who is usually living in a cluttered apartment with no clean dishes and an exclusively grab and go food is now trying to force feed her some of his cooking.
Because he picked up the habit again since heâs the better cook between him and Donna.
And itâs delicious and he wants to catch up and hear everything thatâs going on in her life, is she working with new people, dating anyone? How is her relationship with her mother etc etc.
Itâs a nice day and she stays late and never confronts him on anything until she sees how long ago the sun set and she needs to get moving.
He hands her paper with his number and makes her promise not to give it to the others or she will lose access to it, he offers to help her on a conditional basis as nightwing but only her, she can call him about the rest if itâs an end of the world or theyâre near death and need immediate aid.
And thatâs like the fic because the key to winning nightwings assistance is like breathing (optional) but if youâre Dicks family you have to care or else. Heâll love you and help you, when you need it but he wonât tie his life up with yours, heâll spend his time with people who value his opinion and the person behind the mask.
Anyway cue all the Batkids trying to do what Steph did and fail because theyâre neurotic shits who think bonding involves doing casework together or a steak out.
(The next person to crack it is Damian, completely unintentionally he has a fight with Bruce and canât ask him how the fuck heâs supposed to solve this equation in the new stupid way theyâre teaching him no he canât use the old method theyâre supposed to show their work so he pulls up to Dick and Donnaâs in a ratty ass hoodie like plz wtf do you mean you work top down explain Grayson- and dicks like awww no problem kid)
#dick grayson#batfam#AU#nightwing#batman#comics#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#batfamily#damian wayne#the titans are family your honor#Dick Grayson and Donna Troy#theyâre the besties#corporate wants to you point out the difference between these two photos#and itâs Donna Troy and Dick Grayson#itâs the same photo#titans
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SAKUSA ANGST??????â€ïž
By the time Kiyoomi gets to home, the moon is halfway past the skyline and high in space, and the bright light trickles through the blinds, carving your disappointed features while Kiyoomi jumps at the sight of you, standing firmly in the living room.
"Jeez," he snickers, putting his keys on the counter. "You scared me, baby, what're you doing up-"
"I know, Kiyoomi."
His brows furrow in confusion, but behind his dark pools, you see shame. And his eyes always gave him away. âWhat? Whatâre you talking about?â
You blink lazily, âI saw Hinata. You werenât with him. Told me you never even texted him.â You shake your head, âif youâre going to commit adultery, make sure you have all your bases covered.â
He stays silent for a moment, letting his eyes cast down and avoiding your judgmental, hurt gaze. A hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, pick at a hangnail, jam into his pockets, anything and everything to not meet your betrayed looks.
âHow long?â
âBaby, I-â
âDo not pull that manipulative shit on me,â you say exhaustedly. âDonât start with that nonsense. I want to know how long. And I want to know who.â
He finally meets your eyes, âI made a mistake-â
âNo no. New couples make mistakes,â you snap, hoping that by yelling out your frustrations you wonât cry the hot tears swelling in your waterline. âWeâve been together three years, you donât get to make those kinds of mistakes, you donât get to tell me not to worry about one person, then cheat on me.â
When he slowly lowers his hands, guilt struck in his gaze, you feel bile rising up your throat.
âItâs⊠your PR manager. Isnât it?â You chuckle. âYour âwork babeâ? The one you assured me was over and done with?â
âNo no, youâve got to listen to me-â
âAfter I specifically begged you to tell me it wasnât true, after you assured me nothing funny was going down, after you told me youâd gone to their house to fire them-â
He looks away. Darts his eyes again. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, âoh my god⊠you⊠went there to be with them- YOU WENT THERE TO BE WITH THEM WHILE I WAS HOME? WAILING OVER YOU?!â
He says nothing to defend himself, and you scream and jump up and out of your seat, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him with it. He shields himself with his arms, ducking slightly from your swings, but he doesnât say anything. Nothing to change your mind, sway your thinking or deny, deny, deny anything.
âYou lied to me!â You sob, finally losing your composure. âYou lied square to my face, for what! For THEM?!â
âBaby, listen-â
âDONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT, SAKUSA!â You shriek, throwing the pillow down and meeting his teary eyes with your enraged ones. âDonât FUCKING start with me!â
He calls your name in an attempt to calm you down, extending his arms to create distance, âit was a mistake, I made mistakes.â
âAnd thatâs a crock of shit.â
âI thought I was missing something, and I thought they could give it to me! Honest! It meant nothing, just meaningless dates and kisses to try and fill something inside that I needed, and-
âYou are not helping yourself right now, Sakusa,â you pant.
âI wanted to leave them, I swear on my mother-â
âAnd you couldnât manage to do that.â
âSo now what?â He chokes. âSo-So-So are we just done? Three years just gone?â
âBecause of you.â
âIâm not going to let this happen,â he sobs, collapsing to his knees and wrapping his arms around your legs. âPlease, donât leave me. Iâll fire them. You can go with me.â
âClearly firing them isnât going to make a difference,â you snarl. âSince your tongues been down their throat and god knows what else.â You shake him off your legs and continue to look down at him in distain, âIâll have the boys send for my things. Iâm staying with Osamu. Do not contact me anymore.â You shake him off your legs, and he looks up at you like a kicked dog.
âNo-â
âYeah, you donât get to say no, anymore,â you snap. âSince clearly you had a hard enough time doing it for them. Iâm taking control of the situation now. You will never make a fool out of me again.â
âPlease,â he begs, âI hated it, I hated all of it, I-â
âStop lying, Kiyoomi,â you shake your head. âItâs not worth it. Youâre not going to sway me.â
At that, Kiyoomi stops. His eyes blink a line of tears down, his hands rest in his lap, and his bottom lip trembles. You take a deep breath, âplease let Osamu in when he comes for my belongings.â
He says nothing. He merely continues to stare up at you desperately, pleadingly, and you scoff before making your way down the hall to grab your packed bag. âUnreal,â you hiss. âYou are unbelievable.â
âYou donât have to leave,â he chokes. âYou can stay here, Iâll leave, Iâll go to Bokutoâs, heâll-â
âHeâll let you in and stay with him after you have the nerve to cheat on me?â You scoff. âBokuto is not an idiot. Heâs not going to just ignore the shitty things you do because youâre his teammate.â
Kiyoomi knows that if you walk through that door, youâll never come back. You know itâs tearing him up inside, you see it in his exhausted features and you know it in your soul.
Good.
#HEHEHEHEHEHEHEBEBEHEHEHE#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa kiyoomi angst#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader angst#sakusa kiyoomi imagine#sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader#sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu#sakusa#sakusa angst#sakusa x reader#sakusa x reader angst#sakusa x gn!reader#sakusa imagine#sakusa haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader angst#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n
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The funny thing about Jesus shipping is it literally drops us into about 2000 years of Biblical interpretation. Which disciple we pick is an exegesis/headcanon. And, in the most literal sense, it even depends on what texts we decide to count as canon.
Like, if we want to focus on John, we have to note that John is the only gospel that uses "beloved disciple" in the first place. So our source for John is... John.
And obviously "'The Gospel of X' says that X is the most important disciple" is the best fun you can have.
That's why I use "The Gospel of Judas" (c. 2nd-century CE) as my canon, even though it's Gnostic fuckery. tbh I think the "kiss" is the least compelling bit of J/J, because the anachronism of reading anything into that kiss makes it the weakest bullet point in the Jesus/Judas Shipper Manifesto. And the idea of Judas as a zealot is pretty indefensible unless we're just having fun (and we are).
Peter sources are all from the Synoptic Gospels (the oldest Gospels, in chronological order: Mark, Matthew, Luke). We can cherry pick gospels for shipping, but let's be real... Synoptics have Word of God energy lol. We kinda have to concede first place to Peter and then squabble (in good fun) about every other spot on the podium. Peter sure did deny Jesus three times but hey, he didn't betray him to his death.
(Long post, I decided to ramble. Just for my own amusement. Because this was my undergrad degree.)
Judas:
"The Gospel of Judas" is probably the ur-source for Jesus/Judas girlies and I just gotta infodump. Is it canonical to any Christian tradition? No, itâs docetist tomfoolery. But it's a really fun text to pull in because, as you'd expect from "The Gospel of Judas," Judas is Jesus' specialist little disciple:
(Jesus said to the disciples) â[Let] any one of you who is [strong enough] among human beings bring out the perfect human and stand before my face.â They all said, âWe have the strength.â But their spirits did not dare to stand before [him], except for Judas Iscariot. He was able to stand before him, but he could not look him in the eyes, and he turned his face away.
You get Jesus selecting Judas as the only one who was worthy while also being enigmatic and fucking off when Judas asks questions:
Knowing that Judas was reflecting upon something that was exalted, Jesus said to him, âStep away from the others and I shall tell you the mysteries of the kingdom. It is possible for you to reach it, but you will grieve a great deal. For someone else will replace you, in order that the twelve [disciples] may again come to completion with their god.â Judas said to him, âWhen will you tell me these things, and [when] will the great day of light dawn for the generation?â But when he said this, Jesus left him.
You also get an enigmatic nickname and weird lovingly condescending divinity:
Judas said, âMaster, as you have listened to all of them, now also listen to me. For I have seen a great vision.â When Jesus heard this, he laughed and said to him, âYou thirteenth spirit, why do you try so hard? But speak up, and I shall bear with you.â
And we canât emphasise enough that while Judas is special and the only one Jesus confides the truth in, Jesus tells him heâll be reviled pretty much until the End Times. Poor little meow meow Judas:
When he heard this, Judas said to him, âWhat good is it that I have received it? For you have set me apart for that generation.â Jesus answered and said, âYou will become the thirteenth, and you will be cursed by the other generationsâand you will come to rule over them. In the last days they will curse your ascent to the holy [generation].â
And although The Last Temptation of Christ was written well before we found the Gospel of Judas, we get the same dynamic where Jesus and Judas both know beforehand that Judas will enable Jesusâ sacrifice, which has a tragic weird intimacy about it:
âBut you will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.â
This bit really almost reads like fanfic already:
âLook, you have been told everything. Lift up your eyes and look at the cloud and the light within it and the stars surrounding it. The star that leads the way is your star.â
Speaking of The Last Temptation of Christ, I personally find it to be a better, weirder J/J source than "Jesus Christ Superstar." Not least because it tries to reconcile the gospels the most of I've seen in any other piece of media. Side note: When I say "reconcile," I mean narratively dealing with contradictions. E.g., how Nativity plays put both magi (Matthew) and shepherds (Luke) in the same story.
And "The Last Temptation of Christ" film adaptation really brings in the unsettling chaotic energy that I think a story about an incarnate deity destined to die requires. Apart from "Goncharov," it's my favourite Scorsese:
youtube
John:
If we ditch the Synoptic gospels and focus on John, of course John will give us John as the "disciple whom Jesus loved," since John is the only gospel that uses that term. And John is the best-written gospel, hands-down, so it's just a winner of a text.
Though, just to clarify for anyone who might have misread what OP said: the word "philtatos" is not in the Bible. The closest concept is the "ho mathÄtÄs hon ÄgapÄ ho IÄsous"/"disciple whom Jesus loved" term that the John author invented to describe John. And since John is the last of the canonical Gospels, it would be absolutely bugfuck crazy Dan-Brownery to make historical claims. But I hope Jesus/John shippers are out there pulling in the Apocryphon of John just because the opening is pretty poignant. And obviously John 13:23 with John leaning on Jesus' chest is tremendously good.
Peter:
For Peter, I feel like having the Synoptics backing up your ship will always give the superior claim to, uh, your ship being canon. But the full bit of Matt 26:33-35 kinda ruins my fun:
Peter replied, âEven if all fall away on account of you, I never will.â Truly I tell you, Jesus answered, âthis very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.â But Peter declared, âEven if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.â And all the other disciples said the same.
All the other disciples chiming in makes it less special. And the fact that he does disown Jesus is a bit... :(
I think my problem is that Peter gives me Kronk energy by running about hopping out of boats and swinging his sword about. It's giving "Peter, dumb as a rock". But I'd be lying if that didn't make for good material.
Tangentially: I'm also in the camp that The Secret Gospel of Mark was a forgery (it's too damn convenient to find an intensely controversial "gay gospel" and then whoops! we lose the gospel Ă la Joseph Smith's golden tablets) but I respect Morton Smith for giving us this:
âThe youth, looking upon [Jesus], loved him and began to beseech him that he might be with him,â it read. âAnd after six days Jesus told him what to do and in the evening the youth comes to him, wearing a linen cloth over his naked body. And he remained with him that night, for Jesus taught him the mystery of the kingdom of God.â
If only he'd had access to AO3...
jesus/judas isn't even the best jesus yaoi. the betrayal kiss is a powerful symbol for sure and judas killing himself after jesus' crucifixion is of course hugely significant (see: jesus christ superstar). but in biblical canon there is literally a disciple described as jesus' most beloved. his favourite disciple. his philtatos, for the song of achilles girlies. he was the last disciple to die, he leans his head on jesus' shoulder at the last supper (and some scholars believe he was the only one jesus told of the nature of judas' betrayal). and lest we forget peter, who also betrayed/rejected jesus after swearing his eternal love for him, threatened to kill and die for him, was all like "i'll follow you anywhere" and "i'll be with you forever". straight up tried to walk on water for jesus. He was crazy. it was yaoi central in there
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